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lvnleah · 3 days ago

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when three becomes four.

we have another baby Williamson! 🥹

find the series masterlist here!

July 2028 | 4 years old.

“Alright! A bowl of popcorn for you, bubba,” Leah smiled as she came into the living, two bowls of popcorn in her arms. “And a bowl for me and Mummy!”

“Thank you, Mumma!” Finley smiled and cuddled into your side as Leah handed him a bowl of popcorn.

You ran your hand over your swollen stomach that Finley was currently resting his head on, “Oh thank you, love! Baby girl is going to love this.”

“Anything for my loves,” Leah said, plopping down on the sofa on the other side of Finley. “What film should we watch, bubba?”

“Erm…” Finley began, scrunching his little face in concentration as he thought. “Toy Story 3!” he declared confidently, glancing up at you with his blue eyes.

You smiled softly, placing a hand on Finley’s curls. “That sounds perfect.”

Leah chuckled as she grabbed the remote. “Toy Story it is then. Great choice, bubba.” She leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head before turning her attention to the TV. The opening credits started rolling, and the familiar tune filled the room, bringing an instant sense of comfort.

Finley snuggled closer to your bump. You were currently 36 weeks pregnant and due in mid-August. You and Leah had decided to start IVF for baby number two right after Finley had turned three.

You still had embryos left over from when you had your transfer with Finley so the process was easier than last time. It was agreed you would carry the baby after a lot of thought. You were anxious about being pregnant again because of how bad your pregnancy with Finley was but you knew no two pregnancies were the same.

The first transfer was scheduled for early August and unfortunately, that transfer didn’t work. You and Leah were both heartbroken, convinced that it was going to work the first time like it did with Finley. After a lot of tears and days spent in bed, you agreed to try again in November.

The two-week wait came with a lot of anxiety. You were both anxious that it wasn’t going to work and that you’d have to try again which you didn’t want to do. Two weeks before Christmas you took your first test, it was a very strong positive after you had delayed taking the tests for a few days.

You and Leah couldn’t believe that it worked and were excited to become parents again. The first few months were filled with uncertainty and worry. The first few weeks were filled with morning sickness but nothing compared to how it was with Finley.

As the weeks passed, your pregnancy progressed smoothly, much to your relief. The regular check-ups and scans were reassuring, and the anticipation of welcoming your baby girl in mid-August grew stronger.

Finley’s excitement about becoming a big brother was always evident. He often talked about all the things he would do with his new sibling and made sure everyone knew that he was going to be a big brother. You both made sure to involve him in preparations for the baby, taking him to scans which he loved doing.

Finley wiggled a bit, getting more comfortable against your belly. “When baby comes, I’ll show her all my toys! Do you think she’ll like Buzz Lightyear? Or Woody?”

You exchanged a knowing glance with Leah, both of you trying not to get too emotional at his sweetness. “I think she’ll love whatever you show her, sweetheart. She’s going to be so lucky to have you as her big brother.”

Leah nodded in agreement. “You’re going to teach her all the best things, aren’t you buddy?”

Finley nodded excitedly, “Yeah! I teach her to be a little Gooner, just like I am!”

“That’s it, bubba!” Leah smiled, high-fiving him, “We aren’t gonna let Uncle Jacob turn her into a stinky spurs supporter are we?”

“No way!” Finley shook his head in disgust, “Gonner all the way.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You’ve got him brainwashed.”

Leah shrugged, “What can I say, he supports the best team in North London. He’s a clever boy.”

Finley’s hand instinctively rested on your belly again. You could feel your baby girl shifting slightly beneath his touch, a giggle escaping him as she kicked against his hand.

As the movie continued, Finley’s energy started to fade. His popcorn bowl sat half-eaten on his lap, and his eyelids drooped as he fought to stay awake. By the time the movie was halfway through, Finley was fast asleep, his head still resting on your bump.

Leah smiled, brushing a few stray curls from his forehead. “He’s so excited to be a big brother.”

You nodded, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. “He really is. I just hope the transition is smooth for him.”

Leah leaned over and placed a kiss on your temple. “He’ll be fine, he’ll be the best big brother ever. He loves his baby sister already.”

For a while, you both sat in the quiet comfort of the moment, the soft sounds of the movie playing in the background, and Finley’s steady breathing filling the space between you. It was one of those rare moments where everything felt perfectly still like time itself had paused to let you savour the simplicity of this life you had built together.

As the movie ended and the credits rolled, Leah carefully scooped Finley into her arms, cradling him against her chest. “I’ll put him to bed,” she whispered.

You nodded, watching her carry him down the hall, a smile tugging at your lips. When she came back she laid down beside your bump, now getting her own time with her baby girl.

“Hi baby peanut,” Leah smiled as she placed a kiss on your bump, “we’re so excited to meet you, Bubba. I think your brother is the most excited out of us all.”

You smiled, your hand playing with Leah’s hair, “He’s dying to meet her, I can’t believe he won’t be our only baby anymore.”

“It’ll feel weird having two kids after just having Finley for four years. It'll be fun,” Leah said, “Won’t it, baby peanut?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two weeks later, at 38 weeks pregnant, the day began as usual, though you had pains all morning. You had decided not to worry too much, thinking they were just Braxton Hicks, and so you proceeded with your plan for the day. After dropping Finley off at Amanda’s for the day, you headed out for a relaxing date day with Leah.

You both enjoyed a quiet brunch at your favourite café, soaking in the peaceful time together before the baby arrived. Leah had her hand on your belly most of the time, and now and then, the baby gave her a little kick in response, making you both smile.

You took a bite of your pastry, but suddenly paused, your hand instinctively moving to your belly as a contraction rolled through. You let out a slow breath, trying to play it off like it was nothing.

Leah immediately noticed. “Are you okay, pretty girl? That looked like more than just the usual Braxton Hicks.”

You smiled, trying to downplay the discomfort. “I’m fine. I’ve been having them on and off all morning. It’s nothing serious.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Hmm, I don’t know. They seem more frequent today. Are you sure it’s not early labour?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “We’ve still got a couple of weeks. It’s just my body getting ready.”

Leah smiled, rubbing small circles over your belly. “Well, tell baby girl to take it easy on you, yeah? We’re trying to enjoy our last date before she gets here.”

Just as you started to respond, another contraction hit, and this time it made you pause, gripping the edge of the table for a moment. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to stay calm.

Leah’s eyes widened, her concern growing. “Babe… that one looked pretty intense. Maybe we should head home, just to be safe. I don’t want to be sitting here when it actually starts.”

You shook your head again, but this time your tone was more serious. “It’s okay, Leah, really. They’re not that close together yet. Besides, we’ve been looking forward to this day all week. I don’t want to cut it short just because of a few contractions.”

Leah sighed, sitting back slightly but keeping her hand on your belly. “Alright, but I’m keeping an eye on you. You need to tell me if it gets worse. I’m serious.”

You smiled, reaching over to give her a kiss. “I promise. You’ll be the first to know.”

Leah smiled against your lips. “Good. Because I’m not letting you give birth in a café.”

You both laughed, the tension easing a little as the contraction faded. Leah leaned forward again, her hand still resting protectively on your belly. “But seriously, it’s crazy that we’re so close to meeting her. Any day now.”

You nodded, feeling a rush of emotion. “I know. I can’t believe it’s happening so soon. I feel like we were just doing this with Finley.”

Leah’s face softened. “Finley’s so excited.”

“He really is,” you agreed. “I can’t wait to see him as a big brother. He’s going to be amazing.”

Leah smiled, her eyes bright with excitement. “And you, pretty girl, are amazing too. You’re handling this so well, even with the contractions starting up. I mean, look at you, still eating your croissant like a champ.”

You laughed, taking another bite. “A girl’s gotta eat, right?”

Leah chuckled. “Just promise me that if they start getting more intense, we head home. I know you want to stay, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

You nodded, appreciating her concern. “I promise. If it gets too much, we’ll go. But for now, let’s just enjoy this time together.”

Leah smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Deal. Now, what do you want to do after this? Walk in the park? Or maybe head to that bookstore you love?”

“I like the sound of the park,” you said, your hand subconsciously rubbing your belly. “Fresh air might help with these contractions.”

Leah gave you a knowing smile, but didn’t push the matter further. “Alright, the park it is. Let’s make the most of this date while we still can.”

You had a walk around the park, stopping every so often because of your contractions before heading to pick Finley up.

“Le, can we stop for a moment,” you breathed as you walked down Amanda’s path, “Another…contraction.”

Leah instantly turned towards you, concern filling her eyes. “Of course, pretty girl. Here, lean on me.” She wrapped an arm around your waist, supporting you as you focused on breathing through the contraction.

The pain intensified for a moment, and you clenched your jaw, gripping her arm as you tilted your head back. Leah rubbed soothing circles on your back, murmuring softly, “You’re doing so good, love. Just breathe through it.”

After a few moments, the contraction subsided, and you let out a deep breath, standing a little straighter. “Okay. That one was a bit stronger,” you admitted, trying to smile through the discomfort.

Leah gave you a soft, worried look. “We might need to rethink this whole ‘it's just Braxton Hicks’ theory. These are getting stronger.”

Before you could respond, the front door of Amanda’s house opened, and there stood Amanda, Leah’s mum, a knowing smile on her face. She quickly scanned the scene—your hands resting on your belly, the way Leah was supporting you, and the tension still evident on your face.

“Amanda,” you said, trying to sound casual, “I think baby girl might be coming soon.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Might be? From the looks of it, darling, she’s not wasting any time.” She gave Leah a pointed glance. “You two need to head home or to the hospital, not my driveway.”

Leah nodded, looking more convinced by the second. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

Amanda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Finley will be fine with me, I have all of his stuff already. You need to head to the hospital.”

Another contraction started to build, and Leah gently helped you sit on the edge of the bench outside of Amanda’s. “I really think it’s time, love,” she said softly. “Let’s say bye to Finley, and we can call the midwife on the way there.”

You nodded, finally starting to accept that this might really be the beginning of labour. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s head to the hospital.”

A few minutes later, Amanda emerged with Finley. Finley ran up to you with his typical boundless energy.

