#so this representation is very reassuring

[myfairstarlight]

I need to ramble about the wedding breakfast dance.

That is Colin and Penelope's "Stare into my eyes. (s1) / Just keep looking at me, no one else matters. (s2) / Keep your eyes on me. There is no one here but us (QC)" iconic couple dance scene except no word is exchanged the whole time.

Instead, we get a visual representation of that feeling as the room empties, and only them remain. Albeit the editing did not let us savour that long enough, where's the full footage in HD Netflix???

And I think it's a core aspect of a friends to lovers story and Polin's that is so under-appreciated, this silent understanding between the characters. They've known each other for years, they've always been comfortable when together, so in that moment, no word of reassurance is needed because they already know! They have always been each other's safe space, even before friendship turned into romantic love. After all, they just need one look and a nod, just like at their wedding, to be secure in the other's love. No one else matters indeed.

Furthermore, unlike the other couples who were scrutinised by the Ton at some point or another because of their match, with the unfortunate pressure that comes with it, Penelope and Colin were always more of the outcasts, gossiping on the side of balls and no one truly paid them any attention until very recently as they both forced themselves to take part in society (Penelope to seek a husband, Colin to be taken seriously). Their season is the first time the Queen (or Lady Danbury) does not meddle with the main couple! (I would add Violet to the list who was more withdrawn than in previous seasons and mostly focused on Francesca this season, but she did nudge Colin a little.)

As soon as they get together, they stopped caring about others' judgement, because why should they? The Ton did not care before, after all. Colin and Penelope dancing in broad daylight at their wedding breakfast was breaking some unspoken society rule, but even before that, dancing at the church (also in broad daylight), at the Mondrich ball as they break the dance routine to add a twirl. They simply do not care. In fact, they never truly respected propriety rules, have they? Calling each other by their given names (even a nickname on Colin's part), the letters, the many unchaperoned encounters (one of which they got caught by Portia and Jack and yet nothing happened), Colin refusing a dance with Cressida to dance with Penelope instead... it just never brought a scandal because, well, the Ton constantly overlooked them, so now Penelope and Colin return the favour by overlooking the Ton.

And it is so significant that despite the Whistledown issue still hanging over their head, it does not change the fact they have chosen each other, that they will keep being their most authentic selves with each other and act like the whole world around them does not exist because they have each other, and as long as they do, everything will be alright.

After all, it is Colin loving and supporting Penelope that will give her the courage to step into the light and face the Queen as Whistledown, and it is Penelope loving and supporting Colin that will inspire him to write and publish, and make him feel like he finally belongs.

Oh also shout out to Albion Finch, best brother-in-law, always delighted to see Penelope thriving <3

And credit to this post I saw on twitter that prompted me to write this.

[haikyu-mp4]

Sly foxes

word count; 950 – f!reader

Not usually favouring sports, you’re in the journalism club to make use of your great eye for design and writing. After watching one of your school’s volleyball team’s official games last season, you took notice of the boring brochures they handed out with the players’ information. You hadn’t yet chosen what to do for your project this semester and decided to lend your talents to making a better representation of the team’s charms and talents. What you didn’t expect to get out of the project was a date.

You received permission from their coach and captain and set up some equipment to take your photos in a room adjacent to the gym during practice. Hopefully, you can encourage them all to pose confidently. In order to not disturb their whole practice, you ask one grade to join you at a time, starting with the first-years and ending with the third-years. Good luck!

Honestly, the coach was the least of your concerns going into this project. Everyone knew that Inarizaki’s volleyball team’s biggest defence was their captain, Kita Shinsuke.

You met with him for a lunch period, giving him a detailed explanation of your project and how you would like to proceed with it. He gave you some suggestions and rules, also making sure you knew that they couldn’t spent too much time on it.

Kita really liked how detailed you were and how you clearly came prepared to meet with him. You arrived at the precise agreed time and spent even less time than he expected, despite including all the necessary details. After he gave his two cents, he happily approved the project and asked you to spend the rest of the lunch period with him. Of course, you wouldn’t say no after he so kindly approved your project, but that wasn’t your only motivation. Their captain is really quite pretty up close.

D-day arrived and you started off with the first-years just like planned. Most of them were very sweet and seemed to appreciate a bit of attention even though they weren’t starting players. The problem arose when you got to the second-years. The ones Kita warned you about, even though he didn’t have to. You definitely heard of the Miya twins before.

Starting with Atsumu. “Yer taking up my practice time, pretty. Better make it worth my time.”

“I can skip you if you want, leave you out of the brochure,” you answered, not giving him much of a reaction. He begrudgingly posed for you and tried to casually flex his muscles, definitely not giving up on his first try of charming you. Still, to no avail.

Then there was Osamu. He was nice enough, trying to ask you about food you like, to which you answered normally. It was disturbing the picture taking and you wanted to stay on schedule. Unfortunately, the food talk made his stomach growl, so he ended up blushing and giving up his attempt so he could finally finish and leave to get a snack.

After the twins, you tried your best with Suna. When walking past you, he ghosted a hand over your hip as if on accident, and leaned down so he didn’t need to speak too loud. “How do you want me?” he asked, hoping to send some chills down your spine when his deep voice hit your ear, breath curling around it. You pointed to his spot and asked him casually to look like an intimidating middle blocker. Kita gave you a rundown of the positions beforehand.

“You look a little… bored,” you said with a careful smile, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way. Suna deadpanned and sighed, realising his flirting didn’t work on you and he just couldn’t be bothered putting in too much work. So he sharpened his eyes and got the photoshoot over with, complaining to Atsumu about how stale you were and he totally agreed.

The rest had realised by then that there was no getting to you, and they all decided the bet was off. Yes, the second-years bet on who you would be most charmed by.

That’s why you sighed with relief when you got to the third-years. Kita smiled softly and patted your shoulder, reassuring you that your process was well planned and executed, which in turn means the result will be as well.

All the pictures came out really good, though you did have a special vision for Kita’s that made them your biased favourites. He had his jacket resting over his shoulders and you and Akagi agreed he looked pretty cool. After packing up your stuff and going back into the gym, you turn to the team with Kita by your side. “Everyone, please thank y/n for the effort. I’m sure this will help us show off our best sides at nationals,” he said, looking at you while your cheeks flushed red from his compliments. The team all bowed, but the second-years looked at you and their captain with a suspicious squint.

“Thank you guys for your cooperation! And thank you, Kita, for allowing it,” you said, bowing to the captain and then the team before finally taking your leave.

“Did Kita just smile at her?” Atsumu whispered in shock.

“Did she blush? He just said thanks?” Suna whispered with disbelief.

“What just happened?” Ginjima threw in there.

Aran huffed a laugh and hit Suna hard on the back, as he stood the closest. “What, you guys don’t think our captain has game?”

Kita had already asked to take you out for tea outside of school and looked forward to your date this weekend. The second years might just have gained even more respect for their captain.

the Flyer Series ║ masterlist

/taglist: @cottonlemonade @dira333 @cosmiicdust

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 26.1k ❧ genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, paranormal/supernatural au, ghost!jisung ❧ warnings: mentions of death, prominent side character dies early in the fic, depictions of grieving, family member of the reader is sick (it’s dementia-like, though the disease is never named in the fic), family tension/drama (reader has some family members that are not very nice to her), reader has some sleep/physical health issues at one point, reader is just really going through it in this fic for a while ❧ extra info: the reader’s mom in this has early-onset memory issues; i didn’t name a specific disease because im not a medical expert of any kind and didn’t want to misrepresent any real-life illness in this fic. i combined both my own experiences with my own family members who have had these kinds of illnesses and some research, but i am not an expert and the representation in this fic may not be entirely accurate! ❧ author’s note: i don’t think i’ve done a spooky fic like this before? but this one was super fun! also i will say it takes a little bit for jisung to show up, so please be patient when you don’t see him in the first few scenes, he’ll be there, i promise! ❧ sequel

That night, the rain was still pounding against the windows. Your mom had gone to bed a while ago, but your mind was restless. Something had happened again as you were helping your mom get ready for bed. Your stepdad’s reading glasses, which were on the nightstand on his side of their bed, as they had been since he passed, had fallen off with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Not wanting your mom to get spooked about the house again, you reassured her that you had just bumped into the furniture—her back was turned when they fell—but it left you with an uneasy feeling.

“Hi, Hyukjun.” You picked up the phone call from your stepdad as you headed back towards your office building from the restaurant you’d taken your lunch break at.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?” His warm, familiar voice was on the other end as always, though there was something different about it, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on from the quality of your phone speaker. Your steps slowed thoughtfully as you listened more attentively, a pit growing in your stomach.

“I’m good,” you answered shortly, suspicion creeping over you. “How are you two?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate hearing from your stepdad, you were on good terms with him. Your father passed when you were a little girl, and your mom continued to raise you on her own, not even considering any romantic prospects until you graduated high school. She and Hyukjun only dated for six months before marrying and had been happily married since. Hyukjun was a mild-mannered divorcee with three adult sons of his own, all of whom were at least a decade older than you, and none of which you were exceptionally close with. When your mom had been diagnosed only five years into their marriage, he began taking care of her—no question and no complaints. With her condition, you were fairly certain that you visited them more than Hyukjun’s own kids did, despite all of them living nearby to your knowledge.

He at least didn’t beat around the bush anymore. “She’s getting worse, Y/N.”

“How bad?”

“She thinks the house is haunted,” he admitted. “And I…”

“What?” You prompted him.

“She’s been asking for you. I know you’re busy, but if you could visit soon, I think it’d really help her.”

“Yeah, I have some time this weekend,” you agreed immediately. “I’ll be there.”

“Thanks.”

You were arriving at the building then, slowing to a stop outside as you prepared to hang up. “My break is ending, Hyukjun, I’ve got to go.”

“Of course,” he acquiesced. “Hey, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You looked up at the gray storm clouds gathering in the sky above you. “And tell Mom I love her, and I’ll be there soon.”

“I will. Have a good rest of your day at work, sweetheart.”

“Right. Bye.”

When your mom and Hyukjun got married, you already had a lease on a small place closer to your job in the city, so your mom sold your childhood home and moved in with Hyukjun. Despite the small twinge of sadness at her selling your childhood home, the place where you, your mom, and dad had all been together, you were happy that she was no longer there by herself. Their home was a quaint two-story, two-bedroom townhome, with well-tended flowerbeds and a porch swing out front. A long time ago, you knew that this house had been your stepbrothers’ childhood home, the three of them sharing what was now the guest room, Hyukjun and his ex-wife occupying the primary bedroom that was now his and your mother’s. Hyukjun had been divorced for many years before he met your mom, you didn’t know the exact number off the top of your head—you weren’t sure if you had ever been told.

The snapdragons were in bloom, stalks of purples and blues and pinks, and you squatted down next to one. Feeling a bit like a child, you gently squeezed the sides of one flower to make the “mouth” of the dragon open, like Hyukjun had shown you one of the first times you’d met, the very first time you ever went to his house. The front door opened, and you looked up to see your stepdad stepping out of the house. You stood up, walking up the three short steps from the sidewalk to meet him on their porch.

“I saw you coming up the street,” he explained, gesturing to the front window. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.”

“Hi, Hyukjun.” You hugged him. “Good to see you too.”

“I just wanted to give you a heads up. She’s calm, but she’s not exactly… here,” he explained. “I didn’t want you to be caught off-guard.”

You nodded in understanding. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

Following your stepdad into the house, he guided you towards the living room at the back of the house.

“Hon?” He poked his head into the living room.

Your mom looked up from where she had been reading a book in an armchair, her face breaking into a gentle smile. “Oh, Sangwoo, you’re back.”

“Yes, I picked Y/N up, just like you asked.” Your stepdad stepped aside to let her see you.

You pushed aside the alarms going off in your mind to give your mother as calm of a smile as you could, approaching her with your hand outstretched. “Hi, Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, hi, sweetie.” She beamed at you, taking your hand that was offered and squeezing it tight. “How was school?”

“It was good, I had a good day,” you answered brightly. Looking down at the book in her lap, you asked, “What are you reading?”

Your mother had been a Literature teacher for all her life, before her diagnosis forced her to retire many years before she ever wanted to. She would read to you at any opportunity when you were a kid, especially at bedtime. It was always easiest to get her talking now about whatever book she was reading, no matter where her mind was.

“Oh, I’ll tell you about it later. First, do you have homework?”

“No, Mom, nothing today.”

Hyukjun cleared his throat then. “You must be hungry, Y/N. Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes, yes, go get a snack.” Your mother insisted.

“Okay,” you acquiesced, giving her hand another tight squeeze. “I’ll be right back after my snack. I want to hear about your book.”

In their kitchen, you turned on your stepdad with wide eyes. “She’s not just mixing up your names anymore, she thinks you are my dad!”

“Sometimes…” Hyukjun nodded, leaning against a kitchen counter. “Not always. She has her lucid days still.”

In the bright kitchen lighting, you could see a certain tiredness in Hyukjun that was new, a pallor in his skin, a hitch in his breaths, a lag in his movements, none of which used to be there.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes locking on his. “With you? You were going to tell me something on the phone, and you didn’t. Tell me.”

He sighed, the sound dragging out into a wheeze and then a hacking cough that he covered in his elbow, and you winced just watching him. When he’d caught his breath again, he answered, “They found a tumor, in my lung. I have maybe six months, Y/N.”

“That’s it?!” You blurted out. “I-I mean, even with chemo, or radiation, or whatever?”

“I’m not—”

“It’s not treatable?”

He cast a sidelong glance down the hall, at the room where your mother was. “Someone needs to take care of her. I need to be here, and after I’m gone, our savings will go towards her care. We can’t spend it all on something that might give me another few months.”

“Another few months with her! With us!” You grabbed his arm, knowing how desperate you sounded. “What about your kids? Do they know what you’re doing?”

“No.” His voice was heavy, but determined. “I know you all don’t talk… but don’t tell them, please.”

His face wavered in your vision as your eyes filled with tears. You tried to swallow them down, but a couple spilled over. “Let me move in, and help. I want to take care of both of you. Please.”

“What about your job?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me. You’ve done enough for me, for us. Let me do something for you.”

“Thank you.”

Your work agreed to let you move into a part-time remote position. Most days you were able to get all your done, early even. Not only was Hyukjun there, but a memory care aide named Nayoung came by for an hour three days a week to assist as well.

It had been a month since you moved into the primary bedroom on the second floor, the bedroom that used to be your mom and stepdad’s. You found out that they moved their things into the guest room on the first floor two months ago, when your mom hurt herself on the stairs. It had only been a skinned knee, but Hyukjun didn’t want to risk something worse.

That night you laid in bed with your laptop open, desperately trying to finish up a report that was due the next day. Today had been rougher, your mom needing constant redirection and reorientation, not to mention the conversation that you had with your stepdad earlier this evening. Usually after your mom went to sleep, the two of you would watch a movie or a couple episodes of a show, or just have a drink and chat. It was a nice, slow, easy part of your day with just the two of you. But this time as you rooted around the for the fresh tub of ice cream that you had just bought from the store, and called to him over your shoulder asking if he wanted a bowl, you saw him waiting for you with papers in his hand.

One of the errands he’d sent you on today, in addition to groceries, the post office, and the pharmacy, had been to an attorney’s office. You’d known that, you weren’t stupid. There, you had been handed a large envelope with the law firm’s name embossed on it, and your stepdad’s name typed on a label under that. You didn’t inquire as to the contents of the envelope from the receptionist, nor your stepdad when you delivered it to him upon returning home. It was none of your business. But at the kitchen table that night, he showed you the documents that he had drawn up.

Once he passed, you would own his house, the one that you lived in now, as a life estate pur autre vie. For the life of another. Until your mother passed, you would own his house, and could stay here and take care of her. Then, once she passed, the house would go to his sons, your stepbrothers, as he’d always intended.

You sighed and deleted the sentence you’d just written. “Stupid, stupid,” you muttered to yourself. Looking at the time, you let out another sigh and rubbed your face in exasperation. “I’m never going to fucking finish this.”

Setting the laptop aside, you pushed your covers off yourself and got out of bed. Keeping your footsteps light, you crept downstairs and into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. After drinking a whole glass in the kitchen, you refilled it to bring it back up to bedroom with you. Halfway up the stairs, the sconce on the wall next to your head flickered on, making you pause. You’d left all the lights off on your way down. Peering behind the frosted glass cover, you reached your hand back there and tightened the bulb. The light stopped flickering, and you looked around at the empty, dark staircase again. Shrugging to yourself, you finished your journey to your room.

Cutting up your mom’s breakfast into small pieces, you hummed a song that had been stuck in your head. The sound of something clattering startled your peaceful reverie, and your head snapped up immediately. You darted around the kitchen counter to get your eyes on where your mom was sitting at the kitchen table.

“You okay, Mom?” You asked, eyes searching her for any signs of injury or distress.

“Oh, I’m fine, sweetie,” she reassured you, pointing at a point on the floor further away from her. You saw that a silver utensil was gleaming up from the tile. “I dropped my fork, that’s all.”

“I’ll grab you another one when I bring your food in, don’t worry about it,” you reassured her. “Leave it, I’ll pick it up in a sec.”

Returning to the kitchen, you finished cutting her food, then prepared yours and Hyukjun’s plates. Carrying all three of them in, along with your mom’s clean fork, you cocked your head when you saw the fork sitting on the closest edge of the table to the kitchen. Looking at Hyukjun, who had joined your mom at the table in the interim, you said, “You didn’t have to pick up the fork, Hyukjun, I was going to grab it.”

His face betrayed his momentary confusion, looking between the food you just set in front of him, then to the fork on the edge of the table. “That was there when I came in. I didn’t move it.”

As you set your mom’s food down for her, you asked, “Mom, did you get the fork?”

But her eyes had a familiar far-out appearance, and you knew she wasn’t going to be able to answer you. You shook your head at yourself, putting your own plate down and grabbing the dirty fork off the table. Dropping it in the kitchen sink, you then returned to the table to take your seat next to your mother and across from Hyukjun.

You weren’t sure why you were awake at first. Everything seemed quiet, but something didn’t feel right. Sitting up in bed, you checked the time on your phone. 2:48 a.m. You desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness in your mind, and so you pushed the covers off of you.

As soon as you were at the top of the stairs, you could hear voices downstairs, your mother’s and your stepdad’s. Your stepdad was clearly trying to keep his voice down, but your mom wasn’t, and she sounded distressed.

“Sangwoo, I’m telling you something’s wrong with this house! We need to go! Where’s Y/N?!” She demanded of him.

“She’s fine, she’s sleeping. Please, tell me what’s wrong with the house, and we can try to fix it,” he pleaded with her quietly.

You finally made it to the hallway just outside their bedroom, taking in the scene of your mom’s wild, scared eyes and Hyukjun’s desperate concern. “Mom, I’m here, I’m okay.”

“Y/N!” She let out a gasp of relief as soon as she saw you. “Oh, you’re okay.”

“Yes, Mom, I’m okay.” You offered her your hand, and she grabbed it tightly. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“I’ve been trying to tell your dad—” She gestured to Hyukjun pointedly. “But this house isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?”

“It just isn’t right,” she repeated insistently. “What happened to our old house? We need to go back there!”

You looked at Hyukjun desperately, at a loss for words to explain that she sold it years ago. Thankfully, he took over.

“It’s late, hon. We can’t go all the way back to the old house this late at night, especially not with Y/N. It’s not safe,” he persuaded her gently.

She seemed to relax a little at this. “Oh. Right. It’s late.”

“Can you read me something, Mom?” You requested sweetly.

This finally brought a smile to her features, and she nodded, her grasp on your hand turning tender. “Oh, of course, Y/N. I’m sorry I woke you, sweetie.”

“It’s alright, Mom,” you reassured her, leading her back into their bedroom. “Everything’s alright.”

Hyukjun’s funeral was quaint. It was kept to family and close friends, and organized mostly by his sons and ex-wife. You didn’t mind, your mother was in no shape to organize a funeral, and you were more than happy to step aside and support her through this while they dealt with the details.

Today of all days was one of your mother’s better days, possibly one of the best that she’s had in a while, and you didn’t know if that was better or worse. Better, you decided, so she could say goodbye to him properly. After the small funeral was the wake, held at Hyukjun’s home—which was now your home, you realized—and was a more open-door affair. Your mom’s memory care aide, Nayoung, came as well, which you were glad for. While your stepbrothers and their mother played host more than you, greeting guests as they showed up, chatting and reminiscing with them about all their shared memories of Hyukjun from years or even decades ago, it was still your residence, and you couldn’t bring yourself to just stay in a corner. Hyukjun had been your family too, for however brief a period of your life.

You were alone in the kitchen getting refreshments for yourself, your mom, and Nayoung when you sensed that you weren’t by yourself. Turning around, you did in fact see your stepbrothers entering the kitchen, followed by their mother.

You offered them all a small, polite smile. “Hi.”

“Glad we caught you, Y/N,” the oldest brother flashed you a grin. “You got a sec?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“We know it must be really tough for you, taking care of your mom by yourself now,” their mother said, her voice coated in an over-the-top sugary sweet sympathy.

You shrugged noncommittally. “Nayoung helps.”

The youngest jumped in, “We just wanted you to know that you and your mom can take as much time as you need to move out.”

“Of course, of course,” their mother agreed. “You know, a week or two.”

They all nodded and murmured in agreement, focusing the same overeager, empty, sympathetic faces on you that made you feel like you were surrounded by some kind of predator that wanted to empathize you to death. Steeling your nerves, you met all of their eyes in turn as you went to answer.

“We’re not moving out.” You informed them firmly. “Hyukjun left the house to me to keep taking care of my mom. After… it’s all yours.”

“And we’re supposed to believe you’ll just give it to us?” The youngest scoffed, immediately dropping his kind, caring act. All of their faces were somewhere between disbelief and anger.

“No, he set it up that way. You can get your copies of the papers from his attorney, Mr. Shin.” You brought out the business card for the attorney who drafted the papers. You’d tucked it into your wallet absentmindedly when it’d been given to you on your initial errand from Hyukjun, and you were glad you hadn’t had the time to clean out your wallet since. You set the business card down on the counter between you.

The oldest snatched up the card. “There’s no way…”

“We’re going to fight this. No way the house is yours,” the youngest swore.

The middle son spoke finally, his gaze hard as he glared at you. He practically snarled, “You’re not his family, you’ve never been.”

“It was good seeing you all again,” you said, no emotion in your voice. Abandoning your three glasses, you scooted around the counter, then around them, heading towards the kitchen door that they had been blocking the whole time. “Please have all communications about the property go through Mr. Shin. He’ll be able to answer your questions better than I can.”

Crying at a wake was normal. Encouraged even. But you weren’t amongst loved ones, remembering someone you’d lost. You were alone, sitting at the top of the stairs in the dark, crying into your arms to muffle your sobs as you tried to compose yourself from the confrontation you’d just survived. Barely. Your hands were balled into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Are you okay?” A quiet voice caught your attention, gentle, then hushed as he seemed to be speaking to himself, “Why are you asking that? Stupid, stupid.”

You picked your head up out of your arms, quickly wiping the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks as you spotted a young man at the bottom of the stairs. He had dark hair and was dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt, and what looked like a black cardigan over the shirt. You didn’t recognize him from the wake, but you hadn’t greeted everyone, nor did you know all the mourners personally. Many were either family friends of Hyukjun’s from before he met your mother, old colleagues, or distant relations.

Sniffling and trying to right your clothes, you offered him as much of a smile you could muster, “I’m sorry, it’s uhm, been a long day.”

He froze, his eyes locking on yours and going wide. The man looked behind him, as if expecting you to have been addressing somebody else, and upon seeing an empty hallway, he turned back to you and hesitantly replied, “That’s… okay. Are you alright?”

“Oh, as alright as I can be, I suppose,” you admitted, dabbing at your eyes with your sleeve again. You weren’t sure why you were telling this random man that, but he had spotted you sobbing at a wake, so there wasn’t much of a point in covering that fact up. “Were you looking for the bathroom or…?”

“No, just stretching my legs.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “I don’t think I saw you at the funeral. How did you know my stepdad? Family friend?”

“Yeah, I was around when his kids were growing up.”

“Oh, are you a childhood friend of his sons or something?”

“Friend is a stretch, I think,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly as well, adding a polite but hollow, “I’m sure they appreciate you coming out to pay your respects.”

As he shifted on his feet, the shadows on his face lessened, letting you see his features better. You furrowed your brow with interest.

“How old are you? I mean—You don’t look older than me, you must’ve been much younger than them growing up.”

“I-I mean, we weren’t very close,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Feeling bad about putting him on the spot in this sort of scenario, you offered him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that. I didn’t grow up with my stepbrothers, so I guess it’s a bit hard for me to imagine them having friends—Oh!”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you slapped a hand over it, wishing you hadn’t said them, especially not to some stranger, who for all you know could turn right around and repeat it to your stepbrothers. That would be the last thing you needed, to give them another reason to hate you, and by extension, your mother.

“That didn’t come out right!” You desperately tried to backpedal, holding your hands out in front of you. “I-I meant that I haven’t met a lot of their friends, since our parents got together later in life, and—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassured you calmly, taking a couple hesitant steps up the stairs. You scooted over to make room for him to sit next to you on the top step. He pressed himself against the banister, leaving plenty of space between you two. “I didn’t mean to, but I heard some of what they said to you in the kitchen.”

“I would normally be upset at you for eavesdropping, but I’m kind of glad that somebody else heard some of the shit they said to me this time,” you chuckled cynically.

“‘This time?’” He repeated questioningly. “Are they always like that to you?”

“I don’t see them that often. I think the first time I met the middle son was at the wedding, actually,” you said. “They started spending more holidays with their mom instead of Hyukjun when my mom… after her diagnosis.”

“Oh.”

“God, sorry, you don’t need to be hearing all this shit.” You shook your head at yourself. “I mean, I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Jisung.”

“Y/N.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s true. You and your mom are his family, too.”

You messed with the sleeves of your shirt as you stared at the bottom step, gnawing on your bottom lip, ignoring the metallic taste of blood when you broke skin. Finally, once you’d swallowed down the lump in your throat, you replied with a tight, “Thanks. And I mean, I understand why they would be upset. Their dad just died and two people who are essentially strangers to them are now living in their childhood home. Of course they feel weird about it.”

“That’s... gracious.”

“It’s true. And like I said, their dad died, they deserve some grace.” From elsewhere in the house, you could hear your mom calling your name, and immediately jumped to your feet. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

“I understand.” Jisung nodded to you. “It was nice talking to you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for listening, Jisung.” You waved to him over your shoulder as you rushed down the stairs and off in the direction of your mother’s voice.

The next day, you had habitually started preparing three plates of breakfast before you caught yourself. In the first couple days after his passing, it was painfully in the foreground of your mind with everything you did, but this was the first time you’d found yourself going about a daily task and it had slipped your mind. You left the full plate of food in the kitchen to clean up later, and took just yours and your mom’s plates to the kitchen table.

“Do you want to go on a walk after breakfast?” You proposed as you ate.

It was something that Hyukjun and your mom did every morning. Sometimes you joined them, but usually you took the opportunity to clean up around the house or get work done in the quiet. Your mother had no trouble ambulating, it was her mind that was going faster than anything else. With Hyukjun no longer here to walk with her, you didn’t want her to lose that precious time going out, or the exercise. Not to mention, you needed to get out of the house again.

“Oh, I’d love to, sweetie,” she agreed with a smile, one that you noticed didn’t reach her eyes.

“After we’re done, I’ll clean up while you get ready.”

As you scooped the extra food into a plastic container at the end of breakfast, you realized the lid that you’d grabbed was the wrong size. Opening the cabinet that contained all the plastic containers, you squatted down with a sigh, mentally preparing yourself to ransack through the absolute mess that greeted you down there. Hyukjun normally kept it meticulously organized, all containers accompanied by their proper lids, but in your rush to clean up after everyone left the wake late last night, you had effectively ruined all of it.

You tried to just look under a haphazard stack of plastic containers, and they of course all came crashing out onto the kitchen floor. You groaned, plopping down onto your butt as you got ready to have to put them all back. But as you went to pick up the first one, an overwhelming, crushing feeling of loneliness and sorrow hit you like a bus, and you covered your face as you started sobbing. The hot tears stung your eyes, every shaking breath you took hurt your chest, and even the task of putting the tupperware back seemed impossible and monumental now.

