#they all exist in different verses though

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓜IXED 𝓤P 𝓛EAVE 𝓜E 𝓐LONE ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

it takes time for people to change . . . enha x f!reader (yjw focused), poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 18.2k , warnings! my poor attempts of writing angst, YN’s a little insensitive with the concept of a poly relationship but it’s new to her so it’s fine, she also cries a lot, alcohol, daddy issues & mommy issues, familial struggles in general, her dad makes a rude comment to Won, rushed writing, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread

DISCLAIMER! I’m not assuming anything about Jungwon’s family. They’re barely mentioned and are soley used as a way for him & reader to connect

when speaking in … korean, english, japanese

previous episode ᨳ next episode

©all4aoki, 2024

     You had always dreaded your birthday month. 

There was never a specific reason, apart from the intense emotions that would never fail to arrive with April. When you lived in New Zealand, it was because of the first term of your school year ending. When you were studying in Paris, your life had been stressful during every waking moment due to the competitive environment of young girls vying to stay in the program. The hopes of becoming a dancer at the company outweighing anything else that might have once been important. Not to mention the intense living environment. And then, as a trainee, you were so focused on evaluations and working for your spot as an idol that you almost forgot to keep track of the days. 

Long story short, you were never able to enjoy your birthday. At some point, you had concluded that the day came with so much stress and anxiety, that you would never be able to bask in the fact that those hours were supposed to be all about you, spent celebrating your existence. 

This year, though, was a completely different scenario. 

Enhypen had been spending the days working towards their second comeback, and you could already tell it would be one of significance. You were all finally establishing your style of music and to say the least, it was a genre that you thoroughly enjoyed. It was just a plus that the other members liked everything about it as well. The recording process was finally something you were beginning to truly understand, and the dancing–well, the dancing had always been easy for you. One of the only things that you felt confident in and had maintained a passion for despite the challenges you’d endured. 

When April 7th came the year of your seventeenth birthday (eighteen by Korean standards), you’d found yourself in the practice room. Once again with the routine for Border: Carnival’s title track.

Sweat was beginning to perspire on the sides of your neck and the skin beneath your tank top and sweatpants was warm. You pushed stringy pieces of your hair out of your face, huffing out a breath of air as you got into position for the second verse yet again. Of course, you’d forgotten a hair tie. 

Thankfully, though, Jay hadn’t. As you passed him to get to your spot behind Riki, he gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, spinning you back towards him. 

“Is a low pony okay?”

The grin on your face probably made you look like an idiot as your boyfriend began sweeping your hair, which was getting maybe a bit too long, off your skin. 

“Be careful, it’s kind of knotty right now,” you said softly as Jay smoothed some of the bumps that had formed as he pulled your hair back for you. Giddiness spiraled through your heart as he secured the hair tie that he’d been beginning to keep on his wrist at all times in your hair. His hands patted your shoulders gently as he steered you back to your place in the formation just as the choreographer finished talking with Riki. 

“There you go, birthday girl.” As you glanced over your shoulder at Jay, the subtle shade of red on his ears almost made you giggle. You could tell he wanted to do more than touch your hair, but with the circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t. 

Whatever throuple had been formed between Jay, Sunghoon, and you had quickly become the light of your life. Of course, it wasn’t without its struggles, but slowly, you were all starting to fall into a pattern that worked. A way where you could show your love for them equally while they expressed their love for you as well without the other getting too jealous. It was early in your relationship with Jay still, and for that reason, the three of you had yet to share the fact that you were practically being shared with the others.

It was moments like these where you wished that it wouldn’t be like this much longer. Where you wouldn’t have to hide your affection for both of your boyfriends in front of your other loved ones. Where you could dote on them like the loving girlfriend you strived to be because they both deserved that and more.

“Let’s walk through the counts for Riki’s part one more time,” the choreographer announced. You shifted your body weight into the balls of your feet as you spread your legs apart, preparing to move through the moves slower than what should’ve been humanly possible. 

Cleaning was always the most tedious part of any routine. Especially when it came to comebacks. One more time became two became three and then every time you closed your eyes all you could think of was the minuscule details that had been instructed upon your group. 

You wondered how long it would take for you to get tired of performing this song. Every day you would have a different opinion of how you felt about the melody you were moving to. Nine times out of ten, you adored every part of your job. But there were fleeting moments where you never wanted to hear the lyrics again. 

And unfortunately, despite only being a few hours into the dance rehearsal, you’d reached that point with Drunk-Dazed. It was probably only going to last for the rest of the day, but as you exited the marking stage of cleaning the second verse, you were growing tired. Maybe that feeling of this birthday being different was something your intuition had gotten wrong because that exhaustion you’d gotten so used to was finally showing its face. 

Your knees met the hardwood floor again as you dropped down between Jungwon and Heeseung, and you could only hope that the hits you were performing were sharper than they felt. Exhaustion blooming in your muscles, you pushed yourself back to your feet, bending your legs and folding at the waist, letting the beat control your tempo and trusting your body to deliver despite being on auto-pilot. 

Snap back up. Feet out. Twist right heel. Left arm out–

Pain snapped up through your nose as Jungwon’s hand collided with your face. Instantly, your right hand shot to the throbbing exuding from your nose, but your feet continued moving. 

The music didn’t stop. The only notice you got was the choreographer yelling at you to move a step back when it came to that formation. 

Only when Jake slid into the center as the pre-chorus began did the room finally go silent. 

“Your guys’ heads are all different angles right now,” the choreographer said as she moved to stand facing the mirror so you all could see her. “Top left-hand corner. Heeseung, your head is too far back…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what she said, opting to focus on the marks of red on the back of the hand that you pulled away from your nose. It was difficult not to groan in annoyance, and when your face reflected your emotions, more discomfort came from your nose as it scrunched up. 

“YN-ie’s bleeding,” Jungwon said, voice loud enough for the choreographer to hear. As well as everyone else. Including your two boyfriends, who quickly jerked in your direction, but the staff in charge swiftly stopped them.

“Jungwon go help her. YN, your part’s next so try to make it as quick as possible.”

Your fingers found the spot beneath the nostril that was bleeding, “Okay!” Following her instructions, you hastily moved across the practice room to your bags as Jungwon grabbed some tissues before heading over to the spot you were standing in. 

One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers disrupting the position of some of your hair and causing some flyaways. “Tilt your head back… There you go,” he murmured as you did what your leader asked. “Keep pinching your nose bridge,” Jungwon added as he held some of the tissues under your nostrils.

You weren’t particularly fond of this position. Or how soft his voice was. Unsure of what to say as he tended to your injury, you cleared your throat, “You could grab a tampon from my bag. We can just stick it up my nose and call it quits.”

Jungwon scoffed out a chuckle, rearranging the tissues so a clean part continued soaking up the blood. 

“Then all the blood would go to your brain and you would move even slower than you are right now.”

You pretended to pout, “I’m not slow. And that’s probably the most inaccurate thing that I’ve heard all day.”

“Really?” Jungwon laughed at the joke in his head before he even said it. “You spend the majority of your time with Sunghoon but that’s the most inaccurate thing you’ve heard?”

Side-eyeing him, you push away the hand that was holding the tissues under your nose. “Don’t be mean,” you laugh, trying to take the soft papers from his hand. Jungwon tries to avoid your grasp.

“Let me help you,” Jungwon says as he slaps your hand away, placing the tissues back beneath your nose. “It’s your birthday after all.”

You sigh, “One birthday where I don’t have to do anything is all I’ve ever wanted, but no–” The pressure on your nose shoots up through your nerves again and you let out a small, ‘Ow’. Jungwon instantly pulls away, muttering lots of small “Sorry’s”. You smile at him gently, fighting the remaining soreness of your nose as you do so, “It’s okay, Oppa.”

“If it makes you feel better,” he says softly, “I know how you feel.”

You take a moment, swallowing harshly as your ears distantly pick up the sounds of the choreographer working with the other members. “Nobody knows exactly how you feel,” you say, trying to keep your voice low. Jungwon smiles a little at your words, and as you look at his eyes, you can see how they’re trained on your nose and the work he’s doing to stop the bleeding. 

“Okay…” he huffs, the small smile still tilting the corners of his lips up, “Can I say I’ve been in the same situation before?”

You shrug, trying not to laugh, “You can say whatever you want.”

Jungwon shoots you a look as he fixes the tissues under your nose again. It was easy to forget that Jungwon was older than you, even if it only was by two months, and that you needed to treat him with the same respect the older members expected from you too. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, it was just so effortless to let sarcasm and teasing slip into your conversations, causing your words that would probably give Heeseung a heart attack if you ever said them to him. 

“My family…” Jungwon starts quietly, and you can see the way the light behind his warm eyes dims a bit. “They expected a lot from me no matter the circumstances, or the day, or whatever–” he cuts himself off, and you can tell that he’s frustrated at the fact he can’t find the right words. 

“Take your time,” you offer gently. Jungwon nods, unable to meet your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls the tissues away from your nose, and you lower your chin again. No more blood slips from your nostrils, and you figure you should probably rejoin the group. But a larger part of you wants to continue this conversation with Jungwon. Your feet stay glued to the same spot as you hear the choreographer call your guys’ names. The boy in front of you instantly drops the vulnerable look on his face, offering a smile that is clearly fake to the staff as he nods. And then you’re turning around to head back into the formation, leaving the topic back in the corner of the room.

Your eyes meet Sangmi’s, and your best friend raises her eyebrows at the dazed expression you’re sporting. All you can manage is a small shake of your head, wordlessly telling her to drop it. With the way her mouth presses into a thin line, you conclude she’s suppressing a laugh and you resist the urge to go over and smack her upside the head.

“YN-ssi,” the sharp voice of the choreographer cuts through your thoughts, and your head snaps to look over at her. She gestures for you to get into your spot and you nod once, following the directions.

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” As you begin working through your moves in the pre-chorus, the once bothersome sound of the beat served as the perfect thing to distract you from overthinking Jungwon’s words. 

Sunghoon and Jay are quick to attach themselves to your sides the moment those three and a half hours finish, Sunghoon being able to wrap his arm around your waist while Jay keeps an appropriate distance from you. 

“I’m fine, Hoon,” you mutter as your boyfriend takes hold of your chin to try and tilt your head up.

Sunghoon looks down at you and you puff out a small breath, “We need to wrap you in bubble wrap or something, I swear you’re always getting hurt.”