“Is baby sister coming?” he asked, his big blue eyes filled with curiosity and excitement.

You smiled, reaching out to gently ruffle his hair. “It looks like she might be, Finn. You be good for Nana yeah?”

Finley nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I promise, Nana Finley sleepover!”

Leah chuckled, picking him up and balancing him on her hip. “We know you will, buddy. You’re going to be the best big brother.”

Amanda gave you a warm hug. “Call me if you need anything. Now go bring that baby into the world," Amanda smiled warmly. "Finley will be just fine here with me."

As you and Leah finally decided to make your way to the hospital, the excitement and anticipation started to settle in. Leah helped you into the car, buckling you in gently as you focused on breathing through another contraction. The ride was a blur of adrenaline and tenderness, Leah’s hand never leaving your thigh as she drove, calling the midwife to let her know what was happening.

“We’ll be there soon, pretty girl. Just keep breathing,” Leah reassured you, her voice calm despite the growing intensity of the moment.

The hospital was ready for your arrival, and as you were checked in, the midwife confirmed that you were in active labour. Your baby girl was on her way. Time seemed to pass in waves—some moments felt slow and agonising, while others moved too fast, but through it all, Leah never left your side.

You were six centimetres when you arrived and you took the epidural as soon as you could. You managed to nap for a bit and when you woke up again it was time for the midwife to check you again.

“You’ll be happy to know you’re at ten centimetres,” She smiled as she took off her gloves and threw them into the bin. “I’ll go get my colleagues and you can start pushing. Almost time to meet your baby girl!”

Leah squeezed your hand, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of nervousness. “Did you hear that, pretty girl? It’s time. We’re going to meet our girl soon.”

You nodded, a wave of emotion rushing over you. The months of anticipation, the moments of uncertainty, and now you were here, ready to bring your daughter into the world. The room buzzed with activity as the midwives prepared, but all you could focus on was Leah, her steady hand in yours, and the fact that you were going to meet your baby girl soon

The midwife returned, this time with more nurses and doctors, and they all smiled reassuringly. “Alright, darling, when the next contraction comes, we’ll start pushing. You’re doing great.”

You looked at Leah, taking a deep breath. “We’re ready for this, right?”

Leah kissed your forehead, “We are so ready. You’re going to do amazing, just like with Finley.”

As the contraction began, you bore down, gripping Leah’s hand tightly. Time seemed to blur again, each push bringing you closer to meeting your daughter. Leah’s encouragement never stopped, her voice a distraction from the pain and effort.

“You’re almost there,” the midwife said, her tone filled with excitement. “One more big push.”

With every ounce of strength left in you, you gave one final push, and then, the room was filled with the sound of your baby’s first cry. Tears welled in your eyes as the midwife lifted your daughter, placing her on your chest.

“She’s here,” Leah whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she leaned in to kiss you. “Our little girl.”

You looked down at the tiny, baby girl on your chest. She was much smaller than Finley was and had a large set of lungs on her from the sound of the cry that she produced. You couldn’t believe she was finally here.

“She’s perfect,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her soft head as Leah wrapped an arm around both of you. “I can’t believe it. She’s actually here.”

Leah looked down at your daughter, her eyes brimming with happy tears. “She’s more than perfect. You did it, pretty girl. You did it. Oh my gosh, she looks so much like Finley!”

The midwives busied themselves with cleaning up and checking on the baby, but for that moment, it was just the three of you, cocooned in a bubble of pure joy. Your family had grown, and soon, Finley would meet his baby sister, the little girl he’d been so excited to love and protect.

And just like that, your family was complete for now. Eloise had completed your family.

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The first night with baby Eloise, or Ellie as you’d nicknamed her, went smoothly. You both knew what to expect so you both found the night feeds fairly easy.

As the soft light of the morning sun filled the hospital room, you stirred to the sound of tiny cries from Ellie’s bassinet. Leah was still half-asleep beside you, but her eyes fluttered open at the same sound.

“Morning, love,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she sat up to check on Ellie. “Looks like someone’s hungry.”

You nodded, gently pulling yourself up and reaching for your baby girl. She was so tiny in your arms, her little face scrunched up as she made soft noises. Leah watched with a smile as you settled Ellie to feed her, her tiny hands clutching at your skin.

“She’s so beautiful,” Leah whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you settled into her side. “It still doesn’t feel real. We’re parents of two now.”

You laughed softly, “I know. I keep looking at her and just thinking, ‘she’s ours’ she actually belongs to us, Le.”

A knock at the door interrupted your moment, and a nurse stepped in with a warm smile. “Good morning, mamas. How are you feeling today? And how’s baby girl doing?”

“We’re good,” Leah replied, glancing down at you and Ellie. “She’s feeding really well, and so far, it’s been a smooth night.”

The nurse nodded approvingly. “That’s great to hear. We’ll do another check on her in a bit, but you both seem to be settling in wonderfully. Do you need anything right now? Some breakfast, maybe?”

You smiled. “Breakfast would be amazing, thank you.”

As the nurse left, Leah leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll text Mum and let her know she can bring Finley by in a couple of hours. He’s going to be over the moon when he meets Ellie.”

The thought of Finley meeting his baby sister made your heart race with excitement. He had been talking nonstop about his baby sister. You could already picture his wide eyes and the way he would gently touch her tiny hands, just like he did with your belly.

A couple of hours later, after you both had eaten and Ellie had been checked over by the doctors, the door to your room swung open, and in rushed Finley, his little feet pattering excitedly on the floor.

“Mummy! Mumma!” he called out, his eyes wide with anticipation as Amanda trailed behind him. “I missed ‘ou! Baby sissy here?”

Leah crouched down, holding her arms out to him. “She’s here, bubba! Do you want to meet your baby sister?”

Finley nodded eagerly, his curls bouncing as he ran to Leah, who lifted him up and carried him over to the bed where you and Ellie were waiting. His little face lit up the moment he saw her.

“She’s so tiny!” he whispered, his voice full of awe as he gazed at his new sister, who was bundled up and sleeping peacefully.

You smiled, holding Ellie close as Finley leaned in for a closer look. “This is your baby sister, Ellie,” you said softly. “You want to say hi?”

Finley reached out gently, his little hand brushing against Ellie’s tiny fist. “Hi, Ellie,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother, Finley!”

Leah grinned, her eyes misty with tears as she stood beside you. “She’s so lucky to have you, bubba.”

Finley looked up at you both, “I love her! She’s so cute and tiny!”

”Oh she’s absolutely gorgeous,” Amanda whispered, “Doesn’t she look Finley?”

“She does,” Leah smiled, “Do you want to know her full name?” Leah asked, getting a nod from Amanda, “Her name is Eloise Amanda Williamson but we’re calling her Ellie for short.”

Amanda's eyes welled with tears as she heard her name, a soft gasp escaping her lips. "Eloise Amanda… that’s such a beautiful name. I’m honoured."

Leah gave her a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her. "We wanted to honour you, Mum. You’ve been there for us every step of the way."

Finley continued to look down at his baby sister, mesmerised by her every little movement. "Can I hold her, Mummy?" he asked.

You smiled, glancing at Leah, who nodded. "Of course you can, Fin. Let’s get you set up," Leah said softly, guiding him to sit beside you on the bed. She gently helped him cradle Ellie in his arms, her tiny head resting against his chest.

Finley’s face lit up with a smile as he held his little sister, his small hands carefully supporting her. "She’s so little, Mummy," he whispered.

You smiled, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them together. "She is, but she’ll grow big and strong just like you!”

Leah sat beside you, her hand resting on your thigh, her gaze never leaving Finley and Ellie. "We’ve got our two little loves, right here," she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion.

And with that, the next chapter of your life as a family of four officially began.

#lvnleah #leah williamson #the williamson’s #finley williamson #ellie williamson

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callmecreative · 16 hours ago

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IT'S THANKSGIVING!!

Very grateful for all of my mutuals!! Unfortunately, I have so many now I'm just going to list the ones that consistently show up! <3 I love all of you though.

@sleepyy-27 HOLY MOLY. I post and then my activity immediately gets one. If I don't blink I can watch it change to like 8. YOU ARE AMAZINGLY SUPPORTIVE and you have gotten me through some rough writing block by sharing and imploding people's For You page. THANK YOU!

@readingismyhobby24 You're so kind. How do you do it. You almost never complain and you're holding some of us together. You're a very hard worker and excellent writer!! Keep it up friend!! Always thankful for you <3

@hyruledwarriorr SO. MUCH. TALENT. You're always willing to share even when you're not feeling well or confident about it and I could never. You're strong and I appreciate everything you do!!

@serysem YOU SILLY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You're always there for everyone, even when you don't feel so great yourself. Your words are touching and you're a very talented artist!

@nezzpezz Going against the tide (in other words the Legend haters) and creating GORGEOUS art, even when you don't feel like it. You're a beautiful person and whoever hurts you should stub their toe so bad is breaks repeatedly.

@sieglindegrimm HOW ARE YOU ALIVE? I'm sorry but you have some INSANE lore. Nonetheless, you make the most out of everything and have a SHINING sense of humor. You never fail to make my day!!

@jayvgc You ruined our fun on discord/j. You have a fabulous sense of humor, including the ability to laugh at yourself, which a lot of us sorely lack. KEEP IT UP <3

@snowymountain You reached out!! Good for you! You are always very supportive and kind! Happy Thanksgiving cousin!!

@theecholegend FAIRY ASK BOXXXXX I want to bombard your ask box more often. I don't know why I don't T-T. I love all of your opinions on Legend and I treasure all of your art!! I hope to be better about asking you questions because you are a part of the Chaos Cousins!!