Rubbing one of your eyes, you inhaled and forced yourself to grab just one container to put back. “Come on, don’t have time for this.”

Slowly, you put the containers away, until there was one lid left that had slid much further away from you. You crawled over to it, realizing the shape seemed familiar as you held it in your hands. Standing back up, you fitted it over the container of leftovers you had perfectly.

“Huh.” Your sobs petered out as you looked down at it curiously. “That could’ve been easier.”

Throwing open the front door, you grunted as you hauled your heavy grocery bags into the home.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Nayoung’s voice called out. She had increased the frequency and duration of her visits since Hyukjun’s passing, and today you took the opportunity to do some much-needed restocking of the kitchen during her stay.

“Yeah!” You yelled back.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine!” You hopped on one foot as you tried to wedge your other foot behind the door to close it. “Just—Shit!”

The door suddenly came loose, slamming closed even harder than you had opened it. Nayoung came around the corner with wide eyes, looking rather startled.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, taking a couple bags from your hands, looking you over inquisitively.

You looked between your still-raised foot and the door, a bit dumbfounded. You swore you hadn’t kicked it that hard. This wasn’t actually your house, after all.

“Yeah, Nayoung, I’m okay,” you reassured her, leading the way into the kitchen. “Do you have a window open? There must be a cross-breeze or something.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

It was pouring rain outside, the sky dull and gray, occasionally lit up with flashes of lightning. The constant pounding downpour was interspersed with cracks of thunder that would rattle frames on the walls. The weather was so bad that Nayoung couldn’t even make it out, leaving just you and your mom all day. It wasn’t so bad, today was a better day for her. She was calm at least, despite the weather, absorbed in her books for most of the day. Maybe a little too absorbed, as it was hard to tear her away for meals or snacks. But you could get your work done and do chores around the house uninterrupted, and once you finished your own to-do list, you were able to sit down in the living room with her and read as well.

After a particularly bright flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder that made you feel like you were in a low-level earthquake rather than a thunderstorm, the lights went out entirely. You heard the telltale clatter of your mom dropping her book in surprise as she gasped.

“Mom?” You called out to her, both to check on her and so she knew that you were still there.

“I’m okay, sweetie,” she promised. “I just got startled and dropped my book.”

“Stay there,” you directed her, pulling out your phone and turning on your flashlight. You could see that her book had skidded some distance away from her, out of arm’s reach. “I’ll check the breaker. Don’t get up, I don’t want you tripping over anything.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

Opening the utility closet in the laundry room, you threw your hands up in exasperation as you looked over the circuit breaker. You had no fucking clue what you were doing. Right as you had turned on your phone, fully intent on searching the internet for what the fuck you were supposed to do now, the power came back on all on its own.

“Well, there we go!” You called out through the house, starting back towards your mom. “I’m a genius!”

Upon your return to the living room, you stopped when you noticed one key difference: The book was no longer on the floor. It was on the side table next to your mom. There was no way your mom could’ve moved fast enough to have gotten the book and then sat back down in the time since the lights turned back on.

You sighed gently. “I told you not to get up, Mom.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then how’d the book get there?” You pointed to the book knowingly.

“I didn’t—” She looked at it curiously, then at where it used to be on the floor. “Oh… I guess I must’ve… Sorry, sweetie.”

You walked over to rest a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m sorry if I seemed upset with you. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

She patted your hand. “I know, Y/N. You’re doing a good job.”

The rain was still pounding against the windows that night. Your mom had gone to bed a while ago, but your mind was restless. Something had happened again as you were helping your mom get ready for bed. Hyukjun’s reading glasses, which were on the nightstand on his side of their bed, as they had been since he passed, had fallen off with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Not wanting your mom to get spooked about the house again, you reassured her that you had just bumped into the furniture—her back was turned when they fell—but it left you with an uneasy feeling.

You’d pocketed the glasses instead of replacing them on the nightstand, and were staring at them on the kitchen counter now, fondly remembering the way he used to peer at you over the lenses as he read the newspaper in the morning and you made sarcastic quips about whatever headlines were on the pages facing you.

“Hyukjun?” You said his name into the empty air, uncertainty making your voice waver. After a beat of silence, you hissed, “Of course you weren’t going to get a reply, stupid, stupid.”

Trying to gather yourself, you moved to open the freezer, securing the tub of ice cream from inside it. Sitting at the kitchen table with two spoons, you set one in front of Hyukjun’s spot across from you. Glumly spooning some ice cream into your mouth, you barely tasted it as you stared at his empty chair.

“I miss you,” you said softly, not expecting an answer this time. “A lot. It’s not fair. I know that’s what your sons think, it’s not fair that it was you and not her. But… it’s not fair that we only got… so little time with you.”

You sniffled against the oncoming tears, eating another spoonful.

“I wish… I wish my mom had met you earlier, I wish you didn’t leave us so soon, I wish we got more time…” You looked down at the tub in front of you, your appetite gone. “And I wish I wasn’t eating your favorite ice cream by myself.”

You stood back up, taking both spoons with you into the kitchen. Dropping them into the sink to deal with in the morning, you put the ice cream away and shut off the kitchen lights. You left his glasses on the kitchen counter, deciding you would put them back in your mother’s room tomorrow. As you headed up the stairs, you paused at the top step, a memory of Hyukjun’s wake coming back to you. The nice guy who sat with you and listened to you. You really wished you could have somebody to talk to again.

Something in you made you look over your shoulder then, back down at the bottom step. You swore a darker shape was standing there, unclear in the night. Your heart rate spiked.

“Hyukjun…?” You whispered, hesitantly going down one more step to try to make out what you were seeing better. The shadow seemed to back up one step at the same time you did that, and another name came to your mind.

“Jisung?”

The figure moved closer, a beam of moonlight illuminating half of his shocked face. “You remember me?”

You should’ve yelled. You should’ve shouted at him to get out, called the police, any number of things ahead of what you actually did. Getting even closer, you nodded slowly. “Of course I remember you, Jisung.”

He was still staring at you in disbelief. “And you can see me? Again?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, standing on the step right above him. “You’re a ghost.”

It was meant to be a question, but it came out like a statement, like you had known all along, just saying common knowledge.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

You peered at the space around and behind him. “Is my stepdad here?”

“No.” He shook his head. “He wanted to stay, for your mom. I told him if he stayed, he could get stuck. He decided to go.”

“Go… where?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“What about…” You looked up into his dark eyes hopefully. “Is my dad here?”

“It’s just me,” he answered quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad he’s not… stuck. Either of them.” You breathed out, a mixture of relief and disappointment in your chest. Remembering what he told you at the wake, you asked, “You used to live here?”

“Before your stepdad bought it, yeah.”

You recalled the surprise on his face both tonight and at the wake when you addressed him. “You’re not used to being seen, are you?”

“No, I’m not. You’re the first person who’s seen me since…” He trailed off, biting the inside of his cheek as he seemed to be picking his words. “Since I’ve been like this.”

You nodded slowly, understanding what he meant. “Have you been… helping? Picking up my mom’s book? And closing the door? And the tupperware lid and the fork?”

Jisung nodded fervently. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or make you sad. I’m sorry. I just wanted to help you.”

“What about Hyukjun’s glasses today? Did you knock those off?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It was an accident… They were really close to the edge, I didn’t want them to fall off and break. So I tried to move them away from the edge, but there was this thunder, and I dropped them.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the mental image of a ghost getting spooked by thunder, slapping a hand over your mouth as you giggled. Jisung wasn’t laughing, but he did have a soft smile on his features as he looked at you.

“Sorry, sorry,” you were still chuckling as you tried to compose yourself.

“It’s okay…” He assured you. “I’m sorry for dropping them.”

“You didn’t break them, it’s fine.” You looked at him thoughtfully. He was wearing the same thing he was wearing when you met him at the wake, dark pants, dark shoes, a white button-up, and dark cardigan. You tilted your head curiously. “Are you sure my mom hasn’t seen you? She swears the house is haunted, you know.”

“I think she can tell that something is… off, sometimes. But no, she’s never seen me.”

“I’m guessing you have no clue why I can see you right now?” You surmised. “They don’t exactly give you a ghost handbook, do they?”

Jisung shook his head. “No, I don’t know.”

“Thank you again, by the way. For being so nice to me at the wake.”

“They really shouldn’t have been talking to you like that.” He frowned. “They have no clue… He loved you and your mom so much. You two are his family, too.”

You chuckled sadly. “So did you actually hear all of it, then?”

“I was already in there when they went in after you,” he confirmed. “I thought you might… I could create a distraction in another room if it got bad.”

“Do you do that a lot? Follow me around?”

His eyes widened as he clearly began to panic, shaking his head fervently. “N-Not like that! Only like, in normal places! I mean, like, there’s not a lot to do when you’re a ghost stuck in a house, and I think you’re cool—Oh god, I meant, uhm, I mostly stay on the first floor, promise!”

You couldn’t help but giggle again as he had missed the light teasing in your tone. “Mostly?”

Jisung visibly gulped. “I woke you up one time, when your mom was having a really bad time in the middle of the night and your stepdad couldn’t calm her down. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Jisung, it’s okay,” you tried your best to be reassuring, even as you let out choked laughter. “I don’t expect you to sit in a corner for eternity. Thanks for staying in normal places.”

“Thanks for not being creeped out…” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

You let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand. After it passed, you gave Jisung a sheepish smile. “If I go to sleep right now… will I still be able to see you in the morning?”

“You… want to?”

“Yeah.” You smiled and shrugged. “Better than just talking to my mother, Nayoung, and myself like I usually do every day.”

The corners of his lips twitched as he went to nod. “I’ll try to be here in the morning. You should go to sleep.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Jisung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Halfway up the stairs, you turned back around to see him still standing at the bottom, watching you. You threw back a teasing, “Promise you’ll stay on the first floor?”

“Cross my heart.” He made an X over the left side of his chest.

“Not sure how much that’s worth coming from a ghost,” you grinned. “But I guess it’s the thought that counts.”

In the morning, you sat with your feet dangling over the edge of your bed for an extra few seconds, very calmly contemplating your sanity. You had been spending the majority of your time in this house, talking to nobody else except your mother and Nayoung, who came five days a week for three hours at a time, your only other regular human interaction coming in the form of emails or the occasional phone calls with your co-workers. Was it really so unlikely that your brain was inventing someone new for you to talk to? How could you even determine if he was real or not? Did that even really matter?

With a sigh, you got to your feet and shuffled into your bathroom. Your mom had always been an early riser, something that hadn’t changed now, and you had to take care of your own morning routine before she woke up. While the shift in your schedule initially took some getting used to, the daily alone time that you got to devote to your own self-care was something you treasured, and helped you start your day in a good headspace.

Coming out of your bedroom refreshed and in clean clothes, you meandered down the stairs, listening for any signs of life in the rest of the house. If your mom was up, she would at least be moving around her room, if not elsewhere in the house. And then there was the possibility of seeing the ghost again.

Right as you reached the bottom of the stairs, your mom’s bedroom door opened, and she poked her head out. You smiled and walked over to her.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetie.” She took your arm, looking around the hallway.

“You okay?”

“Did he go out?”

You tilted your head, keeping your tone light as you asked, “…He?”

“Hyukjun,” she answered. “He usually leaves a note.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah, he had some errands, said he’ll be back soon. You can get on him about forgetting your note when he gets back.”

Her features relaxed, and she rubbed your back. “Thanks, Y/N. Don’t know what we’d do without you.”

There was a knock on the front door then, and you went to go open it up for Nayoung. As she helped your mom with the rest of her morning, you headed towards the kitchen to start on breakfast. A figure was already at the kitchen table, however, his back to you as he sat in the fourth chair that had always been empty for as long as you’d been in the house. Jisung turned around when he heard your footsteps, giving you a small wave.

“Morning,” you smiled and nodded, hoping you didn’t look too put-off. You weren’t sure if you would’ve been more surprised if he was here or not.

“Good morning.” His eyes followed you as you continued into the kitchen. From his seat, he could still see you over the kitchen counter. His hands were folded politely in his lap, and he watched you as you started pulling out ingredients for breakfast.

“So, what do you do all night?” You questioned. “Do you sleep?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I read, or look at the moon, or think.”

“I think I’d hate being alone with my thoughts for eternity.” You shook your head, bringing down plates from the cabinet.

“It’s not so bad.” Jisung shrugged. “I wasn’t much of a talker before anyway.”

“An introvert?”

“Yes.” He tilted his head curiously. “You don’t normally cook for Nayoung.”

You looked down at the plates in your hand and realized that you had grabbed three instead of the normal two. Nayoung always ate breakfast before coming over, so you just had to make food for you and your mom. You’d done this before, accidentally making a serving for Hyukjun out of habit, but you knew that wasn’t what happened this time.

Putting the extra plate back, you said, “No, I was… I think I was about to make you a plate. Felt like I had a guest over.”

Surprisingly, this made Jisung crack a smile. “I appreciate it. Your food always looks good.”

“I don’t think it’s anything special.” You shrugged, turning on the stove. “I learned to cook from my mother, we just did it to survive. Hyukjun was a much better cook than either of us.”

“To survive?”

“After my dad passed…” You pursed your lips as you tried to think of how to phrase it, pushing around food in the pan. “She sort of closed up. My mom gave me a good life growing up, don’t get me wrong. But it’s hard being a single parent, and she never really made any friends, she spent all her time taking care of me or working. Then when I moved out, she closed up even more. I was kind of afraid she’d close all the way up, until she met Hyukjun.”

“I see…”

You heard footsteps coming from down the hall, and halted your conversation. Nayoung and your mom entered the kitchen dining area just a few moments later, paying Jisung no mind, clearly not seeing him at all.

“Y/N, were you on the phone?” Your mother asked as Nayoung guided her to her usual seat.

Nayoung took Hyukjun’s old place beside her.

“Oh, yeah, work call,” you fibbed. “Something urgent, couldn’t wait until I clocked in, I guess.”

“That’s inconsiderate.”

You chuckled, then looked to the aide. “Coffee, Nayoung?”

“If you’re making some, please.”

“Was just about to start a pot.”

Sitting down at the full table with your food and coffee in front of you, your mother to your left, Nayoung across from you, and Jisung to your right, you couldn’t help but smile, an odd sense of peace settling in your chest that hadn’t been there in quite some time.

That night, after your mother went to sleep, you traipsed into the kitchen, opening up the freezer. Turning to Jisung with the carton of ice cream in your hand, you said, “I don’t suppose you could help me with this?”

“Unfortunately not,” he chuckled.

“Figured I would ask,” you sighed, grabbing a spoon. “Come on, I’m thinking a movie?”

Curled up in the corner of the couch under a blanket, you had just opened the ice cream when you realized you left the remote on the coffee table out of your reach. Jisung was still standing, seeming unsure of where to sit.

“Can you pass me the remote?” You requested, stretching an arm out towards it but ultimately not reaching it.

“Oh, sure, sure.” He picked it up with ease just like you would, handing it off to you.

“Thanks.” You turned the TV on. He was still standing, so you gestured to the rest of the empty couch. “Sit, Jisung.”

“Right,” he mumbled, taking a seat next to you.

“You haven’t seriously been standing there like that this whole time, have you?”

“I… sit sometimes, yeah.”

“Good.” You patted his arm—or you tried to pat his arm, but instead your hand hit the back of the couch, a cold shiver running up your arm starting at your fingertips. You jerked your hand back in alarm, eyes going wide. “Shit! Sorry! Did I just like, smack your lung or something?”

Jisung laughed hard, his nose scrunching up and his hand flying up to cover his mouth as he giggled. “I’ve never thought of it like that. I don’t—I don’t think so, no.”

“It didn’t like, hurt, did it?”

“No. Feels a little weird, like… Ah, I don’t know how to describe it if you’re still corporeal. But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay good,” you breathed out. Looking down at the remote in your hand, you frowned thoughtfully. “How come you could grab this just fine, but I just go through you?”

“It used to happen with objects, too,” he informed you, reaching his hand out towards the coffee table. The ghost moved it down, his hand effortlessly gliding through the table just like yours had gone through him a few moments earlier. “I can control it now. But for some reason, people, I still can’t.”

“That sounds… lonely.”

Jisung shrugged, offering you a sort of sad smile. “Hey, I just spent a few decades not being seen or heard by anybody either. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Alright, what are we feeling?” You hummed as you pulled up the streaming service. “Ghost movie?”

He gave you a skeptical look. “You hate horror movies. You made Hyukjun turn all the lights in the house on when he put ‘Saw’ on.”

“Aw come on, no laugh? Not even a chuckle? Ironic scoff?” You wrinkled your nose at him.

“I’m laughing on the inside.”

“I was very brave for watching it all, though, wouldn’t you agree?” You grinned, grabbing a big spoonful of ice cream.

Jisung’s amused smile was apparent that time. “Very. If I had gold stars to give out, you’d get one.”

“Okay, what about ‘The Batman’? The one with Robert Pattinson, I literally don’t care about the other ones.”

“I’m not sure who that is, but sure.”

“Jisung, I’m about to change your afterlife. Possibly for the worse.”

From when you woke up to when you went to sleep, if you were at home, Jisung was usually around. You found that you didn’t mind his presence, if anything it was comforting, he made the house feel less empty than it would be with just you and your mother—and occasionally Nayoung. You had to catch yourself from talking to him when your mom or Nayoung were within earshot, or looking too obviously at where he was standing or sitting when they were in the room. Your evenings that you used to spend with Hyukjun were now spent with the ghost, watching shows or movies, showing him your favorite music, or just talking.

This morning, as your mom bathed herself and Nayoung waited for her in her bedroom, just in case, you had some extra time. Which you were glad for, as you knew you were moving slow, feeling more like a zombie than a functioning human being as you prepared breakfast. You yawned, covering your mouth with the back of your hand before gripping the tomato again and continuing your cuts.

“So what—”

“Y/N!” Jisung’s cry of warning came before you registered your tomato juice-slickened fingers slipping down the food and under the blade.

You looked down to see crimson red welling up and joining the tomato’s seeds at the same time you felt coldness on your hands. Jisung had tried to grab you, both too late, and in an ill-fated attempt even if he hadn’t been, as his hands went right through yours. You belatedly hissed as your sleep-slogged mind finally registered the pain, made extra by the sting of tomato juice in the cuts. Jisung swore under his breath as he grabbed a kitchen towel instead, wrapping it around your fingers and pressing hard as his other hand knocked the knife out of your uninjured fingers that were still lamely holding it. He reached over to turn the sink on, and pulled you over there by the grip he had on the towel. He couldn’t move your hand under the water once he took the towel off, though, staring at you pointedly.

“Right,” you mumbled, putting your fingers under the stream of the faucet to rinse the cuts clean of tomato guts. “Thanks, Jisung.”

“What—” He was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

You hurriedly ripped off a wad of paper towels to press to your cut, calling out to Nayoung, “I’ll get it!”

You knew Jisung was following you, not bothering to keep his sighs quiet as you peered through the peephole first—habit. A pit formed in your stomach when you recognized the man standing on your doorstep immediately.

Forcing your features into a pleasantly neutral expression, you opened the door just enough to greet your eldest stepbrother. “Good morning, Seohyuk.”

He fixed you with the same wide, dazzling grin that he always had, one that made you think he should be doing real estate instead of whatever his real job was—investment broker or something. He was in a suit, looking like he had stopped by on his way to work. You bit back the urge to look down at your own lounge clothes and hair still damp from your shower.

“Y/N! Good morning!” He was still beaming. “Looking beautiful as always.”

“Can I help you?” You asked politely, stepping onto the porch and forcing him to back up a step off the welcome mat, keeping one hand on the door handle.

He then seemed to have noticed your hand. “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Nicked myself with a knife in the kitchen just now. I’m fine,” you shrugged off his concerns. “Why are you here?”

“Oh my god! We should go in and get that washed out!” His hands fluttered over you with feigned worry, trying to usher you back into the house, put you stayed put, firmly shutting the front door behind you.

“I already washed it out,” you informed him flatly. “What do you want?”

The expressiveness immediately dropped off his face, and a cool, suave smirk overtook it as he sized you up. “Alright. Big girl can handle herself.”

“We’re both adults, Seohyuk, I’d appreciate it if you can act like one and get to your point.”

“Funny, my dad never seemed to think you were one,” he sneered. “You were the little princess he never got to have.”

“If this is all you came for, I’m going back inside,” you sighed, reaching for the handle again.

“I came to inspect the property.” He finally gave you his reason, holding his chin up. “As is my right, to make sure you’re not letting it go to ruins. So you have to let me in.”

Right, as if the house could’ve fallen to the wayside and become dilapidated in a week. You turned back to him, meeting his gaze head-on. It was easier like this, just one of them. Especially Seohyuk, he didn’t have a temper like his younger brothers, nor did his words cut as deep as his mom’s, he was just… a jerk. You could deal with a jerk.

“And, as I’m sure you saw when you continued reading the papers, you have to give me at least twenty-four hours’ notice before conducting any inspection of the property. So, I will see you in twenty-four hours.” You grabbed the door handle again. “Goodbye, Seohyuk.”

You didn’t wait for his response, rushing inside and slamming the door shut behind you. You locked it up as quick as you could, not wanting to take any chances.

“You’re not seriously going to let him come in here?!” Jisung blurted out, wide eyes focused on you. Of course he heard everything again.

As you opened your mouth to answer, Nayoung stepped out your mom’s room hesitantly, worried eyes focused on you. You turned to her instead, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Is there anything I can do, Y/N?” She asked quietly. You didn’t want to know how much she had heard.

“I’ll try to arrange it so the inspection is during your time. If she’s up for it tomorrow, could you take my mom on a walk? I need to be here, and she really shouldn’t be.”

The aide nodded quickly. “Of course, yes.”

Back in the kitchen, Jisung pulled the first aid kit down, and you applied your own bandages to the cuts on your fingers. You could feel his eyes boring holes into your hair as you bowed your head to pay extra close attention to your injuries.

“Y/N—”

“What did you want me to do, Jisung?” You hissed, not meaning for it to come out as venomous as it did. “They’re entitled to inspect the premises, it’s technically also kind of their house. I would’ve been in bigger shit if I told him no!”

The ghost was quiet, and when you finally looked up, you saw the hurt on his own face. You sighed, throwing away the bloody paper towels and bandage wrappers. Rolling out your shoulders and your neck to relieve the tension that had built up there, you loosely wrapped your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I’m not mad at you, none of this is your fault. I’m just… stressed, and I slept like shit last night. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured you. “I just… hate the idea of you and that guy being in this house by yourselves, you know? I don’t trust him.”

“Oh, we won’t be alone.”

“I know I’ll be here, but that’s not the same as having someone who could actually do something.”

“I know you’ll be here, and that’s reassuring,” you replied, an amused smile playing at your lips. “But that’s not entirely what I meant.”

“Mr. Shin, thank you for coming on such short notice,” you greeted the attorney with a polite bow, welcoming him into the house.

Mr. Shin was an older man, around Hyukjun’s age, with salt and pepper hair, who hastily returned the bow. He wore a simple black suit, white dress shirt, and black tie, thick-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he held his black briefcase tightly to his side. He was exactly as you pictured him from speaking to him on the phone yesterday—when you picked up Hyukjun’s papers, you’d only dealt with his secretary.

“Of course, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s my duty,” he replied briskly. “Your stepbrother has not arrived yet, has he?”

“No, I’m expecting Seohyuk in a few minutes.”

“Good, good.”

“Would you like some coffee? Or tea?”

“No, thank you, I couldn’t intrude.” He shook his head fervently. “Your mother isn’t home, is she?”

“She stepped out for a walk just before you arrived. She doesn’t need to be here, does she?”

“No, no, not at all.” He seemed relieved at this news, if anything.

The doorbell rang then, and you smiled at the lawyer. “That should be him.”

Looking out the peephole first, it was in fact Seohyuk. You opened the door wider than yesterday, offering him a polite smile. “Good morning, Seohyuk.”

“Alright, Y/N, it’s been twenty-four hours, let me in.” He skipped pleasantries entirely, a glare already on his features.

“Of course.” You obliged gracefully, opening the door all the way for him.

He obviously hadn’t seen anybody else, as he faltered upon stepping inside and spotting Mr. Shin in the entryway. It was as if a magic spell had been cast on him, Seohyuk straightened up, adjusting his own tie and throwing on his charming smile, offering a hand out to him. “Kim Seohyuk, nice to meet you.”

Mr. Shin once again bowed formally, ignoring the hand in front of him. “Attorney Shin. I’m the lawyer in charge of your father’s estate, and I’ll be overseeing this inspection.”

“Great. Yeah, I’m glad Y/N remembered to call you like we talked about,” Seohyuk lied through his teeth, keeping his voice casual. “She’s been a little all over the place with taking care of her mom by herself since Dad passed, so I offered to, but she insisted she would do it since she only works part-time now.”

You clenched your jaw to not call him a piss-poor liar to his face. Or punch him in the face. His ‘she’s a mess, but we love her’ tone really irked you. Jisung had been lurking in the corner the whole time with his arms crossed over his chest and chose now to mimic choking Seohyuk—it took everything in you not to burst out laughing, but it successfully dissolved the anger that had been bubbling in your veins.

Mr. Shin either didn’t believe him or didn’t care, as he simply nodded and then looked to the both of you. “If there are no questions, we will begin in the kitchen.”

The inspection was uneventful—you passed with flying colors, of course—and at the end, you got to see both Mr. Shin and Seohyuk out at the front door simultaneously.

“I will be making note of this in the estate’s file, of course,” Mr. Shin said in closing. “So as to not intrude on Ms. Y/L/N and her mother too much, inspections are limited to once per year, as you know.”

“What?!” Seohyuk’s jaw dropped. “Th-That’s per person, right? Like, if my brothers wanted an inspection—”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Kim. One inspection of the property per year. Unless good cause is shown.”

“Good cause? Like what?”

“If there is some damage externally that would lead you to believe Ms. Y/L/N has caused similar damage internally, or if she posted pictures to her social media of the inside that showed some damage. Something like that.”

You had to cover your mouth to keep from laughing in Seohyuk’s face as his jaw gaped open like a dead fish. After composing yourself, you gave the both of them a cheerful wave. “So I guess I’ll see you two next year.”

“And hopefully not any sooner!” Mr. Shin confirmed, bowing deeply once more.

You closed the door with a satisfying click. Turning back around to Jisung, you finally burst into laughter with him. He pumped his fist victoriously. “Gone until next year!”

Holding your hand up, you cheered, “Whoo! Come on, ghost five!”

Jisung whooshed his hand through yours, and the chill zipping up your arm only served to make you more excited. Finally, a win in all this.

3:16 a.m.

You glared at your bedside clock like it was doing this to you personally. Rolling onto your other side, you let out a disgruntled sigh. No matter how comfortable you were, how exhausted your bones and your brain were, you couldn’t fucking sleep. Sitting up, you threw your covers off of you and padded out of your room.

In the kitchen, you drank a glass of water, but couldn’t bring yourself to go back upstairs to your room. You wandered into the living room, plopping into your usual corner of the couch and pulling your knees to your chest. Turning your phone on, you once again glared at the time like it was invented to hurt you in particular.

3:20 a.m.

You could be doing something better right now, reading a book, laying very still with your eyes closed, meditating, anything but scrolling on your phone.

3:49 a.m.

Had you ever gotten a good night’s sleep in your life? You couldn’t remember in that moment. Your eyes stung looking at the screen, they stung when you closed them, but you blinked it away.

4:17 a.m.

“Y/N?” Jisung stepped into the living room. “Why are you still up?”

“Mm, Jisung, hey,” you greeted him dully, setting your phone aside on the arm of the couch. “I’m surprised it took you this long to find me.”

“I figured you were just getting a glass of water or something. I didn’t want to bother you. But you’ve been out here for almost an hour now.”

You sighed, resting your chin on your knees. “Can’t sleep.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I slept for a couple hours, but then I woke up and I just... couldn’t go back to sleep,” you sighed.

“Staring at that screen isn’t going to help you get back to sleep.” He frowned.

That made you chuckle. “And how do you know that?”

“Your mom used to get on your stepdad about using screens too close to bedtime,” he confessed. “Something about the light keeping your brain awake.”

You smiled as you could imagine that perfectly. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Can I do anything to help? Do you want like, hot chocolate? Or…” He trailed off as he was clearly wracking his brain for another option.

“You want to keep me off my phone?”

He nodded.