You push away his hand as it tries to touch your nose. 

“Stop.”

Jay chuckles as he leans down to collect your bag along with his, enjoying the sight of you playfully scolding Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon-ah, Jungwon-ie took care of her. You touching her nose would probably make it worse.” Sunghoon’s lips turn down into a frown and you feel your heart melt a little at the cute sight. Halfheartedly, you reach up to ruffle Sunghoon’s hair, the strands damp with perspiration. 

“Thank you for being concerned, Hoon, but I really am okay.” 

The younger’s dark eyes dart over to Jay before they settle back on you as he sighs deeply, wrapping both of his arms around you in a small hug.

“Some birthday you’re having.” You laugh at his words as he presses his chin onto your shoulder.

Your line of vision turns to Jay, “Some birthday I’ll be having when I’m home, back in bed and cuddling with you both.” Jay reaches out to hold onto your arm as you begin to move away from Sunghoon, jerking towards the direction of the door. 

Jay glances around the room for a moment, and you realize that Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung have already left. “Just– wait here for one more second,” Jay says quietly as you grip onto Sunghoon’s forearms that are still wrapped around you. 

“Why? People have already started leaving–” 

The majority of the lights in the room turn off as the door pushes open, a cluster of flames held by Jungwon being the only light source as the boy, along with the rest of your members approach you. When you set your eyes on the cake, their singing meeting your ears as a sort of fondness fills your heart. You don’t remember the last time someone sang to you like this on your birthday. Cake and all.

Your eyes dart around to each of their faces, taking in the way the glow of the fire makes their features shine in a golden light. The shadow of Heeseung’s lashes, the fondness of Jay’s smile, the way Jake’s eyes turn up slightly as he grins, Sunghoon’s hair falling in front of his eyes, the soft flush growing on Sunoo’s cheeks like rosebuds, and Riki’s plump lips forming over the words of the song. Sangmi’s little claps to the uneven beat and… the way Jungwon’s looking at you. 

His eyes are shining. You always thought that when people described eyes like that, it never made sense, but the gleam in his pupils proves you wrong. Something jerks in your chest, but before you can think about it for too long, your members have finished the song. All of them stare at you as they wait for you to blow out the candles. 

“Make a wish,” Jungwon whispers, your eyes flicking back to his to still see the sparkle evident. Clutching your hands together in front of your chest, you lean forward, thinking for a moment before gently blowing the flames out. The rest of the group claps as you stand up straight to smile at them, the lights in the practice room flicking back on. 

As Jungwon hands the cake off to one of the staff, Jay reaches to wrap an arm around your middle before the younger speaks up again. “What’d you wish for?” You can’t tell him. Not because of the whole saying that wishes wouldn’t come true if you said them aloud, but because you just–couldn’t. “Now why would I tell you that?” At least you could still make him laugh.

When you get back to the dorm, there’s an hour left of your birthday. And you’re exhausted. 

The group enters the small house, voices still loud despite the long day of training and preparation as you all kick off your shoes and remove your coats. Sunghoon’s following you so closely as you enter the dorm that his scent is the only thing you can smell and you turn around to look at him.

“Tired?” You nod and he repeats the action back to you. “Wanna go to bed?”

You glance down at your phone screen and the sight that meets you has a sudden rush of sadness overwhelming you. 

“I think I want to sleep alone tonight…” As you trail off, Sunghoon furrows his thick brows a little.

“Is something wrong? Thought you wanted to cuddle?”

You smile weakly, trying to play off the tightness that’s growing quickly and suddenly in your chest. “Nope. Just don’t wanna have to share with a bed-hog tonight.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, hand reaching out to rub your arm softly. 

“I don’t hog the bed, but if that’s what you want, then of course…” he pauses for a moment, hand still brushing over the skin of your bicep and sending little sensations through you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re nodding before you can even process it. “If I wasn’t I would tell you. Or Jay.”

Sunghoon might still be a little suspicious, you can’t tell, but he hides it well. His lips form a firm line as he wraps his arms around you in a weak hug, chin resting on your hair as you both still stand in the entrance of the dorm, all of the other members already spreading out throughout the home. Your mind drifts to Jay for a moment, before Sunghoon places a soft kiss on your head.

“Wait for a second, Jay’s getting your present from us.”

“Can we save it for tomorrow?” you say after a beat of silence and you regret it right away. Sunghoon pulls back a bit, expression reading concern again as you rush to cover your words. “I’m just really tired–”

“What’s wrong?” Jay approaches the two of you, a small and poorly wrapped box in his hands. 

You shake your head and force a smile for what feels like the hundredth time as you shift in Sunghoon’s arms. “Nothing. Did you guys wrap that yourselves?”

They both chuckle. “Is it that obvious?” Sunghoon asks.

“Unfortunately,” you tease them, taking the gift from Jay while uttering a small ‘Thanks’. 

Jay tilts his head to the side as your eyes stay down, refusing to meet his own. “You gonna go to bed?” A soft hum of agreement leaves your throat and Jay’s head moves in an understanding nod. Sunghoon lets go of you as you move to hug your boyfriend. 

“I’ll open this tomorrow morning with you guys. Try to make my birthday last as long as possible.”

Jay smiles before kissing you softly. The touch of his lips helps to soothe the dull feeling of pain in your heart. He pulls away, thumb running gently over your cheek as Sunghoon watches you both. 

“You’re so loved, do you know that?”

How did they see through you so effortlessly? How did they just always know? It didn’t feel fair sometimes and you have to swallow thickly to push down your tears. “I know,” you confirm quietly and Jay smiles a little again as Sunghoon kisses your cheek. 

“Good. Because we love you so much,” Jay continues and you hope your face shows him how much you truly appreciate his words. 

“I love you both too. So much.”

They both give you one more quick kiss before releasing you from their grips. You stand still for another moment, just taking in the sight of them both and letting yourself soak in their love. Sometimes, you don’t know what you did to deserve it, but you have to always promise yourself to appreciate it more than anything else you have in your life. 

“Good night.”

“Good night. Happy birthday, princess,” Sunghoon says and you smile watery at them both before turning to walk down the hallway to your room. 

As you enter the space, closing the door behind you, you don’t bother to turn the lights on. That dreaded feeling that you can only describe as heavy, and scary, weighing on you as you place the birthday present on your desk before going to sit on your bed. 

11:46 P.M. You unlock your phone slowly, going to contacts and pressing on the one you’re looking for. The line rings twice before you hear your sister pick up the call.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she cheers from the other side and you laugh at the sound of her voice. From the way her words are rough, you can tell she's just woken up. “You’re an adult now… Oh my god, you’re getting old.”

“At least I’m not 24. You’re almost halfway to thirty.” 

Your sister shushes you, “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t let that slide.” You laugh. Hearing her talk takes you back to a time when you were younger. The familiarity of her accent makes you think about New Zealand, about your home, and how easy things were when you were growing up. Nostalgia and sadness are a dangerous combination, and you push them away from your heart to the best of your ability. 

“I sent you a card. I don’t think it’ll get to Korea anytime soon, but it’s on the way,” she continues and you’re thankful for the way she keeps talking. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “It was busy, but it was good.”

“That’s good,” she says before she’s quiet for a moment. “Have mum and dad said anything?” 

That’s what you had been waiting for–the other shoe to drop. You try to not start crying instantly. 

“Um… not yet,” you offer pathetically. She kisses her teeth on the other side of the phone. Then she mutters something under her breath. You don’t bother trying to catch it, you know she’s probably insulting them. “But you know, there’s still time.”

Nine minutes.

“Don’t worry about it, Sissy.” She says as you reach up to rub at your eyes. 

“I know I shouldn’t. It just sucks.” You suck in a deep breath. “I thought… I thought that they would at least wish me a happy birthday, you know?” Your voice grows shaky, and the first tear falls. You wipe it away before it gets even halfway down your cheek. 

“I know,” your sister tries to comfort you. “They’ll come around eventually, YN. They’re shitty parents, but you’re their daughter. They can’t stay mad at you for following your dreams forever.” 

More tears escape your eyes, “I hope not.” And you really do. No matter how much you want to hate them for the way they’ve treated you since you joined I-Land, you can’t. Maybe you’re too forgiving, or maybe it’s the fact that they’re just the people who are supposed to love you no matter what. “I’m, um… I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” your sister doesn’t protest, knowing that you probably want to be alone right now. “I love you.”

Her words make you smile a little, “I love you too.” And then you hang up the call. 

You don’t want to dwell on it, you’ve already done that enough for probably the rest of your life. You feel embarrassed as you sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at your phone screen, watching as the clock ticks closer to the next day and waiting for even just the smallest message from your parents. It never comes.

Time passes quickly after that. You want to throw your phone, want to smash it into pieces as that sadness from being neglected turns into anger. It was a cycle you were used to, and you still hadn’t learned how to cope with it. When Sangmi comes into your shared room, you finally get up to change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Usually, you both would talk a little before bed, but it seems like she’s even more tired than you, because as soon as her head hits the pillows, the sound of her soft snores fills the silence. 

You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning and trying to think of anything else, but it’s no use. Your emotions are too heavy and it feels like nothing will make you feel better. Not even Jay or Sunghoon. Eventually, you peel back the covers of your bed, slipping out of your room quietly as you go to the kitchen to try and find any melatonin that you might’ve left in the cabinets. 

The dorm is dark as you slip through the hallways, everyone else is asleep or at least tucked away in their rooms as you enter the kitchen. The tile is cool on your feet as you quietly pad over to the cabinets above the stove, the different temperature helping to ground you a bit. You stand on your toes as you open the first one. Nothing. The next. Nothing. The next. Nothing–

“What’re you doing?” You let out a small yelp, jumping slightly as you startle, hand releasing the cabinet door and causing it to slam shut. Both you and Jungwon flinch at the loud slam. Neither of you speak, listening to hear if the sound woke anyone up. It’s almost eerie how quiet the dorm is. 

You clear your throat, turning around fully to face the boy standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was gonna get some melatonin, but I couldn’t find any…”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...We keep all of the medications and medicine in the bathrooms.”

“Oh,” you laugh weakly. “You’re right. I must’ve been thinking about… What we did at home.” Your bottom lip trembles at the realization. God, you missed being at home so badly. You missed being with your family so badly. “Sorry,” you mumble as you feel the water slip down your face, “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep crying.”