@individualperson8756 WELL WELL WELL. I'm just kidding. Love ya sis! You'll probably get a man before me :3

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gramophoneturtle · 2 years ago

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I posted 90 times in 2022

71 posts created (79%)

19 posts reblogged (21%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gramophoneturtle

I tagged 90 of my posts in 2022

#twewy - 70 posts

#ntwewy - 48 posts

#neo the world ends with you - 40 posts

#the world ends with you - 36 posts

#twewy spoilers - 35 posts

#ntwewy spoilers - 25 posts

#neo twewy - 25 posts

#yoshiya joshua kiryu - 24 posts

#neo the world ends with you spoilers - 22 posts

#neo twewy spoilers - 21 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#if people are interested in like a master list of accessories i can make it but for now it can be a test of recognizing the items :]

My Top Posts in 2022:

See the full post

95 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

Shibuya Fish Tank

It's unfinished so the title may not be clear, but imagine an animated version with the water rippling in the sky, the Composer's attention being drawn away as if someone is calling him, and then vanishing, the ripples fading. All the while Shibuya's people moving about, living their lives.

106 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

Happy Birthday Rhyme!!

113 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

Announcing the Mewse Designer!

Ever wanted to accessorize your own Mr. Mew? Modify the design just a bit?

Now you can with the Mewse Designer on meiker.io to make your very own!

The Mewse Designer contains accessories from almost all main named characters in both TWEWY and NTWEWY, so it has accessories that can be considered spoilers. Item names aren't visible so it's only the images. There are a couple accessories that aren't from the games so don't worry if you don't recognize them all.

More additions will come in the future! The current release focuses on neck, face and arm accessories. Further explanation about Meiker below for those who aren't familiar with it.

If you are on mobile it's easier to navigate in landscape but easier to modify the item position/colors (if available) in portrait.

Some items have color options. A paint brush icon will appear on the left side when an item has them, such as Kariya's glasses. Click the icon to pick a different color option.

Some items can have their position adjusted. A 4 directional arrow will appear on the left hand side, such as most glasses, eyes, mouth and arm accessories. Click on it to activate it and then tap the directional arrows in the bottom left corner to move it.

Some items are "Stamps" which are layered overtop of all other layers in the order you add them. They are a category that has a paw print in the top left corner such as the speech bubbles and pins. They can be flipped (top left, bi-directional arrow), rotated (top of the stamp), and resized (bottom right of the stamp). They can be removed by clicking on the trash can in the bottom right.

124 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

126 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

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intotheelliwoods · 2 years ago

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This post is a @wraenata appreciation post. Comment or reblog if you appreciate Wren and love seeing her in your tumblr feed. Right now.

#for real though wren #your tags are the best thing ever #and an absolute gift to this whole community <3 #we love you <3 #thanks for showing so much support to everyone!#rottmnt #nonsense #every struggling artist/writer are being held up by your tags #bet #you give everyone so much confidence

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brighteststar707 · 2 years ago

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I posted 3,707 times in 2022

That's 3,192 more posts than 2021!

202 posts created (5%)

3,505 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@marshmallowprotection

@natasha-in-space

@aftergiow

@shittylongcatposts

I tagged 2,294 of my posts in 2022

Only 38% of my posts had no tags

#queue - 98 posts

#self reblog - 87 posts

#mystic messenger - 84 posts

#faye talks - 38 posts

#my writing - 33 posts

#<3 - 30 posts

#ask - 30 posts

#this is adorable - 27 posts

#red universe - 26 posts

#ahahahah - 25 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#suit depends on intimidation to keep his assistant under control but when he can no longer physically intimidate you the dynamic drastically

My Top Posts in 2022:

How many times do you think the agency urged Seven to dye his hair, because it’s a liability to be so recognizable?

And how many times do you think he refused, because after giving up his name and his past life, his appearance is the only thing left connecting him to his brother?

114 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

*Nobody was surprised by that*

117 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

Just thinking about Jaehee Kang looking at old pictures and not being able to recognize herself. She ruefully runs her hand through her hair and tries not to linger on the unpleasant thought that she has lost herself somewhere along the way.

Thinking about her bonding with the newest RFA member, despite being so hesitant at the beginning. You understand her in a way that nobody has before, and she can’t help but confide in you, especially as things at work start to get hard and her doubts become harder to ignore.

Full post

124 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

Hi! Can I request,,,Jumin + Kissing in between saying "I love you"...? Thank you!

Hi anon! Here it is <3

Jumin - Kissing in between saying "I love you"

Usually, Jumin was the one to tease you about being a whirlwind around the penthouse. You had a tendency to jump from one activity to another without pause. However, for the past few days, his usual composed movements had become more erratic. He would spring up from his seat to go double-check paperwork and plans, moving through your home like he couldn’t get anywhere fast enough. A last-minute business trip had come up unexpectedly, an opportunity that he couldn’t miss, and for the first time since marrying you, he couldn’t bring you with him.

Full post

125 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Seven’s camera roll is full of pictures of the RFA, especially from parties when everyone’s all dressed up. He knows he’ll have to delete them one day, but for now, they bring him joy. He has lots of sneak shots of Vanderwood that he took when they weren’t looking that he uses to tease them, and lots of pictures of Zen that he saved for the twitter bot.

He has memes saved that he wants to send to Yoosung and a lot more cat photos that he sends to Jumin. Every picture of Elizabeth that has ever been sent in the chatroom (and then some that haven’t) are all saved for him to fawn over.

Full post

225 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #thank you to everyone who showed support to my writing <3

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junniieesbby · 1 year ago

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SMILES YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND YOU KNOW THAT 🤩🫶🏼

trapped in your game | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader | genre: oneshot; fluff, smut. best friends to ?? | wc: warnings: hair tugging, a lot of praises, pet names (, baby, princess, sweetheart, cutie), bsf!yeonjun's just so sweet :(( , physical affection, oral (m receiving), yj a lil rough with it, cum swallowing, smut with plot, not proof read, lmk if I've missed any. | a/n: so I wanna thank @junniieesbby for elongating this idea with me hehe, testing waters out since it's been a while but enjoy <3 this is my comeback guys >:) it's also 5am, so I'm sorry HAHAHA

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

continue under the cut ❤︎

no matter how many times you turn around and rant to your best friend, yeonjun, he's there laying on your bed with his upper body hanging off of the edge and his phone in his hands.

“yeonjun…” you whine, pouting as you ask him, “were you even listening?” you exaggerate a deep huff of disappointment and that catches his attention.

rushing to turn his phone off and throwing it somewhere on your bed amongst your plushies, he lays on his front and reaches his arm out to caress the top of your head.

“okay, okay. I’m listening, what were you saying?” he tilts his head slightly and he mirrors your pout.

“I was saying, I think I’m linking up with this guy next week but I don’t… um...” you trail off, lightly chewing on your bottom lip thinking if you sound dumb worrying about this.

“but you don’t what? you know you can tell me, right?” he’s still caressing the top of your head ever so gently. yeonjun tends to have that aura about him. and it’s been like that for years. it’s not that you were embarrassed to tell him, he never belittles you about these things, or anything in general, but you also didn’t want him to think you were being silly about this.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough at giving head, jjun.” your light whine switched him up in some way.

you always wondered if he’s ever thought of you like that, and the answer is yes. but he knows his priorities as your best friend is that he’s always there for you no matter what. helping you in whatever it is. even when it comes to this.

“but you’ve given head before though?” he sits up, his feet now flat on the ground by your knees. you nod subtly, watching the way the little bulb lights up above his head.

“hmm..” he exaggerates a thinking face, bottom lip protruding before the corners of his lips turn upwards. “show me what you’ve got.”

you know how to kiss. that’s because yeonjun taught you. you know how to turn guys on. that’s because yeonjun taught you. but you’ve managed to give head and have your previous partners and flings come from that, and yeonjun hadn’t taught you. what if he teaches you now? will that make you better at doing it?

“yn? sweetheart, what’s going on in that cute 'lil head of yours?” he leans forward to grab ahold of your hand, which surprisingly lays limp in his palms. “I’ll talk you through it if you want.”

“I can try-“

he shakes his head, cupping the side of your face and his thumb stroking your cheek and slowly lowering to glide across your bottom lip. “Give me your all, c’mon.”

“thanks jjun.” you shoot up an innocent smile, the one that makes his knees weak even when he's sitting down.

you shuffle onto your knees, situating yourself between yeonjun's thighs while your fingers began to skim over the material of his sweatpants. yeonjun, on the other hand, was anticipating the act, leaning back on his elbows to observing you from that angle. he knows how good you are and how good you can be, of course he does because he's taught you these things.

as you watch your best friend look back at you with his sultry eyes, you catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip as your fingers trail closer towards his half hard dick.

"oh, so this is how you tease your flings huh?" his voice was lower than usual, but nothing you've never heard before.

"just find it a little fun when they squirm. you're good at not doing that though jjunie." you finally apply pressure onto his growing dick, stroking him through his sweats and picking up the pace until you see him fighting to throw his head back, but resorting to heavy, shaky breaths.

a hum leaves your mouth when you see yeonjun get harder under your touch, but it doesn't take much longer until you're hooking your fingers under the band of both his sweats and boxers.

your chest heaves a little, it's not the first time you've seen yeonjun's dick, the last time being when you caught him masturbating in his room with his door unlocked and he was wearing headphones. but he had a pretty dick for sure. his girth was a good size, the length wasn't too intimidating but deep inside you were excited. the head had already started to leak clear droplets, veins just beginning to raise to the surface as you wrap your soft hand around his shaft by the base.

he hisses from the pressure you apply, letting out his sigh that he had been holding in for a hot second. you're in awe, never had you touched yeonjun like this before, but to see him react this way just from your simple touches were starting to affect the dampness between your thighs.

"yeonjun, you know, you have a pretty dick." you tell him sweetly.

"thank you kitten— oh my god." he doesn't hold back the small moan in his throat after you had just licked him from the base to the tip with your lips lighting sucking on the head, letting the salty droplets spread across your tongue.

you smile at him once again, observing the way his mouth slacks open and how his pretty, pillowy lips are the same colour as his soft tip. that's something you'll unintentionally engrave in your brain for every time you glance at his lips.

"so.. so.. pretty.." you kiss around his shaft randomly betwen your words, and he responds with his hand in your hair, and lightly tugging it.

"get to it cutie, I wanna know how good you are." he loosens his grip, letting you take more of him into your mouth until he's almost prodding the back of your throat and pulling him out again.

a guttural groan leaves his throat as you repeat the same action a couple more times before you gag from how far in you're taking him. you're usually pretty good at not gagging, even using the squeezing-your-thumb-extremely-tight trick to prevent that, but it still happened.