You stood up, your fingers tapping over the spines on the bookcases before you grabbed one. You offered it out to Jisung. “Read to me.”

Jisung gently took the book from you, then nodded to the couch. “Sure. Lay down.”

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” you snorted, taking your phone back off the arm and heading for the stairs. Tilting your head indicatively, you said, “Come on, you get to go to the second floor.”

His footsteps were quiet behind you, squeaking some of the same steps that you did as he followed you up the stairs. You opened the door to your bedroom, stepping in first and holding it open to gesture him in as he had stopped uncertainly by the threshold. Closing the door behind him, you then sat down on your bed again.

“Here.” You patted the empty side of the bed for him.

Jisung shuffled over, sitting up against the headboard with his long legs stretched out on top of your sheets. With amusement, you noted that he was no longer wearing his dark shoes, only black socks. You laid back down under your covers again, pulling your blankets up to your chin.

He clicked the lamp on his side of the bed on, and seemed to have read the title for the first time then. “Poems?”

“My mom used to read to me every night, way past the normal age that you stop doing that stuff I’m pretty sure. And whenever I got nightmares, or couldn’t sleep, I’d climb into her bed. It didn’t matter if I woke her up at two in the morning, she’d grab one of the five or ten books that were always on her nightstand and start reading to me until I fell asleep,” you explained, readjusting your pillow under your head. “That was one of my favorites. I figured it was worth a shot.”

Jisung opened the book to the first poem and began reading. His voice was soft and steady, deep and soothing. Despite your want to keep watching him and the focused look on his face as he read, his dark eyes following the words on the page, your own eventually fluttered shut against your will.

When you woke up, Jisung was no longer in your room. The book was resting on the nightstand on that side of the bed, and the lamp was off. Upon entering the kitchen, you saw Jisung standing at the humming microwave. He perked up when you walked in, despite the confused look on your face.

“Good morning!” He said brightly, then gestured to the microwave. “I’m making you hot chocolate. I heard the shower.”

“And if my mother had walked in and saw the hot chocolate making itself?” You asked dryly, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes. Your shower didn’t do much to wake you up this morning.

Jisung visually deflated, looking around guiltily. “Oh. Right…”

“It’s sweet, Jisung, thank you,” you added with a smile, watching his shoulders relax. “You’re very sweet. I just don’t want to give my mom a heart attack.”

“Of course.” He was smiling again too. “Sorry.”

Sitting halfway down the stairs with Jisung, you stared blankly at the front door. Dinner had been difficult for your mom tonight, and with no Nayoung at that meal, you had to do it all on your own. She was asleep now, and you held your head in your hands. Jisung was quietly sitting beside you, resting his elbows on his knees as his laced and unlaced his fingers in front of him. This was probably one of the best parts about having Jisung around. Despite being practically omnipresent at this point, if you didn’t want to talk, he didn’t talk. If you wanted to chat, he would talk to you about anything, but if you wanted utter silence, he would let you sit in utter silence—he just wouldn’t let you do it alone.

You felt nearly suffocated by the house in that moment, but you couldn’t leave your mom alone.

“Can you go outside?” You lifted your head to ask Jisung.

“Not very far,” he answered as if you were asking any other piece of trivia about him and his predicament.

“The porch swing?”

“Yes, I can go there.”

“Do you want to? Now? With me?”

He chuckled softly. “When have I ever told you no?”

It was a warm night, which you were glad for as you were only in your sleep shorts and a t-shirt as you sat on the wooden porch swing with Jisung. Holding the chain next to your head with one hand, you peered out at the nighttime around you, glad to be out of those walls finally.

“Pretty moon,” you commented, looking up at the silver half-moon above you.

“Mhm,” Jisung hummed his agreement.

“And stars,” you added, taking in the twinkling dots all around the moon.

“Mhm.”

“Pretty stars,” you clarified.

“Mhm.”

Looking at Jisung out of the corner of your eye, you kept the same tone of voice as you said, “Pretty garbage can.”

“Mhm.”

“Jisung?”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Uhm… nothing.” He coughed. “Pretty moon.”

“Mhm.” You hummed back in the same sing-songy tone that he had. “I wish I could touch you.”

“Huh?” He spluttered out.

“Just feels like a nice moment to rest my head in your lap, don’t you think?” You looked over at him, meeting his dark eyes.

He looked down at his legs, then around him in what you would almost call an attempt to avoid your gaze. “Well… we could put one of the pillows on the swing where my lap is, and you can rest your head there and pretend it’s me.”

“That won’t be uncomfortable for you?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Just make sure it’s not too far over here, I don’t want to make you cold.”

After you settled onto your back with your head on a pillow, right on the edge of where Jisung’s thigh started, you could see Jisung and the porch roof directly above you. The corner of his mouth twitched as he looked down at you, and you smiled back up at him.

“Can you push the porch swing?” You requested.

“Sure,” he agreed, and you felt the swing gently push off backwards then sail forward.

You rolled your head to the side to be able to look at the moon again.

“Can I ask…” You poked your tongue on the inside of your cheek. “How did you die? If you want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

Jisung sighed. “I don’t know. I went to sleep one night and when I woke up, I wasn’t in my body anymore.”

You felt your eyes widen involuntarily. “Seriously? You weren’t sick or anything?”

“I felt fine,” he confirmed. “I didn’t even realize until I couldn’t grab the handle to open my bedroom door and leave. My hand just went through it. When I turned back around to my bed, I saw myself lying there. I thought I was still dreaming.”

“God... I’m sorry, Jisung.”

He shrugged, his fingers messing with the edges of the pillow that your head was on. “It could’ve been worse. It didn’t hurt, I wasn’t dreading the end or anything.”

You reached for his face, despite knowing that it wouldn’t work, holding your hand up as if you were cupping his cheek, hovering right on the edge of where your skin passed through each other. “Does that... I always feel cold when I try to touch you. Is this warm? To you?”

“I never notice that I’m cold until I touch you.” He hesitantly put his hand over yours. “Like when you’ve been outside during winter for so long that you don’t even feel temperature anymore. And then you step inside again and you can suddenly feel just how cold you are because everything else is so warm.”

“Is it… I don’t know, nice?”

“It’s… a lot,” he admitted. “It’s not bad, but I can never warm up.”

“Oh.” You took your hand back, resting it on your stomach.

“It’s late,” he said quietly. “Are you tired?”

“No, but I should probably head to bed.” You sat up reluctantly.

Only a few minutes after saying your goodnights, you were at the bottom of the stairs again, searching for Jisung. You found him in the living room.

“Can you read to me?” You asked, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt.

He chose a book off the shelves and followed you upstairs wordlessly. Back under your covers again, you listened to the sound of his fingers running over the edges of the pages, folding back the cover of the book before he started reading. It wasn’t the same book of poems as last time, instead you fondly recognized it as one of your favorite books from when you started reading novels as a kid, about a young girl who went on a grand fantasy adventure with all sorts of magical creatures. In the back of your mind, you thought to yourself that you were a little disappointed that you’d be asleep before the end, when she finally came home to her mother in the real world. That had always been your favorite part.

“Do cameras work on you?” You asked Jisung as you kneeled by one of the flowerbeds at the front of the house. It was early in the morning, and you made sure to keep one headphone in your ear so that any passerby who did happen by on morning walks or jogs would hopefully just think that you were on a phone call.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged, sitting on the porch swing. “I think I would’ve found out if I was in the background of any Kim family photos over the years.”

Curious, you took out your phone, opening up the camera and pointing it at him. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, but in the low light you could see the porch swing just fine, seemingly rocking along on its own on your screen. Taking just one picture, you paused your weeding to look at it from your camera roll. Again, you definitely couldn’t see Jisung sitting on the porch swing like you could with your own two eyes, but there was something going on in the picture this time. The air seemed to shimmer and distort in the vague shape of a person sitting in the photo, exactly where he was in real life. You zoomed in on the fuzzy edges that nearly turned into shadow, squinting as you tried to make out whether the distortion was in the image file itself or part of Jisung somehow.

“Well?” Jisung questioned, tilting his head.

“I got... something.” You stood up, walking over to show him. “It’s not what I see when I look at you. I see, like, a person.”

“Oh.” His face fell as he looked over the photo of the strange figure.

“I think it’s cool,” you tried to cheer him up. “Very mysterious, you know.”

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“I get why you’re bummed, though. It’s probably been a while since you’ve seen yourself, right? I never see your shadow or your reflection. Can you?”

“No, I can’t.” He shook his head. “It’s… I have my dad’s nose, and my mom’s smile. I just thought that even if I couldn’t see them anymore, it’d be nice to see the parts of them that are in me.”

You blinked back the tears that were pricking at your eyes. “I know what you mean. My dad’s mom was alive when I was younger, and she always said I looked just like him. I used to sit on my bathroom counter in front of the mirror with an old picture of him from when he was a kid for hours to try to see it too.”

“Do you look like him?” He asked quietly.

“Don’t you see it? I look just like my mom,” you laughed and shook your head.

Jisung chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t going to spoil your connection to your dad for you.”

“It makes me happy to know that my grandmother saw my dad when she looked at me anyway.” You permanently deleted the photo you’d taken of Jisung. “I’m sure you have something else from your parents that you don’t need a mirror for, though. Like, for me, when I laugh really, really hard, I start wheezing—it’s honestly an awful sound—and clutch my sides and stomp my left foot. My dad would laugh with his whole body like that too. I didn’t even know until my mom pointed it out a few years ago out of the blue. I sneeze like Hyukjun now, too. Don’t even know how I picked that up in such a short time. I was dusting the other day and when I sneezed, I realized it sounded just like him.”

“Really?” He laughed, a real one this time.

“Yeah,” you smiled fondly at the memory. “I’m sure you’ve got lots of pieces of your family in you other than your nose and your eyes, Jisung.”

The ghost held your gaze, his dark eyes that you tried to imagine belonging to some ambiguous father of his that you could never recall, smiling up at you with a smile that matched a memory of his mother you didn’t have. Even if you would never know them, you remembered them in that moment for him.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you leafed through the large tome of local genealogies in front of you. At first you were worried that Mr. Shin would have questions for you as to why you wanted information on the deed of the house, primarily who had owned it before your stepdad bought it. But instead, he simply had his paralegal fetch the information from the previous title search they’d done when drafting the documents for Hyukjun. You took the list of names with you to the local library, where they kept an archive of all sorts of birth, death, and marriage records, including genealogies of local families.

Kim Hyukjun had purchased the home from a husband and wife, the Parks, decades before you were even born. The Parks were the first owners, and despite neither of their names being Jisung, you figured he must be related to them in some way to have lived there before Hyukjun bought it; their son, a nephew, grandson, something.

You finally found a married couple whose names matched, and eagerly read on for their children. They had one child, a son, Park Jisung—deceased.

“Found you,” you whispered to yourself, tapping the name in the book. Taking a picture of all the relevant information, you shut the book and returned it to its place before taking down another one, death certificates.

Finally landing on Jisung’s, you read with bated breath and a morbid curiosity. It started with all the normal stuff—name, age, date of birth, address—and you skimmed on, trying to find the thing that you really wanted to know. But as you got to the end, and desperately re-read again from the beginning, more carefully this time, you realized there was no cause of death listed. They must not have requested an autopsy. As your chest deflated, you shook your head at yourself. What would knowing even change now? You took a quick note of the cemetery listed before shutting the book.

The information—or lack thereof—that you’d gotten from the library was still on your mind when you returned to the house. Nayoung was sitting at the kitchen table, and looked up from her phone when you came in.

“Ah, Y/N, how were your errands?” She asked, clearly noticing your empty hands.

“Fine,” you gave a non-committal answer. “Where’s my mom?”

“She’s taking a nap in her room. She’s been asleep for about fifteen minutes or so.”

“Good.” You glanced at the time on the stove. “You can head out for the day. Thank you, Nayoung.”

“I’ll see you all tomorrow, then.” She stood up and flashed you one more bright smile before showing herself out.

A few moments later, you heard the sound of the front door locking after her, then Jisung entered the room from that direction. He stopped next to you.

“So where’d you go today?” He asked curiously. “You didn’t pick anything up…”

You sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Library. They didn’t have what I needed.”

“What book were you looking for?”

You grimaced at yourself, picking at your nails uncomfortably as you braced yourself to tell the truth. “I wasn’t checking out a book. I was… I was looking up stuff in the archives, about you.”

Jisung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me?”

“I’m sorry, I was nosy and shouldn’t have done that without talking to you first,” you apologized. “I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, you’ve got a ghost living in your house,” he reminded you frankly. “Normal personal boundaries aren’t really applicable here.”

“I… guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“And I mean, all you did was look in the archives, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fine.” Jisung sat in his chair next to yours, leaning forward towards you eagerly. “What did you find out?”

You chewed your lip nervously. “Not much. I know your full name is Park Jisung. Your parents didn’t have an autopsy done, so we still don’t know why you… passed. I know where they buried… you, though.”

He kept looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to say more. But that was all you had. When he realized that you were done, his face fell, and he let out a breath, sitting back in his chair.

“Oh.” He nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry, Jisung.” You instinctively reached for his hand that was resting on the table. You did a double-take when your hand didn’t impact with the wooden tabletop under him, though, but with him.

Jisung’s hand was cool to the touch, but solid, yours didn’t just slip right through it like usual. You stared down at your hands as you readjusted your grip in disbelief.

Your ghost was similarly bewildered, eyes locked on your hands as he squeezed yours back. “Are you…”

“Yeah, I can actually touch you!” You laughed in amazement.

He looked up from your hand to your eyes, lifting his other hand towards your face. “Can I…?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, or even breathe, in that moment.

Jisung’s fingertips gently caressed your cheek, his eyes filled with wonder as he murmured, “You’re so warm…”

“Are you… you know, cold? Is it like before?”

“No, it’s-it’s nice,” he said, clasping your hand with both of his now. “Thank you. For letting me…”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, looking around the kitchen.

“It’s funny, it’s one of those things you take for granted until you can’t do it anymore.”

“What?”

“Touch people.” He squeezed your hand softly. “I used to complain when my mom would kiss me, or my friends would give me hugs. Now… I can’t believe I’m holding someone’s hand again.”

You patted his arm, at a loss for words, but hoping that you could give him some kind of comfort in the moment. It sounded like a heartbreakingly lonely existence. You couldn’t imagine what you would do if you could never hug your mom again, or even bump into strangers on the train—small things that reminded you that you were real, that you took up space.

You felt your heart truly shatter when Jisung leaned over, pressing his forehead to your linked hands, and you saw his shoulders shake with quiet sobs.

“Oh, Jisung,” you whispered, scooting your chair closer to gently stroke his dark hair. “It’s okay…”

Tonight had been rough. This was the third night in a row that you had gone in circles trying to calm your mother down from a frightened state, afraid that every creak of the house settling, gust of the air conditioning rustling a curtain, or wind blowing a tree branch outside was a ghost. Despite being aware that your house was actually inhabited by a ghost, you knew it wasn’t Jisung doing any of those things.

You had finally gotten her back to sleep at almost one in the morning, and shut her bedroom door behind you with a sigh. Shuffling into the kitchen, you stopped in the middle of the room, rubbing a hand over your face as you just stared blankly at the countertop. You couldn’t even remember what you had come in here for.

“Hey,” Jisung called for your attention softly, his quiet footsteps approaching from behind you. “Did you want water? Hot chocolate?”

“Ugh, I don’t even know,” you groaned, turning around and burying your face in his shoulder. “I’m so fucking tired, Jisung.”

“Then let’s get you to bed,” he suggested, trying to usher you out of the kitchen, but you didn’t budge.

Looking up at him, you sniffled, “This is the third night this has happened… I don’t know if I can… What if I can’t—What if—What am I—What if I can’t do it by myself? What if I can’t take care of her like she needs on my own? She’s only going to get worse and I’m… Oh God, I’m tired.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks now as you felt an exhaustion from deep within. You felt it in every fiber of your being, in your bones, deep in your chest. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel worn out like this.

Jisung’s eyes widened as his hands frantically fluttered over your arms and shoulders, clearly unsure of where to settle as he went to try to comfort you. “Ah, Y/N, oh, no. Oh, God, I’m so sorry that you feel so tired. You’re doing so good.” He squeezed your shoulders. “You’re not alone. I know it can feel like that, but you’ve got Nayoung, too. Your stepdad left a fund to pay for your mom’s care, right? You can use that to have Nayoung here more if you need her to, can’t you? I’ve heard her ask if you want to adjust her schedule…”

“Yeah, she has,” you nodded, the admission only making you cry harder. “I just—I don’t want to think about needing more help, about needing Nayoung more, because that really means that she’s getting worse. But I can’t—She needs more than me.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jisung said, his own eyes shining in the dim light. “I wish I could make everything better for you.”

You gave him a shaky smile, the best you could muster in the moment, patting one of his hands that were still holding you by the shoulders. “I know. Thank you, just having you here to listen to me means a lot.”

He wiped at your tears with his thumbs, his hands shaking slightly as he gently cradled your face. “Let me help you however I can—you know, without freaking your mom out. You can take care of your mom and I’ll take care of you. Please.”

It was all you could do to nod your head in his hands. He let out a breath of relief.

“Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the kitchen successfully this time.

At the top of the stairs, you stopped and grabbed his hand, pleading, “Don’t leave me, Jisung.”

He chuckled lightly, lacing his fingers with yours. “Where could I even go? I’m stuck here.”

“I mean, you always leave after I fall asleep,” you explained. “Don’t go this time.”

He nodded, using the index finger of the hand that was holding yours to trace an X over his heart, pulling your hand along with it. “I won’t leave you.”

You fell asleep curled up under your covers, Jisung reading a book of short stories to you, one of his hands resting on your head, fingers gently carding through your hair—a silent reminder of his promise that he would still be there in the morning.

When you woke up, you felt terrible. Not only because of how poorly you had slept lately, but all of your joints and muscles ached, your sinuses felt like they were stuffed up with concrete, your throat was scratchy and sore, and it felt like someone had turned the thermostat up to a million degrees. You winced as you rolled over and threw the covers off of you, already feeling that your sheets and clothes were damp with sweat. Groaning and clutching your head, you involuntarily coughed, having to prop yourself up on your elbow to avoid choking on your own mucus. Gross.

“You’re sick,” Jisung said from the other side of the bed, his voice sympathetic. You’d forgotten that he was even there, actually.

Sitting up, you tried to look as normal as possible, shaking your head. “No, just had something in my throat.”

You winced at the sound of your own voice; it sounded almost as bad as you felt.

“Y/N, you sound awful,” he pointed out. “And you were tossing and turning all night.”

“I’m fine—”

“Y/N.” He was giving you what could only be called a stern pout. “We just talked about this last night.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but faltered at the intensity of his gaze. Letting the tension fall from your shoulders, you grabbed your phone off your nightstand. “I’ll see if Nayoung or another aide can stay all day.”

Jisung finally smiled at that, standing up and moving to leave the room. “I’ll make you breakfast before your mom wakes up.”

You watched him walk to your door, and instead of grabbing the handle to open it, walked right through it. That must be why you were never woken by the sound of the door when he would leave in the middle of the night before.

Once Nayoung arrived, you hauled yourself out of bed and to the doctor’s office. As soon as you got back, you trudged right back upstairs. From the living room, you could hear the sounds of your mother and the aide chatting. In your room, you shrugged off your jacket and had just grabbed the hem of your shirt when Jisung appeared through the door.

“So what did—”

“Ah!” You yelped, yanking your shirt back down and whirling around to stare at him incredulously.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Jisung sputtered out, covering his eyes.

“Knock! I know you can!” You yelled, gesturing at the door with exasperation. “What is wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t think—I’m sorry!” He fully backed up and out of your room through a solid wall, still covering his eyes.

A few moments later, you heard soft footsteps accompanied by creaks on the stairs. Nayoung’s voice came next, “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, Nayoung, I’m fine,” you called back. “Just stubbed my toe getting dressed.”

“Alright…” She didn’t sound like she believed you, but apparently wasn’t going to press the issue. “I have another visit to make today, so another aide from the service will be here in the afternoon to take over from me. Her name is Hyesoo.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

“I’ll say goodbye when I leave.”

“Thanks.”

You heard her retreat down the stairs, and finished getting changed in peace. Sitting down on your bed, you then heard a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Come in,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jisung stepped through the door, averting his eyes to his feet guiltily. “Sorry...”

“Forget about it, Jisung,” you sighed, flopping all the way under your covers. “I’m too sick to be mad at you.”

“What did the doctor say?” He asked, perching on the edge of your bed.

“It’s just a cold, but he said that all the stress I’m under isn’t helping,” you huffed, fluffing up your pillow under your head. “He gave me some meds, they’re in my bag.”

Jisung picked up your tote bag from where you’d dropped it by your nightstand, handing it to you. “I’ll get you some water to take them with.”

After he’d left the room, you set two of the bottles on your nightstand, and tucked the third in the drawer. Your ghost came back soon with a glass of water, and you eyed him suspiciously as he gave it to you.

“Nobody saw the floating glass of water?” You questioned, sitting up to be able to properly take a sip.

“Your mom and Nayoung were in the backyard,” he confirmed, watching you knock back the pills. “Are you hungry?”

You shook your head, shuffling back under the covers. “Sleepy. That doctor’s visit took a lot out of me.”

“Take a nap.”

“Will you wake me up before Nayoung goes?”

“Sure. But sleep right now.”

You were faintly aware of Jisung’s cool hand resting on your head as you let yourself get swept away by sleep.

Blinking your eyes open, you were greeted by the inky blackness of your ghost’s eyes first. Jisung was laying on top of the covers on the other half of your bed, cheek resting on his hand as he gazed at you. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you rolled onto your back, suddenly feeling much warmer under the intensity of his eyes.

“The other aide just arrived, Nayoung is getting ready to leave,” he informed you quietly.

“Mm,” you grunted in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Still feel like shit,” you admitted. “The doctor did say the meds wouldn’t start working until the second or third dose.”

You heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and both you and Jisung went quiet. There was a soft knock at your door.

“Y/N?” Nayoung said your name quietly.

“Yes, Nayoung?” You replied.

“I’m heading out. Hyesoo and your mom are in the living room. There’s an extra serving of lunch, would you like me to bring it up for you?”

You were hungry now, and against your instincts, agreed, “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. I’ll warm it up for you, give me a few minutes.”

You stared up at the ceiling bitterly, trying to swallow down the uncomfortable, shameful bile rising up in your body. You don’t have to do everything yourself, you can accept people’s kindness, you can let people help you. This was exactly what you were getting upset with Hyukjun for doing, putting others before himself at the detriment of his own health. If you didn’t take care of yourself, your mom wouldn’t have any family left to take care of her—only Hyukjun’s fund to pay for more aides.

“Y/N, I’m setting it down outside your room,” Nayoung’s voice was back outside your door, startling you. You hadn’t even heard the stairs this time. “I made you some tea, too. I hope you feel better. See you tomorrow.”

You were out of your bed and opening the door before Jisung could. Nayoung was still on the top step, and looked over her shoulder, clearly a little startled. You looked down at the plate of food and steaming mug of tea, recognizing it as Hyukjun’s favorite coffee cup. Tears suddenly filled your eyes, but you didn’t move to hug her, knowing that she’d be visiting more elderly and possibly immunocompromised patients today. Instead, you stayed put in the doorway, giving her a small smile.

“Thank you, Nayoung.” You couldn’t string together any more words than that, but she seemed to get it anyway.

She beamed back at you, her young features holding a gentle understanding and wisdom. “You’re welcome. Rest well, Y/N.”

After getting ready for sleep that evening, you were sitting with your feet hanging over the side of the bed, taking your next doses of medications. You took the two on the nightstand, then pulled open the drawer to fish out the one that you had put away earlier. The nap you’d taken earlier had thrown off your sleeping pattern, you weren’t near tired enough despite the time.

“Y/N?” Jisung lightly touched your shoulder. “Everything okay?”

You were staring at the orange pill bottle in your hands, gnawing on your bottom lip. “What if I can’t see you?”

“What?”

“He gave me stuff to help me sleep.” You looked up from the bottle to your ghost. “But what if I take it and I can’t see you anymore?”

Jisung sat down next to you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and took the bottle from you. He turned it over in his hands as he spoke, “You could see me before you started having problems sleeping, right?”

You thought about this for a moment, then slowly nodded, relieved.

“And even if you took these and couldn’t see me anymore for some reason—I would rather you be well than see me,” he said, pushing the bottle back into your hand and wrapping your fingers around it. He held your eye contact sincerely. “Okay?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded. “Okay…”

Jisung watched silently as you opened the bottle, shook one out into your palm, closed the bottle back up, and knocked the tablet back with some water. He stood up to move to his usual spot against the headboard, grabbing the book that was sitting on the nightstand. You crawled under the covers, watching him open the book to where he left off.

“Jisung?”

“Yes?” He turned his gaze from the pages to you.

“Will you—” You sniffled, rubbing at one of your eyes as you yawned. “Will you just lay with me?”

“Oh. Sure.” He closed the book back up and set it aside, then laid down on top of the covers facing you. “Do you want the lamp off?”

“Mhm… please…”

He reached behind him to turn the light off, plunging the room into darkness. You could barely make out the outline of him from a strip of moonlight filtering in from a gap between the curtains. Your eyes were getting heavier, and you desperately fought to keep them open, just in case this was the last time you could see him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jisung murmured. He crossed his finger over his heart. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Jisung,” you managed to mumble back as your eyes fluttered shut.

When you woke up, you were face-to-face with Jisung, his eyes shut this time, eyelashes resting delicately on his cheeks. You would’ve almost felt bad for what you were about to do, but you didn’t think that ghosts actually needed sleep, so you threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest.

“Y/N?!” Jisung squeaked, freezing up under you. “What’s—”

“I can see you!” You cheered victoriously, your voice muffled by his shirt.

He let out a sigh of relief, one of his hands tentatively patting your back. “And a good morning to you, too.”

It was a couple weeks later, and you were all better. Just in time for winter, too. You let out a huff as you heaved your groceries up the porch steps, your breath coming out as a puff in the cold air. Unlocking the front door, you grinned when it was immediately opened for you, Jisung on the other side. He closed it behind you, taking your hat off you and brushing stray snowflakes from your hair, his brow furrowed in concentration. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, well aware of the sounds of your mother and her new evening aide, Hyesoo, in the kitchen already. He just smiled and murmured “You’re welcome” back.

“Oh, Y/N, back already, dear?” Hyesoo greeted you brightly as you walked into the kitchen. The two of them were playing cards at the kitchen table. Hyesoo was an older woman, closer to your mom and Hyukjun in age, but insisted on you calling her by her first name nevertheless.

“Yep, just had one stop to make today!” You informed them, putting your bags onto the kitchen counters. “I think the snow kept everyone away, too.”

“It was snowing?” Your mom questioned, the disapproval clear in her tone. “You didn’t walk all the way there, did you?”

“I wore all my layers, Mom, promise,” you chuckled, beginning to unpack the groceries. “And my snow boots!”

“I’ll put those away,” Hyesoo insisted, setting her cards down and standing up. “You go warm up, we’ve got a fire going in the living room.”

“Well, I do have some work to get done before dinner...” You said sheepishly. “Thanks, Hyesoo!”

You took the stairs two at a time up to your room to get your laptop, then ran back down to sit in front of the fire with it. Opening up your email first, you were unsurprised when a familiar figure sat down beside you, holding his hands out towards the flames. You hummed to yourself as you answered a couple emails, marking some under your to-do list to deal with later, getting the easier ones out of the way first.

“Ugh, not him again,” Jisung complained from next to you, having been reading them over your shoulder. “Decline!”

You elbowed him with an eyeroll, whispering under your breath, “He’s my boss, I can’t decline a meeting with him.”

“He’s not technically your boss.”

“Okay, supervisor. Still, I can’t decline a meeting with him.”

“They’re never about anything important.”

“Yeah, that’s every meeting ever.”

“He’s just doing it to talk to you. It’s an abuse of power.”

“We’re working on a project together and he’s actually in the office and I’m not. He gives me updates. It’s helpful.”

Jisung made a ‘hrrmph’ sound, pulling his knees to his chest as he opted to stare into the fire instead. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, mild amusement on your features.

“What? Are you jealous or something?” You teased. “He’s like, married with three kids. Have I not mentioned that? He just doesn’t know how to use computers so he makes everything a video call meeting.”

“Oh.”

“Jealous, jealous...” You said in a sing-song voice. “I already spend almost 24/7 with you, what more could you want?”