Jungwon is rushing around the kitchen island as you lift your hands to your face, trying to hide the way your features scrunch together as you begin crying. He pulls you into his arms, shushing you softly as his hands squeeze you tightly. Distantly, you remember something about how pressure can help calm anxiety and stress, but the front of your mind is focused on how everything hurts. 

“I don’t know what I did, Wonnie, I don’t know why they won’t talk to me,” you say through small breaths, soaking the fabric of his shirt. 

He tries to look down at your face, but you’re pressed too tightly against his body. “Who? Who isn’t talking to you?”

“My parents,” you say and you miss the flicker of heartbreak on Jungwon’s face. 

Jungwon sucks in a deep breath, “Can you breathe with me for a second?” 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. His chest rises against yours as he takes a breath and you count to four as he holds it before letting it out. You let your thoughts slip away from you as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat and follow along with his breathing. A few minutes pass, but your crying slowly comes to a stop. Jungwon glances down at you.

“Let’s go get you back to bed,” he says softly. As you stare blankly in front of you, eyes tracing over the wet spot your eyes have left on his t-shirt over and over, circles and circles, his hands run over your arms again. “YN?”

Your eyes flutter a little, breaking out of the way you’d been spacing out, “Yeah… yeah, okay.” Maybe Jungwon doesn’t want to let go of you as you move to walk past him, but one of his hands pathetically tries to grab at your sleeve. You let it fall. And you ignore the pang of guilt you feel for the small action. Distantly, his footsteps follow you to the bathroom he shares with Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Riki. They’re not as loud as yours and you can tell he’s wearing socks. 

Crazy, you think to yourself lamely, how can someone sleep with socks on?

He waits until you’re both inside the bathroom, door swinging shut before he flicks the light on–the blaring, white flashes through the space, making both of you flinch from how bright it is. A gentle hand on your shoulder guides you to sit on the closed toilet as Jungwon moves to one of the drawers. Trying to provide yourself some comfort, you cross your arms over your stomach, hiding your hands in the long sleeves of the crewneck. 

“Here,” Jungwon whispers, crouching down in front of you as he offers you two of the dark purple gummies. You don’t meet his eyes as you take them, popping one in your mouth at a time and chewing slowly before swallowing. It takes thirty minutes for them to work. You don’t want to stay awake for thirty more minutes.

Jungwon sits on the tile of the bathroom floor, shoulder practically brushing your knee as he folds his own up to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. 

From the way he falls silent, you know he’s struggling with what to say. Whether it’s for the sake of simply breaking the silence or for trying to comfort you, you don’t care. You just want to hear his voice. Something that’s familiar, something that you can trust, and that you know will make you feel better. Because that’s always the way it’d been with Jungwon: easy. And not a lot of things felt easy anymore, so maybe you clung onto that and held him to that expectation a little too much, but you couldn’t help it. It was annoying, feeling useless in these scenarios. 

“Earlier,” Jungwon finally speaks up. Neither one of you looks at the other when he utters the small word, but you don’t have to. You know what he’s going to talk about and you don’t need to see the expression on his face as you hear the emotions in his voice. 

“What I was going to say was, I know what it’s like to have high expectations set for you. And I know how much it can destroy you when you don’t meet those expectations.” He sucks in a deep breath, but as he keeps talking, you hear the vulnerability slowly disappear. He was entering leader mode. This wasn’t the same Jungwon that was talking to you earlier, this Jungwon was trying to teach you something.

“Not for yourself, but for the people you wanted to meet those expectations for.”

You finally look at him. He’s staring at the wall and you count to ten before he blinks slowly. He looks tired and suddenly, you feel bad for having him stay with you like this. “I’m the one that’s hardest on myself. I do everything for myself.”

When Jungwon makes eye contact with you, you watch as walls begin to break down again. And you feel your own reservations fading as well.

“No, you don’t.” 

You hate that he’s right. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I met you… You make sacrifices for everyone, YN-ie, sometimes I feel like you make more than I do. And I’m the leader.”

“I care about you guys–”

“You think that the only way you can make us like you is if you do everything for us. If you act the way you think we want you to act.”

Okay.

It was too late at night to be analyzed like this and the day was too full of emotions and Jungwon’s words just make you angry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“You know how I grew up,” he continued. “With my grandma, because my parents were always busy. I know they loved me. I know they love me, but there were and are times when I’ve felt like I was never doing enough to be worthy of their love.”

“Jungwon, seriously–” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything around me anymore,” he pushes, voice soft. You hate the way that it almost seems like he’s being so careful with words all of a sudden after dropping everything on you like that. “Anything from us– we love you YN and we want you to trust us…”

“It’s not that simple…” 

This conversation isn’t going to progress anywhere else, that much you can tell. The melatonin may not fully be in effect yet, but you can feel the symptoms slowly start and you welcome the drowsiness wholeheartedly. With the way Jungwon looks at you, you know he’s thinking the same thing, and your eyes stay on his face as he pushes himself up from the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says and you wish you could tell him it’s okay. “I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean to be so… intense.”

When he offers you a hand, you take it, and he gently pulls you into another hug. It feels nice being held like this now that the onslaught of emotions from the previous couple of hours has passed through you. 

“I just. I just wish you could see what I see.” His voice is soft, and you nod against his chest, eyelids finally drooping. “D’you want to walk?”

Your voice is strained, “No.”

You don’t have to ask him to carry you, Jungwon’s already lifting you into his arms and turning off the bathroom light before exiting back out into the hallway. The silence is welcomed by you as he walks you back to your room, his arms strong around you, and you wonder when he’d grown up so much without you noticing. You feel your mind begin to drift, eyes falling shut as he carefully pushes your room’s door open, doing his best not to wake Sangmi. 

The warm and comforting touch of your bed causes you to melt into the sheets instantly as Jungwon lays you down. Subconsciously, you feel him lift your hair off your neck, knowing you hate the feeling of it rubbing against your skin while you sleep, and sense your covers being pulled up to your chin, another thing of comfort. 

You’re practically asleep when you feel his lips ghost over your forehead, the sensation is barely there, but you still feel it. 

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

You fall unconscious before you hear him say anything else.

Things between you and Jungwon don’t change in the slightest. In fact, neither of you bother to acknowledge what had happened a few nights ago. You don’t need to see his thoughts to know that the conversation is playing on a loop in his mind as well. There's the tiniest bit of tension like he’s walking on eggshells around you and is scared to say the wrong thing. It’s clear he feels bad for everything he’d said that night too, with how he’s begun focusing more and more of his attention on you–not letting you lift a finger to do anything. You were going to just let things fizzle out on their own, hopefully working up enough courage to talk to him about things, but Jay pushes things into motion before you can process it anymore. 

“I’m worried about Jungwon.”

You look up at him from your spot on his chest, resting your chin on him as you furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Jay brushes his thumb over your cheekbone as he looks at you. Awkwardly, you laugh a little, “What?”

“He seems like he’s throwing himself into things too much,” he explains.

You purse your lips a little, eyes flicking around his face while trying to tell what he’s thinking. “Elaborate.”

Jay huffs out a laugh. “I know he’s still getting used to being our leader, and he’s doing an amazing job but I think that he’s too focused on making sure everyone else is happy–”

“And not taking care of himself,” you finish, nodding slightly as you understand where your boyfriend’s coming from. Looking back over the past week, you can’t believe that you hadn’t noticed that yourself. Your observation skills were something you were extremely proud of, and the little signs of Jungwon coming back to the dorms later than the rest of the members, politely refusing to join the group’s activities because he was busy planning better ways to lead practice, and receiving hours upon hours of talks with your manager was something you should’ve put together sooner. 

You shift slightly to lay your head back down, and Jay’s arms wrap back around your middle. “I think you’re one of the only people he’ll listen to.”

“Oppa–”

“I’m being serious. I don’t know if it’s because you guys are closer in age or what, but he connects with you really well.” You weren’t really sure either, but you knew Jay was right. “Could you please talk to him? Not for me, but for him?”

His caring for the younger boy made your heart soften. It was one of the things you loved most about Jay–how attentive he was even if he didn’t always want to show it. Turning your head a little, you smile softly and nod, causing Jay to smile as well. 

“Of course.” He kisses you gently.

There’s no point in wasting time. Partly because you don’t know when you’re going to get a day off again and because you now have a growing concern for Jungwon. Later that day, your mind drifts back to that night where you’d both sat in the bathroom together as you stand in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as you wait for Jungwon to show his face in the dorms again. How could he ask you to not hide anything from him when he was hiding things from you? Well, not necessarily hiding, but neglecting. 

Sure, Jungwon and you still had a ways to go in terms of opening up to one another, but Jay was right in the sense that you guys connected on a level that you hadn’t with any of the others. Even Sunghoon and Jay. Cold water splashes over your hand as your water bottle overflows and instantly, you’re pulling away and mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted. 

Distantly though, you hear the familiar timber of your fellow 04-liner’s voice, followed by Jake’s accent. Leaving your water bottle on the counter, you exit the kitchen, going into the living room where they’re both standing together, huddled around Jungwon’s phone. 

“Hey,” you say and they both look up at you, their wide eyes making your heart stutter pathetically in your chest. “What’re you guys doing?”

Jungwon clears his throat, “Just… looking over schedules for tomorrow.” 

Oh, he’s definitely lying.

You raise the corners of your lips, doing your best to put on a charming smile as you move closer to them. “Jungwon-oppa are you doing anything else today?”

“Well–” 

“Perfect, can we go get coffee?” You don’t let him finish, and Jake laughs at the expression on Jungwon’s face. Jungwon’s eyes flick over to Jake and the elder immediately stifles his laugh, pressing his lips together in a way that you can tell he’s trying to hold back another bout of laughter. When Jungwon looks back at you, you can see the hesitance in his eyes. “Please? I wanted to talk to you about something,” you ask, trying to lay the pleading on thick to get him to agree. 

You can see the way your words and begging eyes begin to work on his mind, and it isn’t long before he’s nodding, muttering something about calling your manager. Jake’s arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a half hug as you smirk a little in satisfaction. Halfheartedly, you squeeze your arms around Jake, causing him to let out a small grunt before you move away from him, reaching to grab Jungwon’s arm.

“Let’s go, I haven’t had any caffeine all day and I’m starting to get a headache.”

Jungwon grumbles a little as you pull him along, shouting a small goodbye to Jake as you both begin to put your shoes and coats on. “That’s a sign of addiction. You���re having withdrawals.”