"hey, hey." yeonjun sat up in urgency, but mentally kicking himself for twitching from the fact tears started to well up. "I'm sure you wanna do good for him, right? now breathe through your nose, your throat's gonna be occupied."

you nod, really listening to his words and you do exactly what he tells you. taking in a couple of deep and steady breaths you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing your head and inching further until he hits the back of your throat without you gagging.

"oh shit," he gasps, "just like that, princess, just like that."

both of his hands make their way to your hair, gathering them as best as he could into a makeshift ponytail. the suction you have going on was starting to make him feel light headed, twitching in your hold. he couldn't refrain, but you were doing too good. with your hair now in a tight ponytail in one fist, he pushes your head down more until he hears you gag.

an airy chuckle leaves his lips as he moans out your name and other profanities, boosting your ego to keep going. you know he's close when you watch his lower abdomen starting to twitch from under his black hoodie.

"keep going baby, I'm so close. god, you're so good." his heaven sent whines were shooting straight to your core, and you just knew your panties were soaked through from the discomfort against your core.

you let out a strong hum whilst continuing to bob your head, moving your wrist to push him over the edge. your other hand caresses his thigh while his hand is wrapped around your wrist. tight. a few more delicious moans leave your best friends mouth, throwing his head back as he bucks his hips up, close to chasing his high.

"yn, ugh, baby I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." his hold around your wrist tightens as the band in his stomach snaps, feeling the way his cock twitches against your tongue.

you suck on his tip, swirling your wet muscle around it a few times until you taste his cum on your tongue. you let out a surprised moan from the way his load was shooting into your mouth, some even beginning to trickle down the back of your throat.

"ah shit, yn." he chuckles with a hand lazily covering his face. "you're so hot, what the fuck."

you giggle as you lean back on your knees, looking up at him and opening your mouth to show him his load under and around your tongue.

"filthy too, good god." he collects the cum threatening to drip from the corners of your lips as he waits for you to swallow it all and lick the rest from his thumb.

"so was that alright?" you lean your arms across his knees and rest your chin on the back of your hands.

"alright? you did so good baby." he caresses your head again, noticing the way you're refraining from smiling so hard.

"jjun?" you ask, almost a whisper. your fingers tracing invisible shapes across his thighs. he responds with a light hum. "I kind of don't want to see that guy anymore."

"what are you saying?" yeonjun raises an intriguing brow.

"I kinda just want you." there it is again, that precious smile that yeonjun loves to see.

again, he reaches out for you and leads you onto his lap, hovering you over his spent dick. your hands rest on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as he brings his middle and ring finger to stroke up against your clothed slit and rubbing light circles on your clit.

"well, I'm all yours."

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi and bc I thought you guys would like this hehe @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed @kookthief @choistick @baljinciaga @hanniejie

#OMGG THIS TURNED OUT SO GOOD HOLY SHIT #IM IN LOVE #I actually read this like 3 times just now because of how good it was #the way I need a best friend Yeonjun so bad like rn please #I’m all yours ahhhhhhhhhhh that sentence alone does things to me #SMILES MADE HER COMEBACK EVERYONE CHECK IT OUT RN #awww baby no need to thank me at all your the mastermind behind this! it’s your talented beautiful creative mind who wrote it #everyone (except for minors) SERIOUSLY CHECK IT! make sure you show my girl lots of love and support she’s been working on this until 5 am #I think imma read a few more times wow #mdni #yeonjun smut #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fic recs #smiles♡︎#boba beom 🫶🏼

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mxactivist · 1 year ago

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Support the BBC for having a trans character in recent episodes of 'Doctor Who'

Apparently the BBC (UK) has had 144 complaints about a recent episode of Doctor Who because it contained an openly trans character.

I've made a complaint to the BBC that there weren't enough transgender characters in Doctor Who. I would love if 144 other people did the same thing. Here's the link: https://www.bbc.co.uk/contact/complaints/make-a-complaint/#/Complaint

(For your easy reference: "The Star Beast" aired on 25/11/2023 on BBC One, and the trans character is called Rose.)

Please note that the complaint form asks for your UK postcode, so only UK folks can join in with this - but if you suspect you might have any UK-based followers, maybe give us a reblog to boost the signal?

Edit: I'm told that you can fill in the form even if you're outside of the UK, because the BBC provide service to many countries other than the UK, including the USA! Go for it. :D

Reply to confirm that you've done it, so I can keep a count!

Here's my complaint:

I recommend:

Avoid sarcasm or irony. Assume your post will be taken literally. If you are clearly joking or being mean you will be ignored or misunderstood.

Include some gratitude/appreciation. It's pretty great that they included a trans woman in a positive way, and they should know that they have explicit support for that.

Edit again: I'm seeing some concerns in the replies/reblogs that the BBC might not distinguish between "less trans people, please" complaints and "more trans people, please" complaints. Rest assured, this is nothing to worry about - the BBC publish fortnightly complaint reports, and they do pay enough attention to know when a complaint is in favour of or against trans inclusion. In fact, their 20 November – 3 December 2023 report is where the various news articles are getting the 144 complaints figure; that report says there were precisely 144 complaints that they have categorised as "Anti-male / inappropriate inclusion of transgender character".

That means the next complaints fortnight window is 4 December - 17 December. We have 8 more days to beat 144. By my count, over Tumblr, WhatsApp, the Fediverse and Telegram, we have 85 so far, which is well over halfway there.

Also, when you've done it, please reply to confirm you have done it, so that I can count us!

Thank you, everyone!

Edit, 2023-12-11, 1am UK time:

We did it! I've just been counting up responses, and it looks like sometime yesterday evening we hit 144 complaints/comments in favour of Rose Noble and more excellent trans characters in Doctor Who! (We're actually up to 157 now, fantastic.)

So, my next plan is to submit a Freedom of Information Act request to the BBC sometime in the next few days, asking for complaints and compliments figures. Then I'd ideally (energy and time permitting) like to put together a press release that I can send out to the publications that promoted the tiny "144 anti-trans complaints" figure, showing them that there has been far more feedback in favour of trans representation than against.

I'll keep you posted.

#armchair activism #projects #trans #BBC #Doctor Who

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falesten-iw · 3 months ago

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To Those Who Still Hold Onto a Shred of Morality and Humanity - Stand with Us and Don’t Forget Us.

Over 40,000 lives have been lost, with 70% of them being children and women. Among these numbers are my own family members—many of whom I’ve already lost.

My family, my cousin, aunt, their children, and grandchildren were all directly targeted by Israeli airstrikes. I’m sharing a video of my aunt and cousin to reveal the harsh reality we are facing in Gaza. In this video, my aunt bravely shares her story about how the Israeli army airstruck them along with their children and grandchildren. Even if you don’t understand Arabic, just watching her speak will help you grasp the immense suffering we are enduring in Gaza. You can see the vedeo in this post.

The few family members who remain are in grave danger, and I’m terrified of losing them too. We have a chance to make a real difference and give my 24 surviving family members a chance to live.

In Gaza, jobs are non-existent, and nonprofit organizations like the UN have drastically reduced their work on the ground. Basic necessities such as milk, food, and medicine are almost as expensive as gold. My family is struggling to afford even the essentials, and my mother urgently needs medication that we simply cannot afford.

I’m also sharing another video that shows the daily struggle people face just to get clean water. The suffering here extends far beyond my family; it’s a genocide affecting every aspect of life in Gaza.

Thanks to the generosity of those who have already donated, we’ve raised $535 toward our goal of $190,363- august 17th. I’m deeply grateful to each of you, but we still have a long way to go, and I need your help more than ever. Imagine if it were your family—how would you feel if they were in this situation?

For those who have created special posts or reblogged to amplify my voice, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means everything to me and to my family. If you haven’t yet shared our story, please take just one minute to do so. Your voice could be the lifeline my family desperately needs.

You cannot continue to treat human lives as mere numbers. This is a genocide that demands immediate action. How many more should be killed before you all wake up? Will 40,000 lives be enough to stir us to action? 50,000? 100,000? 150,000?

Asking for donations and charity is something we never imagined having to do in Gaza before the war, and it’s heartbreaking that it has come to this. But if everyone who saw my last post donated just $10 or $20, we could reach our goal in no time. If you’re looking for a way to contribute, consider giving up your coffee, tea, or other “cup” for one day, one week, one month, or anything in between. Then, donate what you would have spent to help me. Please help us and donate now!

This is about more than just donations—it’s about preserving human lives and upholding our shared moral values. Your contribution can make a world of difference in our survival and ensure I don’t lose more of the people I love.

Demanding an end to this suffering is a matter of basic humanity. You cannot remain neutral in the face of such genocide. Please, let’s stand together. Enough is enough.

Every donation, no matter how small, brings us closer to hope and healing. Thank you again for your kindness and support. I will never forget it.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed even as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

Important note: ** 105 Swedish kr is just 10$ ** 1050 Swedish kr is just 100$ ** 10500 Swedish kr is just 1000$

Please share !