You had meant it to be rhetorical, but you swore Jisung’s mouth opened, about to answer, when Hyesoo walked in.

“Hey, I’m going to start on dinner, unless you had something planned?” She pointed to the kitchen over her shoulder.

“No, no, go for it,” you waved her off. “I have to take a call anyway. If I’m late, start without me.”

“Weren’t you just on one?”

So you hadn’t been as quiet as you’d hoped.

“Yeah, different department,” you fibbed quickly, getting to your feet and bringing your laptop with you.

You could hear the soft footfalls of Jisung following you, and at the top of the stairs, you turned around to put a hand on his chest, satisfied that Hyesoo wouldn’t be able to see you here. Jisung pouted, looking down at the hand you had on his chest.

“Work call,” you whispered, gently pushing him back. “Wait downstairs. Please.”

He nodded, not looking very happy about it, but descended the stairs anyway. It’s not like there was anything that happened on your work calls that Jisung couldn’t hear, but you didn’t want to risk a floating object in the background, you looking over at Jisung, or otherwise reacting to him in any way during one of your work calls. It was just easier to concentrate without him there.

The call with your supervisor once again really could’ve been an email, but you didn’t mind catching up with him after you got through the two or three minutes of real work conversation that you had. He was a younger guy, and had been one of the people that you were friendlier with when you actually worked in the office full-time. He filled you in on how his three kids were doing, as well as his wife, who you would always chat with at office social events. He asked about how your mom was doing, and you did inform him that she needed aides in two shifts now, to which he reminded you that if you needed to adjust your schedule or workload, that could be discussed. You appreciated that, but if your workload was any lighter, you wouldn’t be employed, and you needed money. The fund from Hyukjun paid for your mother’s medical care, but you still needed to cover the rest of your living expenses like food, utility bills, incidentals, and yourself.

“And you know those staff dinners that get put on your calendar aren’t just to say we invited everyone,” your supervisor added. “You really are wanted there. We know it’s difficult with your mom, but everyone still talks about you.”

You smiled to yourself. “Thanks. Her evening aide is going to be staying the night a few days a week now, so I might be able to make it out one of these days.”

“No pressure, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know,” he leaned back in his own office chair, and seemed to take a glance at the time for the first time in a while. “Sorry, I’ve kept you for a while.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Choi,” you reassured him. “I always enjoy our chats. Give your family my best, will you?”

“Oh! I’m late for dinner!” He suddenly shot up straight in his chair. “Thanks, Y/N. I’ll talk to you soon!”

“Goodbye, Mr. Choi,” you chuckled, hanging up the call.

Closing your laptop, you went back downstairs to the kitchen to see your mom sat at the table, reading a book. Jisung was sitting in his chair across from her, and turned around expectantly at the sound of your feet. You poked your head into the kitchen to check on Hyesoo, who looked like she was still cooking.

“Hi, Mom,” you announced your presence to your mother, coming around the table to her seat.

She looked up at you with a smile, her eyes clearly focusing on you. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders from behind, resting your cheek on the top of her head. She held onto your arms with one of her hands, squeezing gently.

“What are you reading?” You asked, trying to glean any information from the pages that were opened in front of you.

“Oh, this was Hyukjun’s favorite book,” she explained, closing it on her finger to let you see the cover. “I was thinking about him today…”

“I think I read that in a Lit class I took in undergrad,” you commented. “I never knew it was his favorite.”

“Funny enough, it was your father’s favorite too.”

“Here I spent my whole life thinking ‘Goodnight, Moon’ was Dad’s favorite book,” you snickered, referencing the answer he had given you when you were a kid, one of the many children’s books you had at the time.

“Well, he didn’t really want to tell you about this sort of book when you were that little, I think.”

“Can you let me know when you’re done with that book?” You requested. “I think I’d like to reread it.”

“Of course.”

Hyesoo came into the dining area then with three plates, and you let your mom go to take your seat. Your mother set her book aside as dinner was set in front of her.

“Did you look at the mail today, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“I skimmed it, threw out the junk,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your food. “Why? Did you?”

Your mom must’ve had a very good day today. She usually didn’t bother with things like the mail at all.

“Did you see that Seohyuk’s getting married?”

“Yeah, again,” you snorted. This was marriage number three, if you were up to date on your stepbrother lore. “I’m surprised we even got an invite.”

“Y/N.” Your mother said your name sternly.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Clearing your throat, you kept your tone more neutral as you said, “Yeah, I saw. Good for them.”

“What do you think?”

“About what? I just said good for them?”

“Going.”

You looked at her incredulously. “Like, to the wedding?”

“He’s family, Y/N.”

“Hyukjun was family,” you didn’t mean to snap at your mom like you did, your voice filling with vitriol. “They’re just three assholes that Hyukjun had the misfortune of being related to. We don’t owe them shit.”

“Y/N!” Your mother gaped at you.

Hyesoo and Jisung had both been silently watching the two of you go back and forth, and you suddenly became aware of the presence of two others in the room again. You took a deep breath in, looking over at the aide.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pushing your chair back from the table. “Good food. I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Y/N, sweetie, can we—”

You ignored your mom’s pleas to talk, scraping off your plate into the garbage and putting your dishes in the dishwasher before storming upstairs. Flopping onto your back on your bed, you stared up at your ceiling fan.

When you heard a knock on your door some time later, you rolled your eyes, but called out to Jisung anyway, “Come in!”

Your door handle turned and opened, revealing not Jisung, and not even your mother, but Hyesoo. She paused at the doorway, obviously aware that you hadn’t been expecting her.

“May I come in?” She requested.

You sat up straight on your bed, nodding. “Sure.”

Hyesoo came and sat beside you, leaving a polite distance between the two of you. “I don’t want to overstep, Y/N… But I imagine there’s some stuff that has happened between you and your stepbrothers that your mom doesn’t know about?”

“Yeah, lots,” you scoffed. “They hate us. They’ve always been rude to me, but ever since Hyukjun left us the house… it’s just gotten worse.”

“When’s the last time you saw or talked to one of them?”

You breathed out. “Uh… probably when Seohyuk came to inspect the property a few months ago now. Mom didn’t even know it happened, Nayoung took her for a walk.”

“Hyukjun was family to you, right? That’s what you just said.”

“Doesn’t meant his shithead sons have to be my family,” you retorted. “They said to me, at his wake, that my mom and I weren’t his family. Like, how awful do you have to be?”

“Hyukjun saw you as his family. His wife’s daughter,” she said slowly. “Do you think, your mom might see Hyukjun’s sons the same way? I’m not saying you have to. But consider your mom’s feelings for a moment.”

You took a deep inhale, trying to separate your thoughts from your own swirling emotions in that moment. “I… I didn’t think of that.”

It was then that you saw she had something in her hands, and she held out two small pictures to you. One was the wedding invite, a picture of Seohyuk and his fiancée smiling on the front. The other was of a young man around Seohyuk’s age, the image grainy, as it was clearly older and taken on film. It was undeniable who this was, though—Hyukjun.

“Your mom was showing me some photo albums earlier, when she saw the wedding invite,” Hyesoo explained. “She didn’t say it, but don’t you think he looks so much like his dad?”

You swallowed the anger in your throat, eyes tracing over the two photos, the similar smiles, the way their crow’s feet crinkled, their noses, cheekbones, and jawlines. It was hard not to see Hyukjun in his eldest son now.

“Yeah, he does,” you agreed.

“Nobody is saying you have to go to the wedding and be best friends with your stepbrothers,” she said. “Or at least, I'm not saying that. But it might be a good idea to think about why your mom would want to go. Those ‘assholes’ are living, breathing pieces of Hyukjun that are still walking around. They’re his sons, and maybe she wants to feel connected to him by connecting with them.”

“He was such a good guy,” you reached for the picture of Hyukjun, holding it between your fingers. “How did he raise three absolute fucking jerks?”

“A mystery we’ll never be able to solve.” Hyesoo clicked her tongue. “I’m about to help your mom get ready for bed, do you want to talk to her before?”

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, let me do that.”

She handed you the wedding invite as well, standing up from your bed. “She’s in her room. Let me know when you’re done.”

Steeling your nerves, you knocked lightly on your mom’s bedroom door. “Mom? It’s Y/N.”

“Come in, sweetie.”

You opened the door quietly, immediately spotting her sitting on the corner of her bed, as if she had been waiting for you. Sitting down next to her, you took her hand, squeezing it.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” you started. “I should’ve listened to you instead of being rude and talking to you like that. I was only thinking about my feelings about Seohyuk and them, and not yours. Can you tell me more about why you want to go to the wedding?”

“I-I know you and your stepbrothers haven’t gotten along, sweetie,” she prefaced her reasoning. “But… When I think about the fact that Hyukjun won’t get to see this… Even if he did see the first two, you know.”

The both of you snickered a little at that, bumping your shoulders together affectionately. You held the two pictures out to her just like Hyesoo had done to you.

“I get what you’re saying, Mom,” you leaned your head against hers, looking at the nearly identical visages of Seohyuk and Hyukjun. “I miss him too. If this will make you feel closer to him, or that you’re honoring him or something like that, then we should go. I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” She ran a thumb over the picture of Hyukjun.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” You asked Jisung, searching the table for your next puzzle piece. Your mom had gone to sleep and the two of you were putting together a jigsaw puzzle in your relaxing time before your own bedtime.

Jisung dropped his own puzzle piece that he had been trying to place, staring at you from across the coffee table. “My what?!”

“Your birthday. It’s next week.” You finally fished an edge piece out. “When I looked up the genealogy stuff, it had your birthday on there.”

“I mean, I figured that’s how you knew, but I didn’t think you’d actually—I don’t know, I’m surprised.”

“What? It’s probably been a while since you’ve celebrated it, right?” You put your puzzle piece down. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, I just figured it might be nice.”

“No, I-I’d like that,” he smiled softly. “Just don’t get me a cake with an accurate number of candles in it, please.”

“I think that’d get more candle wax on it than frosting.” You wrinkled your nose, making him roll his eyes. “Are you telling me I have to plan it? I asked you what you want to do.”

“Just you remembering is enough to make my birthday feel special this year, Y/N.” Jisung reached across the table to grab your hand. “I don’t really care what else happens. But I’ll think of something, promise.”

One week later, and Jisung’s birthday lined up with a night that Hyesoo was staying over, so you couldn’t use the living room, as she slept on the couch whenever she stayed. So the two of you retreated to your bedroom after dinner. Closing the door behind you, you turned to Jisung with your arms crossed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You still haven’t told me what you want to do for your birthday,” you reminded him, tapping your foot. “And your birthday’s almost over.”

“I know what I want,” he reassured you. “But you need to change into your pajamas first, so—”

And with that, he stepped back and through the wall, out of your room. You begrudgingly changed from your casual daywear into your pajamas, then called for him to come back in. Your ghost popped back in immediately, heading towards his side of the bed. You watched him suspiciously as he sat down and grabbed the book on the nightstand. Instead of turning on his lamp as he would usually do, though, he reached over to the lamp on your side of the bed and clicked it on, then offered the book out towards you.

“I want you to read to me tonight,” he requested.

“That’s it?” You frowned.

“That’s it,” he confirmed. “You can sing me ‘Happy Birthday’ too, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You took the book from him and sat down against the headboard, pulling your covers over your lap. Jisung laid down on top of the blankets, looking up at you, waiting. You sighed and shook your head, fondly brushing some of his hair out of his face.

“Happy Birthday, Jisung,” you said, opening the book to where he had left off when he’d been reading to you.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going,” Jisung grumbled, handing you a lid to the plastic container.

“Me neither,” you sighed your agreement, snapping the container shut.

Today was finally the day of Seohyuk’s wedding. You, your mom, and Nayoung had just finished up lunch, and the aide would be helping her get ready while you got yourself dressed. Your ghost had made his distaste of the situation plenty clear.

“You couldn’t just send money and a card?”

“My mom wanted to go, and she doesn’t have another daughter to go with her,” you put the leftovers into the fridge. “I would’ve looked like a bitch sending her with an aide while I stayed home. And felt like a bitch.”

“Can’t believe that guy has even found three people who wanted to marry him.”

You laughed heartily at that. “Me neither. It’s got to be the money. Investment brokers make good money, right?”

“To fuck if I know,” your ghost snorted.

“Anyway, stay here while I get ready.”

Jisung saluted you, making you chuckle a little as you left the kitchen. The dress code was cocktail, unfortunately for you, meaning that you had to dress in the nicest outfit you’d worn since Hyukjun’s funeral. Most of your day-to-day wear was lounge clothes lately. After putting on your outfit, and doing your hair and makeup as well, you did a final once-over in the mirror, honestly a bit surprised at yourself.

Walking back downstairs, you could tell that Nayoung was still helping your mom in her room, so you looked around instead for Jisung. You saw his dark head of hair sitting on the couch in the living room, and started that way. He turned upon hearing your footsteps, jaw actually dropping when he spotted you.

“You’re going to catch flies like that,” you teased, pushing his chin back up as you stopped in front of him.

He looked up at you with wide eyes instead. “Woah…”

“Good woah?”

Jisung nodded, standing up and offering you a hand. You gently placed yours atop it, and he lifted it to twirl you around, making a giggle bubble out of you.

“Great woah,” he confirmed. “So not fair you look like this for that asshole’s wedding.”

“It’s not for him,” you scoffed. “It’s for me.”

“Still… I think the bride is going to get jealous.”

“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes, putting your hand over his mouth insistently, despite you being the only person in the house that could hear him. “You’re awful, you know that?”

He was obviously grinning behind your hand, eyes crinkling up with a mischievous twinkle. You sighed and dropped your hand from his mouth.

“So not fair to be that cute when I’m trying to be mad at you,” you huffed, pinching one of his cheeks.

“Ow,” he pouted, covering the reddened skin once you’d let go.

You heard your mom’s bedroom door open, and her and Nayoung came out a moment later. You walked over to give her a hug.

“Mom, that dress is so pretty,” you complimented her.

“Oh, Y/N,” she cupped your cheek. “You look so beautiful, sweetie.”

“You’re really beautiful, Y/N,” Nayoung added quietly.

“Oh, thank you,” you brushed down your outfit. “Thank you for your help, Nayoung. We should be good to go, I think.”

“Yes, yes, we need to get going!” Your mom clapped her hands together. “Don’t want to be late!”

After putting your mom to bed following the reception, you crept out of her room with your heels in hand. Jisung was at the bottom of the stairs, clearly waiting for you. He held his hands out to take your shoes from you, following you upstairs.

“So how was the wedding?” He asked, stopping outside your door to let you get changed inside in peace.

“Oh, it wasn’t bad, actually,” you answered him as you got undressed. “I think everyone was on their best behavior because it was a wedding, you know?”

“That’s good.”

“Seohyuk’s wife is actually really nice,” you informed him, chuckling in disbelief. “I hope he treats her right. And if not, I hope she’s got a good pre-nup.”

“Did your mom have a good time?”

“Oh yeah, she tore up the dance floor.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” Finally in your pajamas, you called out, “You can come in.”

Jisung materialized through the door, and went to put your shoes away for you that he was still holding. “I’m glad you two had a good time.”

“Me too.” You plopped into bed, feeling the exhaustion of the night hitting you all at once. “I’m almost glad that I went.”

“Almost?”

“I’m still thinking about how I could’ve spent all night in my pajamas instead of getting hit on by Seohyuk’s best man.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm…” You yawned and pulled your blankets up over you as Jisung sat down against the headboard and robotically grabbed the book on the nightstand.

“Was ‘fuck off’ not clear enough for him?”

“Didn’t tell him to fuck off,” you shrugged.

“What?!”

You winced and rubbed your ear. “Loud…”

“Sorry, sorry,” he quieted his voice down again.

“I was bored, and he wasn’t a jerk about it or anything,” you explained simply, closing your eyes and pushing your cheek against your pillow. “Still would’ve rather been here in my pajamas with you, though.”

“Oh. Okay…” Jisung took a deep breath, opening the book up to pick up where he’d left off in the story.

You were putting leftovers from dinner away some nights later as Hyesoo dispensed your mom’s medications for the upcoming week. You knew your worry was written all over your face. Your mom had been having so many good days—so many lucid days—lately, but today was bad. She asked you why you weren’t at school multiple times, refused to eat, and had another fit over the house being haunted. You were putting her plate of food away right now, entirely untouched.

“It was stupid,” you sighed. “For me to think she was getting better. I know her diagnosis—she’s only going to get worse.”

“There will be ups and downs, Y/N,” the aide reminded you gently. “The important thing is to not blame yourself for any of it.”

You sighed. “You’re right. Thanks, Hyesoo.”

“You don’t have work to do after this, do you?”

“A little bit. You’re staying the night, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Good, good.”

“You know, I’ve been doing this for a while, dear,” she said kindly, shaking out a few pills. “And while I don’t know everything, I do know you can’t run yourself into the ground trying to take care of them. Or else there will be nothing left of you, and then how will you take care of her?”

“I know, it was hard to focus on work today, that’s all.”

“I mean—I’ve been with you all for some time now, and when was the last time you hung out with your own friends? Or went on a date? You’re a beautiful young lady, you’re doing the world a disservice staying cooped up in here all the time.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Really—”

“I’m being serious! Just think about it, dear. I promise, taking some time to keep living your life now won’t be the end of the world. This way, you’ll have a support system when you need it.”

You nodded in understanding, putting the leftovers away with robotic movements as your brain continued turning over her words.

Just about a week after that conversation with Hyesoo and you were fixing your hair in the mirror when a gentle knock came at your bedroom door. You called out to the person as you continued messing with your hair. “Come in!”

Jisung phased through your door. “Dinner’s ready, are you—”

He stopped his words as he seemed to take in what you were wearing, tilting his head with a curious frown. “You got changed?”

“I’m going out for dinner,” you told him, leaning over to focus on putting your earrings in.

“Out? Like, a work thing?”

“No, I’ve got a date.”

“What? With who?” He sputtered, then collected himself a little. “I mean—This is the first I’ve heard of it. How did you meet them?”

“His name’s Dongmin. I met him at the wedding last week.”

“Wait, don’t tell me he’s the best man you were talking about?”

“He gave me his number.” You shrugged. “So?”

“I thought you didn’t even like him?”

“What does it matter to you?” You crossed your arms.

“What do you—? Of course I care if you’re going on a date with some creepy guy who you don’t like.” Jisung ran a hand through his hair.

“I reached out to him, Jisung.” You didn’t know why you were getting so defensive, why you felt so on edge at the moment.

He crossed his arms. “Why did you hide it from me?”

“I didn’t hide it from you,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“Yeah, but this is—”

“What? This is what?”

He held his hands up in surrender, looking away from you. “Never mind. Hope you have fun.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t passive aggressive,” you snorted, grabbing your phone. “You’re just pissed because I’m the only person you can talk to all day but I get to actually leave this stupid house and hang out with people other than you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jisung glared back at you, raising his voice to match yours. It was quite possibly the most venomous you’d heard the normally soft-spoken ghost be towards you. “You leave the house all the time, you always talk to your mom or her aides. I don’t give a shit.”

You checked the time on your phone, setting your jaw. “I need to go. I don’t have time for you to keep avoiding what you’re actually trying to say.”

“Oh, right, I’m the only one avoiding,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Lalala! Not listening! Too busy avoiding!” You said in a purposefully childish, loud, and sing-songy voice, plugging one ear as you threw your door open and slammed it shut behind you.

The lights in the house were dark when you got back. Good, you didn’t want to face Hyesoo like this. It was already going to be bad enough risking running into Jisung. Hopefully he was still pissed at you and would stay scarce. Taking a deep breath to dampen your sobs for a few moments, you unlocked the front door and opened it as quietly as you could. No paranormal force on the other side opened it for you this time. Hyesoo’s light snores could be heard from the living room, but other than the sleeping aide, the house was eerily silent. You locked up behind you and started up the stairs, but couldn’t even bring yourself to make it all the way to your room. You all but collapsed at the top step, letting your tears stream freely again as you cried quietly into your hands, hunched over your knees.

That was a fucking disaster.

“Y/N?”

You opened your eyes back up at the soft, familiar voice. Jisung was at the bottom of the stairs, hands in the pockets of his cardigan.

“Oh, Jisung, hey.” You didn’t bother wiping your tears this time as you greeted him. He hesitantly shifted his weight from one foot to another. You patted the spot next to you for him. “Déjà vu, huh?”

He sat down next to you on the top step, deep frown on his features. “What happened?”

“Ugh, guy was an asshole,” you sniffed. “Like, I thought he was really nice and everything, but as soon as he realized I wasn’t going home with him, he turned into a jerk.”

“He didn’t…”

“No, he just said a bunch of rude stuff. Called me a bitch, a whore who was just using him for his money or whatever.”

“Y/N—”

“All that, I didn’t really care about,” you admitted, curling your hands into fists and digging your nails into your palms as his words came back to you. “It was what he said about my mom that really pissed me off. Essentially said I should just put her up in a home and get on with my life. I about threw a punch in the middle of the restaurant.”

Jisung let out a light chuckle at that, but the humor in his features didn’t last long. He scooted closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry it didn’t go well for you.”

You shrugged, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I expected, really. He was Seohyuk’s friend, of course he was going to be an asshole.”

Jisung wasn’t warm, but you found his cool embrace comforting enough, the steady pressure of his arm encircling you, his sturdy body supporting you as he let you lean against him.

“I’m sorry, for getting upset at you earlier,” he apologized quietly. “You didn’t have to tell me where you were going, and I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“I wasn’t being very fair either,” you replied. “I’m sorry too.”

“But… Why did you go out with that guy? I mean, if he had been nice, would you have… Would he…” Jisung stopped, apparently frustrated at not knowing how to phrase what he wanted to ask. “Why not me? I know that sounds so pathetic, but that’s all I wanted to ask you before.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, biting your bottom lip against the emotions rushing up in your chest at his words. “Jisung…”

“I’m not… imagining all this, right? I mean, there’s something here, Y/N. A-A connection.”

“What kind of relationship can you even have with a ghost?” You asked sadly.

“Maybe the kind you need now.” He grabbed one of your hands, holding it tightly in your laps between you.

“I’m going to get older, Jisung,” you reminded him calmly, despite each word piercing your chest like a knife. “Not to mention—I won’t be here forever. Like, in this house. I don’t own it. I’ll have to leave once she… I’ll have to go. I can’t stay here.”

“Does everything worthwhile in life have to last forever?” He murmured, his voice practically begging now. “Tell me you didn’t think about me while you were on that date…”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “I can’t…”

“You did? Think about me?”

“The whole time,” you admitted. “Even when it was going okay, I was thinking about you.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up from your entwined hands, realizing that you were gripping onto him maybe even harder than he was you. Meeting his dark gaze, you blinked away a few more stray tears.

You finally let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Until it’s over, you and me.”

A smile overtook his features as he rested his forehead against yours. Readjusting your hand to cover the back of his, you moved his index finger to his chest, tracing an X over his heart. Your ghost watched your movements fondly, echoing, “Until it’s over, you and me.”

“Do you have anything left here that’s yours? Hair in a locket under a floorboard or something?” You questioned, looking around your room.

“What? No,” Jisung scoffed.

“Figured I’d ask.”

The two of you were brainstorming. Jisung really wanted to be able to go somewhere out of the house with you, but the best ideas you had of course came from popular ghost media.

“Your stepdad kept a lot of the original house fixtures when he bought it. Maybe one of those,” your ghost suggested.

“I’m not carrying a faucet around in my purse,” you replied frankly. “Not to mention, I’m not allowed to damage the house while I live here. My stepbrothers could sue me for anything that’s not exactly how it was when Hyukjun left it.”

“What about…” Jisung walked through the closed door, and you could hear the squeak of the stairs as he went down them. A few moments later, he went back up them, then came through the door again. He held out something in his closed fist towards you.

You stretched out your hand palm-up, and he opened up his fingers to drop a small piece of metal into it. It had some weight to it, and you turned it over in your hand to get a better look at it. It looked like a knob to a cabinet or drawer, in the shape of an eight-pointed starburst. It wasn’t familiar to you at all, it didn’t look like he had taken it off any place in the house that you could tell.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “Where…?”

“It’s one of the original knobs that was on the cabinets in the kitchen,” he explained. “Your stepdad’s first wife wanted them all replaced when she moved in. He put them in a box in the laundry room closet and they haven’t been touched since. I doubt your stepbrothers even know about them. She probably thought he got rid of them.”

“These were on the cabinets when you lived here?”

“Yep.”

You pocketed the cabinet knob. “Can’t hurt to try.”

Once you’d given your mom and Nayoung your goodbyes, you headed for the front door. Jisung was right behind you, looking positively giddy as he watched you put your shoes on.

Patting your pocket again to reassure yourself that the cabinet knob was in there, you stepped down from the porch and onto the walkway. After nodding politely to a jogger going by, you looked around hesitantly at the empty space on either side of you.

“Jisung?” You said quietly.

“I’m here.” He appeared next to you, beaming down at you. “I’m here.”

The two of you had never gone past the porch swing, not even down to the flowerbeds you had continued to tend to. You grabbed his arm to pull him down with you as you squatted in front of the snapdragons that had just come back into bloom. Pride and bittersweet nostalgia welled up in your chest as you looked at the flowers that used to be Hyukjun’s hobby.

“Do you know the secret with these?” You asked Jisung.

“No?” He replied, tilting his head.

You reached out to gently squeeze the sides of a pink flower, making the dragon’s “mouth” open and close. “You can make their mouths open and shut.”

Jisung watched you fondly, then tried it on another bloom. He giggled. “That’s kind of fun, actually.”

Standing back up, you continued to the end of the house’s short walkway, stopping on the sidewalk.

“This is the furthest I’ve been in… a while,” he said, eyes shining.

“We’re still in the lay lines of the property…” You kept your hopes guarded. “I don’t want to call it a success yet.”

Walking down the sidewalk, you kept your eye on Jisung the further you got from the house, waiting for him to hit some invisible barrier and disappear entirely, or at least flicker or something else to indicate that he was losing his connection to the house. But he looked… normal. Fine.

When you were a full three blocks away from the house, Jisung grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Would you stop looking at me like I’m going to die again?” He joked.

“Sorry, sorry,” you sighed. “I just… can’t believe it. How do you feel?”

“Fine. Great!” He grinned.

You'd never seen Jisung in direct sunlight before, only ever the lights of the house, sunbeams that filtered in through curtains and windows, or moonlight at night. You were surprised at how… normal he looked. His skin had a lifelike rosy tint to it in places, his hair shone and reflected a dark brown at some angles, and he didn’t have any sort of ghostly pallor to him. The only thing that didn’t change were his eyes, still as dark and enrapturing as ever, his pupils melting into his irises.

“So where are we going?” He asked, swinging your linked hands.

“You’ll see.” You squeezed his hand before letting it go, hearing the sounds of other people around the corner that you were about to turn.

The destination you had in mind wasn’t very far, which was good, because your shoulder was getting tired carrying your tote bag. Veering off the sidewalk at a seemingly random place, you walked through a gap between two bushes. Jisung followed you diligently, keeping whatever questions he had to himself. The path underfoot was overgrown with grass and clover, only a path to a keen observer, or those who already knew it was there.

Finally, you ducked around a large tree and emerged at a clearing in front of a small pond. Jisung looked around in wonder as you proudly put your hands on your hips.

“Hyukjun and I came out here a couple times, when he and my mom first got together,” you explained. “Bonding stuff. I’m happy I remembered where it was.”

“I think…” Jisung slowly turned around in a circle, still taking it all in. “I think my friends and I used to swim here in the summer. And when the pond would freeze in the winter, we’d skate…”

He walked over to the largest tree nearby, fingers tracing over the bark that had endless initials carved in it, until he squatted down by the base. “Yeah. I didn’t recognize the streets when we were walking over here, but…”

You joined him by the tree, watching as he pointed out a cluster of initials, seven in total, ending on PJS. “There you all are,” you said quietly. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

“They’re probably all old men now,” Jisung chuckled, a laugh that you could tell was forced.

You reached for his hand, holding it with both of yours. “It’s okay to be sad that you didn’t get to grow old with your best friends, Jisung. I know you’re the one that passed away, but have you mourned them yet? All your friends and family that you didn’t get to see grow old?”

“Damn it.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to make you all sad on our first real date.”

“I’m dating a ghost,” you pointed out, running your thumb over the back of his hand. “I think a little doom and gloom comes with the territory.”