“Coffee is one of the safest things you could be addicted to.”

“Well–”

“Actually–”

“Stop cutting me off,” Jungwon laughs as he finishes zipping up his jacket, grabbing his wallet as well as a bucket hat and a black mask. 

You reach for the front door, opening it as you chuckle. “Sorry, Oppa.” Jungwon shakes his head, but his smile gives it away. You know it’s hard for him to even pretend to be mad at you. Because you feel the same way. He jokes with you as you get into the car, and during the drive to the coffee shop that you both frequent together, you’re the one who does most of the talking. It’s not like you, but you don’t really mind because you can tell Jungwon’s thinking about something. 

One of the staff trails along behind you and Jungwon as you enter the café, a subtle sense of protection as you stay close to the boy making you only have to worry about this upcoming conversation. The two of you order and wait off to the side for your drinks. Catching glimpses of Jungwon while the whirring of espresso machines and chatter resound throughout the room, you feel that mixture of worry and concern. It was only recently that you had experienced the same issue of ignoring your needs for others, so you had a feeling of what Jungwon was going through. That being said, only if Jay was actually right about what he’d been seeing with the younger man. 

With the icy feeling of your cold brew in hand, you loop your arm through one of Jungwon’s as you both exit the café, opting to go on a small walk before heading back to the dorms. For a moment, you take the chance to breathe, trying to deduct what to say before he ultimately beats you to it. 

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

You look up at him, the ice in your drink rattling against the cup with each of your steps. As convincingly as you can make it, you smile, “What? D’you not think I want to spend time with you?” He tilts his head a little, tufts of black hair peeking out from under his beanie.

“Not that, but Jake was right there too.”

“How observant of you.”

“Seriously, YN-ie.” His serious tone makes you awkwardly laugh, head turning straight forward again as you sip at your drink. Jungwon pauses for a moment before speaking up again, “Is this about what happened last week?”

You do your best to choose your words carefully. “Kind of. Figured we would have to talk about it eventually.”

Jungwon hums, “So we’re ripping off the bandaid?”

“Yes, we are,” you agree. Tightening your grip on his arm a little, you feel his phone buzz in the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungwon starts in a hushed voice, probably trying to keep the words between you and him and away from the prying ears of other people walking by the two of you. Thank goodness for face masks. “I think… I just think that I don’t really know how to comfort you yet.”

You shrug, “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was weird that you knew those things so easily, that’s all.”

Jungwon chuckles, “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“I never said I was mysterious.” You laugh along with him before the sound dies away. “Having people that see me so effortlessly, that understand me so quickly, it’s not something I’m used to.”

You can tell Jungwon is listening intently to you by the way his body is ever so slightly tilted toward yours. When you glance at his eyes, it’s clear he’s thinking deeply about something, maybe trying to piece your words together. Suddenly, you’re thankful for the fresh air as you take a deep breath.

“When I was growing up, I was moving around a lot–you know… New Zealand and France and Japan and I never really got to make super strong connections,” you say, eyes traveling over the trees that line one side of the sidewalk. “And I’m thankful for all of the experiences I’ve had, but I know that I’m shy and that I don’t really open up to people, but I think it’s because I’ve always felt like an outsider wherever I went.”

Cat-like eyes are on you, and you feel a wave of comfort as you lock your irises with him. 

“Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve learned how to trust you faster than most people.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a few steps and you sniffle awkwardly. “Don’t feel too special,” you push and his eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling a smile.

“I trust you too,” Jungwon says directly. His words help soothe you a bit. 

You clear your throat, “And you would tell me if you’re struggling, right?”

With the way Jungwon hesitates, you know he wouldn’t, and it’s hard for the thought to not make you a little sad.

“Maybe after I got past it,” he offers. “I know I tell you to tell me everything, but part of that is because you’re supposed to.” Your heart clenches in your chest. “I’m supposed to worry about you, take care of you. Not the other way around.”

This time, he looks away from you. “You know I care about you, Jungwon-oppa. Let me show it.” You pause before continuing, seeing how your words are affecting him and how the defensiveness in his body language slowly begins to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“Everything with this life is… a lot. I knew being an idol would be demanding but,” he pauses and you nod for him to keep going. “We haven’t even had our first comeback yet and I feel like I’m struggling more than normal.”

You squeeze his arm in a comforting manner. “Don’t be afraid to lean on us, Jungwon-oppa. We’re here to help you, you don’t need to be so strong all of the time.”

The sight of his wide eyes as he looks down at you has your heart soften in your chest. “But I’m not supposed to need your help. I was picked for this position despite my age and I have to show that I can do it–”

“I understand that your responsibilities are stressful and that you just want to help us but, Jungwon, someone needs to put you first if you’re not going to do that for yourself.”

Both of your steps have slowed, and you realize that you’re subconsciously trying to prolong this conversation before the pair of you make it back to the car. Condensation from your barely-touched drink collects on your palm, and the plastic feels slippery.

“I can be that someone for you, Junwong-oppa.”

He’s avoiding eye contact with you now. You don’t think the pink on his cheeks and ears is from the chilly air anymore. 

“Yes, our lives would’ve been different if we hadn’t decided to pursue this path–” you say, voice growing in volume as a kind of passion takes over you for him to listen to you. For Jungwon to understand. “My parents wouldn’t be so mad at me and you wouldn’t have so many responsibilities at such a young age, but we have to work through these struggles together…” 

Now, your steps have come to a halt and you pull on Jungwon’s arm for him to fully face you. “We can help each other, Oppa. Neither of us should have to fight these things on our own.” He looks hesitant, like he’s fighting between two different ideas. Desperate, you reach up, holding his cheek to get him to meet your eyes.

“Please.”

That single word is what breaks through his resistance, and you can’t help but let out a breath of relief as he slowly nods.

The date for the comeback was drawing closer at a greater speed than your debut. Which was weird. Sure, both were major milestones, but you thought that there would be more of a rush for Border: Day One. Considering the short turnaround after I-Land and all. Or maybe it was because of everything that’d been happening with your personal life. Honestly, you didn’t know anymore–much less care. 

There was nothing normal about your life, as much as you liked to pretend there was, nothing was normal. Not the fact that you had the blessing of being able to love two men at the same time, not your career, not the responsibilities you had at such a young age. But there were glimpses of a normal life at times, certain things that made you slip into the fantasy. Like Jungwon. 

When you were with each other, you’d agreed to let each other believe that you were just normal high school students. Was it healthy? Probably not, but it was a way you were helping each other cope, and that was all you could ask for with all of the pressure you both faced. There was no idol talk allowed. It was just YN and Jungwon. Even if you had to go to most places with a bodyguard. Although, those instances were becoming less and less. Because you both were getting really good at sneaking out. 

“Mmm… okay. If you were a kind of silverware, what would you be?” you ask him, taking another bite of your coconut ice cream and letting it melt on your tongue. It was becoming harder to come up with questions for each other, hence the ‘What if?’ game you’d been playing for the expanse of the night. 

The two of you continue walking along the mostly empty sidewalk. It was late at night, not many people were out and about and the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over Jungwon as you look over at him.

“Knife.”

You furrow your eyebrows and laugh a little at his answer. “Why?”

“Because I’m skinny and dangerous–”

“No, no, absolutely not,” you laugh loudly, leaning into his side at his words.

There’s a look of surprise on his face, his black face mask pulled down around his chin as he eats his vanilla ice cream. “What? I thought there were no wrong answers.”

“Well, that was a wrong answer–” Jungwon cuts you off as he bumps your shoulder with his, causing you to stumble away from him a bit. You watch as he bites back a laugh. “You think you’re sooo funny.”

Jungwon takes another bite of his dessert, “I am funny.”

You pout a little, falling back into his side. “Sometimes,” you mumble, stirring your ice cream around absentmindedly, “Not when you’re making fun of me though. Or shoving me.”

“Oh, please, I barely touched you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna be in trouble with Hoonie when he sees the giant bruise on my shoulder.” Jungwon lets out a scoff. When he looks over at you, you feel your heart leap at the cute smile on his face, his dimples prominent. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

You shrug, “Maybe you don’t know your own strength.”

Jungwon laughs, head falling forwards a little and some of his hair flops over his eyes. You picture yourself pushing it away, but you stop yourself. 

“I know Sunghoon-hyung’s strength. And Jay-hyung’s strength, and I wouldn’t be a match for either of them.”

Looking back down at your melting ice cream, you speak up again, “I think you might actually have a chance against Jay-oppa– Wait.” You stop walking, looking at Jungwon in surprise. 

Did he know about you and Jay?

How? You’d never told him. You weren’t planning on telling any of them for a while, considering how the relationship was still something you were getting used to. Sunghoon and Jay as well. But Jungwon just glances back at you like it’s the most casual thing in the world, not a hint of judgment in his brown eyes and you don’t know if you should be relieved or concerned.

“You know?”

Jungwon sighs softly, linking one of his arms with yours as he pulls you to start walking in the direction of the dorm again. You still gap at him, wide-eyed at how normal he seems. 

“I’ve been spending pretty much every day with you for like, two weeks. I would’ve been an idiot to not notice it.”

“And?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and for a moment, he almost looks sad. “And you love them. And they love you and I think that that’s the only thing that should matter.”

A wave of reassurance washes over you and suddenly, your chest feels much lighter. Your throat is less tight. “We were gonna tell you all eventually, I swear.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s okay, YN-ie, really. We aren’t obligated to know everything about you.

“But you– But we aren’t supposed to have any more secrets from each other,” you counter. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re trying to do. If you actually want him to be upset at you or not. After all, the guilt of lying to your members about your relationship had been building to a point where you were ready to burst. As you thought about it, it felt nice for someone else to know. Especially because that someone was Jungwon. 

His adam's-apple bobs as he swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “We both know that’s just wishful thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Hey…”

“What I want you to know is that you deserve all of the love in the world. You’re a special girl, YN, after everything you’ve been through you should accept the love they have for you. And I support it.”

A smile grows on your lips and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Wonnie.” And you really do mean it. Thankfully, the conversation drifts to other topics as you continue making your way back to the dorm. There’s a sense of relief in your heart. Happiness and… some kind of sadness whose source you aren’t aware of. More like it’s a source you’re not ready to confront yet. Instead, you let yourself enjoy Jungwon’s company. Listening to his laugh and the way he speaks, you notice that he sounds happier. Sounds more like himself and you let yourself believe that the time you’ve been spending with him has helped. 