@humansofnewyork@intersectional-feminist @intersectional-feminists@intersectional-feminism @intersectional-feminist-killjoy

@thepeoplesrecord@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy

@theblogofawesome@fightforhumanity-rpg-blog @fightforhumanity-rp@queerandpresentdanger @progressive-pride

@radicalsocialworker @activistminds @mybelovedworld @hopeandresist @solidarityisimportant-blog

@solidarityissbliss @solidarityisnotaslogan-blog-blog @unified-multiversal-theory @feministacansada

@feministactionsupportnetwork @globalvoices @save-the-world-but-lose-her @save-the-world-one-day-at-a-time

@save-the-world-tonight @wip-wednesday @daily-writing-prompts @allthingswordy @writerscorner-blog

@fictionfood @wordsthat-speak @writerscunts-blog @storyshots-blog @wordsnstories-blog

@writeblr @thewritingcaddy @fictionwriting2 @inkstay @creativepromptsforwriting @interact-if

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kekeyw · 6 months ago

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kekeyw billboard overrides.

hi everyone! i present to you the long awaited billboard overrides that i've made! this is a thank you gift for 1k followers on tumblr but we've now hit 2k in that span of time!

this mod features luxurious brands and some home ones like ikea and kmart, so that your sims are living that boujie life ;)

i may make some del sol valley ones featuring popular shows and movies in the future...

how to install the mod. 1. download the files 2. if they're in a zip folder, extract then place into your mods folder 3. open your game and check them out!

base game billboard override - no packs required (only has 4 billboard designs) san myshuno billboard override - city living required

thank you so much to the fellow content creators who joined in on this project! make sure you give them your support because they're amazing creators <3

i hope you guys enjoy these overrides! if you use these be sure to tag me!

additional thank you to rensims for the tutorial!

download on my patreon here creators: @jaxplaysthesims @biancml @chsims @bbygyal123 @marrijaa @adorsims @glowytrait @rensimss @princesssimsxo @maplewhims @diawhims @tayedasimmer

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims 4 maxis match #ts4 #ts4 simblr #the sims community #cc #kekeyw cc #sims 4 mods #ts4 mod #ts4 cc #ts4cc #billboard #sims 4 city living #sims 4 overrides #sims 4 screenshots

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girlwithrituals · 2 months ago

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101 ways to improve self esteem

1) Master a new skill.

2) List your accomplishments.

3) Do something creative.

4) Challenge your limiting beliefs.

5) Talk to a counselor.

6) Don't worry about what others think.

7) Read or watch something inspirational.

8) Stay true to your character.

9) Let go of negative people.

10) Set healthy boundaries with others.

11) Care about your appearance.

12) Welcome failure as part of growth.

13) Be a lifelong learner.

14) Face your fears.

15) Become a mentor.

16) Accept compliments.

17) Eliminate self-criticism.

18) Practice coping skills to manage stress and big emotions.

19) Notice negative thoughts and beliefs.

20) Challenge negative thinking.

21) Think about what you learned from negative experiences.

22) Practice gratitude.

23) Exercise.

24) Eat healthy and limit junk food.

25) Get good sleep.

26) Spend time with positive and supportive people.

27) Encourage yourself.

28) Write a list of your strengths.

29) Don't compare yourself to others.

30) Avoid perfectionism.

31) Do at least one positive, enjoyable activity every day.

32) Celebrate small victories.

33) Be helpful and considerate to others.

34) Be honest with yourself and others.

35) Accept your flaws.

36) Don't give up.

37) Practice self-care.

38) Go easy on yourself.

39) Practice being assertive.

40) Practice saying "No".

41) Practice relaxation techniques.

42) Take on challenges.

43) Volunteer to help others.

44) Forgive others and yourself.

45) Set goals and work toward them step by step.

46) Seek balance in all areas of your life.

47) Discover your passions and purpose

48) Groom yourself.

49) Dress nicely.

50) Be kind and generous to others.

51) Practice good posture.

52) Change a small habit.

53) Smile.

54) Don't procrastinate.

55) Don't take things personal.

56) Organize your personal space.

57) Challenge unkind thoughts about yourself.

58) Spend time outside.

59) Notice the good things.

60) Celebrate your successes

61) Write a list of things you like about yourself.

62) Don't take too much on.

63) Do something for yourself every day.

64) Develop daily habits.

65) Remind yourself it's okay if not everyone likes you.

66) Practice mindfulness.

67) Learn to tolerate discomfort.

68) Use problem-solving skills.

69) Take responsibility instead of blaming.

Tell Yourself Positive Affirmations Such As:

70) I am grateful for every day.

71) I am worthy of happiness and love.

72) I am in charge of my own happiness.

73) I love, respect, and believe in myself.

74) I deserve to be happy and successful.

75) I approve of myself, right here and now.

76) I am learning and changing for the better.

77) I accept 100% responsibility for my own life.

78) Every day in every way, I am getting better and better.

79) I can learn to accept the parts of myself that I don't like.

80) I am thankful for my challenges as they make me a stronger person.

81) Write down three positives about each day.

82) Make a collage with your talents, goals, and dreams.

83) Practice laughing.

84) Be proud of yourself.

85) Say mistakes are an opportunity to learn.

86) Show respect to yourself and others.

87) Resolve conflict peacefully.

88) Ask for help or support.

89) Complete a daily task list.

90) Have a growth mindset.

91) Be optimistic.

92) Treat yourself with kindness and compassion.

93) Focus on the things you have control over and can change.

94) Get started on tasks you have been putting off.

95) Practice good daily hygiene.

96) Focus on solutions not problems.

97) Talk about your feelings with someone you trust.

98) Drink plenty of water.

99) Start a new hobby or join a club/sport.

100) Do random acts of kindness.

101) Create a dreams list.

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sharkylass · 1 month ago

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ALRIGHT, I ASKED FOREVER AGO, BUT WHO WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT MY ISA LOOPS AU??

Heads up this contains a lot, and I mean A LOT of spoilers for In Stars And Time. Including: = Act 6 spoilers, including main mystery and secret encounter = Minimal Act 5 stuff = And a bunch of extra stuff that happens through Act 3 and 4. SO BASICALLY ALMOST EVERYTHING, FINISH THIS GAME COMPLETELY BEFORE READING (ESPECIALLY THAT ACT 6 ENCOUNTER, IT WILL LITERALLY BE THE FIRST THING I MENTION UNDER THE CUT)

With all those warnings out of the way-

IN REPETITION AND CHANGE

Initial Concepts:

I feel it's important to show these sketches because they were the first ideas I ever had. I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted to make an AU at this point, I didn't even know how I'd approach it. But I started sketching and it's been on my mind since- SO! Isa is stuck in the timeloop. I know what his wish is and he DOES have a Loop equivalent! The grumpy dandelion guy is Roboro (it/they/he). Their name is a very small play on Ouroboros and they call Isa "Seedling". However, this post is not about them, as I'm gonna talk about it and Isa's dynamic in a separate post. In short, Isa is his normal loud self up until Act 3, right? They beat the King, they reach the end, and whoops, the loop isn't broken. So now, what happens is that Isa starts getting his brains out. He starts thinking more analytically and tries to problem solve.

The more stuck he gets in his head, the less he's able to perceive his friends as real people, and more like them holding him back. Because even if Isa explains that he's smart, that they shouldn't be surprised if he says something, shock of all shocks, reasonable- They'll forget it the next loop.

So Isa is stuck with trying to portray his confident, loud, supportive facade- Which is fine! It wouldn't be the first time! But it progressively gets more and more frustrating, as he tries to find answers and simply looses the energy to pretend to be stupid.

TL;DR: Isa in the timeloop, unlike Siffrin, becomes more distant and cold rather then something more akin to Sif's mania.

NOW, MORE ART!!!

KILL KILL KILL:

I imagine Isa didn't have this encounter the same way that Sif did. Yeah, frankly, Isa is pissed with the sadness- But that's not why he goes through with this.

In this moment, Isa is trying to kill two birds with one stone. He's trying to get through this quickly, as well as reassure Mira that they can do this! If he shows how strong he is, then she'll feel safe right???

Poor Isabeau forgot that whenever he shows that he thinks ahead, he scares people. How could he forget that? How could he forget that he's inherently---

Family Quest:

I still think Odile is the one to call out to him (same with sus quest).

The hangouts I'm still figuring out, cause I don't think they'd too similar to base game- But, fun fact, at the end of this run, everyone agrees to keep travel together!

Isabeau brings it up, can't hurt if you can fix your mistakes right? And everyone agrees. The relief on Siffrin is the most palpable thing Isabeau has ever seen.

In this moment they love you. In this moment they all love you. In this moment---

Death Screen:

He loops back anyways. (This is one of the initial concepts that I ended up animating. This line in particular is when he reaches the end)

Act 5 Tarot Card:

NOW TO SEE MORE OF HIS PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SIDE

Thanks to @the-bitter-ocean for prescribing tarot cards to Isa (THEY ALL FUCK SO HARD) and for the RAW ASS LINE

If interacted with in act 5, predictably, Isa tears it apart. He doesn't need the divine judgement upon him, he's faced everyone's perception his entire life.

However, he tears it methodically. Tears it once in even pieces, twice, three times, and one of the pieces once more. In a way he isn't even getting his emotions out, it's like he's actively trying to tear it apart so it stops nagging him, like he wants to shut it up. Though, the Judgement card symbolizes rebirth, absolution and inner calling. In Act 6 he'd be able to look at it and find comfort and confidence in the card.

Act 5 Mirror:

And lastly, I have the Act 5 mirror picture. I haven't quite figured out how to make the normal ones work yet, however, I couldn't let go of the idea that Isa would not want to be in the picture.

The idea of seeing himself at all makes his head hurt and his stomach squeeze. The memory haunts him as he stands to the side and says the word. He didn't think the mirror would catch him.

AAAAND THAT'S ALL THE ART STUFF FOR NOW!!

I still have quite a bit of it to post, especially about Roboro, but I'm gonna leave it here for now.

I still gotta figure out the hangouts and potentially the dagger equivalent- but I have ideas for Bad Touch, the glass equivalent, and some extra little things that didn't happen in Siffrin's loops.

I needed to yap about this, because I've been slowly stacking up ideas and writing and I needed to share it at some point- If anyone read all this and has questions and stuff I fully welcome 'em!!

#in repetition and change #irac #in stars and time au #isat au #isat isa #in stars and time isabeau #irac isa #irac roboro #the title used to be the other way around so it was icar but the long version didn't feel right but now the short one is off #I can't win in these conditions/j #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #HOW DID I FORGET THE SPOILER TAG HOLY FUCK

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 8 days ago

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Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 3)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: fluff, smut this is the last part so I hope you enjoy it!!

part 2

It would be an understatement to say that Charles was over the moon when you and Louise showed up in the paddock on the race day. He was so delighted and happy that he had a hard time hiding it, and everyone present could see it.

He didn't separate from Lou, and he thanked you several times for bringing her and for coming with her telling you how much that meant to him.

Of course, you both attracted the attention of all the media, knowing that tomorrow the main news on the internet will be how Charles' ex-girlfriend appeared with his daughter in the paddock for the first time after a full year since the breakup.