“To answer your question, I haven’t thought about it like that,” he sighed. “I always felt bad that I left them, that they had to mourn me. But I never… grieved the fact that I lost them too.”

“I don’t want to make you sad on our date, either,” you panicked a little at the shadow that had fallen over his features, moving to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hug him. “I’m sorry!”

Jisung laughed a real laugh this time, hugging you back. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s better than feeling guilty for something I had no control over.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“I honestly hadn’t even thought about coming here with them in so long… Really, it’s nice to remember them all again.”

You let go of him to reach into your tote, pulling out the large picnic blanket you’d brought with you. “How about instead of the both of us making each other sad, you tell me a bunch of fun stories about your friends while I enjoy the picnic food I packed?”

He pecked your forehead, taking the blanket from your hand. “Deal.”

The pond had become one of yours and Jisung’s favorite spots to go when you could find time between work and your mom. The two of you could get out of the house together without risking you getting some very strange looks in public. Sometimes you brought a picnic, sometimes books or a crossword puzzle or deck of cards or just laid on your blanket and tried to find shapes in the clouds. Every so often, you’d get someone coming by walking their dog, or a gaggle of kids cutting through from one of their backyards to another, but nobody ever paid you much more attention past a ‘hello’ or ‘lovely afternoon, isn’t it?’

After submitting a big project at work, you finally had some free time again. As long as your mom was having a good day today. She’d been more sensitive to you leaving the house lately on her bad days, and while the aides promised that she always calmed down eventually, you hated causing her so much stress if it was avoidable—errands were one thing, but a date with your ghost boyfriend that already haunted your residence could take a raincheck.

You looked in the living room first, then the dining area and kitchen, and frowned thoughtfully when you couldn’t find your mother and Nayoung. Turning around, you were greeted by Jisung, who pointed to the backyard knowingly.

“They’re in the back drinking lemonade,” he informed you. “She’s having a good day.”

“Oh, good. Thanks, Jisung,” you let out a breath of relief, giving him a kiss on the cheek as you passed by on your way back into the living room.

Opening up the door that led onto the back porch, you immediately spotted your mom and Nayoung sitting beside each other on two rocking chairs, a pitcher of lemonade between them as they overlooked the small backyard. Their conversation stopped when they heard the door open, both of them turning to look at you over their sunglasses.

You held your hands up defensively. “Woah, I feel like I just interrupted something…”

“Yes, you can go, sweetie,” your mom said knowingly.

“What?”

“You finished your work and are checking on me to see if you can go out.” She took a sip of her lemonade, pushing her sunglasses back up and settling back into her chair again. “I’m telling you I’m fine, and you can go.”

“Nayoung?” You turned to the aide. “Everything okay—?”

“We’re fine, Y/N!” Nayoung waved you off with a smile. “Really!”

“Alright, alright.” You surrendered, backing up towards the door again. “I’ll be back before Hyesoo gets here.”

“What day is it, Nayoung?” Your mom asked.

“Wednesday.”

“You know, my memory isn’t the best, remind me, when does Hyesoo stay the night?”

“Mondays and Wednesdays.”

“Hm.” Your mom tsked. “Interesting…”

Nayoung didn’t add anything further, but giggled as she took another sip of her lemonade.

“You two are nuisances,” you scoffed and shook your head, finally heading back inside.

You beelined for your bedroom, finding your ghost already sitting on your bed clearly waiting for you.

“Oh yeah, she’s having a great day,” you snorted in lieu of a greeting, grabbing your usual tote bag. “That new medication her doctor put her on is doing wonders. I might have to have him cut her off.”

“I think she’s a lot of fun,” Jisung snickered. “Earlier, when you were on that work call, she was telling Nayoung about your third-grade science fair—”

“Ahh!” You cut him off by planting two hands over his mouth, eyes going wide with mortification. “Of all the things she remembers, that’s what sticks around?! Are you kidding?”

His shoulders were shaking as he let out muffled laughter behind your hands, and he eventually collapsed backwards onto your bed. Your hands dropped from his face as you stayed upright, allowing his laughs to echo freely in your room.

“If you’re going to keep making fun of me, we’re not going out.” You crossed your arms. “I’ll bury your cabinet knobs in the backyard, and your soul will really be stuck here forever.”

“You’ve got to stop being so cute when you pout, and I’ll stop teasing you.” He was still chuckling as he sat up and reached for you with two hands. With an eyeroll, you let him pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around your waist.

“This isn’t fair, I can’t find out embarrassing stuff about you unless you tell me,” you huffed, well aware you that you were still pouting.

“I always answer your questions. You just don’t ask me that stuff.”

“Well now I will.”

“Anything else you need to pout about?”

You let out a deep breath, your face relaxing a little bit. “No. Done for now I think.”

He cupped your cheek, leaning in to press his mouth to yours. Like everything else, Jisung’s lips were cool as they meshed with yours. Not uncomfortably so, he wasn’t quite an icicle, just unlike any human you’d kissed before. You put your hand over his on your cheek, remembering when even that used to be a far-away impossibility.

You left him with one more kiss on the tip of his nose before asking, “Are you ready to go? Mom and Nayoung gave me the okay.”

He started playing with your fingers, eyes focused downwards as he spoke. “I actually wanted to ask if we could maybe go somewhere else today?”

“Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“I don’t want to be a bummer or anything but…”

“What is it?”

His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “You wrote down the cemetery, right? When you went to library and looked up the genealogies and stuff about me. You said you wrote down where my parents buried me?”

“Yeah, I still have it,” you confirmed, cradling the back of his head as you patiently waited for him to finish asking what you knew he wanted to ask you.

It took him a few inhales and exhales to ask, “Can we go?”

“Of course.”

This was officially the furthest you and Jisung had gone from the house together. He’d gone with you on errands a couple times before—the post office, library, things within walking distance—but you had to get on a train for this. You were a little nervous that he might not be able to go this far, even with the cabinet knob safely tied onto a leather cord and tucked under your shirt. So far, the only limit you’d discovered to his leaving the house was time—six hours or so seemed to be the magic number. You’d found that out on a particularly lazy day, when you were looking up at clouds together and suddenly his lap disappeared from beneath your head. He’d apparently popped back up in the foyer with the first headache he’d experienced in decades. Since then, you’d been more careful to keep an eye on the time when you brought him with you.

But he sat comfortably through the whole ten-minute train ride at your side as if he were any other passenger. The car that you were in wasn’t full, meaning that you had a row to yourself, leaving an empty seat next to you for Jisung. After arriving at your stop, you had another five-minute walk until you finally arrived at the cemetery.

“This is where my parents are from,” Jisung stated as you passed under the metal archway at the entrance. “That’s probably why they didn’t choose somewhere back in town.”

A winding path went through the center of the land, smaller pathways breaking off into other areas. It was a big cemetery, gently rolling hills dotted with headstones, grave markers, elegantly carved statues, all sorts of tributes to loved ones. The two of you took a meandering pace, eyes scanning all the names for just one. You looked around the property warily, now extra aware of being a public nuisance somewhere so sacred. You especially didn’t want to risk disturbing any mourners who might be here. But you couldn’t spot anybody except yourself and Jisung, maybe because it was the middle of the day in the middle of the work week.

“There,” Jisung announced, his gaze locked on something in the distance, while you had been looking at markers much closer. He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he rushed across the cemetery.

You stopped in front of a simply shaped granite headstone with a carved border. The name at the top read ‘PARK JISUNG’ and under it, a birthdate and death date that were familiar to you. It was the epitaph that was new to you, however.

‘THERE WILL ALWAYS BE LOVE

CROSS OUR HEARTS’

Jisung reached a finger out, tracing over each letter in ‘LOVE.’ He said, “I always wanted to know what they wrote. What they said about me. How they wanted to remember me forever.”

“It’s lovely. They love you a lot,” you replied quietly, resting a hand on his back.

He looked over at you hopefully. “You’re talking in present tense. Are they…?”

“The records I looked at didn’t list them as deceased when I was looking for information about you, but I don’t know how often it’s updated,” you informed him. “I didn’t look any further into them, I was only trying to find out what happened to you.”

“Do you think two more headstones could fit there?” He gestured to the empty space beside his own.

You took the seemingly random question in stride, genuinely contemplating it. “Probably, yeah. Or one big one would fit better, like the couples that get buried together.”

Jisung had a satisfied smile on his face as he nodded. “Yeah, one big one. That’s it.”

It dawned on you then what he was thinking—his parents had most likely reserved the plot next to his for themselves once they passed, and since it was still empty, they were still alive.

“Thank you.” He took your hand, lacing your fingers together. “For coming out here with me. This must be the weirdest date you’ve been on.”

“Visiting my boyfriend’s own grave with him?” You tilted your head back and forth contemplatively, a teasing lilt in your tone. “Mm, yeah, definitely up there. But I’m glad that you wanted to do this with me, Jisung. I can’t imagine what this feels like for you.”

“I’m ready to go,” he declared, looking up at the blue sky above you. “It’s such a nice day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” you agreed, fondly admiring his little one-eyed squint against the sunlight.

Back home that night, you shook one of your sleeping meds from the bottle, setting it down on your nightstand as you went about getting ready for bed. Your ghost was already sat against the headboard, his legs covered by your blankets, hands folded over the book in his lap as he waited for you. Finally ready, you knocked back the tablet with a gulp of water and climbed under your covers. Jisung rested one hand on your head, thumb stroking over your forehead, but after an abnormally long period of silence, you opened one eye to peer up at him.

He was just gazing down at you tenderly, and you fought the instinct to cover your face, instead reaching over to tap the cover of his closed book.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” You complained in jest.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” he responded, still not moving to open the book.

“What about?”

“My epitaph. ‘There will always be love.’”

“It’s nice.” You bit back a yawn.

“Yeah. I was thinking about how they probably meant it like their love for me will persist, and proof that I was here and was loved and loved others when I was alive will persist.”

“I like that, Jisung. I think that’s what they meant.”

“And… there was no way they could’ve known this when they picked it, but I was thinking…” Your ghost paused, dark eyes enrapturing you in that moment that you didn’t even think about breathing. “About how even after I died, you somehow found me.”

You grabbed the book from his lap, reaching behind you to blindly put it on your nightstand. Jisung immediately understood, turning his lamp off and leaving the room in darkness as he slipped the rest of the way under the covers. You buried your face in his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the back of his head as you simultaneously pressed yourself into him and pulled him as close as possible. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, digging his fingers into you hard enough to make you feel real, which you were glad for.

“I’m going to bring you with me,” you choked out past the tears rising in your eyes. “When it’s time for me to leave. I’ll bring all the cabinet knobs, a chunk of the foundation, whatever will make it work. Fuck my stepbrothers—I’ll pay whatever damages. If you want—”

“Of course I do.” He didn’t even let you finish that thought, and you could hear the tremble in his voice. “But we’ve never been able to get around the time…”

“I’ll figure it out for us, Jisung.” You pulled back just enough to show him as you drew an X over the left side of your chest. “Cross my heart.”

He took your hand from your heart, kissing the back of your fingers tenderly. “We knew it was going to be like this. We promised.”

“We said ‘until it’s over,’” you argued. “I don’t want it to be over yet.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “But I don’t think it’ll be our choice when it is. Not everything worthwhile has to last forever.”

“Jisung—”

“We’ll try everything,” he assured you, squeezing your hand. “I’m not giving up on you, Y/N. You and me, until you hand the keys over and close the front door behind you.”

“You’ll be coming with me when I do that, Park Jisung,” you declared, your voice cracking over his name.

He wrapped both arms around you again, tucking you under his chin. “Of course.”

⤷ sequel | masterlist

[nyx-y]

⭑.ᐟ WATCH YOUR BACK

II: GOOD LUCK, LITTLE ONE

Pairing: BadBoys!Ateez OT8 x Reader

WC: 6.6k

Synopsis| After your first encounter with Ateez, you are now their new target. Now, you don't tend to break easily... well depending on the situation of course. So, what will Ateez have do to just to see that bold facade of yours fall...hm?

TW!|18+, Bullying, Smut, Stalking, Angst, Cursing, Death threats, Violence (physical, domestic), Assault, Sexual assault, Abuse( emotional, verbal, physical, psychological), Drug use, Drinking (underage), Depictions of Disordered eating, Depictions of panic attacks, Mental illness (depression, PTSD), Self-harm, and Unhealthy coping mechanisms.

DISCLAIMER!|This series is not a representation of the idols as individuals and is to not be taken seriously. If you’re uncomfortable with the content in the series or on my page, then feel free to click off at any moment.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

"Y/n, oh my gosh you need to hide right now!" Yuji came running up to you as soon as you arrived to your locker as she gave you a scared look. "Um, why do I have to hide Yuji?" You asked as you gave Yuji a confused look. All of a sudden you and Yuji heard girls squealing, which only meant one thing, ATEEZ had just arrived at the school.

"Y/n, you need to go hide right now! " Yuji begged as she shook your shoulders. "Yuji listen, I'm not scared of those assholes alright, I can handle myself okay." You tried to reassure Yuji. "Y/n no please I'm begging you, you are in danger, you need to hide." Yuji whined.

"Yuji, trust me I'm fine, I will be fine, and I'll always be fine okay, stop worrying." You really to convince Yuji, but she didn't seem so convinced by your words.

"Y/n, look around." Yuji ordered. You look around and see that some people who were in the hallway were looking at you with hatred and some with disgusted expressions.

"See Y/n, after you pissed off ATEEZ, everyone in this god forsaken school now hates you, next thing you know, it's gonna be the while damn town!" You blinked a couple of times completely taken back because of what Yuji said.

Everyone hating you wasn't something you were new to, you knew it, you just hated hearing the words said to you, it hurt the scared love-craving little girl inside of you, but you didn't want to show it.

"Yuji, being hated by is not new to me okay, you have nothing to worry about, now come on let's go everyone to class." You grabbed Yuji's arm as you two began walking to class with everyone's eyes fixed on you.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

You just finish writing notes in your notebook and decided to ask to go to the bathroom to kill time until lunch. "Uhm, Mr. Chan can I go to the bathroom please?" You asked as your raised hand. "Did you your notes, Ms. Choi, If you didn't finish your notes then you can't go."

"Yes, I just finished them." you said with an irritated tone. "Alright then, you can go" your teacher nodded "Thanks." You got up and walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. And as you were walking into the hallway you felt people watching you.

You turned around to see if anyone was there, but there was no one there. But, when you turned around you found yourself being surrounded by Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung & Jongho. "My fucking god, what in the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that, what the fuck do you idiots want?" You asked while crossing your arms.

"See, it's only been like 5 seconds and I already wanna punch her in her damn the mouth." Yunho spat while looking at you with disgust. "I would love to see you try, dumbass." You groaned while putting your hands on your hips. "The fuck did you just call me?" Yunho growled while walking up to you.

" My goodness, if you were fucking listening to me the first time, then maybe you wouldn't have asked me to repeat what I said." You grumbled rolling your eyes. "Grab this bitch." you were about to run until Jongho grabbed very tightly causing intense pain in your arm.

"Ow you dick, could you be a little more gentle please?" But calling Jongho a dick only cause him to hold you even tighter. "Where in the are you taking me anyway, Disney Land"? You asked with a mix of sass and sarcasm. "School basement so we can fuck you up". Yeosang snarled without looking at you.

"The fuck me up to do you mean like beat me to death or actually fu-" you teased "The first one now shut up." Yunho interrupted you. "Okay chill out bitch , I was just asking because if it was the case you could've at least given me a minute to get ready." "Why do you talk so fucking much"? Mingi groaned.

"Why do you think everyone in this school is scared of you" you argued "Because they are and you should be too if you wanna breathe for the rest of your life". Wooyoung sneered."I'm not scared so I guess I won't breathe for the rest of my life then" you joked "You'll be scared eventually, I promise you". Jongho reassured as smirked down at you.

"Yeah, I fucking doubt it, so you can just take back your promise". You cackled. "That's what you're saying now, but just wait" Yeosang then grabbed your chin and brought his face to yours making you look him in the eye "Just you wait." Yeosang chuckled. "Well good luck with that." You replied nonchalantly.

"We don't need luck baby, we know what were doing trust me." Wooyoung asserted. "We're gonna beat your ass down believe that, sooner and later you're gonna be crying and saying that you're sorry." Yunho smirked. "I doubt that, so don't try to raise your ego's by doing thinking that I will."

You rolled your eyes. "Trust me bitch, you will." Jongho growled. "You wish you dumb piece of shit" you nagged. "If you say so" Jongho replied while tightening his grip. "Jongho, the basement is down the hall and to your right, everyone is already waiting for us there." Yeosang reported.

You noticed that Jongho loosen his grip when listening to Mingi which gave you a chance to run, so you yanked your arm away and started running. You pushed the others out of the way so they wouldn't grab you. "Come on, let's grab her." Yunho roared as he and the others ran after you.

You ran as fast you could until you saw an empty dark classroom that you could run to, but as you were running to it you hear footsteps.

You turned only to see Jongho running towards you, so you ran into and tried to shut the door but Jongho got in before you could shut the door.

You tried to run around him and out the door but quickly close it came towards you, but when you tried to run away Jongho grabbed you and pushed you up against the wall.

"Let me go asshole." You whined while hitting his arms."Who in the hell do you think you are running from us huh?" Jongho grabbed by your shirt and holding you up against the wall. "Choi Y/N bitch now let me go" You yelled hitting Jongho's arms even harder. "Not a fucking chance" Jongho hissed "Everyone fucking hates you bitch." Jongho roared.

Your squirming came to halt when you heard the words that came out of Jongho's mouth."W-what did you just say?" You stuttered as you looked at Jongho trying to fight the tears that were forming in your eyes preparing to fall down your face.

Jongho on the other hand, notice right away and quickly smirked. "Awe poor baby, did I hurt your feelings." Jongho whispered as he leaned closer your right ear.

All you could was stare at him with tears in your eyes. Again you hated hearing those combinations of words said you, you hated them more since they were true.

Hearing those words coming out of the mouths of family members from both of your mothers side and your fathers side of the family, classmates, teachers, past school board officials gathered up in conference rooms with both you and your mother discussing your behavior and soon expulsion, not hesitating to say the words even though your mother is in the room.

Your father, The evil excuse of a man. The main source to your problems. The one who introduced you to those words and more. Those words that stuck with you your entire life, and will forever stick with you til the day you die. Everyone hates you.

"Hey, earth to bitch." Jongho's laughter brought you back to your senses as he snapped his fingers in your face."There she is, where did you go babygirl" Yunho chuckled teasingly "You left us for a second, did Jongho hurt your feelings little one, hm?" Yunho laughed as he walked up to and began playing with your hair.

"You know, it's a shame that you have such a pretty face." Yunho sighed. "Yeah, if you didn't act the way you do, hell I would have maybe considered going out with you." Wooyoung chimed. "Right with you Woo, kinda sad actually." Mingi added sucking his teeth.

As soon as Mingi finished his sentence, the rest of ATEEZ walking into the classroom you were being held captive in. "The hell is taking you guys so long, huh?" Hongjoong being the last one to enter walked in and immediately knew what was going on. "Oh poor thing, let me guess, you tried to run away and failed." Hongjoong pouted at you teasingly as he walked up to you and the rest of the boys.

You started squirming again, attempting to get out of Jongho's grip but again it was no use, Jongho was strong as hell even you hate to admit it. "Let me go you stupid son of a bitch!" You demanded. "After the choice of words you decided to use, no I don't think Jongho will do that now." Seonghwa replied sucking his teeth.

You started to get irritated and thought of the only way you could get Jongho to let go of you, but you had to be fast. You hastily swung your leg up as it connected with Jongho's crotch, immediately letting go of you Jongho fell to his knees and groaned in pain.

"You stupid little-." San roared as his tried to grab you, you swiftly dodged him grabbing a stapler off of the teacher's desk and swung, hitting San on the side of his head.

San winced in pain as he held his face with his hands. "Son of a bitch!" San shouted as rubbed his hand up against the side of his head, only to feel a staple and wetness running down his face. ATEEZ quickly coming to both Jongho's and San's aid gave you a chance to run as fast as you could out of the classroom.

You didn't turn to look behind you, only focusing on getting away from ATEEZ. You eventually made it to the bathroom and once you got in, you shut the door behind you.

Tears streaming down your face, you felt your own heartbeat through your ears, a painful sting in your chest that you couldn't even stop from the outside of your body by holding your hand up to your chest, it's as if you had just ran a marathon. Your mouth felt dry as if you had been in a left stranded in a desert for days, as for your throat in which felt like sandpaper.

You felt like you were being choked by an invisible force, it felt like air refused to come in and out of your body. Everything in your vision looked like as if you were looking through a fish-eyed lens, everything then look so blurry, you couldn't focus on anything even if you tried.

You began to shiver as chills ran throughout your body, as if you were outside in the winter without the proper gear to keep you warm, all you could do was hold yourself tightly in response. You felt tingles all over your body, pin and needles from head to toe.

You didn't notice that someone had walked into the bathroom. As you were trying to catch you breath, you heard the bathroom door open. "Y/n the teacher Is waiting for- Y/n what's wrong? What happened? Is everything okay?" Yuji asked while she runs up to you. You looked at Yuji and gave her a fake smile.

"Yea I'm fine just thought about something that's all " you replied with a smile still painted on your face. what happened? "Yuji squats down and outs her hands on your shoulder, while looking at you with a worried and slightly concerned face.

"Nothing Important, come on let's go to class I didn't have to pee anyway just wanted to walk around honestly." You answered obviously lying. "Something tells me that you are lying , but I'll believe you, for now" Yuji squinted her eyes at you.

"Yuji, I promise you I'm fine" you smiled at Yuji while laughing at her squinting her eyes at you. "Are you sure that you're "fine" Y/N? " Yuji questioned as she looked at you with a kind smile plastered on her face.

"Yes I'm fine" You reassured at Yuji. "Okay then, well let's get back to class before Mr. Chan sends another person out to get us next" Yuji giggles as she helps you up off the bathroom floor.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

"I can't believe he gave you detention for having a moment in the bathroom, that's so ridiculous fucking" Yuji complained. "I know, he could've at least show sympathy for me or something" You and Yuji walked into the cafeteria when everyone turned and look at you.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" You asked with a confused expression on your face. "The incident that happened yesterday with the boys remember?" Yuji replied. You looked over and saw people looking at you with hatred and other with disgust.

"Oh yeah that, well I'm hungry let's go in the line." You say setting your stuff down at a table in the back of the cafeteria. You and Yuji get into the lunch line to get your food, when you notice that everyone including the lunch ladies were staring at you and whispering.

"Let me guess the teachers and staff know about the Incident yesterday to huh?" You asked clearly annoyed. "Everyone does Y/n, no teachers or staff can help you either." Yuji responded. "Uhm, why is that?" You raised an eyebrow, "Y/n, everyone is so terrified of them and so no one intervenes In situations involving them and any student that crosses them. "

"Well that's messed up and stupid, people in this school are fucking babies." You and Yuji got your lunches and went to go sit down. "Y/n, everyone is staring at you" Yuji whispered. "I know, but honestly I couldn't care less, I got other things to not worry about."

You shrugged until the cafeteria went silent so you and Yuji looked and saw ATEEZ waking into the cafeteria. "Oh just fucking great." You exaggerated. "Woah what happened to San's face?" Yuji questioned.

"Oh nothing, I just bitch slapped him on the side of his head with a stapler." You giggled, smirking at Yuji who in returned looked at you with a horrified. "What, Are you crazy Y/n, why would you do that?" She loudly whispered while looking at you in a panic like state.

"Well, he tried to attacked me so I defended myself ." you shrugged while playing with your food and taking glances at the boys who also happen to be looking at you. "But enough with the unimportant shit, what are you doing after school? Because if you're not doing anything then maybe we could possibly hang out or something." You stared at Yuji waiting for an answer.

"Well actually I have dance practice on weekdays and weekends." Yuji answered while twirling her fork in her noodles. "Wait, you take dance classes?" your eyes widened as you looked at Yuji who then started giggling at you.

"Yea" Yuji giggled, "I've been dancing for year's actually, I meant to tell you this yesterday but I didn't get to because of well... you know." Yuji tilted her head slightly toward ATEEZ's direction. "Well, now I know and I also know why you bring a duffle bag to school now." you laughed.

"Yeah, after school I got straight to dance practice, you can come to watch me dance after school if you want." Yuji gave you a cheeky smile "You can ride with me there, after my dance practice, we can go to the mall or something." Yuji looked at you with excitement.

"Of course, I'll come, Yuji, I wanna see what moves you can do." you smiled at Yuji. "Oh trust me, I can do a lot," Yuji replied giving you a sly smile. You and Yuji laughed, but you slowly stopped when you felt ATEEZ looking at you again.

I mean you weren't scared or anything but you just felt uncomfortable with all of them glaring at you while you were trying to converse to Yuji. So you decided to do something stupid and risky considering your current situation between you and them.

You thought that since you weren't gonna eat your food anyway, you thought that maybe they might... want it, if you know what I mean. I know right, too risky, but you were an unstoppable risk taker and badass, so why not do something that could... No... will get you in even more trouble with them.

You took your milk carton and poured in your rice and then grabbed your fruit and poured that in after, then mixed it until it looked like straight-up puke. While you were doing so, Yuji was watching the whole process while wondering what suspicious acts you were up to this time.

You looked at Yuji who then looked at you and you gave her a wink and picked up the disgusting combination mess you've made and slowly walking to the table where the groups were all sitting at.

Realization hit Yuji one she quickly figured out what you were doing and fearfully watched as you started your leaning arm back, getting ready to throw that abomination your created on your lunch tray at ATEEZ.

Yuji, who was trying protect you, attempted to run up and stop you, hoping to save you from a potential beat down but it was already too late, you threw your beautiful art work directly at ATEEZ.

Everyone in the cafeteria looked at you in surprise considering what you had done. And Yuji looked at you with so much worry but the only thing she could do for you was to say..."Y/n... run...now... GO!"

You looked at Yuji then back at ATEEZ who were now speed walking towards you, So you then took off running into the hallway which caused them to then start running after you. You ran in the hallway turning corners and sharp turns while looking for a room to hide out in.

You then notice the gym ahead of you and began running towards the doors, opening them and running inside. You were greeted by the dim lights and a huge space...Well, not that empty considering that there were bleachers at every corner of the gym.

You heard the gym doors burst open followed by multiple loud footsteps. The boys all started sprinting towards you causing you to run to the girl's locker room, but just your luck...you were grabbed by Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and then you were picked up and carried in forcefully into a huge gym storage closet.

"Put me down assholes!" you shouted at Jongho while hitting his back. " Shut up." Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa shouted in unison. They put you down and pushed you to the floor causing you to hit your butt on the hard floor. The groups all hovered over you with angry faces and your art project on their clothes and faces.

"Hey, I like the designs on your clothes, who did it?" you chuckled. " You think this is fucking funny?" Hongjoong growled while walking up to you angrily. "Yes, yes I do think this is funny." You nodding, smiling stupidly at the boys. San walked up to you and grabbed you by your shirt, pulling you towards him. "I'll show you what's funny bitch" San said angrily and rises his fist and punched you straight in the face.

You fell back on the ground holding your face while watching as the was blood dripping from your mouth."Goddammit, I wasn't ready asshole!" you yelped as you tried to wipe the wine colored liquid from your mouth. "Awe, well then you can be ready for this one then." Wooyoung hissed as he instantly walked up to you.

He was about to punch you; when suddenly you had a chance to stop him. So, you kicked him in his chest and with that he grunted in pain as he fell down on the floor holding his hands up onto his chest while also trying to breath; that gave you time to get up and run out of the gym.

"You guys go get her, I got Woo." Yeosang shouted while kneeling down next to Wooyoung instructing him to breathe slowly in order to get the air fully into his lungs. You ran as you heard Hongjoong shouting. "San, Yunho and Mingi you guys go this way okay? The rest of us will go the other way!"

You were running through the halls trying to find a room the hide in when you saw Ateez coming down the hall you were in. You quickly ran into a huge empty classroom and attempted to shut the door, Ateez busted in knocked you back up against a huge desk in the front of the classroom.

Ateez moves from in front of the door the let Ateez in. "Gotcha bitch." Yeosang walks up to you and tried to grab you push him back using all of your strength.

Luckily for you, it was a good amount because Yeosang went stumbling backward eventually falling and hitting his head on the edge of the huge desk. Jongho walked in and saw Yeosang struggling to get back on his feet as blood trickled down from his forehead.