Because it’s at least helped you.

The dorm is silent when you both come back, going through the steps of your sneaking-in/out routine without alerting any of the other members or manager. It’s hard though as you try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario and you find yourself not wanting to say goodnight to him. 

But you both take off your shoes and your coats and your hats and masks, and you both throw away your now empty ice cream cups. And then Jungwon says goodnight and you find it in yourself to mutter a small “Goodnight” back. 

When you make your way through the hallway and peek into your room, Sunghoon is still asleep in your bed, and Sangmi in hers. The giddy feeling in your heart only grows. Maybe Jungwon was right, you conclude as you gently shut the door behind you, heading towards your bathroom. Maybe you did deserve the love the world was finally beginning to offer you. 

You feel like you’re floating as you get ready for bed, a stupid smile on your face as you massage serums into your skin and brush your teeth hastily. The taste of coconut ice cream fights through the taste of mint and Jungwon’s face still bullies itself to the front of your mind and– Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Confused, you let your toothbrush hang in your mouth as you reach for your phone in your back pocket. When the screen lights up, you do a double-take at the contact that reads at the bottom of the device. 

Your first instinct is to throw your phone at the wall (funny, how that’s been your go-to move for the past couple of weeks), but then, you decide against it. Anger is a powerful emotion, and you find yourself rushing out of your bathroom in a fashion that was probably a little too loud to be considered careful. The walls and other familiar surroundings of the place you now call home blur past you as you practically run to Jungwon’s room. Trying to calm yourself down, you nudge the door open and peek your head into the room. Each of the boys are in their beds, but as your eyes find Jungwon, you can tell that he’s moving around too much to truly be asleep.

“Wonnie,” you whisper harshly. Nothing. So you whisper his name again, and again. Thankfully, on the third try, he lifts his head to look over at the door. His eyebrows furrow and the corner of his mouth lifts as a sign of confusion. Doing your best to stay quiet, you push the door open enough to wave him over. You think he grumbles something as he gets out of his bed and makes his way over to you, but you don’t really care.

You hand your phone over to him in an instant.

His eyes widen as he reads the contact. Mum.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” 

You don’t look over at him as the car continues moving down the street. “Me either.”

Your parents were in South Korea. To see you. They hadn’t been in contact since you told them you were joining I-Land. 

The turnaround from that text message and how long they were actually staying in the country was so short that you barely had any time to think about what you wanted to do. Part of you hated them, but the other part was unsure if you would ever get this opportunity again. 

Desperate for advice, two nights ago you and Jungwon had sat in the living room and talked things over until only a few hours were left in the night. You had wanted to involve Sunghoon and Jay as well, but it all just happened so fast. And Jungwon was the only one who knew about your issues with your family. Of course you would fill your boyfriends in with all of the details once this dreaded dinner was over, but for now, you were grateful that Jungwon was there with you.

He had been there for you for weeks, ever since your birthday. Even though you said you would be the one to help him, he was the one who’d actually helped. You wish you could put your gratitude for him into words, but you’d never been the best at explaining things. So you were letting him come with you. 

Your head was a mess and the anxiety in your stomach was even worse. You’d felt nervous over things before, but right now, you just felt sick. A woman’s intuition was never wrong, and yours was screaming at you to ask the staff to turn the car around and take you back home where you could have dinner with your real family. But you were an emotional person, and right now, your longing for approval and the memories from your childhood were trumping that tiny voice in your head that was telling you this was a mistake as the car parks in front of the restaurant. 

You sit there for a moment, silent. 

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” You still don’t look at him. You think you would burst into tears if you did. But your parents were waiting inside and you needed to give him an answer.

“Um. Sure.”

You can feel his eyes on you, the way he’s watching your hand tremble as you reach to open the car door. 

Trying to focus on your five senses instead of the thoughts in your head, you get out of the vehicle: the feeling of the spring night air, the sound of the bustling city, the taste of the blood in your mouth from chewing on your cheek too hard, the smell of the food wafting from the open door, the sight of Jungwon. He looked so strong, so sure as he stood next to you. You wish you could take a page from his book. But that’s what set the two of you apart–his ability to push his emotions down while yours led you to do things that probably wouldn’t help you in the long run.

He looks over at you and when your eyes meet, your heart stops and you feel strangely calm for a moment. You snap out of the daze just as quickly, though. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and tilt your head towards the restaurant, signaling him to follow you. And then your feet are moving towards the entrance. 

The place would be cute if you could actually focus on the design of the interior. You’d never been to this restaurant before, which didn’t surprise you, you couldn’t even begin to guess the number of places to eat in Seoul. But your parents had recommended this place. Probably because they’d eaten here before. Probably because it made them feel more comfortable. You couldn’t feel more out of place though, even as Jungwon reaches down to hold your hand. 

The sight of them sitting at a table knocks the air right out of your lungs, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. 

You watch as they look up and as the sight of recognition takes over their features. Swallowing harshly, you force a small smile as they both grin and rush over to you. Your mum doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug, breaking your hold on Jungwon which makes you panic a little.

“Oh, my baby! I missed you so much!” She pulls back and you can’t help but want to believe her as you take in the sight of her face. She’s barely aged, but you’re significantly taller than her now. The smile on your face feels painful.

“Hi, mama.” Her eyes don’t change as you speak–they’re still crinkled in the corners as she takes in the sight of your face after only seeing it through screens for months. Behind you, Jungwon clears his throat, an effective form of breaking you out of your daze. 

“Oh,” you say softly, moving away from her and reaching for Jungwon. Gently ushering him towards your mother, you watch as he also forces a small smile. “This is Jungwon.”

Your mother’s face hardens at the sight of your group member. “Jungwon-ssi… Nice to meet you,” she says in broken Korean.

“You too, Mrs Aoki.” He’s so polite. The epitome of control despite the way you can see his fists clench as he greets her with a bow. Your mother nods in approval, but you can see the questions behind her eyes. The primary one being: ‘Why is he here?’ Her speculation makes anger simmer in you and to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret, you begin to move towards the table.

“Let’s sit.” The four of you take your spots at the table, drinks already sitting on the surface and you watch as one of the workers comes over to take your orders for what foods you all would want for the grill. Jungwon does a majority of the ordering, you too focused on trying to process everything that’s happening and your parents aren’t exactly fluent in the language you’d begun to use on a daily basis. 

You look over to your father, who’s already sipping on a beer which isn’t a surprise to you. Alcohol tended to put him in a better mood. Which would be especially helpful during heavy conversations just like this upcoming one. “Hi, dad.”

You may take after your mother, but you can see your eyes in his own as he makes eye contact with you, expression unchanged. Then over at Jungwon, then back at you. “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him,” you state the obvious, reaching for your water to try and swallow the lump in your throat. “Thought it might make things a little less awkward.” Jungwon looks at you as you speak, dark brown eyes reading confusion and you try to offer him what’s hopefully a comforting smile. 

“He cannot speak English. Cannot contribute to the conversation.”

“Dad–”

Your mother thankfully intervenes before your father can critique your decision any further, “Chiharu, I thought we agreed that this would be a dinner without conflict.” It was a bit surprising that she was trying to keep the peace. Clearly she had gotten used to standing up to your father during the years you’d been gone. The elder man looks over at Jungwon again before begrudgingly jerking his head in a sharp nod. You let out a breath of relief. Maybe he wasn’t happy that Jungwon was here, but at least now he wasn’t going to throw a fit about it.

Under the table, your hand scrambles to hold onto Jungwon’s, desperate for some kind of comfort despite only having been in your parent’s presence for a minimum of ten minutes. Trying to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of Jungwon’s larger hand surrounding your own. “Speaking of conversations, what’s the point of this sudden meet-up anyway?”

It was unsettling how that smile had yet to falter on your mother’s face.

“We were just in the country and we thought we’d reach out. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, after all.” The frustration in your chest was so overwhelming that you thought you might start crying. How could they come to you like nothing had happened? Like nothing was wrong?

“You were just… in Korea?” You furrow your eyebrows as you look at your mum. Out of the corner of your eye, your dad finishes his drink. “You live in New Zealand. That’s like a 15-hour flight away.” Subconsciously, your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens as your other elbow comes to rest on the table and you lean closer to them. 

The sound of your father’s glass being set on the wood is harsh. “Why can we not come see the country you seem to be so taken with?”

You fight the urge to let out a loud sigh, already on edge from the way your father had treated Jungwon. Not to mention the way they’d treated you and now were acting like nothing had happened. Starting an argument with them was pointless, especially when (as much as you hated to admit it) you’d missed them dearly and they had finally made an effort to reach out to you. 

“Never said you couldn’t, but Dad, it’s not like you to want to travel anywhere other than Napier… Since you and grandma seem to think that everywhere else is dangerous.” The look sent your way from the man is a warning, so you go quiet again as the food is finally brought to the table. Jungwon drops your hand, getting to work on turning on the grill and watching the surface as it begins to heat up. 

“How’s it going?” he whispers to you as you both help the server to place the several dishes of vegetables and meat on the table. 

Your appetite seems to be gone though. What a waste. “Not great,” you mumble back as your mum speaks up again.

“So. YN, tell us how the past few years have been treating you.”

Clenching your jaw, you force a smile, “I can’t say that it’s been easy starting a new life for myself here, but I don’t think I would’ve wanted things any other way–”

“I don’t know why you have to see this music thing through,” she sighs softly, a look of pity in her eyes. “You’re so young. You should come back to New Zealand.”

This. This is what you didn’t miss. 

How they tried to keep you so sheltered from the world and from pursuing what you truly wanted. How they only deemed what they saw fit for you as okay. How they only thought that Napier was the place for you. 

“Can’t do that mum.”

“Oh, sure you can…”

It was getting harder and harder to not speak harshly with her. Sometimes that seemed to be the only way to get things through her head–by being stern with her. It felt like she was the kid, not you sometimes. “No, I can’t. I signed a contract. I’m in a group now.”

“Then terminate the contract.”

“Mum–”

“You should listen to your mother, YN,” your father says, in clear agreement with his wife. “You know, I was reading in the news the other day–”

“Do you both understand that I have a life here now?” The tone of your voice finally has that sting that you’d been holding back, tired of them only thinking of themselves. “That I have people that I love here. And a job. And a home?” They both look at you with curious eyes as Jungwon begins cooking some of the food. 