The cameras were everywhere, but having learned from previous experiences, you decided to ignore them and pretend they didn't exist. All you were focused on was giving your daughter an unforgettable weekend and supporting Charles as well.

Lou got hungry so you and Charles decided to get her something to eat at the Ferrari hospitality. Lou didn't know what she wanted to eat, so Charles decided to leave his things at your table, including his phone, and said he would go with her to the restaurant to choose. While Lou went with Charles, you sat down at the table and scrolled through your phone waiting for them to come back.

“Am I seeing things or is it really y/n?” A very familiar voice asked you, making you look up from your phone.

“Carlos!” You smiled from ear to ear as you stand up to hug him.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen you in the paddock. How come you’re here?” He asks curiously.

“Lou had a hard time accepting that she wouldn't be spending this weekend with her dad, so...yeah, here we are.”

“Oh man, he’s gonna beat my ass on the track today..” Carlos says shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You laugh a little unsure of what he’s talking about.

“He always gives 110% on the track when Lou is there to support him, I can only imagine what it’ll be like today when you are there too.”

The two of you started catching up talking about what was new in your lives, what wasn't, and so on, until Carlos commented on Charles and Lou's relationship, saying that he really loves spending time with her and that he talks about her nonstop.

“She loves spending time with him too, he is her soulmate I’m sure.” You commented.

“And what about you? Is he your soulmate too?” Carlos asked catching you off guard.

Both you and Charles were close to Carlos and he pretty much knew everything about you and your relationship. He was also very angry with you when you broke up because he thought it was a bad decision and that you should have worked on your relationship and not give up on it so easily.

“I-I..” As you were trying to think of an answer to his question, at that very moment the screen of Charles's phone, which he had left on the table in front of you, lit up.

What caught your attention wasn't the notification he received, but your eyes got stuck on the wallpaper on his lock screen. It was a picture of you and Lou that Charles had taken shortly after you had given birth and came home from the hospital. You were lying on the bed and Lou was lying on your chest while you kissed her head.

It was a picture that was very dear to both you and Charles, and he had it as his wallpaper since the day he took it, and what surprised you the most was that he still had it to this day. Even though you were no longer together, he never changed it.

Carlos noticed what you were staring at and he basically took it as an answer to his question although he had already knew it.

“Uncle Carloss!!” Lou screamed with her mouth full of pizza as Charles carried her in his arms over to the table where Carlos and you were sitting.

“Hola, hermosa! Did you get hungry?” Carlos chuckled squeezing her cheek.

“Out of all the possible foods you can think of, my baby chose pizza.” Charles laughed sitting her down on the chair next to you.

You were completely lost in your thoughts and didn't even pay attention what the three of them were talking about. All you could think about was the picture you saw on Charles's phone and how you were getting closer to confessing your still deeply held feelings for him.

And of course today was just as Carlos said it would be. Not only did Charles beat Carlos’ ass on the track, but he also beat all the other drivers by proudly and deservedly taking P1. He couldn't let the win slip through his fingers in front of the two most important people in his life so he fought extra hard for it today.

When it was time to celebrate, your eyes filled with tears at how proud you were of him. First he celebrated with the team, then his eyes searched for you and Lou.

“You wanna congratulate daddy, baby?” You asked her and she nodded excitedly.

You pushed your way towards Charles with her in your arms and when you reached him he instantly hugged her and kissed her on the forehead.

“Good job, daddy!” She said.

“Thank you, baby. This one was for you.” He told her kissing her once again.

“Congratulations, Charles. We’re really proud of you.” You say softly smiling at him tears threatening to run down your cheeks.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you for being here.” He said looking deep into your eyes.

The cameras went crazy over your family moment, closely capturing every interaction between you. It won't be until the next day when you see one of the taken photos of the two of you that it will become completely clear to you how your eyes are betraying you and showing how deeply and obviously in love you are with each other.

When the day was coming to an end, you didn't stay in the paddock any longer, but immediately got on the plane and flew to Monaco, all three of you together. Lou was completely exhausted and when you landed she was already asleep. Charles didn't offer but instead insisted on driving you to your apartment no matter how tired he was.

Charles, carefully so as not to wake her, carried her in his arms into her room and put her to bed. He kissed her goodnight before closing the door and going into the living room thinking he would say goodnight to you too.

“She’s sleeping like a log.” Charles chuckles quietly as he stands in front of you.

“Poor thing, she was so tired. She passed out as soon as we sat in the plane.”

“But I'm glad you came. Both of you. It really meant a lot to me to have you there.”

“I’m glad too. We had a lot of fun. Maybe we can come again sometime.” You say making him smile.

“Anytime you want” He says feeling that the conversation is slowly coming to an end. He wants to continue it so bad, but he knows that both of you are tired and with a heavy heart he has to leave, even though he would rather lie in bed with you now and hold you close to him all night.

“Okay, I’m gonna go now. It’s getting really late.” He says running his hand nervously through his hair while you bite the inside of your cheek so desperately wanting him to ask you if he can stay. “See you soon, yeah? Good night”

Before he turns around to head for the door, you decide that enough is enough. There have been so many obvious signs by now that it's not over between you and that you're still madly in love with each other that you don't want to waste another second being stubborn, but rather surrender to the moment and finally enjoy it.

“Or you can stay the night here..you know..i-if you want to” You blurt out stuttering the last part.

He turns slowly towards you. His expression is unreadable until he places his hands on your cheeks and asks you “Do you want me to stay?”

Without much hesitation, you nod your head and quietly say “I do.”

Initially, it was as if you were afraid to approach each other, as if you were afraid of each other's reaction even though both of you were hoping that the desire was mutual. Then his lips slowly and cautiously began coming closer and closer to yours.

At first, your lips just brushed, pulling back a little, and then they connected into a long, passionate and deep kiss that you both had been eagerly waiting for.

You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders as you let out deep breaths in relief you didn't even know you were holding in.

Things were moving quickly and you didn't waste any time getting to your bedroom. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he picked you up and without breaking the kiss, carried you into the room and laid you down on the bed.

Exhaustion was long forgotten when you took each other's clothes off and started kissing every part of each other’s body.

“I missed you, I missed you so much you don’t even know” He said into the kiss, barely catching his breath from the intense excitement he felt.

“I missed you too, Charles” You half whisper as he pushes into you and one tear rolls down the side of your face.

It felt so good. He felt so good inside you, fit so perfectly like he was made for you. He wanted to make love to you, to show you how much he cares about you so he kept going on and on making your legs shake so many times throughout the night, kissing every inch of your body, pulling you closer to him to calm you down, breathing in your scent and getting lost in your eyes.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” His voice trembled as he rested his forehead against yours and pulled his cock out of you cumming all over your stomach, hands free, then pushing himself back in and wincing.

You fell asleep with him holding you close all night. His arms were hugging you so tightly, as if he was afraid that if he let go even just for a second, he would wake up and it would all be just a dream.

The morning sun's rays didn't let you sleep past eight, so you spontaneously woke up together still in the same position you fell asleep in.

“Good morning ma cherie” He said with a kiss to your lips.

“Morning baby” You smiled caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, very well” He murmurs against your skin. “And you?”

“Me too. I haven't slept this peacefully in a long time.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yeah” You glance at the clock out of the corner of your eye and see that it's almost time for Lou to wake up. “Oh shit, Charles you need to leave, Lou is about to wake up” You say nervously, which completely confuses Charles.

“What? What do you mean I need to leave? Why can’t she know that I’m here?”

“It's not that she can’t know it’s just that I want us to take it slow this time. I'm afraid of screwing this up because it feels so good and so right and I don't know if I could handle us hurting each other again.” You sigh as you explain your reasons to him. “And most of all, I don't want to break Lou's heart.”

He pauses for a moment to think about what you just said and realizes that it makes sense and that you're right. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry we’ll take things slow to make it right this time.” After all, he just wants to fulfill all your wishes and wants to make you happy with whatever you want. “So when do I get to see you again?” He asks and you laugh at his silly question. “What?” He asks confused.

“It's funny that you ask me that. You can see us whenever you want. It's just for a short time until we see how things develop and then of course we'll live together again.”

“I can’t wait for that.”

Soon he got out of the bed and got dressed. He kissed you barely breaking away from you before heading out of the bedroom. The door to Lou's room was open and so he walked slowly on his tiptoes, not wanting to wake her up.

But he realized that was in vain when, passing by her room, he heard “Daddy?!” He stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut and cursing quietly under his breath.

She’d already seen him and he couldn't leave now or get out of the situation in any way, so he decided to go into her room and say good morning to her.

“Hey, baby. Good morning”

“What are you doing here?! Did you sleep here?!” She didn't know what to ask him first from how happy she was that it was morning and he was there.

When the two of them appeared at your bedroom door, it was clear to both you and Charles that from that moment on, you were all living together again.

“Hi there” Charles said holding her in his arms and looking at you.

You didn't say anything, you just covered your face with your hands and started laughing before you uncovered the quilt and said "come here, both of you"

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ugh-yoongi · 3 months ago

Text

ex-conomics | csc

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3

You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.

“Um—”

You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”

“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”

Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.

TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)

You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.

That, however, was two years ago.

“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”

Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”

“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”

You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”

Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”

You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”

“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”

“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.

But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”

You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.

You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.

You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.

You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.

You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.

You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.

You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.

So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.

“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”

For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.

A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.

But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.

Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.

You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.

Your stomach plummets to the floor.

You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.

Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.

The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.

“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”

Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”

She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”

“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”

She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”

You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”

“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”

Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”

Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.

You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”

“And continued wearing it?”

She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”

Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.

So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”

“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”

“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”

Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”

You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.

Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.

“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”

The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.

“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”

She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:

doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄

You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”

“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”

You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.

You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.

And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.

But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.

They never do.

And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.

“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

This time it is an accusation.

Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.

You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.

Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.

Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.

You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.

“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”

You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.

“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”

But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.

“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”

And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.

You cannot go there again.

So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”

Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.

You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.

Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”

He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.

But you did, so it stings all the same.

As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.

You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.

Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.

Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.

He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.

Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”

“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”

“Depends. How long do you have?”

“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”

You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”

“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”

You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”

“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”

Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.

And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.

Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.

“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”

He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”

“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.