"You dumb fucking bitch" Jongho gently helped Yeosang up before quickly walked up to you, but before you could attempt to defend yourself, the rest of ATEEZ came in the room.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong grabbed and held you in place while Jeno threw his first two punches at you stomach then at your face. You fell on the floor hard causing you to yelp in pain. Jongho then walked up to you and started kicking you in your stomach multiple times.

Every kick was also a lack of air you received into your lungs. You mouth hung open but no air came in or out, the only thing that came out of your mouth was blood.

Your eyes widened at the sight. You remembered. You hated it. You didn't want to remember It again. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop it. Your body went numb, you're trying to catch your breath, but everything at that this very moment was in slow motion. But everything had soon gone back to its regular pace when you felt a pair of hands gripping at your hair proceeding to yank your head up to face who ever wanted your attention.

"I hope you learn your lesson you little bitch" San stared straight into your eyes which hatred and satisfaction as he watched blood ooze from your face. "Hey San" you looked at him then chuckled "Eat shit asshole" your bloody mouth then formed a smirk. San looked at you with shock and anger, they all did.

They wondering how could you stay so calm after what they had done. How are you not begging for mercy or crying in agony? Seonghwa then grabbed you, lifted you up, and pinned up against the wall.

"What the fuck is wrong you huh? What in the fuck is your problem?" Seonghwa looked straight into your eyes. He was furious, you hurt one of his younger and disrespect his friends, his family, but you couldn't care less.

You gave a sly smirk to Seonghwa "Like I said, it's gonna take a lot more than a couple of ass whoopings to get me to kneel down to bow to you dumb fucks" you laughed "But if you idiot are willing to go so low to get me there you motherfuckers must really love having power over people huh? " you continued to laugh as you pushed out of Seonghwa's grip.

"You all can beat me up, break all my limbs ,or even murder me, but at the end of the day, I won't bow down to you, I won't giving the fucking satisfaction you fuckers deeply crave. So, you can do as you please with me but know this... I don't give a fuck!" You start to laugh uncontrollably.

"And yes I might've cried because of what that muscular bear said earlier back in that classroom but guess what-" you clasped you hands together" I still doesn't change that fact that I just don't give a fuck." You chuckled.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and washed my face, can't wait to see what you guys do to me next" you turn around about to walked out the door before turning around again to say one last thing.

"I'll be waiting" you winked and ATEEZ in the classroom.They boys looked at each other in amusement as you walked out the door and down the hall.

"Man she's hot." Mingi chuckled as he licked his lips thinking about what just happened, and in return receiving glares from his friends. "Look at me like that all you want, you're all thinking the exact same thing." Mingi teased while looking back at his friend who were now smiling at each other, silently admitting that they thought the same.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

You were sitting in an empty classroom serving your detention, playing with your jacket strings when suddenly you heard the classroom door open. You thought it was the teacher so you turned around, but when you did , you were greeted by someone totally different.

"Aish, what the hell do you want?" You rolled your eyes at the sight of Hongjoong entering the classroom." Just shut the hell up and just my questions, I don't have time for your shit right now." Hongjoong came and sat on your desk, his eyes refusing to leave yours.

"What questions are you about to ask me idiot because I'm really not in the mood" you slouched in your chair and staring out the window. Hongjoong sighed and you then heard a click, so looked and saw a pocket knife in Hongjoong's hands.

"Ahhh, oh my god don't kill me please." You sarcastically replied slightly waving your arms. "Just shut up and answer my damn questions." he demanded while pointing the knife at you.

"Is that supposed to scare m-" Hongjoong cut your sentence by grabbing you by the shirt and holding the knife at your neck. "Shut. Up. Now." His face was now closer to yours " Now, first question, who is your father?" You quickly turned your head in response to Hongjoong's question.

"Wouldn't you like to fucking know?" You chuckled. "What is your goddamn name?" Hongjoong looked at you slightly annoyed. "Choi Jaewun, why?" you looked at him irritated. "Well, a little birdy told me that he's in jail, well... was in jail, he's out now, did you know that sweetheart?" You looked up at Hongjoong who instantly began smirking.

"Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, he's out now." You looked away from Hongjoong, but he grabbed your chin making you look at him again. "Aren't you happy? You get to see your dad again, I bet he's gonna be really happy to see you, don't you think?" In an attempt to snatch your face away from Hongjoong, he then gripped your neck firmly bring you close to his face, leaving no space between the two of you.

"Stop snatching away from me." Hongjoong gritted teeth. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your features. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. In return you did the same, admiring his long eyelashes, mysterious dark brown eyes, his pointed nose, and his small plump lips, it's a shame he's such an asshole.

"You know, that little show you put on earlier in that empty classroom was quite entertaining." Hongjoong admitted as he admired your busted lip. Gently rubbing his thumb across your lips, looking repeatedly at your eyes and lips. "The fuck are you looking at?" You spat, "A bitch." Hongjoong responded still looking at your lips.

Hongjoong let his urges get the best of him, there was just something about you. He despised you, yet he couldn't help but wonder what your lips would feel like on his. Hongjoong grabbed your face, roughly connecting his lips to yours, you pulled your face away staring at him surprised.

Hongjoong, obviously not ashamed, smirked at you, " What's wrong love, you surprised?" He tilted his head, as he giggled sinisterly at your face. "You know, the boys and I were talking about you earlier and-" Hongjoong wasn't able to finish his sentence because you cut him off.

"Yeah that's great or whatever, are you done?" Hongjoong a little taken back from your words began to chuckle as he let you go and stepping back and looking at you. "Oh how fun it's gonna be watching you and your father have a nice little family reunion" Hongjoong signed with an evil grin on his face.

"Well that seems nice, let me know when you find him then." You sarcastically smile then start playing with your jacket strings again. Meanwhile Hongjoong was looking at you with shock. "Are you gonna leave or are you just gonna keep looking me like some stupid little five year old?" You looked up at him whilst still playing with your jacket strings.

Hongjoong scoffed and came close to your ear. "Oh Y/n." He then whispers in your ear, "You have no fucking idea what you're getting yourself into, baby." He moves away from your ear and stands up from off the desk then proceeds to walk to the door, but then stops in his tracks.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you suffer Y/n." he winks at you, about to walk out of the classroom until you responded to his words. "Me too." you replied looking at Hongjoong with a small smile, he stared at you for a moment before chuckling and leaving you alone in the classroom.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

Detention is over, and school now is closed for the day. You walked out of the school getting ready to head home. It hasn't even been 5 minutes yet, but you felt like you were being watched. You felt multiple eyes on you, and you knew exactly whose they were, so you stop in your tracks.

"So, you guys are watching me walk home now, it's giving very much stalker?" you turned only to see ATEEZ who were walking now all standing behind you, staring at you with smirks plastered on their faces. "We just wanna make sure you got home safely." Seonghwa paused for a moment, "For your protection, you know."

Seonghwa smiled innocently, but you knew it was bullshit. "Oh really, and what might you all be so eager to protect me from huh?" you looked at the boys clearly with a sarcastic . "Oh now Y/n, you and I both know that the world is a dangerous place."

San smiled, "You never know a person could just grab you, pull you into a back alley or an abandoned building and just beat you to death." You saw the shift in San's demeanor, if the darkness in his eyes weren't there before, it's sure was there now.

"Oh, alrighty then." You smiled sarcastically, rolling your eyes you turned back around to continue walking again until you heard foot steps behind you. You felt someone grab you and push you up against the wall, you looked up and saw that it was Seonghwa, looking down at you with disgust.

"Dammit, why do you motherfuckers keep pushing me up against walls?" you look at them in annoyance. "Because, it's fun looking at you all weak and defenseless that's why." Yeosang smiled stupidly while squeezing your cheeks with his hands, which gave you a chance to bite him, "Ah, you fucking bitch" Yeosang hollered as he fanned his hand around in pain.

"Keep your nasty little sausage fingers outta my face asshole." You demanded, "Listen bitch, you keep running your mouth like that, it's gonna get you fucked up you little b-" you cut off Yunho in his sentence, "Oh for crying out loud, you guys say that shit, but then you don't do a damn thing about it.

So far all you did was chase me around the school like a bunch of animals, and then when you caught me , all you did punch me a couple of times, threaten me, and left." You chuckled, "Like come on, you guys are pathetic."

"Guys, she's right" Wooyoung sucked his teeth. The read of ATEEZ looked at him with both shock and confusion written on their faces. "We've been going to easy on her guys, we gave her couple of punch to the face and she still won't learn, I say we do more." Wooyoung smiled at the groups who finally understood what he meant.

Agreed , I want this bitch to see what it feels like to have something be smacked up against her head, but instead of a stapler, I want it to be with a brick" San stares you down. "Ah Im so scared" you sarcastically. "Look whatever you're gonna make it quick alright I really don't wanna be here with you guys anymore" you replied blankly.

" We want everyone to see what happens when you constantly fuck with us, including your little friend, Yuji." he chuckled. " Yea, well I mean she did try to warn you, but you just didn't listen, did you?" Wooyoung shook his head at you then chuckled. " Well, I'm not the type to listen to a persons warnings, mkay?" You sassed. "I don't care about the consequences."

You laughed while shrugging your shoulders. San then walked up to you, placing his hand on your chin, making you look up at him. "If only you knew what that mouth of yours can get you into." San smirked while shaking his head, you on the other yanked your chin away from San's grip.

" Oh my goodness, I honestly don't care, at this point in my life, I honestly don't care if I live or die." You shrugged, " So, hurt me all you want I don't care, you can beat me up, torture me, I mean shit you guys can even kill me if that's what you want, do whatever I couldn't care less." Hongjoong raised his eyebrows at you and grinned.

"Now again I say, let me go, so I can go home a sleep." You ordered. "You're a little fucked up in the head aren't you." Hongjoong replied walking up to you. Hongjoong did a shoo-ing hand motion toward Seonghwa, letting him know to step away, Seonghwa nodded in response and walked over to the rest of Ateez.

"Fuck you." sweetheart." Hongjoong chuckled, "But you pushed me away and the only thing I managed to get was a kiss, it's a shame." Hongjoong moved away from your ear and was now looking into your eyes, "You would've had the best time of your life in there with me." And with that Hongjoong winked and moving away from your face.

They all looked at you skeptically as they think about what you just said. But then they all look at each other, then nodded and signaled Seonghwa unpinned you from the wall.

Seonghwa hesitated but then sighed as he began unpinning you, huffing in irritation clearly upset that he didn't get to do anything to you as San put his arm around his shoulder.

"So with that being, since you don't care what we do to you, I guess all we can say before we let you go is..." Hongjoong came close to your face and said, "Good luck, little one." he looked at you with a smirk on his face.

"You're the little one." You then stuck out your tongue and spit at him cause some spit to get on Hongjoong's face. Hongjoong took deep breath before charging at you until Seonghwa stopped him midway. "Calm down and wait til tomorrow, she'll get what she deserves" Seonghwa eyed you up and down.

Seonghwa then signaled Hongjoong to walk away from you, but while Seonghwa began walking away, you noticed that Hongjoong was standing still in front of you, eyeing you up and down before he chuckled and proceeded go back to his group. And you watch as ATEEZ and began walking away fading into the darkness of the street in front of you." Assholes" you mumbled as you turned around and began walking home.

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

You got dress after you got out of the shower and began climbing onto your bed when you got a phone call from Yuji.

You: "Hey Yuji, wassup."

Yuji: "OMG Y/n are you alright, I saw what happened to you.

Y/N: "Wait how did you see what happened to me."

Yuji: "Some guy recorded it and posted it, he also sent it to everyone in the school."

You: "Of course he did, but yeah I'm good, I guess."

Yuji: " Y/n seriously I think you should just leave them be or apologize because I'm getting really worried for you and I really don't wanna see you get hurt."

You: " Yuji, chill out I'm fine okay I don't care about what they do to me."

Yuji: "Well, I do and I really want you to see that."

You: " Yuji, you're really over reacting about this whole situation."

Yuji: " Overreacting, I care about you Y/n and I don't want to see you get hurt by them anymore."

You: " How could you possibly care for me Yuji? You've only known me for two whole straight days, it just doesn't make sense to me."

Yuji: " Y/n I think you need to realize that there are people who care about you, like your mom, me, and your family."

You: "My family doesn't give a damn about me, my mom honestly just tolerates me, you're just in my life temporarily here."

Yuji: "Temporarily, What is that supposed to mean?"

You: " Well, yeah. I mean who would honestly want to be friends with me, huh?"

Yuji: " Me, I would want to be friends with you. Do you not think that anyone would wont to?"

You: " Yeah actually, everyone fucking hates me Yuji. Why do you even want to be friends with me huh?"

Yuji: "Because Y/n, you're a cool person. When I saw you, your hair, and your style, I immediately thought, holy shit, this girl looks badass as fuck, I need to be friends with her."

You: " Yuji you don't know what you're talking about and you're making a fool of yourself for hanging out with me and wanting to be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Well, then I guess I'll be a fool."

You: " Yuji, you can be serious right now, Ugh whatever, something tells me that you're not gonna let up that easily so, are you sure you wanna be friends with me?"

Yuji: "Yeah, dude I wanna be friends with you Y/n, look, you need to be more positive, okay? Everyone is not gonna hate you, unless you make them, and well, I guess you kinda already did that."

You: " Ha, yeah I kinda did, huh? Well, Mingi was being a jerk and clearly scared the kid to death."

Yuji: "Yeah I know, but what about when you trash talked them yesterday, hit one of them today with a stapler, and then threw food on all of them during lunch, huh?"

You: "Yeah okay, I guess that was all my doing. But, anyways it's to late to turn back now so, might as well just along with whatever is gonna happen to me for the school year anyways."

Yuji: "But, Y/n you-."

You: "Yuji, I'll be fine trust me alright. I'm not scared okay, i got this, i'm ready."

🐈‍⬛ ྀི

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED FOR NYX-Y.

[dekariosclan]

I had a thought about Gales reaction to/feelings about stretch marks on his partner. Not ones from pregnancy (I personally feel those are kind of different. I have a lot of them just from fast weight gain, and even after losing that weight seeing them seems to only remind me of my shame that I ever let myself go that much).

I feel like I already know the answer - he is so loving, and so truly does not care about physical “imperfections” on his loved one or things that may be outside whatever beauty standards apply in his world. If he knew his partner was insecure about them, he’d likely go out of his way to make them feel better about them. But I’m still curious how you would describe his thoughts on them, if that makes sense. Would he even notice them? What would they represent to him, if he knew they were from a time his partner was neglecting their health (or even being very lazy)?

I hope this isn’t a nonsensical ramble. I think I’ve lately found myself trying to change my own negative perceptions of myself by thinking through the lens of what Gale would see, so asking an expert like yourself for your take might help me get there on this topic <3

Not nonsensical at all anon! 💜 And I love your idea of thinking through the lens of what Gale would see—the world would be a much kinder (and chattier!) place if everyone did so.

Your thoughts about Gale’s response to his partner’s insecurities are spot-on. But he’d also want to reassure them (and you!) that there is nothing shameful about the fact that their body changed shape or appearance. He would hush any disparaging comments about ‘letting oneself go’ or ‘being very lazy’. He’d be very, very proud that his love was no longer neglecting their health, but he would not apply any shame or negativity to their bodily appearance, either in the past or in their present condition.

I honestly think a lot of people struggle to understand Gale’s way of thinking because we have been-force fed toxic beauty bullsh*t for our entire lives. By our society’s beauty standards, Gale is hot. And Gale had a hot Goddess girlfriend; therefore how could Gale love a non-hot person? I’ve seen countless posts about Mystra being his ex and how ‘my Tav could never compare.’ But we’re the ones who have it all wrong; in Gale’s eyes, when he falls in love with Tav, it’s Mystra who can no longer compare.

So I’ve come to think of it like this: we all know Gale loves and treasures books, right? If you try and destroy the Necromancy book, he gets mad. He geeks out thinking about shopping at Sorcerous Sundries. He has a massive overflowing library in his home in Waterdeep. In short, he absolutely adores, respects and reveres stories. And I think, when Gale looks at others, and especially at his beloved Tav, what he sees and values first and foremost is their story—because that’s what defines who they are. Gale doesn’t judge a book by its cover, he judges it by the quality of the writing.

So, to answer your question about how he would react to Tav’s stretch marks, and whether he would notice them, and what they would represent, I believe he would simply see them for what they are: A physical representation of a chapter in Tav’s life. Not an imperfection, not something shameful, but an experience that, like all the other chapters in Tav’s life, helped shape them into the wonderful person that Gale loves today. An experience that helped to write Tav’s story.

And in his eyes, what could be more beautiful than that?

[hollowtakami]

HEARTS OF THE SEA

Keigo Takami x GN/autistic!reader

CONTENT: aquarium date w/ keigo, reader is autistic + has special interest in sea life/sharks, reader stims by flapping their hands + bouncing, pure fluff and keigo being the best bf we know he is

WORD COUNT: 407

AUTHOR NOTE: this is soooo self indulgent but I’ve been wanting to write this all week, but i had to prioritise uni work ;-; as an autistic person, finding rep in fanfics can be really difficult, especially with a character like keigo that has a mainly female demographic (trans male reader fics r so scarce</3) so! i hope i can add to the representation in x reader fics that are hardly written about<33

Keigo taking his autistic partner to an aquarium. He made sure to rent the place out; no crowded places, no noise that could potentially trigger a meltdown. Keigo wanted this to be the best experience for you; anything he could do for you he would. 

You’re holding his hand through the tunnels as you gaze up in awe at the colourful array of marine life. 

He knows your love for sea life - especially sharks - is something you hold very close to your heart. He loved that about you, your passion for the things that you loved. 

The blue hues from the water refract from the curved glass, beaming down on you like a spotlight. Your eyes shine as you watch the sharks cut through the water, schools of fish weaving in and out of forests of healthy coral, the colours vibrant. 

Keigo looks over at you, his heart bursts at the sight of you. You look so peaceful in your shared silence, surrounded by the beauty of the world. 

His pupils slitted, tracing the life around you, arched just over your head. Panes of glass is all that separates the two of you from the hearts of the sea. 

You flap your free hand, bouncing a little on the spot. Keigo notices how you’re smiling ear to ear. Genuine joy is riddled all over your face, seeing your special interest right in front of you. 

He squeezes your hand in his gently as you stim, silently affirming that he’s never going to judge you for being yourself. 

You walk together through jellyfish exhibits, dying of cuteness when you reach the penguin exhibits. You tease Keigo playfully when he points at a clownfish and confidently calls it “a nemo!”, a big smile lighting up his face. 

When you get to the gift shop, you spend what feels like hours in there. Fawning over all the cute plushies and deciding that you’d buy an adopt-a-shark pack and excitedly wait for updates together when they arrived in the mail. 

Keigo buys you a plush of your favourite shark, the biggest one he could find too. He buys himself a shell necklace after you reassure him that it’s not a real necklace - it looks gorgeous on him. 

You leave the aquarium with the biggest smile on your face, and you ramble about your visit together all the way home. You cuddle both Keigo and your shark plush to sleep that night.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

https://www.sfgate.com/politics/article/hey-democrats-wake-up-20219559.php

The sky is falling. The United States federal government is being illegally dissolved before your very eyes. The workers you rely on to ensure that you don’t eat ground beef tainted with paint chips are being laid off en masse. Immigration and Customs Enforcement raided your office last week and asked for your papers, even though you were born in Fremont. A fire tornado is due to touch down in your backyard next Tuesday. Your parents are terrified to board an airplane. Your gay nephew is terrified to go to school. Your 401(k) is in the toilet. MEASLES. Measles have returned and want to eat your baby. Every day you look at the news, and you’re told that the president would like to bring back cockfighting. You and I need reassurance. You and I need to know that someone out there is trying to put an end to all this madness. Instead, we get this.

I hate you, Democrats. I hate you so, so much. Yes, I hate Trump and Elon and all of the s—t-for-brains voters out there who were like DURRR THESE FELLAS ARE JUST WHAT WE NEED TO CLEAN UP WASHINGTON DURRR. But I reserve a special place in my black heart for you, Democrats. You are the representational equivalent of being put on hold by customer service. All you do is let me down. It’s like being a Browns fan if every time the Browns lost, a Tesla ran over my dog. You guys make voting feel pointless.

Starting with you, Joe Biden. You still alive, old man? Well, you could’ve fooled me. Great job staying in the 2024 race juuuuust long enough to torpedo your party’s chances, and then pissing off to Cape Henlopen solely because George Clooney asked you to. Were you a good president? I have no idea, because you were too busy huffing oxygen from your bedside tank to sell your agenda to the American people. Maybe you could have gotten everyone on your side by crafting a really clever sign to hold up.

And who’s this? Why, it’s former Vice President Kamala Harris, who got voters excited for exactly one month before huddling with her advisers and deciding to campaign as a Republican, WITH Republicans. And what other brilliant tactician could tap one of the most beloved governors in America as her running mate and then Tim Kaine-ify him by 75%? Hey Kamala, maybe in your free time you can pursue a life sentence for a homeless man who stole a box of Chiclets from a local CVS. I legit thought you would win in November! Why did I think that? Someone should brain me on the head with a baseball bat.

Speaking of head injuries … John Fetterman! I’m a fellow brain injury survivor alongside John. So when this man suffered a stroke during his Senate race against Dr. Oz, I was like, “Do NOT discriminate against this man just because he had a brain injury.” Little did I know that Fetterman’s blood clot would turn him into the second coming of Joe Manchin. I just got rid of Joe Manchin, and now I have to deal with a taller, weirder one? 

These are just some of the people I was foolishly hoping would put a stop to the meme-ocracy that’s currently eating the world. Democrats keep responding to our cries for help with, “Get out and vote!” Who am I even voting for? Is it you? Is it some asshole company on your donor roll? Is it shrink-wrapped skull James Carville, whose electoral acumen has aged even worse than he has? I’ve gotten more results voting on a new flavor of Lay’s potato chip. 

U.S. President Donald Trump shakes hands with California Gov. Gavin Newsom upon arrival in Los Angeles on Jan. 24, 2025, to visit the region devastated by the Palisades and Eaton fires.MANDEL NGAN/AFP via Getty Images

Now that I think about it, how did a state that offers so much sunshine and terrific produce end up with a whole armadaof s—t Democrats, including Adam Schiff, Nancy “once we all die in a rejuvenated smallpox epidemic, the House will be ours again!” Pelosi and Alex Padilla, who thought that a sternly worded letter to a Trump mole would end the administration’s desecration of our national parks. And don’t forget about Dianne Feinstein! Yes, I know that Feinstein is dead. No, that doesn’t excuse her. Stupid, dead Feinstein. I bet she’s lecturing children in hell because they dared to ask for a table fan.

And if you think that my party has more to offer on the opposite coast, may I introduce you to New York Democrats? Oh look, it’s Little Mister Punching Bag, Chuck Schumer! A Palestinian American resident of this man’s state was just kidnapped by ICE and remanded to Kafka State Prison down south without cause, and Chuck’s first instinct was to essentially say, “Now we all know this young man is brown, which means he hates the Jews.” Totally. Way to see the REAL story going on here, you empty tin of pomade. And somehow Chuck has even greater moral fortitude than Eric Adams, who probably couldn’t commit murder without accidentally leaving his Turkish passport in the victim’s hand. 

I can’t believe how useless most of these Democrats have proven in the fight to preserve something, anything, functional in this backwater of a country. Oh, do you want me to give the RBG girlboss treatment to Sonia Sotomayor, who skipped out on retiring while Biden was in office because she just loves writing terse dissents? What about Hakeem “Next Pelosi” Jeffries? Will he bamboozle the opposition with his fearsome repertoire of debate club hand gestures? Judging by those signs from the other night, I’m thinking no. No as all f—k. 

I don’t expect you geniuses in charge of my party to listen to my plea, but I’ve been shouting into the wind for decades now so I may as well do it one final time. Democrats need to give voters like me a reason to care. Our current president is an asshole, but he sure knows how to get people to care one way or the other. Part of that success has been from brute force political messaging. Part of it is from the voraciousness of capitalism mutating this country into a place where everyone is told they’re equal but no one WANTS to be equal. When Donald Trump runs on a platform that boils down to F—K OTHER PEOPLE, tens of millions of Americans eat it up because they’ve been conditioned to hate other people: their boss, their movie stars, that guy that cut them off on the drive to work, everyone. 

I don’t know how we solve this problem, but actually WANTINGto solve it is a good first step. I see little evidence right now that Democrats — especially you, Gavin — have that desire. I’ll still vote in every election out of obligation, but how many others will just stop doing it entirely now that you’ve failed them so consistently? I have a hard time trusting a bunch of people who couldn’t even think to start up an ASSHOLE chant on the House floor during Trump’s speech last week. I’m wagering that younger generations are even more disaffected. Those people will be lost forever unless you f—kers finally understand what’s happening outside your office window. 

And if you don’t get your s—t together now, I’ll know it’s because you don’t want to. I’ll know that you never cared about democracy. That you never cared about fixing the Constitution that’s currently sitting at the bottom of Sam Alito’s toilet. That you never cared about women or gay and trans folk or the poor or Muslim Americans or even Jewish people. I’ll know that you only care about yourselves, same as the president does. If you careerist scum want to prove me and every other voter wrong, you’d better get started right now. The clock is ticking. 

[princesszombie05]

RED SCAR

YANDERE ONE PIECE X (fem) READER (modern AU)

WARNINGS

In this story there will be heavy graphic themes, such as: dysfunctional behaviors, eating disorders , self-esteem problems and resulting mood problems, representation of personality disorders, toxic and dysfunctional relationships, obsessive behaviors, etc...

The characters of One Piece will be represented differently from certain points of view, especially on a character level.

One Piece characters don't belong to me, but they belong to their creator.

This story aims to observe and denounce the dysfunctional behaviors represented and not in any way idealize them!

Plot:

(Y/n), a girl with a traumatic belonging finds herself having her life turned upside down, but not by her own will. New house, new school, new opportunities, but the past seems to continue to haunt her, and her relationship with others begins to become increasingly stormy, especially towards those who seem to care or be interested in her.

Chapter 1: New life

Never in her life would she have thought she would be in this situation. It was like one of those lucid dreams that you have when you are dormant: so real to feel it on your skin, in the flesh, but so absurd that the brain still can't process it, it doesn't know if it's dreaming or if it's still awake.

She was in a car with an smell of old accompanied by a hot that she didn't know where it came from.

These elements were not helping her mental state at that time.

She wanted everything to be a bad dream, but it was so real that it made her bite the tips of her fingers and gave her chills.

She felt empty and angry, even if she didn't know who to vent her anger to, whether on herself or on the outside world, but she already knows that she will do it on both.

The man with thick and long white hair in the meantime watched her worriedly from the rearview mirror, fixing the small iron glasses from time to time with a spasm of the straight nose.

A whirlwind of thoughts in his mind, yet he couldn't give concreteness to any of these. He, who always gave advice to teenagers, couldn't really understand his niece, and not only that, he couldn't even think of a few words of comfort for her. He felt useless, like a used piece, when he was around him.

He had also been a teenager, but he just couldn't understand how his niece's head worked.

He could only reassure himself by repeating in his mind very general and bland notions that they always communicated to him when he was young: he blamed the adolescent hormones, perhaps a sort of desire to provoke the adult he has at that age, to experience it to try to create a personality; but deep down he knew that none of these labels reflected his niece, and more than reassure him it made his stomach roll on himself.

Rayleigh, this was the man's name, he really couldn't understand, he was so used to working with teenage boys, he had been doing it for years: he gave advice when they had problems at school, with their parents, in love; he understood them and thought he could do it well, and he still didn't understand his niece, what he felt, how he felt.

It didn't matter how hard he tried, but that little girl was an impenetrable wall for him; and this frustrated him and made him worry.

Even the girl's father, whom he had known since he was little, was a bit closed, but at the same time brilliant. He was always on his own, but it had never been like that.

He had never worried him like that, he hadn't forced his parents to send him to another city "to change the air".

Once they arrived, the man turned to observe his niece.

Technically she was not his niece, he had been the companion of his father's mother before she died. He was seventeen years younger than her. Another love disappointment to add to the list.

Despite this, the young girl has always called him "unce", this has also become a habit for the rest of the family.

The girl of full response did not even deign to look at him; the words died on the tip of his tongue. He therefore decided to head outside the car and unload the suitcases to bring them into the house.