“You’re seventeen. You know we’re just trying to do what we think is best for you and honestly, YN, you know this music thing won’t work out–”

“God, do you even know me anymore?” You say sharply. You were stupid to think that meeting with them would change anything. They were still too stuck in the past and unwilling to see your point of view to try and make any effort to understand you. “Have you bothered to see what my group has been doing? Because I hate to break it to you because this ‘music thing’ seems to be working out just fine.”

“Of course we know you, YN–” your father starts and that seems to be the final thing to force you over the edge.

“Then where was my birthday message?” Your bottom lip wobbles a little and you realize how loud your voice had gotten. Looking around at the few other customers in the restaurant, you sink back in your seat, lowering your voice to a soft, almost whisper. “My birthday,” you have to take another deep breath to keep your emotions from boiling over even more. “My birthday, and not even then can you guys acknowledge me. Why? Because you don’t like that I’m following my dreams?”

“You know that we do not approve of this decision and we thought that we’d give you another chance to consider things–”

“You don’t approve of it, or he doesn’t approve of it?” Your eyes snap over to your mother, nose crinkling a little like it usually does when you’re angry.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” your father states, the anger that’s so similar to yours in his own voice. You’re used to the feeling of the tears welling up in your eyes as you’re left in silence again. 

Sniffling softly, you avert your eyes from them. “I don’t want to speak to either of you again unless you actually are ready to listen to me,” you mumble. 

Poor Jungwon has been cooking the food this entire time, maybe taking a few bites now and then as he listened to you and your parents argue. You feel your heart soften as you see the sight of him looking so out of place. You’re sure you look the same. Tangling your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush it out, you stand. 

“I’m ready to go, Oppa.”

Jungwon looks up at you and when his eyes meet yours, he nods in understanding. Without another word, he’s standing next to you. As you both begin walking away from the table, your parents don’t bother to try and call out to you, which only finalizes it for you. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want a life with them in it right now. Maybe, in a few more years from now, they’d be able to accept you and you wouldn’t be stubborn enough to completely ignore their words, but that time wasn’t now. All you knew was that everything you needed, you already had. That much was clear as you and Jungwon make it back to the car and as he holds you while you sob your heart out for the rest of the way home.

When you arrive back at the dorms you practically run to find Sunghoon and Jay to explain everything that had been happening concerning your family for the past few weeks–the missed birthday, the feeling of homesickness, the failed dinner, and they listen. Held between the two of them in Sunghoon’s bed you’ve never felt safer. And they don’t get angry at you for not telling them or for confiding in Jungwon, they simply show you the love that you need. They accept you for who you are, which is all you’ve ever wanted.

You fall asleep that night being held by them, exhausted from the emotional trainwreck that was your family.

The lights in your room are off as you do your best to put away laundry. 

The sun had barely begun to set outside, but you were still doing your best to try and get ready for bed considering you would have to be up and moving at a little after midnight for the beginning of the pre-recordings for the Drunk-Dazed comeback the next day. Tasks like these helped to calm your mind. They were repetitive and you could control what you were doing. Plus, there was something satisfying about getting things done. It made you feel good to be productive. 

It was like you always had to be moving nowadays anyway. If you sat still or didn’t have anything to keep your hands moving, you would have to start to think about things you didn’t want to think about. Like your parents. Like being an idol. Having doubts was scary and hearing those uncertainties from your parents only made things worse for you. Because now, you were beginning to second guess if this was the right path for you. If you were making a mistake. 

In the glow of a single bedside table salt lamp, you hang up the last of your sweaters. It would be warming up soon outside. You wouldn’t get to wear them as often which kind of upset you–

“Hey.” The familiar timbre of the voice makes your heart race as you look over your shoulder to the door. Jungwon’s standing at the entrance of your bedroom, clad in gray sweatpants and a crew neck with some kind of teddy bear on it. You offer him a closed-lip smile before you go back to finishing up with your laundry. 

“Hi.”

He takes that as a sign to come into the room, shuffling over to your bed before practically throwing himself onto the duvet. One of your Cinnamoroll plushies falls onto the floor and you send him a teasing warning glance. He only chuckles. 

“Pick him back up, please.” The boy on your bed groans, but he complies with your request, reaching for the plushie before setting it next to him against the pillows. 

“I see you’re in cleaning mode.”

You huff softly and close your closet. “It’s relaxing–”

“You’re crazy for saying that,” he pauses as you approach your bed. “Wanna clean my room next?”

Taking one of your pillows, you smack it over his head and he lets out a loud laugh, wrestling the pillow away from you. It’s hard to pretend to be annoyed with him when big eyes are looking up at you, making your heart soften in a way that comes with an emotion you’re too familiar with. One that you still aren’t ready to confront yet.

“You can’t call me crazy and then ask me to clean your room,” you mumble. Jungwon tilts his head a little, the corner of his mouth raising as you continue to grip the pillow. When he tugs it again, you’re falling on the bed next to him, laughing loudly. 

“What if I use my leader voice?”

“Then I’m not going to step in your room for the rest of the year.”

The smile on his face makes a rush of warmth go through you. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Jay-hyung shares that room with me so–”

You smack his chest gently, “Okay, enough.” The two of you laugh quietly again before the room falls into silence. Jungwon’s weight settles onto the bed next to you, moving gently and cautiously as if he’s afraid. Your eyes stay on the ceiling. He lies on his back, his body just inches away from your own, and you feel an almost electric sensation run through you. The heat of his being is so close, the scent of his skin filling your nose, and you can’t help but let out a slow, shaky breath, trying desperately to control your racing thoughts and emotions. 

He hesitates before speaking, “How are you doing?”

The feeling of being at a loss for words around him is one you’re not accustomed to. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Oppa.” It’s like you can almost hear him roll his eyes. When you look over at him, one side of his mouth is lifted into a smirk before it drops down as soon as it appeared.

“With… you know your parents.”

“I feel…” You look back up at the ceiling. “Is it bad that it felt good to yell at them?”

Jungwon sucks in a small breath. “No. I didn’t understand much, but you should’ve done more than just yell at them.”

“Like what? Flip the table?” He laughs.

“No, I mean, not give the time of day to begin with.”

You know he’s probably right, but it was more complicated than that. Your freshly washed bedding is still a little warm under your body. “But you understand why I did.”

“Of course I do.” The weight of his eyes on you is a heavy one, but it’s one that you don’t reject. Just one that you chose to ignore. “I understand you more than you think.”

Your heart feels like it’s beginning to beat out of your chest as you swallow thickly. “Thank you for being there for me,” you pause to try to calm the swirling hurricane that is your mind. “I know you kind of have to be, but–”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” he whispers. “I have to do things for the benefit of everyone else, but I did this for me. Because I wanted to.”

The air in your throat hitches. You don’t look over at him–you can’t. If you did, things would forever be different between the two of you.

Without words, you can tell Jungwon’s thoughts are locked on whether this is right or not: two friends lying in the same bed because yours are too. You’re in a committed relationship with two other men, two other of your bandmates, but the urge to turn and wrap your arms around him is overwhelming. Your knuckles are practically brushing against his as you restrain yourself, and you can feel him clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides with the effort to keep still. The feeling of him looking at you leaves with the sound of his head moving against one of your pillows. So you take the chance to glance at him, your eyes tracing his features, taking in the sight of his resting face just next to you in the low light.

As you both lie there in silence, the urge to touch him becomes nearly unbearable. Jungwon’s hand twitches slightly, and your fingers itch to reach out and touch his skin, but you hold back, knowing you shouldn’t. Knowing that this has already gone too far. You hear him let out a slow, shaky breath of his own, unaware of the way he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions and memories raging inside him. 

You can feel the heat of Jungwon’s skin so close to yours, and with every second it becomes harder and harder to resist the urge to touch him. Your eyes scan his face, taking in every feature, every soft detail, every little imperfection that you find beautiful. It feels like an eternity passes of just you both lying there, listening to each other’s breaths in the quiet of your room before Jungwon finally gives in. Slowly, his hand moves to lace his fingers with yours. 

These hesitances wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t something more than friendship between the two of you.

It’s without saying, you both understand each other. More than you ever had before.

And he stays with you as the sun completely sets, the room falling into darkness. You don’t remember falling asleep next to him, but when you wake up to your alarm later in the night, he’s nowhere to be found.

-

The process of a comeback show is just as (if not more) busy than Enhypen’s debut. Sleep is fought out of your mind by excitement, nervousness, and anticipation, and you can’t find the energy to feel tired. Dark coffee helps, buzzing your neurons back to life, but it also makes your jitters worse, and as you sit in the makeup chair, you have to sit on your hands to stop them from shaking. 

Your members move hastily around you in the process of getting ready as well, staff bustling with a variety of objects. You were thankful for the distraction of the makeup brush on your face. And for Sunghoon’s voice. It was rare for him to talk so freely, even to you, but he must’ve sensed your troubled emotions. You wondered if he would still act like this with you if he knew the things you were contemplating. 

Final touches of glitter are scattered under your eyes before you’re given the go-ahead to relax or do whatever you needed to before you were all needed for the pre-recording. So you stay with Sunghoon.

“I feel greedy,” you mumble quietly as you shuffle over to the couch he’s sitting on and falling into the space next to him. His face shows little emotion as he helps you place your legs over his lap.

“Is this your way of telling me you feel bad for eating the rest of my ice cream?”

“That wasn’t me and you know it.” One of his hands squeezes your thigh in a comforting manner when he doesn’t see you crack a smile at his words. 

“Then what’s going on?”

You purse your lips a little as you try to think of how to word this. “Do you think that I take up too much of everyone’s time?” His eyebrows furrow as you look over at him. “I mean like– sometimes I feel like people drop everything because I’m too dramatic.”

“You’re not dramatic,” Sunghoon pauses and his eyes never leave yours. The sight of his warm brown irises has your heart melting in your chest and you can’t fight the small smile that grows on your face. “Well. Maybe sometimes. But in a cute way, don’t worry I’m not put off by it.”

You laugh softly, smacking his shoulder gently. “I’m serious, Hoon. You would tell me if I was bothering you right?”

He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, bringing your hand closer to his face to kiss the back of your hand in a comforting manner. “I’m serious too. I help you because I love you. We don’t owe each other anything, it’s just… me–and Jay–taking care of you because we want to.” He kisses your hand again. “That’s it.”