You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.

You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.

He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—

“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”

“At this university?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”

Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.

“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.

So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.

Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.

But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.

You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.

Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.

The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.

“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”

He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, right.”

You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.

You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.

I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.

Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.

But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.

So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.

“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”

“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”

You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”

She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.

The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.

“Not bad, actually.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.

“Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”

He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”

You blink. “No, you didn’t.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”

What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.

“They want to know about his girlfriend.”

“His what?”

What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.

But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.

You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.

Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”

Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”

“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”

“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”

“Seungcheol,” you correct.

He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.

They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.

Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?

Seungcheol shared a location with you

You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.

You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.

Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.

Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.

“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”

“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”

You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.

“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”

You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”

Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.

The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.

He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…

It’s the familiarity, you realize.

You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”

“Right—not good enough, like I said.”

“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”

“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”

You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.

So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.

The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.

Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.

Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.

Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.

“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.

Also fruitless.

You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.

And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“If you’re not going to listen, then—”

“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps he never did.

“What are we discussing, then?”

Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”

You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”

It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.

“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”

He nods.

“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”

The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.

So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.

Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.

Kaori invites you to a party.

Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.

After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.

So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.

At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.

You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.

You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.

You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.

You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.

Seungcheol finds you in your office.

It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.

So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”

He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”

You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.

So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.

But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.

Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.

Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.

“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.

You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.

Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.

Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Again.

Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.

She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.

Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.

And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”

Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”

“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”

She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”

“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”

You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”

“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”

A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.

Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.

You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.

Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?

Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.

Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?

Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.

You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.

L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.

You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.

So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.

She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.

“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”

Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”

You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”

She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”

“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”

You do.

Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.

It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.

The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.

There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.

You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.

(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)

One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.

Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.

Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.

You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.

“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”

Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”

Cut to black.

The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…

I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…

You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?

I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.

So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…

I’m sorry.

I love you.

You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.

The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.

“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”

On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”

“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”

She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”

“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”

After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.

The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.

Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.

You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…

And start recording.

He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.

There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?

He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…

Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?

It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—

And then there it was.

All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—

Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.

I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.

I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.

Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.

Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.

You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.

Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.

I love you, too.

—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.

Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.

There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.

He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”

“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.

There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.

Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.

Somehow you taste the same.

Somehow you taste like redemption.

You taste like home.

Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—

And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.

“I always will.”

(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au #scoups angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #jewel writes

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 month ago

Note

Loving your JJK men so I'm here to request fics if possible. I'm feeling Nanami, Geto and Megumi mainly, Sukuna for the shits and anyone else you're in the mood for. It doesn't have to be super long either, just sweet supportive men.

You're either on your way to a thing with friends/family or already at an event when your period either starts or takes a turn for the worse (painful enough cramps to cause nausea) and you're asking them to turn back/leave even though you know you agreed to attend.

Period Problems!

Tags: fluff, cursing, period comfort, established relationships, wee bit of crack

An: Thank you! I appreciate the req <3

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Megumi, Sukuna

SATORU

You kinda let Satoru do all the talking during reunions at Jujutsu Tech. It’s not that you don’t like your former classmates; you do. You just find so much socialization to be kinda exhausting.

Satoru was the opposite however. He’s a natural born extrovert that can talk to other people so casually for hours on end. Socialization doesn’t tire him out at all, so he’s quick to take over conversations for you when he can sense that your social battery is low.

He’s subtle with it: placing his arm slightly in front of you as he steps up, casually inserting himself into the conversation. It feels fluid and not forced at all.

That’s how you two were right now. You were tucked behind his arm, leaning your head against his shoulder. You had been cramping all day long, so you already wasn’t in too good of a mood. The socialization was really the cherry on top.

A torturous wave of cramps hit, nearly making your knees buckle from under you. Your hand tightened around Satoru’s bicep, and you tried to breathe your way through it, not wanting to take him away from all his friends.

Satoru turned his head towards you, and he could immediately notice how pale you looked. “Hey, it was good seeing you though. Take care of the wife and kids.” Your husband smiled at whoever he was talking to before guiding you away from everyone else.

“What’s the matter, sweets? You alright?” He asks softly as he’s extended his infinity out to you so no one can touch you or even get close to you.

“Cramping… hurts..” was all you could manage to get out.

“Let’s get you home, sweets. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” His large palm rubs at the small of your back as he opens the door for you, allowing you to step out.

“Didn’t wanna ruin your event.” You murmur quietly as tears brim in your eyes. You didn’t want to be seen as an inconvenience to him.

“Hey, heyy… c’mere, sweet girl.” Satoru wraps you up in a tight embrace, petting your hair as you cried into his dress shirt. “My poor baby. What kind of husband would I be if I made my wife who’s in a lot of pain get up and go to something as uncomfortable as a reunion? I don’t even really care about those people anyway. You’re my priority.” He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” You murmur quietly, and he steps back away from you.

“Right, let’s get you home. I’ll make some chocolate covered strawberries, and we can watch that reality tv show you really like.” Satoru suggests as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car.

SUGURU

Who said cults couldn’t have bake sales? It brings a sense of community and camaraderie amongst the members. Geto thought you were a literal genius when you came up with the idea.

You had been in charge of planning and organizing the entire bake sale, and today was finally the day. It’s early in the morning, and Geto’s helping the girls in the kitchen bake blueberry muffins so they have enough time to cool before the sale.

You stirred out of your own slumber upon hearing the girls giggling. “Hey now, you two, don’t you wake your mama up. She’s sleeping.” Your husband warns the twins, and they both try to shush each other. The giggling pursues anyway, but you don’t mind. You wouldn’t rather be woken up any other way.

As you slowly eased yourself out of bed, your stomach immediately cramped up, sending shockwaves of pain down your thighs and back at the same time.

Was it really that time of the month already?

Your stained bedsheets said yes. You must’ve started in your sleep. Great.

Upon hearing you rustling around in the bedroom, Suguru walks in, not expecting to find you haphazardly pulling the sheets off yours and his bed.

“I just washed the sheets a couple weeks ago.” Geto said with a curious smile on his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, wondering what you were doing.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Your voice is quiet and full of shame that immediately has Suguru is full-on “fix mode”.

“Hey- what happened, baby?” He asks as he shuts the bedroom door behind him, so the girls can’t come and be nosey.

You sniffle softly and turn to show Geto your poor pajama pants that were now soaked in blood, and he immediately understands.

“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. How are you feeling?” He tenderly asks as he comes and takes the sheets out of your hand. He begins to pull them off for you.

“‘m hurting really bad..” You answer him in a quiet murmur.

“Go take a bath, darling. I got everything else. Don’t worry about it.” He presses a small kiss to the top of your head. “Throw your panties and pants in the hamper. I’ll try to get the stains out.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be grossed out.”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a grown man. I can handle anything your body does.” He assures you as he carries the sheets over towards the laundry room.

You soak in the warm bath for quite a while, but the cramps still persist. You anxiously check the time on your phone like a hundred times. The bake sale should be starting soon, so you need to get up and start getting ready.

A knock at the door disturbs your track of thought. “It’s me, darling. Can I come in?” Suguru’s voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, come in.” You answer back to him, and Suguru carries in a cup of tea before he shuts the door.

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, princess.” He sits down on the floor next to the tub, and he carefully hands you the cup of tea.

“Thank you- I’m just trying to muster up enough strength to get up, so we can make it to the bake sale.” You say as you shift in the bath. The warm water and bubbles lap at your skin.

“Mmm, no need. Just focus on relaxing for right now, and we’ll see about making an appearance later on.”

“What do you mean? What about the girls? They’ll be devastated.”

“I had Manami take them to the sale. They’ll be fine.” He informs you as he pets your hair.

“Are you sure things will be alright? What if…”

“Ah, none of that. Things will be fine. You did a perfect job while planning everything. Our members are not incompetent people. They can handle a small bake sale, my love. I want you to just relax for today. Like I said, we might make a small appearance if you feel up to it later.”

“Sugu, I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

NANAMI

“Mmm, no can do. Sorry, it’ll have to be another day.” Nanami speaks into his phone as he’s looking at his calendar.

Ino has been begging to meet his wife for far too long now, so Nanami finally offered for Ino to come to yours and his house for dinner one evening. Planning it has been tough due to the vigorous schedules.

“Maybe it will just have to be next month.” Nanami shrugs his shoulders. He’s really not too bothered by not letting Ino meet you as he really tries not to involve you in his work life.

“Hm? Nanamin, what’s wrong with the 18th? We don’t have anything scheduled that day?” You ask curiously while tilting your head.

Your husband makes a face at you before he quickly taps the mute button on his phone. “Darling, according to your cycle, you’ll probably start your menstrual period that day. I highly doubt you’ll want any visitors over.”

Ah yes, you must’ve forgotten that you married a man who is literally obsessed with you and your happiness.

“That’s if my period comes on the day it’s suppose to. It could be late or early. You never know. Just invite him over. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You assure him, waving away his concerned gaze.

Yeah, that was a fuckin mistake.

You had worked for the better half of the day preparing Katsudon for everyone to enjoy when Ino and Nanami get off work. You had to take frequent breaks: sitting down or lying down to try to weather yourself through your cramps.

Nanami was right — your period started earlier that morning, and you absolutely did not want company over today. You kept trying to persevere — not wanting to admit that Nanami might know your body better than you do. Also, you weren’t a fan of cancelling plans last minute.

Though, when the kitchen started to feel like it was over a hundred degrees in there, and the room started to spin, you knew you had to call and say something to your husband.

“Hey darling, we’re almost there. Sorry we’re running behind. I had to teach Ino how to tie a tie.” Your husband speaks over the phone, and your heart instantly sinks into your stomach. This poor boy is wearing a tie to come and meet you, but you’re fixing to cancel.

“Nanamin…” You mumble sheepishly over the phone. You feel terrible for having to cancel, but there’s just no way you can power through it.

“Are you alright, darling..?” He asks cautiously. His ability to instantly tell when something was wrong with you was still astonishing to this day.

“You were right… I don’t feel good.”

“Oh darling.. I was right? You started this morning, didn’t you?”

“… yeah.” You reluctantly admit with a small pout. It’s bad enough that you’re cramping terribly right now. Now, you have to admit just how right your husband was.