When the girl noticed that the man had finally left, she went down.

She didn't want to talk to anyone, she had even sat in the back seat and not next to her uncle, just to make a mockery of him, to get a reaction from him, to make him feel at least some pain that she was feeling, even if he had done nothing, and this is precisely his fault. He looked at her in response like a beaten dog and turned on the car starting to drive, in absolute silence.

The girl breathed deeply, almost as if she lacked air, almost as if she was trying to cool what she had inside with the fresh air from the hill where she was. From there she could see the whole town where she had happened unfortunately.

After several minutes spent in the small well-kept garden, she finally decided to enter, something she was particularly afraid of: entering, entering and overtaking that threshold, a metaphor for the new life she is about to undertake and that did not belong to her. She wanted to leave the past behind, but now that she had the chance she wanted to hold on to that old pain, because the only family thing she had left.

She hated to behave so ungratefully with her uncle, but she didn't want to and couldn't swallow this bitter bite, she couldn't, even if deep down she knows that she will be forced to do it, not only for her sanity and for her dignity, but also and above all for those who love her.

She has always wanted to be the daughter, the friend, the sister, the perfect girl, get good grades, always be kind to everyone, be able to face her problems in a mature way and not with the dysfunctional methods she uses.

But at the same time she wants to hate them all, so much that hatred tears her flesh, she wants to see their faces longing for her to worry and make them believe that it's their fault if it's like that, but in reality it's all her fault, she scarned herself, she ruined herself.

They don't understand it, they don't understand all the effort that makes you weigh every fiber, every little bone, when it's time to get up in the morning and try to survive, when even the air weighs on your head and when you breathe it seems to fill your lungs with pebbles.

Nobody really knows what she feels, not even she deep down.

She finally enters the lobby, the unfamiliar smell of someone else's house impregnates her nostrils and clothes, in a while it will also be her smell.

This makes her shudder and makes her come down a small crystalline tear that flows from her left eye stopping in the middle of the made-up cheek, then falling ruinously on the red shirt she wears.

<<(y/n)? >>

As soon as she hears his uncle's baritone voice, she immediately gets up again, pretending nothing happened, as always.

<<Yes? >> << Today I'm going to train my boys>>

And when the man pronounced "my boys" (y/n) swore that her insides had a slight sting of pain.

It still hurt even if they didn't notice it.

Her uncle has never been so excited to see her, but he’s so happy to see those guys.

According to the girl, this frivolous information was clear proof of the fact that the man was more interested in a bunch of guys he had known for two weeks than in passing time than his traumatized niece.

And this gave her confirmation, she didn't know if it hurt more or she felt more relieved; maybe it would have hurt more to know that she was doing so much scene for nothing, and deep down she knew that it was much more likely that it was like that, but she can't control her emotions, her thoughts.

<<So at least you can do all your things without an old man between your feet>> Rayleigh then added with a half smile, almost as if comforting her, but you could see from a distance a mile that not even he knew how to behave.

<<Okay>> she answered before going to look for her new room not feeling the sigh drawn by the man behind her.

...

..

.

After an hour she received a message from the man informing her that they would eat pizza tonight, to which the girl was a little torn, but she didn't care, she was joyful, because maybe her uncle was actually happy that she was coming to live with him and wanted to celebrate by taking pizza.

She quickly took her agenda and checked: she had ingested twenty calories of grapes, forty calories of creackers and a zero calorie of Coca-Cola. Her plan today was not to binge, especially with a super caloric pizza, but she was so happy that her uncle wanted to celebrate that she lets it go.

After learning this, the girl's empty stomach seemed to be sentient, as she began to grumble vigorously.

After about half an hour the doorbell rang, the girl thought it was strange that her uncle rang to enter her house, but she thought that maybe she had forgotten the keys.

She opened the door and found herself in front of a boy who could have been her age, he had medium-long light pink hair and a little disheveled and on his face a shocked expression.

In a hurry he took out a piece of paper from his pocket and observed it obsessively, and then stared terrified in the girl's eyes.

<<Sorry, but this is Silver Rayleigh's house, right? >>

<<Yes, and you are? >>

<<Coby, I mean, I meant, I'm the delivery boy, I have to deliver the pizzas>>

He spoke stuttering so fast that the girl almost didn't understand him.

<<Given it to me>>

<<Or yes, of course! >>

He handed her ten huge boxes of pizza with almost trembling arms.

<<Wait, maybe, I'll take them inside. Don't worry, I know Rayleigh, he's my P.E. teacher>>

<<Ah, of course>> she replied absently thinking about the abnormal number of pizzas.

Uncle invited someone, she thought.

She thought it was maybe to introduce her to new people, he was happy to have her here, right?

The boy put the pizza boxes on the big wooden table in the living room.

<<So...you are... >>

<<Her niece>> quickly hurried to answer(y/n), predicting the boy's insinuation. Her uncle used to accompany himself with several young women.

<<Ah, okay...and did you just move? >>

The girl nodded quickly.

<<Are you organizing a party? >> he looks at all the pizzas boxes.

The girl looked him in the eyes, uncertain about what he meant, since she didn't even know about it, and this upset her, every little unexpected thing she didn't know upset her, but she tried to stay calm, not only not to give a bad impression but also for herself.

<<Apparently my uncle invited some people>> she concluded with a nervous giggle trying to make it look like it was all in all.

Fortunately, to save them from the embarrassing silence that was being created was the door that opened, revealing Rayleigh.

<<Oh hey, hi Coby, how->> the man was interrupted at the beginning of the question by screams, and suddenly a boy with short black hair entered the room like a hurricane, followed by a small group of other boys.

(Y/n) just knew she was confused, she didn't understand her uncle's intentions.

<<Hey, Luffy calm down>> Rayleigh suddenly blurted out as she put the keys on the chest of drawers and approached the living room table starting to open the pizza boxes to check their contents.

<<(y/n) I don't remember how you liked pizza, but you eat everything anyway, right? >>

This phrase, said so lightly and with disturbing alternative meaning in her mind, broke her heart.

She tried to reassure herself that there was no malice in what his uncle had said, but she could not suppress the impulse to put her arms in front of her stomach trying to cover herself from the eyes of strangers who seemed to weigh inexorably on her figure, scan every gram of fat in her body.

She answered febly with a simple and resigned "yes".

<<Coby- called Rayleigh suddenly, waking up the boy who in the meantime was watching (y/n) with a lost look- stay for tonight, will I talk to Alvida, or do you still have to deliver orders? >>

<<No, in fact, teacher, it was your last order>>

The man smiled.

<<Perfect, then stay. (Y/n), please, go get the dishes>>

The fact that her uncle had not even wasted himself in introducing her further aggravate the situation in the girl's mind to the extremes.

She put the dishes on the dark wood of the table, she didn't dare to look up, in her mind everyone was looking at her thinking about how miserable she was, and despite the number on the scale she kept going down vertiginously, in the mirror she always saw that she was too fat, that something was wrong with her face, in her hair; and then she still thought about it, maybe there was something deeply embarrassing in the way she walked or maybe even in the way she sat. It must have seemed ridiculous, there was no other perspective; and for this it had to work harder.

She finally looked up only when they were all around the table, the looks of others scared her, but not like that meagre slice of Margherita that was resting on the white porcelain of the plate.

She tried to be casual, but the truth was that she couldn't eat in front of the others, not anymore.

She looked at the hyperactive dark boy who was talking loudly with his uncle, it was a fraction of a second, but she felt a rush of anxiety in her veins and for this reason she immediately looked away.

She felt wrong and in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She went back to look at her slice of pizza, praying that no one had noticed that she hadn't touched food yet.

<<What's your name? >>

The question immediately raised the girl's face, finding herself in front of the same onyx eyes crossed a few seconds before.

He had a dazzling smile on his face and his amber skin was embellished with a small scar under his left eye.

<<(y/n)>> she answered quickly, her gaze also wandered on the faces of the others, who had now stopped talking to each other and were watching her.

Her heart was beating fast, she wasn't used to all this attention, especially from the opposite sex, and she didn't know if this thing scared her or liked her.

Then his uncle intervened in the conversation.

<<My niece has just moved and from tomorrow she will start attending school here, and, by the way, I think you are the same age, so you will be in class together, maybe Coby is the little one here>>

The pink-haired boy smiled embarrassed at Rayleigh's statement.

<<And anyway, (y/n), if you need information for school, I'm there too; in fact if you're in class with them I'll be your teacher, better than that, even if tomorrow is my day off maybe... >>

He treated the back of his neck while trying to remember.

<<If you want. my brothers and I make this road every day to go to school, we can take her tomorrow>> the same boy offered himself to her uncle before he continued to observe her with the same smile printed on his beautiful face.

<< It’s ‘Sir’, dumbass! >> A curly and amber-skinned boy interrupted him.

Meanwhile, the girl, who couldn't stand the brunette's oppressive gaze, began to look around the room until she crossed the gaze of a boy with mint green hair. His essence was cooling and he observed it in her soul with those steel-colored eyes, as if he knew, and with this terrible hypothesis that was flooding her meninges, she immediately looked away and finally took the cutlery in her hand, starting to cut the slice on the plate with ease, as if it were a natural gesture and not dictated by panic.

She tried not to think about it too much and immediately put the little piece in his mouth, chewing quickly.

If she had thought about it further, she would probably have gone crazy.

She no longer dared to point his gaze in the direction of that boy with the freezing irises but it is as if the frost of his presence followed his figure making her snare and paper the skin of her neck like a worn sheet of paper.

When the evening was finally over it was already past twenty-one.

(Y/n) lay down on the bed of her room exhausted from the day just passed, but even more tired at the mere thought that this would now be her life.

Suddenly she heard a knock on the door, before her uncle opened it making his head pot slightly.

<<Sorry (y/n) if I'm bothering you. Luffy told me that tomorrow they will be here at half past seven>>

<<Okay, thank you very much>>

<<Good night>>

<<Night>>

Next chapter

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- hand to hand, man to woman

In the days that followed the incident with Graves, Ghost’s concern for your safety only grew stronger. The memory of Graves’ disrespectful behavior towards you weighed heavily on his mind. One sunny morning, he approached you with a determined look in his eyes, his usual stoic demeanor tinged with a sense of urgency.

“Darling, I believe it's time for you to learn hand-to-hand combat and self-defense,” he began.

You raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled by the suggestion. “Hand-to-hand combat? Why would I ever need to learn that when we have countless guards and knights?”

Ghost's expression remained serious as he replied, "Listen, dove, I won't always be here to protect you, and having the guards around can only go so far. Learning self-defense is a crucial skill, one that could prove invaluable in times of danger.”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “You should feel comfortable in your own home. I just want what’s best for you.” 

Your initial reluctance slowly gave way to understanding, and you nodded thoughtfully. “Very well, teach me.”

. . .

Over the next several days, you embarked on a rigorous training regimen with Simon as your instructor. Each morning, before the day's responsibilities took hold, you met in a secluded training area within the palace grounds. Simon taught you the fundamental principles of self-defense, emphasizing agility, smarts, and knowing how to use your body's strength effectively.

You practiced various techniques, from simple strikes and blocks to more advanced moves like escaping holds. Simon was a patient and skilled teacher, always ensuring that you felt comfortable and confident in your abilities.

One day, at the end of one of your training sessions, Simon reached into his belt and retrieved a familiar knife, the same one you had seen the night before he proposed to you in your home kingdom. 

He slid the knife into your hand, the cool metal a reassuring weight. “I want you to keep this,” he said softly. “This knife has always been with me, and now I want it to be a symbol of your safety. You should always feel safe, no matter where you are, even if I’m not with you.”

Touched by his gesture, you held the knife carefully, a tangible reminder of Simon’s dedication to your well-being. Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes as you held the knife close to your heart. You knew that he had always been by your side, watching over you, and this gift was a physical representation of his unwavering commitment to your safety. 

“I'll cherish it forever,” you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. You pulled Simon into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth and strength of his presence. “Thank you for always protecting me, Simon.”

Simon's fingers gently stroked your hair as he held you close. His voice was soft but filled with determination as he spoke, “It's something you'll never have to ask me for, dove. Remember that.”

In that moment, as you held the knife and embraced the man who had become your steadfast protector and loving husband, you felt an overwhelming sense of security and gratitude.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[ninadove]

Having thoughts and feelings today. Specifically about hands.

In Emotion and Pretension, Felix grabbed Kagami’s hand so naturally, and from the second she understood she could trust him back and laced their fingers together in the movie theatre they have never missed an opportunity to touch. In Representation, they are all over each other, to the point they’re practically making out onscreen; they’re magnets, always seeking the other for comfort or reassurance or simply because they love each other so so so so much, despite their amoks being rings, despite one of them being notorious for stealing jewellery. It’s so natural and easy and carved in the absolute trust they place in each other and I need someone to hold me —

On the other hand (HA), the cousins’ relationship is not an easy one: not only is there a lack of trust on both sides, but neither of them is used to this kind of affection, with Adrien being absolutely touch-starved and Felix having very clearly been physically abused. Every handhold of theirs would be a choice, a show of trust, dare I even say a leap of faith, because the risk of rejection is very real on both sides; every handhold of theirs would be a gift they can’t quite believe in, something they have to seize urgently — before it’s gone, before they’re ripped apart again, before the other thinks they’re leaving them behind. Felix learning not to squeeze too tight and Adrien learning to squeeze tighter. Love as a choice you make over and over and over again. Someone hold me bis —

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(First Kiss Edition!)

(Not my picture!)

(I thought this song was perfect for this, I remember watching this in the movie theaters way back when, loved it and still do. The first time I saw a representation of some of my culture on that scale, such an underrated movie.)

- In any situation you guys are in, working together or having two different jobs? I don’t think it’d be a surprise when I say the first kiss happens very early into the relationship and they’re the one to initiate it.

- No coaxing or dancing around the subject, you’re getting kissed like three days into the relationship tops.

- If you guys work for Overwatch together, and y’all won a particularly rough mission after going back and forth with the enemy, emotions are high as the celebration of the triumph proceeds.

- It happens so suddenly, like you’re next to Venture, happy as a clam after putting your all into your fighting. Then, out of nowhere, you’re getting grabbed and pulled into a sudden and passionate kiss that leaves you stunned and flushed, silent as a church mouse when they pull away.

- You know that one scene in ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit’ Where Roger kisses Detective Valiant as if his life depended on it? It’s along the lines of something like that.

- You probably said something like, “I could kiss you right now!” After they saved you from getting pulverized and in their mind they went “Bet”.

- Trust me, they’re also kind of surprised that they actually did it—

- Time freezes for a moment as y’all kissed cause the team to go silent before an uproar from the particularly positive teammates— Causing even more cheering, especially if you have someone like Reinhardt on the team, he’d hype you guys up so much.

- That or if you guys are archeologists or simply have different jobs from one another it’s more private and Sloane can try to convince you that it was on purpose. But in Overwatch? Fuck no lol.

- The whole roster was like 80% sure you guys were a thing, but that went up 1000% when Sloane kissed you as if they needed it to breathe.

- Spreads like wildfire and by the end of the day everyone knows you guys are a couple, and a rather cute one on top of that.

- At least you guys don’t have to tell everyone that you’re a thing now.

- It makes Venture a little sad. They were planning something big to announce it cause they felt like it needed to be as special as they think your guys’s relationship is. They were biting back the urge to brag about it for 72 hours (the longest time they’ve ever kept something like that to themselves besides their feelings before you guys were a thing), all for naught.

- Reassure them it isn't a big deal and that if they look at it from a different perspective, the first kiss was a great way of doing it.

- They’ll spring back up when you say that, saying something like “Oh I planned to do it like that anyways!”

- You know, like a liar.

- Besides that little hiccup, it was a great first kiss, they wouldn't have it any other way.

- As one might expect, everyone has different views on the matter, with the positive ones that are like “Aweee look at them go!” And think it’s cute: (Ana, D.Va, Junkrat; a mix between neutral but more positive nonetheless, Kiriko, Lucio, Lifeweaver, Illari, Mei, Mercy, Reinhardt, Sigma; same as Junkrat)

- Neutral, like, “Oh, cool, congrats Ig”: (Brigitte; a bit more positive but still neutral, Baptiste, Bastion, Cassidy, Echo, Genji, Hanzo, Junker Queen, Orisa, Symmetra, Torbjorn, Solider 76, Roadhog, Sombra, Sojourn, Winston, Zarya, and Zenyatta: same as Brigitte but a bit more happy)

- Then the negative, the “I don’t need to know about about that you keep that to yourself”: (Ashe, Doomfist, Moira; sassy about it, Mauga; He’s like an annoying older brother that is constantly trying to embarrass their younger sibling— That sibling rivalry between him and Venture is wildddd, Reaper, Ramattra; a bit more neutral, Wrecking Ball; Blunt and mean about it too lmao, Widowmaker; graduated with her master’s degree in the art of being a hater).

(FINALLY! On the last scheduled headcanon post! Yippeee! Hopefully I’ll now be able to get some requests from y’all now that I’m done with this last one!)

[huellitaa]

friendship breakups 🎀 . ࣪˖

OKAY. so. i was best friends with this girl for 7 years and only recently i ditched her! after so so so so long i ditched her. finally. and my god i feel SO much better.

˚₊‧꒰ა friendship ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

someone that you experience a bond with.

˚₊‧꒰ა toxic friendship ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

someone who drains you and hurts you while still considering themselves a friend.

i think one of the hardest parts of this whole situation is figuring out what makes somebody toxic for you without constantly over-romanticising all the good parts.

˚₊‧꒰ა clear signs of a toxic friendship ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡ dreading communication with them

♡ feeling drained after interactions

♡ being insecure and fearful around them

♡ holding off on telling them big things

♡ used as a joke way too often

♡ kept in the dark as just a "backup plan"

♡ left out & overlooked.

a friend should be somebody who hypes you up and makes you laugh and rambles for ages with you and makes dumb jokes with you and makes you happy and doesn't leave you out or make you feel alienated or upset or anything like that. it took me 4 whole years to actually realise this.

now, if you find yourself in a position where you are experiencing these signs of a toxic friendship but aren't really sure what to do, this is what i did!:

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ weigh out the goods & bads

if you're currently stuck with somebody who makes you feel drained and insecure and whatever else may be making you feel as though maybe you should cut them off, it sounds a little weird but as somebody who works way better puzzling things out when doing it on paper, i made a whole pros and cons list of what this friendship brings to my life. having a physical representation of your confusing thought process around the whole situation can be very beneficial and help to put your thoughts into clarity so you can make a decision that actually helps and aligns with you and go from there.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ figure out your friendship standards

everybody always talks about having standards in romantic relationships and love and all that but i barely hear anything on standards for friendships. friendships are just as important as romantic relationships, and having standards for friendships is equally essential as it would be in a relationship if you dont want to attract scruffy, dirty, insecure people who will only drag you down. ask yourself what your ideal friend looks like; somebody who shares your interests, somebody who supports you, somebody with a similar mindset to you, similar background to you; what is it that you want in a friendship? how do you define friendship? what does that look like for you? make a list and keep it somewhere safe. refer to this when making new friends and cutting them off.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ think back on your actions

a harsh truth of life is sometimes we are the problem. something i did for way longer than i should have is spend time going back over my every word, every movement, every action to see if there was something i did wrong. now dont do what i did, but do just sit down for a little bit and think if there was anything you could have possibly done and bring it up with them to resolve it if you did. admitting your wrongs is not weak. it is the strongest thing one can do.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ get a second opinion

one thing that helped me was talking to my mum about it. me and my mum are really close so i chose her but it can be another close friend, a parent, a partner, just whatever you feel comfy with. try to put it into a hypothetical situation so that they have no prior biased views on the situation and explain to them the scenario and see what they would do and what they would say. if you have no one to do it with, then thats absolutely fine because this is completely optional and just helped me to reassure myself a bit, but you can also think of it from an outsiders perspective or if a friend was telling you that they are experiencing what you're currently going through so you can get an unbiased opinion from yourself.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ let yourself feel how you feel

if you need to, just sit and cry for a bit. journal, write, wallow in your own sadness for a bit if thats what you need to release it from yourself. suppressing and holding all this in is way, way worse for you than letting it out could ever be. just have one night where you rot and cry and be sad about it. this releases the negative energy you've been holding onto about it and i promise you will feel so much lighter afterwards.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ demonising and romanticising

in these situations, its best to keep a neutral mindset towards them. even if its toxic, they were your friends in the first place for a reason and even if you shouldn't romanticise them dont demonise them and completely despise them either because thats not good for you or them. they are still an experience you went through in your life and are to be learnt from, nothing more. respect the good parts just as much as the bad parts.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ dealing with conflict

something i really really worried about for years when i wanted to leave my ex-best friend was the falling out and the social backlash, seeing as she's fairly popular too. but while i was expecting sooo much backlash and conflict, it turns out that if you do it the right way, nobody really cares. sure, it might attract a little attention for a while, but trust in yourself and remembering that nobody will actually care about this in a few weeks will get you through and you can move on with your life. if people can turn against you from only hearing one side of the story, they were never your people. plus, why are you stressing about validation from people you don't even like in the first place?

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ detachment

one thing that has saved me in many, many situations, including this one, is not giving a fuck. i will be making a post on detachment at some point but detachment in friendship breakups especially is so important because its easy to let your emotions get the best of you and control you and make irrational decisions in these situations. staying completely indifferent and detached and comfortable in yourself with you as your main priority has to be one of if not the most important part of this whole process.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ moving on

obviously moving on is difficult. moving on might be one of the most difficult things about the whole experience of a friendship breakup. so along with feeling the emotions and releasing them like i mentioned earlier, acknowledge that it's okay to mourn the past, even if they were bad for you. thats perfectly normal and okay. but do not let it consume you. trust in yourself and that this is for the best, and be proud of yourself for getting out of that friendship because there's so much you haven't yet learned and so many people you haven't yet met that will change your whole life in ways you can't possibly imagine right now. ♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ trusting yourself

trust that no matter what's going on right now you will always be able to bounce back from it. trust your judgement and that if it makes you feel this bad, you arent overreacting, you arent overemotional, you arent just sensitive and it is genuinely affecting and impacting you. everything is an experience to be learnt and grow from and this is no different. its uncomfortable and its scary but the shift to getting everything you want is often scary and uncomfortable because of how much has to change to achieve that reality. if there's one person you're always going to have no matter what, it's going to be you. you are your own best friend. trust yourself above anybody and everybody else.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ actually cutting them off

one thing i did that i feel could have ended things a lot easier is not procrastinate the process of actually cutting them off. it was a little easier for me because she was ghosting me anyway so i did the same and told her no whenever she wanted me to do something because i refuse to be a second option, but if you're not comfortable with that and can't do it in a good or polite way because of whatever circumstances you might be in then just politely tell them. plan out what you wanna say in your head, dont think about it and just tell them. it will all be for the best, i promise. being uncomfortable is a part of change. you can do this.

overall, everybody enters your life and everybody leaves your life for a reason. please don't take this personally. people are not meant to stay forever. relationships are precious and fleeting, no matter what kind, and you should treasure them, good or bad, while accepting it might not be right for you anymore. people aren't supposed to stay forever and losing friends shows that you are growing. you've got this, okay? 💞💗

[skele-bunny]

okay okay okay gimme pregnant swiss!!! (with mountain ofc)

Self Conscious. (CW) Mountain/Swiss

CW - Self Image Issues, "fat" used negatively

Characters: Swiss, Mountain

(Hi STINKY 🫵 Swissalps for you. Fluff post! Divider by @ wrathofrats )

Staring into the mirror felt like a burden. A disgrace and reminder of how tormented and swollen Swiss felt. His eyes lingered as he turned, grimace worsening as his very obvious, very big, very fat pregnant stomach looked back. Carrying twins wasn't pretty, Swiss knew it wouldn't be. He just didn't expect it to look so bad on him. After all, Swiss was only three months pregnant at this point. He felt disproportionate. His keyhole scars around his chest just a bright pink as his breasts started swelling again, leading to another thing Swiss hated about his current stature.

Stretch marks ran up his sides, armpits, and more importantly his stomach. The soft flesh just above his genitals had started swelling just as much to the point he required help to shave himself. Needless to say, Swiss felt fucking ugly.

The multi turned to see skin rolls on his back, and that just seemed to set him off. Tears slowly swelled before openly crying, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He used the sink counter to lower onto the closed toilet seat, tail wrapping around his thigh and squeezing for some kind of reassurance that did nothing but make it worse as Swiss eyed the extra fat it squeezed.

His sobs wracked through his body, setting off a surge of both hormones and elements, dead flowers popping up through his frazzled hair he hadn't gotten done yet. Even worse, his body felt hotter than normal, hand going to his chest as a warning burp made itself known. He was a mess. Through and through. Another wail left, finger pads pushing into his round stomach.

"Petal?" A knock at the closed bathroom door echoed, Mountain's scent of worry becoming obvious as the smell of wet dirt clouded. "Are you alright? I could smell you from the kitchen."

The sentence hit worse, Swiss now too obvious of his own body odor from not showering yet. "G-Go away!" He sobbed again.

"Oh, darling... What's the matter?"

Swiss couldn't find it in himself to respond, frantically wiping his cheeks and shaking his head. The door knob jiggled before a silent curse, a tiny vine slipping through the keyhole and the wooden door opened, Swiss snapping his head up and grabbing the roll of toilet paper near to throw at Mountain's head—Who thankfully ducked in time.

"Get out!" He now grabbed their toothbrush holder, throwing it next. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Mountain lifted his hand, catching the container quickly but placing it back down with gentleness. "Swiss... What's the matter?" He got down to one knee, ignoring as Swiss pushed at his shoulders and chest.

He kept sobbing, "Get away from me! I-I smell bad, and you said you could smell me, and I don't even know how you can stand looking at me!" Swiss fumbled as Mountain carefully grabbed his wrists, concern written on the earth ghoul.

"Darling, you smell distressed, not bad... Sweetheart..." Mountain whined, lifting his hands away to carefully wipe away tears that fell from his mates puffy face. "What's ailing you?"

Moving to lean into Mountain's calloused palms, Swiss sniffled again, his ears drooped. "I feel so ugly, Mount... I can't stand looking at myself anymore. I try t-to find positives in everything but I just can't. I'm not cut out for this..."

In an instant, Mountain's heart shattered. In his eyes, Swiss was the representation of the sun and moon, the existence of both life and death. He was beautiful. Represented every single thing Mountain loved, packed into one. To know his mate seen himself in such a negative light hurt him, better yet the fact of how much his mate was hurting—unbeknownst to Mountain this entire time.

"Are you having second thoughts?" He asked quietly, leaning up to rest his chin on Swiss' shoulder so the other could dead weight against him.

"No—Maybe? I don't know... I feel so lost. I feel so disgusting about everything. I love you, I love our children, but I can't... Love myself. I can't love the fact that me growing our kits is doing this to me."

The earth ghoul trilled, tail swaying some as he thought for a moment. "Can I use my logic?"

"I love your logic." Swiss laughed some, letting tears continue to quietly go down Mountain's shoulder.

"Okay, well... Tell me what you're not liking."

"My breasts are coming back."

"Well, since you stopped testosterone, your estrogen is coming back in play. Our bodies are quick to adapt, and you're in another adaptation stage. They're now clicking into your other hormones like prolactin which is causing the growth. However, since you had top surgery, your prolactin is trying to fill in the gaps which is causing the bumps." Mountain moved back, showing Swiss the bumps along his chest. "They're swelling your ducts more to prepare for the kits as you're carrying multiple and don't have bigger areas to swell at. However, once the kits get out of a nursing stage, you'll start getting flat again."

"So it's not," Swiss looked up, grimacing just a bit. "Forever?"

"No. Not forever. They may have a bit of a swelling for a long time, but not outright breasts. You'll just have some Aether tits." That caused a laugh from the multi, slowly kicking his feet back and forth.

"My stomach."

The taller moved down again, nuzzling his face against the bump and kissing it gently. "Your uterus is creating extra layers of protection and enlarging itself for nutrients and more blood flow using endometrium. Since you're growing two rascals, it's having to expand more to adjust to their sizes. Earth kits are known for being giants... Let alone the sac placed around them. But your body is adjusting to the size change and actively going to keep them healthy."

Swiss stayed silent, looking down as Mountain caressed his stomach. His fingers were so delicate, going up his stretch marks to his belly button. He leaned in once more to place a kiss.