Sunghoon’s words manage to soothe some of your worries, but like always, once those little voices in the back of your head start, it’s difficult to get rid of them. Trying to push some of the stress away for the sake of the comeback (and everyone else), you nod. 

“So no pick-me scandals?”

When Sunghoon smiles, his head tilts back a little and you get a clear view of his cute fangs. “I don’t know about that–”

“YN-ssi?” The staff that calls your name from the doorway has little emotion in her voice. All business. Just the way it should be. Resisting the urge to groan from your time with Sunghoon being interrupted, you quickly kiss him before getting up from the couch to look over at her. She’s focused on a clipboard in her hands, scanning the papers thoroughly and she speaks without even glancing at you as you approach her. 

“Do you know a Denise Aoki?”

Your eyebrows furrow as your steps falter. Confusion overpowers anything else you’d been feeling in the past few minutes. “Yes… that’s my mum.” But she wouldn’t be here, you think to yourself, standing awkwardly in the doorway. The staff doesn’t give you any sort of reaction as she looks up at you from her clipboard.

“There’s a woman here with her name requesting to see you.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you doesn’t believe it. Why would your mum come to a comeback show for your group when she’d expressed her dislike for your career so recently? You were too busy to speak with her anyway. At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself as you stare blankly at the woman. 

You’re both silent for a moment before the staff member speaks up, “Do you want me to bring you to her? There’s only about an hour and a half left before you’re due on stage.”

Anxiety rushes through your bloodstream as you debate on what to do. Your family had been kept a secret from fans even with their insane stalking skills, so it wouldn’t be possible for one of them to pretend to be your mother. But why was she here then? It was something you needed to find out for yourself, so in all honesty, it wasn’t even a debate. You nod a little. 

“Just for a moment, if that’s allowed.”

The staff gives you a curt nod of her own before gesturing you to follow her. “I’ll stay with you while you both are visiting for your safety.”

“Thank you,” you say softly as you continue through the hallways of backstage M Countdown. You’re guided into a small meeting room that’s a bit out of the way from the dressing rooms and sure enough, through the door is your mother. She’s not sitting in one of the many chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room, instead, she’s standing there. Knowing your mum, she’d most likely been pacing, hands clutching onto her purse as she waited. You weren’t even sure how she could be back here–security and all. 

You eye her carefully as the staff steps into the room behind you, closing the door. “What’re you doing here?” It’s like she doesn’t know why she’s shown up either, with the way she opens her mouth and then closes it. An exasperated sigh leaves you, “Nothing to say. Can’t even make your own decisions without Dad.”

“YN,” she says weakly. A part of you doesn’t want to hear it, not after she didn’t bother sticking up for you against your father. For the past year, sure, but especially after that dinner. You knew you deserved better than that, but why did it feel like you were glued to your spot? “I’m here because I don’t agree with your father.” Surely you heard her wrong.

“What?”

“You were right,” she says so quietly that you could barely hear her. “At dinner. Everything you said. We don’t know who you are anymore and I hate myself for it.”

No way this was happening. Not now. You had more important things to do than worry about your non-existent relationship with your parents. Like the comeback stage that you were probably supposed to be prepping for right about now. “Don’t say that. Not now. It’s not fair.”

You watch as her face morphs into a pained expression. 

“Mum, you’ve had so many opportunities to try with me and you haven’t!” the cry slips from your mouth before you can stop it. “I’m done giving you chances!”

“YN, this is me trying!” This was too much. Too much to process on a day that was already stressful for different reasons. Too much with all of the other thoughts already spiraling in your head that had to do with the comeback, and the pre-stage nerves, and how Jungwon had looked at you the previous night. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you have to blink harshly to stop them from falling. “I’m here! I’m here, and I’m talking to you and I want to watch you perform–”

“Don’t,” you cut her off. “Not today.” She falls silent and it takes you a moment to realize that she’s actually listening to you. You clear your throat in an attempt to make the lump in it disappear. “If you really want to be a part of my life again, it can’t be today, I have too much– going on.” Your mum nods, a flicker of relief passing over her face. “You can start by calling me instead of showing up out of the blue.”

“Calling you. Okay, I can call you,” she whispers mostly to herself. 

“But this doesn’t mean that you’re forgiven, mum.”

The hope in her eyes dims a little and for a second, you notice how much your eyes have started to look like hers. Maybe not physically, but in the way you expressed emotions. “I know…” The two of you stand there silently for a moment, and you remember that there’s a staff member in the room with you. Not that it made anything more awkward than it already was. She sucks in a small breath before speaking up again, “Can I hug you?”

If you tried to talk, you would probably start crying, so you offer her a small nod. Her arms are around you before you can process it. God, was she this short the last time you hugged her? Your eyes water again at the familiar feeling of being held by her and you sniffle weakly. “Thank you for trying, Mama.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to,” she says and a few tears escape your eyes. Her hands run over your back one more time and her arms tighten before she reluctantly lets you go. With watery eyes, you watch as she glances at the staff waiting by the door. “You should probably get going. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

You shake your head as you dab at your eyes with the heel of your hand. A lame attempt to avoid ruining your makeup. It was probably already ruined anyway. 

“This wasn’t a waste of my time.” The staff member approaches you, carefully reaching out to take your arm.

“They need you for final touch-ups.”

You nod in acknowledgment and take one final look at your mum. Love you, she mouths softly and you needed to get out of that room before you broke down in tears. Thankfully, the staff is quick to lead you back out into the hallway. Thankfully, the space is mostly empty, with only a few stray workers bustling up and down the corridors, too focused on their tasks to pay attention to you. 

By the time you return to Enhypen’s green room, you’ve been able to pull yourself together in terms of crying. The sadness and frustration in your heart had morphed into a sour mood, and with everything moving around you at a fast pace, it didn’t take long for you to become overwhelmed with all of the sounds and bright lights and all of the hands that just wouldn’t stop touching you.

Someone was adjusting your mic pack, another was fixing your eye makeup, and there was another staff fluffing your hair. The feelings were just too much. Instantly, your eyes search for Sunghoon and Jay, but they’re occupied too. Sangmi’s going over the choreography with Sunoo and the lack of comfort you were receiving made your eyes tear up again. It’s not like you were searching for attention, but after everything that's happened with your family and your other relationships this month, you were beginning to regret not sharing your worries and struggles with more people. 

Then you would’ve had a better chance at being able to talk to someone about the unexpected appearance of your mum. Here. At your group’s comeback showcase. 

Jungwon. You needed Jungwon. 

The lace fabric of the tights you were wearing suddenly felt too itchy, the rings on your fingers too tight, the air in your lungs not enough to breathe. Shakily, you push the pair of hands adjusting your mic pack away from you. You didn’t want to be touched, it felt like too much. “Don’t touch me,” you snap. One of the staff’s eyes widens at your sudden comment, drawing her hands away to her sides. Guilt immediately consumes your stomach, but the apology gets caught in your throat as the other two workers remove their hands from you too. 

Next to you, you feel Jake’s eyes catch on you. “You okay, YN-ie?”

No, you were not okay. There were too many people in this room and there were too many thoughts and emotions in your head. 

“I can’t breathe,” you pant softly and Jake’s face enters your vision, his brown eyes filled with concern. His pink lips part and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say. 

“YN, what’s wrong?” He asks, hands moving to try and hold your shoulders to stop your trembling. In a panicked fashion, you push him away.

“Don’t touch me!” That came out louder than expected. 

At least some of the loud noises stop as you feel several pairs of eyes turn to you. Being the center of attention only increases your agitation. Fresh air was the only thing that could at least fix your anxiety right now. Then you would try to fix everything else. That was the only thought that helped as you rushed back into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind you. 

You don’t process the sound of the door opening again and footsteps rushing to follow you until there are hands on your arms. Your first instinct is to push the person away, but then your back meets the wall behind you, the front of a body being pressed against yours and surprisingly, the close contact isn’t overwhelming. 

“Close your eyes.” Jake’s grip on you is borderline painful, but the compression is surprisingly relaxing. Like there’s less room for something else to touch you, your anxieties suffocating as he holds you. Quickly, you close your eyes, knowing it’s probably to shield you from any bright lights.

One of his hands takes yours, pressing it against his chest. His heartbeat erupts against your palm, the rate a bit faster than normal, but the steadiness gives you something to focus on. Slowly, the panic and irritation you were feeling begin to seep away into a more relieved state. The air was coming into your lungs easily now. 

“Good. Good job,” he says softly, accent soothing to your ears. “Breathe with me for a second.” Jake’s lungs expand under your hand and you copy the action, sucking in a deep breath. He holds it for a moment before deliberately releasing it. You do the same, through your mouth, and the fogginess in your brain begins to dissipate. You take another breath along with him, eyes fluttering open to find his face close to yours. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care that your noses are almost brushing as the last of your stress calms. Silence grips you for another moment before you nod as a little signal that you’re okay.

“What’re you guys doing?” Jungwon. You’d never heard him this angry before. Hesitantly, you turn your head to look over at him. He’s followed by your manager. God, you hope he wasn’t getting in trouble with the way you’d reacted just moments ago. “The entire show is being held up because of you, YN!”

Jake’s hands tighten on your arms as he stands a little straighter, putting some distance between the two of you. “Jungwon–”

“I was gone for like two seconds,” you grumble, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but you didn’t feel like being scolded now. Especially since you’d just calmed down. “I needed air.”

Jungwon stops in front of you and Jake, and you watch as his eyes size up the way the older boy is holding onto you. His eyes harden a little, but he doesn’t say anything about how you’re practically pinned against the wall now. Jungwon’s eyes look back at you.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, YN-ah.” Your eyebrows raise a little at his comment. Gently, you push Jake away by turning to face Jungwon, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can’t expect everyone to drop everything for you just because you’re feeling a little overwhelmed.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick over to Jake as he speaks. Your irritation returns tenfold. How could he say that after he’d practically spent this entire month helping you through things with your parents? After you’d trusted him over your own boyfriends to comfort you through such a personal problem?

“You didn’t have a problem dropping everything for me last night?”

“Okay–” Jake starts, only for Jungwon to cut him off.

“Because it’s like you need someone to think for you all of the time!–” A few staff passing by glance at the scene you’re putting on, but you don’t care. Your manager does though, considering the way he moves to stand between you and Jungwon.