“Good thing Ino’s not with me, and I never arranged for him to come by tonight.” He says with a small huff of amusement. “I’m getting you one of those cheesecakes you really like. Then, I’ll be home.”

Oh, to be married to the king of domestic love.

“Ken, I love you. Hurry home please.” Your heart is immediately melting in your chest. Marrying him was the best decision of your life.

“I love you more, darling.”

CHOSO

There’s nothing worse than being overcrowded while on your period, and currently, that’s what was exactly happening.

Sitting between Choso and Yuji on a too small couch while Yuji lore dumped about Human Earthworm 1 and 2 was literally a nightmare, but it was even worse since your stomach was cramping up so badly to where you couldn’t even hear the words spilling from Yuji’s mouth.

Immediately, you regret agreeing to hanging out with Yuji today, but you hated seeing your cute boyfriend’s face turn to disappointment when you tell him no.

You assured him that he could hang out with Yuji without you — you didn’t mind sharing him with his little brother at all, but Choso would always say that it’s more fun with you involved.

Thus, you’re squished between the oversized males on the couch, watching the third Human Earthworm movie for like the 5th time while Itadori points out every little easter egg.

Your stomach is cramping so badly — making you feel like you’re either about to throw up or pass out or the secret option of doing both. Your cramps are literally reverberating through your thighs.

You didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, but your heart was starting to pound in your chest. You lean your head back, trying to stop the room from spinning in your head.

“Baby?” Choso’s voice echoes in your ear. Yuji pauses the movie, and they both look at you with a concerned look. Your boyfriend could immediately tell that something was wrong with you.

“Yuu, go get her some water.” Choso instructs, and he sits up on the couch. His hands start to fan over your face, wafting air towards you to help out. “Baby, can you hear me?”

Yuji quickly scrambles from the couch, and he jogs to the kitchen to get you a cold glass of water. Choso and Yuji do not look any alike, but they both have the same caring heart.

“Cho, I feel like ‘m gonna throw up.” Your voice is barely a strained whisper.

“Okay baby, hold on. Hold on for me, pretty girl.” Choso brushes your hair back from your face, and he then quickly sprints towards the bathroom to get the trashcan for you.

Choso returns quickly, and he places the trashcan in your lap. “Here you go, baby.” He whispers softly, and he places his hand gently on your shoulder for moral support. He’s not too great at these things, but he wants you to know that he’s here for you.

“What’s the matter? Are you sick or..?” He asks you, still trying to get to the root of what’s got you so ill all of a sudden.

“Cramping..” You murmur quietly, and Choso instantly feels like a fool. You told him you started your period this morning, but he completely forgot.

“I’m so sorry, baby… Do you still feel like you’re going to throw up?” He asks as his eyes never leave your face. Your head is still tilted back, and your eyes are closed.

“No.. I think it passed for now.” You reply quietly, taking the small moment of reprieve that your ovaries decided to give you.

“C’mere, princess.” Choso mumbles lowly, and he scoops you into his arms bridal style before standing up. “Let’s get you into bed, yeah? I’ll get you some pain medicine and your heating pad.”

“Mmm.. love you, Cho.” Your voice is muffled against his shoulder.

“Hey Yuu, don’t worry about that water, kay? I’m gonna get her to bed. We’ll finish the movie maybe sometime next week.” Choso calls out to his brother that is miraculously still in the kitchen.

Yuji was cowering in the kitchen with his ears covered because he heard you say you were going to throw up, and his emetophobia started acting up.

“Great! See you later!” He shouts as he sprints out the house, getting as far away from there as possible.

MEGUMI

Visiting Gojo in his vacation home was something you’ve been looking forward to for months now. Gojo owned a vacation home up towards the snowy peaks, and he invited you and Megumi to come up there and stay for a week during the winter.

You had planned so many fun activities to do with Megumi like snowboarding, skiing, or building a snowman.

Not to mention the thought of cozying up to your boyfriend in front of a fireplace sounded like exactly what you two needed after these past few stressful weeks.

The only kicker was the morning you two were set to leave, you started your period.

Trying not to panic, you packed a whole box of tampons and pads, and you packed like 15 extra pairs of underwear… just in case.

It would be fine, right? Maybe you and him could just spend more time cozied up rather than being out in the snow. Besides, Megumi didn’t really care what you two did. He was happy with whatever you picked out. As long as you two were together, he’d be fine with whatever activity.

You just had to make it through an eight hour car ride…

By hour two, your entire body is screaming at you. Your lower tummy feels like it’s on fire, and the pain is shooting through your back. No matter how many times you shift, you’re not comfortable.

It’s hot in the car, but then, it’s too cold. You’re so damn uncomfortable that you’re nearly in tears.

After your nth time shifting in your seat, Megumi finally speaks up. “Are you already that antsy? We’ve barely started..”

“No, I…” You wince before slightly doubling over in the passenger side seat. “I’m just cramping a lot.”

“Shit, really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks as he glances over at you with a look of concern. He’s well aware of how severe your periods can get sometimes. He’s taken care of you enough times to see exactly how much pain you’re in.

“I thought I could power through.” You sniffle, instantly feeling guilty for putting a damper on the trip.

“Hey, hey..” Megumi reaches over and runs his fingers through your hair. He keeps his other hand on the steering wheel — trying his best to drive safely and comfort you at the same time. “It’s alright. You’re really hurtin’, huh?”

“Mhm…” You quietly hum in agreement, and you lean your head on Megumi’s hand.

Without saying another word, Megumi takes the next exit, and he drives for a minute, ignoring your questions. He then pulls into a fancy looking hotel before putting the car in park.

“Stay in here for just a second, yeah? I’ll be right back.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving the car and walking into the hotel lobby.

A few minutes pass before he returns to the car. By the time he’s back, you can already feel a migraine starting to kick in.

“Can you walk, gorgeous?” He asks tenderly as he unbuckles your seatbelt for you,

“Yeah — I can walk..” You reply in a pained voice.

“Alright. Let’s go in here. I got us a room.” He offers his hand, and he helps guide you out of the car before he grabs both of the suitcases.

“What..? What about Gojo?”

“He can wait. Your health is more important. It’s not like his vacation home will disappear over night. We’ll see how you feel about driving some more tomorrow. If not, we’ll turn back around and head home.”

“Are you sure..? I don’t wanna ruin the trip.” You sniffle before rubbing your face. Your stomach starts to cramp up again, nearly making your knees buckle. Megumi’s hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you into the hotel lobby.

“I already told you, gorgeous. I don’t care what we do. I just want to be with you.”

SUKUNA

Sukuna could smell the exact minute your period started. Blame it on him being a curse.

He avoids you like the plague when he knows you’re bleeding because he truly believes that he will only make your pain worse. He knows he’s not the nicest, so he just tries to stay out of your way.

It’s definitely not because he’s terribly afraid of women who can bleed for seven days straight and not die.

“Ryo?” Dammit. You caught him.

“Yes, woman?” He reluctantly turns to look at you. You were wearing an elegant dress that he usually loved to peel off you before completely ravaging you.

“Are we… not doing tithe today..?” You ask with a small frown. You had gotten dressed up for the purpose of addressing yours and Sukuna’s subjects.

“No… I’ll hold tithe next week.” He nods his head. Truthfully, he had concerned himself so much with avoiding you that he had forgotten all about tithe.

“But… you always do it on the first of the month..” You’re nearly in tears. Why was he avoiding you? Did he not want to be seen with you? Was he embarrassed of you now? So many insecure thoughts and high-running emotions.

Sukuna’s literally sweating. What the fuck did he say to make you upset? “Why do you cry, woman? Don’t cry. I didn’t realize tithe was that important to you. We’ll have tithe right now.”

“You don’t love me!” Fat tears are running down your cheeks. Your hormones making you feel like the worst person on planet earth right now.

“Who the fuck said that!?” Now Sukuna’s shouting too. This is a mess. He just wants you to not bleed and to not be sad.

A moment of silence between the two of you allows him to reflect for a moment. He looks at you as you’re just looking up at him with big teary eyes, and he quietly sighs before pulling you into a hug.

“Let’s go do this tithe, and then, you can explain to me what I’ve done to make you feel so down.”

Your mood changed just as fast. Maybe he did really love you! You sat on his lap at he was sitting on his throne. Curse after curse would come up and give whatever they could spare to the king as tithe.

You were sweet to each and every one, making sure to compliment each unique ‘gift’ that was bestowed upon you two. Truthfully, the curses loved having you as a queen, but even they were avoiding you today. They could smell your menstrual period as much as Sukuna could.

If you weren’t so focused on your cramps, you’d be a bummed out because now your subjects didn’t even seem to like you as much.

The king’s second pair of eyes darted towards you as soon as he could hear your breath shifting, but you still wore a smile. He decided not to question it.

But when you started to grip onto the throne and his arm tightly, your face was pale, and you could barely manage to speak, he immediately ordered everyone out.

“Alright, that’s enough. Get the fuck out.” He barked, and curses went scrambling everywhere. Hell, even Uraume took that as a direct order.

“What ails you, human?” He asks as his full attention is on you now. You’re practically a mess in his lap from the pain — feeling like you might throw up or pass out from how bad it hurts.

“Cramps.” You answer Sukuna lowly, and you try your best to breathe through them.

“How do I make them go away?” He asks, spoken like a true man… always wanting to fix everything.

“Sometimes a heating pad helps…” You wince as you can feel nausea bubbling up from how much pain you’re in.

“You said heat?” Sukuna asks as flames coat his hand.

“Not that much heat-!” You whine and shift in his lap before the flames dissipate.

“Make up your mind, woman.” He grumbles before he rests his palm on your lower tummy. His hand was still very warm from the flames, and you instantly ease in his lap.

His eyes stay fixated on you while you rest on his lap quietly, and he ever so carefully starts to rub your stomach. He finds your behavior very much cat-like. Too bad he really didn’t like cats — too unpredictable.

“How do I keep this from coming back?” He questions more to himself than to you.

“Pregnancy.” You murmur to him, half-asleep due to the immense amount of relief you felt.

“Great. I shall get you pregnant then.”

“What.”

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