"If you're worried about what you'll look like after, our skin is elastic. It's how we're able to shift through our forms without ripping ourselves open. You can maintain your size, if that's what you want, or simply use your elasticity to shimmer back down. Your stretch marks, though, won't go away..." Mountain sighed, admiring his mate's skin. "But I love them. Baphomet save me, I love them so much. Every single one of them."

A small laugh, "Even the ones on my cooch?"

"Even the ones on your cooch."

Leaning down, Swiss gently cupped Mountain's jaw so they could make eye contact. "Do you promise that you still love me? That I'm attractive? I don't even fit in your clothes anymore..."

"Oh, petal... I think if mother nature was a person, it'd be you. I think you're more beautiful than the earth." Swiss' heart jumped, tears swelling up more.

It was a serious mockery to ghouls to whisper your love more than your element, but such a strong example of devotion. Swiss wrapped his arms around Mountain's neck, crying harder against his shoulder. Never once did Mountain let go of Swiss, purring and sending comforting pheromones to try and relax.

Wiping his eyes on Mountain's collar, Swiss exhaled. "I need to shower and do my hair, I just need to feel... Better."

"Want me to help you?"

"...Please." Swiss nodded. "I need to shave."

"Ahh, deforestation. The bane of my existence."

Swiss broke into hysterical laughter, covering his mouth as he snorted. Even Mountain kept a smile as he leaned over to turn on their shower, making sure the temperature was comfortable.

"Am I washing your hair?" He asked, questioning to grab Swiss' shower cap or not.

"Yeah." Mountain placed the cap back on their shower caddy.

Slowly stripping himself, Swiss couldn't help but eye the stretch marks Mountain had on his back, slowly looking down at his thighs that had similar design. He smiled somewhat, rubbing his thumb over the discolored line.

"And what would my darling like his style to be once we're done?" Mountain scooped Swiss up, stepping them into the warm water, sitting him on the shower stool. "Are we thinking buns, are we thinking top knots, maybe even twists?" His claws gently began to rake through Swiss' messy afro, pick carefully sectioning his hair.

The sigh of relief that left Swiss could easily be mistaken for a moan, Mountain's tail twitching in response. He gave a chuckle, moving to kiss his mate's forehead.

"Dealers choice?"

Swiss nodded, moving his back against Mountain's fur-covered legs. "Yeah... Dealer's choice."

[tit-spoilers]

I really hope that Dan and Phil know how much their presence on the internet has done for their aromantic/arospec fans (even though I don't think they do)

I know everyone is talking about a hard launch, and I love the jokes, but ultimately them keeping the details of their relationship to themselves has inadvertently made it so that arospec people (as represented by me personally, I am not about to speak for a whole entire community with a variety of experiences) feel represented and reassured. Not saying that Dan and Phil are themselves arospec or in a QPR or anything like that. I'm actually almost 100% sure they don't even know those words. But that doesn't mean their relationship can't be aspirational for people like me. Because it doesn't fit into a box. It's not made valid and significant by the label of romantic. The reason it's so magical is just because it's them and they love each other. Their relationship is unlike anyone else's, because no one's relationship is like anyone else's. It doesn't matter if a relationship is "romantic" or "platonic" or anything else. What matters is that they love each other a lot, and they have for a long time. And that's so hopeful. It's about the idea that you don't have to fit your relationships into neat little boxes. It can just be that you make each other laugh, support each other no matter what, know way too much about each other, and love each other so much it seeps into everything you do.

All of this is not to say that I would complain about a hard launch. If they do it, then of course I will be very happy for them, because it would mean that they feel comfortable enough for that. And if that makes them happy, then hell yeah!! Good for them!! But I just don't think they will. Because at this point everything they've shared carries way more weight than the word "dating" ever could. And that's why I, as an arospec person, feel grateful for the representation of the kind of relationship(s) I want in my life. They are a prime example of a relationship the value of which does not lie in a label.

Overall, "We were more than just romantic" <- yessssss yessss yeeeesssssssssss yeeesssssss yessss

(Also they love playing mind games with us and we love their mind games but that's a separate topic lmao)

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Aces

Amelia Shepherd x ace!fem!reader Warnings: mostly fluffy but definitely some mentions/discussions of sex, ace representation wooooooo, some explicit language Word Count: 1.1k Summary: You come out as asexual on a date with Amelia, and you're worried about how she'll react. But it turns out that maybe honesty really is the best policy–for both of you.

*Reader & Asexuality. Asexuality is a spectrum! No one person's ace identity is the same as someone else's. If you're ace and don't see yourself represented in the reader's perspective here, just know that your identity is still so valid! It's just impossible to encompass the beautifully wide range of what it means to be ace in one story or one perspective.

"Oh my god," Amelia said, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no!" you reassured her, touching Amelia's arm lightly to keep her from pulling away. "I like kissing you. I like you. I think I would probably like more, but... I just– I don't know. I wanted to be up front."

Amelia looked skeptical, no longer the suave, sure woman she'd been moments before.

You tried not to sound desperate. "It doesn't have to mean no sex, I don't think. For me, it just means that I'm mostly, generally uninterested. But not necessarily? God," you cursed. "I feel like I'm fucking this up."

You looked at the ground, trying not to feel panicked. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd been really, truly attracted to in your life. Amelia was one of them. You felt Amelia's hand slip into yours and looked up, equal parts hopeful and afraid.

"I've, uh, never been with someone who's asexual," Amelia said, clearly trying to put both of you at ease.

You returned to your walk on the waterfront, dusk closing in around the two of you.

"I like you, too," Amelia continued nervously. "I mean, I really like you. But I'm very much a sexual person, and I don't want–for either of us–for this to get too far and..."

"Yeah," you replied. "Me too."

"So," Amelia said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. "You're ace! Tell me about it!"

"Well," you started, thoughts jumbling around in your head. "I like women. Romantically anyway. Sometimes sexually, I guess? I don't really know. I've never..." You paused and blushed. "I've never actually had sex." You shook your head and let out a shaky breath. "Shit, you didn't need to know that. Sorry."

Amelia squeezed your hand. "Don't be sorry."

"Anyway," you continued, scared that if you stopped you wouldn't start again. "I masturbate sometimes so, like, I know I at least enjoy the sensation, but... real life always felt unnecessary, like it was overcomplicating things. There just aren't many people I look at and think, Yeah, I could see myself having sex with them. But I don't know for sure because I've never done it, and I don't want to lead anyone on. And I'm scared because the only other person I've felt that about, well, we were both super religious and it wasn't safe to be out so we weren't out. To anyone or even to ourselves, really. And I always let her take the lead in how far we went because I was so scared that she'd misinterpret anything I did and think I was gay. Of course, I was, but I didn't know that at the time..."

You stopped and looked out across the darkening bay. "I'm sorry," you said, rubbing your forehead. "I'm rambling now. This is probably too much. I'm a lot."

"I'm a lot, too," Amelia commented, playfully jostling your shoulder. "I'm just not as brave and up front about it as you."

You avoided eye contact, sure that if you met Amelia's eyes you'd see what you were dreading: that Amelia was no longer interested, was just a nice person, continuing the date and the conversation out of kindness.

"Hey." Amelia interrupted your thoughts, tapping your hand. "You said the only other person you've thought about sex with."

You stayed quiet.

"Does that mean you've thought about with me?"

You flushed a deep red and stared at the ground. Amelia smirked, finding your embarrassment adorable.

"Hey, there," she said, smiling, bending down in front of your bent head to meet your eyes. Amelia put her hands on either side of your head, pushing your hair behind your ears and lifting your chin.

"Hey," Amelia continued, grinning fully now. "I am one of the two people in the world that Y/N finds attractive. I mean, talk about knowing how to make a girl feel pretty."

You smiled quickly, taking Amelia's hand as you continued your walk.

"And I've thought about it, too," Amelia added. "Just so you know. A lot."

You flushed again and chanced a glance at Amelia who, if anything, seemed more excited and into you than before. You couldn't believe it.

Stopping you with a hand on your wrist, Amelia leaned down and kissed you, running her thumb back and forth along your cheek. When she pulled away, you were dumbstruck.

Amelia searched your eyes, as if she were trying to decipher a foreign language.

"Do you like that?" she asked.

You nodded a little too enthusiastically. "So much, yes."

"So I have a proposition," Amelia said, turning around and wrapping her arm through yours as you turned back.

"Okay," you prompted, savoring the feeling of Amelia so close to you.

"I say we try. I think we should try having sex. Only if you're up for it, of course. And all along the way, you can decide what you like and what you don't. And we can stop at any time. I promise I won't be upset. That way we'll know."

You stumbled through your words. "I'm not... experienced, so–"

Amelia turned to you and raised her eyebrows. "Y/N. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know what I'm doing. And if you don't enjoy yourself, you can be sure that you would not enjoy having sex with anyone. Because I'm really good."

You ran a hand through your hair, your face reddening, and a smile creeping across your face.

"I'm kind of excited actually."

Amelia jumped and shrieked. "I know, right!? I've never been someone's first! God, I can't wait to blow your fucking mind!" She pulled herself back down to earth and cleared her throat. "Unless you don't want to or you don't like it, which is totally fine. But I really hope you do because you are so hot." She said this last part more to herself than to you.

You smiled at Amelia's happy little dance. You were really, truly excited. Nervous, too. But excited. Riding high on the moment, you put one hand on the side of Amelia's face and wrapped the other arm around the small of her back.

And you kissed her. You kissed her. Your stomach did somersaults as you felt Amelia's hands on your waist, felt Amelia's mouth deepening the kiss. You kept going, surprised at how good Amelia's tongue felt in your mouth, how good it felt to hold the back of her head in your hands.

There was no one around in the dim early night, just you and the wind and the water. Amelia pressed her body into yours, and you could feel the buckle of Amelia's belt pressing into you. Your body took you off guard as you whined into Amelia's mouth, a noise that had never come out of you before. Amelia pulled away, running a hand over her lips and looking smug.

"You like that?" Amelia asked, already knowing the answer. You nodded, panting like a dog. You had never felt like this before. Almost hungry. It scared you a little.

"You want more?"

You surprised yourself by nodding even more vigorously.

"Yeah," you said, breathlessly. "I think I do."

Amelia grinned and bit her lip, taking your hand and leading you away.

"Where are you taking me?" you laughed, face flushed, electricity running between Amelia's hand and yours.

"Bed," Amelia replied, nearly dragging you as she sped to the car.

[monowritestoomuch]

YuuriVoice Characters Reacting To You Having A Tic Spasm/Tic Attack:

Notes: 

I wish there were VA’s doing tic attack comfort audios, but I can never find any :(

I lowkey forgot what Faust calls his listener so someone please let me know in comments or reblogs. Also made a masterlist!

I wrote this because I actually want decent representation for tics in the modern day but sadly Hollywood sucks so might as well do it myself, as someone with tics. This took a really long time! If you have any questions, feel free to ask in the comments or reblogs!

And if you’re bald, I formally apologize.

Also, I’ve been super busy with a cosplay so this would’ve been done sooner but I’ve been busy so sue me. If I mix tenses, I tried, okay? Enjoy this as my ability to write and post is about to go down the drain.

Alphonse🍬:

Tic Spasm & Large Scale Tic Attack

You were laying on your bed in the morning, having just woken up. You were groggy and stiff. That’s all you thought you were. Stiff.

Alphonse lay by your side, sleeping soundly. He seemed to be so peaceful while he slept, a gentle smile creeping onto your face as you looked at his beautiful own, bathed in the morning light. 

You try to sit up, which would have been easy. Simple and easy, if it was a normal morning. 

You feel your muscles convulse and stiffen, panic overcoming you. You fall back on your mattress, head hitting your pillow. You start to shake as your tics overcome your body, vision blurring. Your neck started to twitch and snap in multiple directions, as your back froze up, shaking. 

You felt movement beside you, and a hand on your bicep, shaking you lightly. You could slightly hear a voice, but your hearing was going in and out, eyes shaking side to side and up and down. 

Your vision hazed back in as you turned your head to face. . .your loving boyfriend, brows knitted with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Hey, hey, Boo,” he said softly, cradling your arm. “You can hear me now, right? Yeah, yeah?” To that, you nodded. 

“The ticking thing you told me about? Tourette's? Tic spasm, right?” he asked, lips downturned as you attempted to nod before your neck snapped in the other direction. “Okay, okay. I get it you can’t really talk right now, so just try and breathe, like you usually do,” he attempted to reassure. “Deep breaths, okay. Here, I’ll breathe with you, okay?” 

The two of you took deep breaths, yours much shakier than his own as your body slowly stopped ticcing and shaking. Once it stopped completely, he spoke up again. 

“You feelin’ better, Boo?” he asked, an empathetic expression on his face. “Can I hug you?” he asked after you nodded in response to the previous question. He wrapped you in his arms, his lips in your hair, kissing the top of your head as he cradled you.

Seth🐺:

Collapsing/Wooziness with tic attacks (Cuddle comforting)

It was a normal day at your house, unpacking some old boxes with Seth’s help, which you very much appreciated. The two of you had cleared out so many boxes within the past few hours and it was going smoothly. 

That was until you started to feel a little woozy.

You’d had a slight headache for an hour at that point, and because it was dull, you didn’t think much of it when it started, but it only became worse.

A chill crawled up your spine as you picked up the next cardboard box, Seth carrying two boxes to the opposite side of the room.

Your head was swimming and your back was tingling. Your chest felt heavy. You shakily set down the box, although the weight wasn’t heavy, you felt yourself shaking. You felt slightly lighter when you put it down, deciding to sit down on the floor, resting your head against the wall, the coolness feeling like heaven on your forehead. 

Your head was still spinning as Seth slowly walked over, kneeling in front of you and looking you in the eyes as you twitched, head spinning. You looked up to face him, a pained expression on your face, seeing a concerned expression on his. 

“You okay, Sugar?” he asked, concern etching his features. You nodded absentmindedly, humming in response. 

“‘m ‘bit dizzy,” you muttered dizzily. “-felt like collapsing.”

Seth nodded, still evidently concerned. “You want me to get you some water?” he asked. 

“Mhm,” you hummed. He kissed your brow, leaving the room briefly, before returning a few minutes later with a cup of ice water.

He held it in front of you, handing it to you, your hands shaking as you held the glass up to your lips. He held his hands under the glass, just in case you dropped it. “Sip slowly,” he ordered, not sounding like much of an order, but more of an educated ask. 

You drank the water in gulps, the coolness of it a pleasant relief on your headache and chest. 

You had but a moment to set down the glass before your body started shaking harder and you forced yourself to swallow the last gulp of water before you started twitching uncontrollably. 

Seth backed up a foot, deciding to give you some space, as he knew you hated to be cramped.

He held his hands in your own, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of your hands. You didn’t understand why, but it helped, your ticcing calming down, albeit only slightly. 

He sat next to you, you placing your head on his shoulder as your shaking continued, legs outstretched. 

Once the shaking slowed and your breathing returned to a semi-normal state, he started to rub your back slowly, pressing a kiss into your hair. His hands were big and warm, a feeling of calmness washing over you.

“You feel a bit better now, Sugar?” he asked, concern still evident in his face. 

“Yeah,” you responded, speech still slightly slurred. “Less dizzy.”

“Good,” he answered, wrapping his arms around you, as if to both comfort you and himself. “I want you to be safe and happy, and I wish I could fix this whole thing and make it go away for you, but I can’t and I’m sorry,” he apologized. 

“It’s not your fault,” you responded almost instantly. “I’ve had this for a long time now, I know how to work around it, it just sometimes gets the better of me and–” you pause. “-sometimes I need to rest in someone’s big, strong arms,” you attempt to joke. 

Seth doesn’t laugh, but a small, gentle smile appears on his face. He kisses you on the cheek, laying down with you on the hardwood floor and cuddling with you until you felt well enough to stand up again.

Auron🩸:

Vocal and physical tic attack

Auron had been wondering where you were, as you weren’t in your cubicle in the law department and your co-workers had reported to have not seen you for over an hour, which concerned him. 

He walked past the breakroom, seeing you inside, shaking on one of the chairs. He could hear your rapid breathing and could see the panicked expression in your eyes. 

Your left hand was over your chest, your left hand practically tearing your hair out. Your pupils were blown wide and you were twitching every few seconds. 

You knew it got bad, but never this bad.

Auron sped into the breakroom, and right up to where you sat. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, hands in front of him, unsure whether he should touch you.

“T-wooooo-t-tic attack–” you attempt to say, stuttering and ticcing between words. “-’m sorry boss, I’ll get back to work soon, I just ‘ave to–”

“No, absolutely not,” he interrupted, shutting you down. “You are shaking, Rook,” he started. “And you can barely speak.”

Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment as you looked down, still shaking. 

He sighed. “You said that it would be this bad during the interview, and on your file, but-” he paused. “-I didn’t think it would hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” You responded quickly, fist waving wildly around you, trying to be cautious as to not hit your boss. “Just,” you pause, your voice cracking as you repeat the word. “-tense, just tense.”

Auron frowned at you, seemingly not believing in your explanations. “You’re panicking too, you know.”

You had noticed your breathing speeding up and becoming rapid and inconsistent.

“Sorry,” you apologized. Auron’s frown deepened. 

“Would you,” he paused, not knowing if it would help, or if it would make your ticcing worse. “Can I hug you?” he blurted out, eyes looking anywhere but yours. 

Your back was tense as you remembered how nice his hands felt when you two would spend nights together. Although he seemed tough, his large, warm hands would rub your back, sending you to a realm of comfort and sleepiness.

You thought for a moment before attempting a nod before your neck snapped in the other direction, continuing to twitch. 

He sat in the chair beside you, wrapping his muscular arms around you, his hands on your back, tracing shapes into it.

You were sent into a sense of calmness, his tracing feeling familiar and comfortable in the background of the rain pattering on the windows outside. 

You were still shaking, but the warmth that spread across your body relaxed you, lessening the flinching and twitching until you were barely shaking at all. 

Once your breathing was regular, Auron stopped tracing the shapes on your back, retracting his hands to his pockets. 

“Are you,” he stopped, taking a breath before he spoke again. “Do you feel better? And don’t spout apologies–you don’t have to apologize for this.”

You nodded, not feeling like talking anymore.

“Don’t worry,” he started, standing up. “Leave early today, don’t worry about the work, deadline extended,” he said, walking to the door, stopping as he opened it, a foot out the door. “If-if you ever need someone–just to talk to about this, come find me in my office.”

You silently thanked him, a slight smile on your face, as he walked out of the door. He seemed stoic, but underneath you knew, he cared. He cared about you.

Faust🥏:

Tic attack (+regular panicking)

“Hey,” Faust started, entering your streaming room. “You ended the stream abruptly, what the hell happe–oh shit.”

What he saw was you, lying on your back on your fluffy rug, shaking and twitching. Your head was twitching backwards every few seconds, hitting the fluffy rug, which didn’t help much as it was thin and the floors were hardwood. 

“So this is why you abruptly ended the stream,” he realized aloud, watching as you shook and flinched. 

You could barely talk, your hearing blurring in and out through your aching head. Tears streaked down your face, warm, salty and unending. 

Faust didn’t know how to help you, panic settling in his veins as your condition only got worse. 

The back of your head kept hitting the rug, the underlying floor giving you a headache. You could feel your arms moving without your brain telling them to, going in several different directions, freezing in the middle of the air for a minute before twitching back down at your sides.

“What-what do I do?” Faust asked, clearly more panicked than you were. You could tell he was on the edge of a minor panic attack with how he was acting. He seemed to be panicking about this whole thing even more than you were.

“I–” You try to say, repeating the vowel several times over due to your ticcing. “J-just a tic attack, ‘m gonna be fine–woooooo-” you pause, shaking terribly. “-just give me a-a minute-”

“Fuck! Should I call a doctor?” he shouted, pacing the room. “Should I call my brother, he might know what to do–no, no he wouldn’t even answer his phone!” You hear him ramble. He opens his phone, seemingly googling something. 

“How–no, what to do when your friend has a tic attack?” he mutters, typing the words into the search box on his phone. “Remain calm, don’t draw attention to it, and simply offer quiet support–do you want a hug or a shoulder pat or something?”

You smile at his attempt of assistance warmly. “Could I have the Disney themed w-woooo-weighted blanket?” You ask in-between tics.

“Ye-yeah, of course,” he responds, running out of the room for a moment before running back in and draping the Winnie the Pooh weighted blanket over your body, the weight helping with the tics.

Faust plops himself into a criss-cross-apple-sauce on the fluffy rug, eyes watching you intently as your ticcing calmed down. He sat beside you, hands in his lap until your ticcing stopped, making sure you were okay after and writing down a note to do some research on tics in the near future. 

Charlie🍕:

Zoning out, shaking and minor tics

“Hey Casp’, I’m back from my shift!” he shouted through the apartment, which was unusually silent. “Casper?” he called out, walking further into the apartment. 

He found you trying to make dinner in the kitchen, shaking and twitching as you held onto the dark-toned counters, eyes unfocused. 

He ran over to you, gently taking your forearms in his hands, feeling your arms shake. He walked you down to the couch to sit, your eyes still unfocused. 

Your hearing blurred, as did your vision. You could hear Charlie talking to you about something, seemingly ranting, as he held your shaking arms in his hands. Your eyes were unfocused, eyes facing a wall with a painting on it. 

As your vision blurred back in, you could see the painting clearer. It was one of the few that you’d brought when you moved in with Charlie. A sailboat amongst a calm water city port, several boats around it and in the distance of the painting, clouds gathering overhead. Some of the tiny people in the painting were waving, others sailing and others moving objects in the painting. But the big sailboat in the middle of the painting was the focal point. A woman, dressed in a Dolly Varden dress and a pirate captain’s hat stood sailing it, her long red hair blowing in what seemed to be a breeze, a wide smile on her face, eyes squinted. 

Focusing on the painting had cleared your mind a bit, allowing you to focus more. You remembered why you’d bought it. You’d bought it at a garage sale in your hometown, before you had moved to the city, finding it stunningly beautiful. It reminded you of life in a sort of way, beautiful and peaceful for but a moment. The approaching clouds symbolized the things that could go wrong, or would go wrong. The duality of life and man. The Approaching Storm, it was named. You’d been attached to the painting ever since, not understanding why, but just feeling like it was important enough to garner your spirit.

Your eyes focused, turning your head to face Charlie, who was facing you, concerned, until you faced him. 

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey,” he responded, looking at you warmly. “You feel any better?”

“Yeah,” you answered, tired. “I forgot to take my meds yesterday, and this happ-happened, sorry–”

“Don’t apologize, you can’t control these things sometimes,” he told you, drawing you into a hug. “I’ll make sure you take your meds tonight–and for the rest of the week if you need it?”

You nodded, smiling as you hugged him back, warmth pooling in your chest. 

“Wanna watch movies and eat the leftover Chinese food in the fridge?” he asked, a cheeky smile appearing on his face. 

“I th-thought you’d never ask,” You responded as he stood up from the couch, wrapping a fluffy blanket over you and going over to the kitchen and opening the fridge, grabbing a few containers and bringing them over to the coffee table as you turned on Deadpool.

Lucien😈:

Collapsing(minor), tic attack, absence of medication

“Human–I mean Angel! I’ve brought back some of that human food you like! I think you called it pizza? I got you the one with the cheesy crust, and the cheesy breadsticks!” Lucien called out into your apartment, smiling widely as he carried two boxes, one big pizza box and one smaller box, filled to the brim with cheesy breadsticks.

When he received no response, he called out again. “Angel?” 

Lucien walked around the apartment calling your name, until he found you collapsed on your bedroom floor. “Angel!” he shouted, rushing over to your shaking body, the boxes of food making a ‘thud’ sound as they hit the floor. 

“‘m fine Lucien,” You say, voice raspy and dry. 

“Like hell you are!” he exclaims, his face a cross between angry and concerned. “I know for a fact this is not normal human behavior! Humans don’t just collapse!” he shouted,  his voice ringing through the apartment, and your head. 

He was so loud, and your head was throbbing in your skull. 

“I ran out of meds, Luci–” You interrupted quietly, your voice slightly above a whisper. “-’nd I can’t get any more for another week, when I get my paycheck–” You continued, feeling drowsy. 

“Human medicine should be free,” he huffs. “We have free medication in Hell.”

How is Hell’s medicare system somehow better than the medicare system on Earth? You wondered. 

“We agr–wahhhh–we agree on th-that,” You say in-between tics, your body shaking. You felt colder since Fall was rolling in and you never had a good personal storage of body heat. You thought that might’ve been something that triggered a tic attack besides the absence of your meds.

“I’ve-I’ve lived with-without my meds before, Lucien,” You tell him, eyes blinking slowly as you felt exhaustion seeping into your bones. “I’ll survive without th-them for a we–eeee-ek,” You finish in-between tics, giving him a tired smile, as if to tell him not to worry. 

“But that’s not fair, that’s not how it should be,” Lucien huffed, furrowing his dark eyebrows. 

“Y-you and be both agree on that, buddy,” you laugh. “B-but sadly, life ain’t that w-wahhh-aay.”

“What can I do to help?” he asked, still hovering over you, concerned. 

You still felt practically freezing, shaking not only from the tics, but from the lack of body heat

“I am freezing,” You start, rubbing your hands together. “-and you are like a stove, Dear Luci,” you continue. 

“Human cuddles then?” he inquired, ignoring the ‘Dear Luci’ comment. You nodded as he scooped you up into his big, hairy, muscly, red arms. He carried you to the living room couch, cuddling you against his chest. 

He sat down on the couch with you on top of him, cuddled into his warm chest. He threw a blanket over the two of you, placing your head in the crook of his neck. He kissed your forehead, smiling into your hair as you drifted off to a well deserved sleep.

(CC: God, I love cheesy breadsticks dipped in garlic sauce. My favorite Pizza order is that, but with extra cheese. . .lmao pizza FORGOTTEN)

Finn🌻:

Collapsing and minor tics (Severe Tourette’s)

“Welcome to Talk Floral! What can I help you with toda–oh it’s you Sunflower!” he exclaims, originally thinking it was any old customer who walked into the shop, before realizing it was you. “It’s–it’s good to see you! Do you need an arrangement?”

You shook your head. “No, I just wanted to see my favorite florist!” 

“I’m your favorite florist?” he repeated, baffled. “You know other florists–wait, I’m the only florist you know!”

“My favorite is the one I know,” You say, giggling. “He’s also my amazing boyfriend,” You teased. He laughed and grinned, blushing.

“So what’d you come fo–” Finn started to ask. 

That was when your hearing tuned out, your vision becoming blurry. You feel your legs shake as you hold onto the table at the front of the store. You hear a voice becoming eerily closer to you. A blob of yellow and green appeared in front of you just as your legs gave way, causing you to collapse in someone’s arms.

You feel yourself shaking, your vision unfocused. You felt your head being laid in someone’s lap. 

“-ey, hey! You okay Sunflower–oh sorry, clearly you're not okay–I’m so sorry for asking-” You heard your boyfriend, Finn say, running a hand through his hair. “What do you need? I can get you something? I can get some of the candy from the back–or I can just stay here, with you–” 

“I’m–eeeeee-I’m good Finney,” You start, in-between tics. “Love, it-it’s just a bad tic day. J-just a bad day, Finn. I-I’ll be fine–”

“You’re not fine!” he shouted, raising his voice and his shoulders. “Sorry for yelling, Sunflower,” he apologized. “I’m just worried for you, a-and for your wellbeing, be-because I care for you, because I love you.”

“I-I love you too, Finney,” You responded, smiling as your vision returned. “I guess, if-if it’s not a bother, *hic* could you get me some candy from the back–and th-then– *heee* hug me?” 

Finn smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss into your hair and standing up. “I’ll be right back, I promise,” he said, walking to the back and then back out with a bag of sour patch kids. 

“Here, have some,” he told you, propping your head up on his lap and putting a few watermelon sour patch kids in your mouth. You chewed them slowly and swallowed them, feeling a slight rush of energy to stave the growing exhaustion.

Once you did, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the back, gently placing you on the couch before snuggling in beside you and kissing your forehead. 

Your vision was slowly returning, as was your hearing while Finn cuddled you putting his head in the crook of your neck and smiling into the nape of your neck. 

“Love you,” You whispered to him, wrapping your shaking arms around his body. 

“I love you too, My Sunflower,” he told you admiringly, pressing one final kiss to your forehead before you two fell asleep in each others arms

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