“YN-ssi, you need to go back and apologize to the staff as soon as possible,” your manager says firmly. He’s disappointed in you. Your irritation lessens slightly, but you’re still fuming from Jungwon’s words. 

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Fine.”

“Should stop acting so ungrateful too,” Jungwon murmurs and your head snaps over to him. 

“Jungwon-ssi–”

“No, Jungwon, go ahead,” you scoff, sidestepping your manager to look at the boy. There’s a flicker of something you can’t quite identify in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath. 

“You’re going to Jake-hyung for comfort now, too?”

A rush of hurt goes through you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungwon doesn’t say anything, lowering his eyes to the floor. A mix between a laugh and a scoff escapes you. “This isn’t even about me being ‘rude’ to the staff, it’s about me and Jake.”

Jungwon’s head snaps up to look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, only for your group to be called to the stage.

So. You might’ve had a problem with running away when things got to be upsetting for you. You just liked to blame it on the fact that you lived with eight other people and it was rare for you to get your much-needed alone time. As you’ve already established. Along with the fact that you had been doing better. You really had been getting everything back together and then the world just decided to turn against you again. 

Maybe you were just being dramatic. Or maybe, everything Jungwon said about you being ungrateful was right. 

Thankfully, the performances had gone smoothly. You’d apologized to the staff after the recordings had finished and they’d forgiven you easily, being understanding of how you were still new to the industry and therefore having hands constantly on you without warning. Everything had been patched up thanks to your manager. Except for your fight with Jungwon. Talking with Sunghoon and Jay about your mother’s unexpected visit had helped, they’d given you the comfort and love you had needed but you still felt bad about everything said between you and the leader of your group. You were mad at yourself for picking the fight with him in the first place and hurt by the things he’d said.

Being outside and by yourself helped, though. Jake had been able to sneak you out without your manager noticing. He’d claimed it was just because he was there and willing, but you knew it was because he felt guilty about what had happened between you and Jungwon. He was the only one who knew where you were, so he was the only person who could’ve told said leader about how you were taking a walk along the Han River. 

Said leader who was running towards you now. 

Letting out a small huff, you continue your pace, not that Jungwon had any trouble catching up to you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jungwon pants softly. “YN please–”

“Did Jake make you come find me or did you ask him.” You refused to look at him. You’d forgone a jacket tonight, the late April air was more humid than usual which probably meant that it was going to rain soon. 

Your steps fall in time with his like it’s second nature. Out of pettiness, you slow your walk, only for Jungwon to copy the action. “I asked him,” Jungwon says. “Please, YN-ie, I feel horrible–”

“Did you actually mean the things you said earlier?” A couple walking their dog passes by you both. “Those comments weren’t just out of the blue, those were specific things. Like you’d already been thinking about them.” Jungwon doesn’t say anything as you look up at him. That’s all the answer you need. You scoff softly, “Right.”

“I was angry,” Jungwon says slowly like he’s choosing his words carefully. And he should. You felt like slapping him. “It was wrong of me to say those things and I’m sorry.”

The streetlamps lining the path shine brightly in the night, making your eyes water. Or maybe you were just going to start crying again. That’s all it felt like you did these days, cry. You were tired of it. 

“You were acting ungrateful today, but you had your reasons.” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t think you’re an ungrateful person and I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were upset.” That was a little better of an apology. “I just– I was jealous that Jake was the one comforting you.”

“I was looking for you,” you admit quietly. Another beat of silence as you both continue walking at a normal pace now. “You were the one I’d wanted in that moment. I was so overwhelmed and I couldn’t breathe, and I wanted you, but you weren’t there.”

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours and he lets out a small sigh when he sees how yours are watering. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You let him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’ll always be there from now on. Okay?” 

You nod, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his body. “Okay.” Sniffling softly, you speak up again. “And you have no right to be jealous. We’re not dating or anything.” His body stiffens for a split second before he relaxes again. He probably doesn’t think you notice it, but you do.

“I know.” A small raindrop lands on your cheek, but you don’t bother to wipe it away. 

“The reason I was upset was because my mum showed up at the music show.” Jungwon stiffens as he looks down at you.

“That’s allowed?” 

You smile weakly, “I guess so. But I talked to her and she said that she actually wanted to try. Unlike my dad.”

“And you’re going to let her?” You nod. Another raindrop falls. Then another. It was probably going to start pouring soon, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want to leave this moment. Just you and Jungwon and the river.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw her make such a big decision by herself. It’s always been her following my dad.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. “I think she really means it this time.”

The sprinkle of rain increases to a drizzle and Jungwon’s arm tightens around you, like he’s trying to shield you from the water. “I’m proud of you, YN-ie. For how you’ve dealt with them and how you’re not forgiving them just like that.”

“They don’t deserve that. Not yet,” you agree. 

Jungwon hums softly. “You can always talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything.” The rain has steadily increased now, and Jungwon pauses in his tracks, stopping you with him. “Here,” he mumbles, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your head like your hair’s not already wet. Both of you are soaked. Your sweater and his long-sleeved shirt are sopping wet with rainwater, his hair falling over his forehead in dark brown strands. 

You stand there, chest to chest with him as you look into his eyes. They’re so pretty, the dark brown color and the sharp lines that crinkle when he smiles and laughs. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning in closer to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. 

“Are we… okay?” He asks, pulling back a little to look down at you, his arms still tight around your waist and you ignore the way it makes your heart race and your skin tingle. 

The corners of your lips turn up in a tiny smile, “I forgive you, Wonnie.”

When the next morning comes, you wake up alone. Which is strange, considering you fell asleep in your bed, cuddled close with Sunghoon and Jay. 

You don’t bother pondering on it for too long, though. This is the best you’ve felt waking up in a long time. A special kind of lightness flutters in your chest. One made up of love and relief. Your relationship with Sunghoon and Jay was thriving, you’d made up with Jungwon, your mum was making an effort to be back in your life, and Enhypen’s first comeback show was successful. Today was going to be a mostly free day too, only a scheduled live and the usual practices. 

Sitting up in your bed, you stretch your arms above your head, cracking your back to get the rest of the sleep out of your spine. Going through your morning routine as usual, you slip out of bed and go straight to your bathroom. Throughout your skincare, and all of the other self-care rituals you were so fond of in the mornings, the good feeling doesn’t go away and you decide to stay in your pajamas for breakfast. 

You exit your bathroom, humming softly to yourself as you hope that everyone stayed away from the cinnamon rolls you’d bought a few days ago. Or at least, that one was left for you to have–

The sight of all eight of your members sitting in the living room startles you slightly. It’s common for the nine of you to spend the majority of your time together but it wasn’t common for them to look so serious.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you enter the living room. “Everything okay?” Heeseung shoots a glare at Jungwon, who grimaces slightly. Then, the eldest motions for you to come sit down too. “You guys are acting weird–”

“Someone saw you and Jungwon last night,” Jay says sharply, his tone harsh. “Pictures are practically everywhere you look.”

Your good mood is gone instantly, all happiness draining from your body and being replaced with a kind of jitteriness that can only be described as nervousness. Were they mad? God, of course they were mad. Sunghoon and Jay– They couldn’t be happy about this. Something like this coming out so soon after a comeback? You were going to be in so much trouble. And Jungwon. The company was going to tear you both apart for this. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart as Jake offers you a weak smile. “A dating scandal, huh,” you realize lamely. 

You were so fucked.

✉️ omg a mari post? it's been like a year, my babies, I've missed you so xx sorry if this is bad, but I'm pretty happy with it. didn't intend for it to be this long, but o well. hope you guys enjoy and I love you <3

[theothervonkarmagirl]

🍭🍭FLAPPIN'JACK FLASH🍭🍭

A brief on Clara's beloved Pegasus. U v U

He is a showoff. When lots of people are watching, he will strut or fly around like he owns the place. He likes to sprint and jet around, and Clara swears he will look at you like, "I'm the fastest Pegasus in the world!"

When there are only a few people, or he is only around other pegasi or horses, he'll act like he isn't paid enough to listen to you. He will decide in 5 seconds if he likes you riding him or not, and if not, he will DRAMATICALLY send you flying. Naturally, the exception is Clara, with whom he has bonded.

He is too clever for his own good. Clara has to distract him when letting him out of the stable now because before, he watched her undo the lock so many times he figured it out himself and kept escaping. They had to design new locks and everything.

He loves treats and being brushed. You will brush him until he is satisfied. Otherwise, he will nudge you. He is ok with other animals, if they show proper deference! He doesn't like mice, though. They are too little and too fast. What is up with those guys? He also HATES BATHS. Bathing is a huge production.

He likes attention. Like a certain human we know, he will do things he knows he's not supposed to do, like run off with feed buckets, if he feels he is being ignored.

Clara is a princess but Flappin' Jack Flash thinks he is the king lol

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.

[pavlovianpanic]

❝ yeah, my family owns a mountain. well, like, most of it … like, the peak?? heh ... enough to call it mount washington, but it's actually called blackwood mountain — connected to blackwood pines. it's a whole thing. ❞

a whole community, or more it was. some parts thrived more than others, though only for so long — the mines were cursed, the sanitorium shut down in the 50's, and the hotel? razed down to its lowest levels in the effort to rebuild something new, brighter, and more luxurious. his father's greed knows no bounds, a sickness passed down through blood. a curse. we're cursed. i know it.

❝ we have a lodge, actually. my dad built it. heh, i basically grew up there. if you want, i could show you sometime? you might not know this about me, jovie, but i'm actually a wicked snowboarder. yeah, yeah. it's true. you'll just have to see for yourself. there's enough boards for us both, trust me. besides, if snowboarding isn't your thing, there's enough trails and scenic sights to get your fill for life. trust me. so, what do you say? you in? i could gather the gang together, get us all up there ... or it could be a more private trip? eh? just me and you?? come on, @goldcnpeaks, don't leave me hanging. you in? ❞

[iinexorabile]

smth smth, this blogs muses have a main connected universe via their fandomless au's

[vullcanica]

I've been thinking a little bit today, re: Avita, morality and love. Namely, how she makes a clean separation between the two and how she operates and makes her choices based on that.

To start with she's a woman with completely neutral moral innerworkings. It has nothing to do with alignment charts or what have you, I'm talking about the general basis of the morality of judgement and action, which ideally functions on neutrality and which posits all are born deserving of the same treatment. In any verse Avita is a firm believer in this. She approaches everyone with the same consideration, believing they are owed it. Yet she's capable of loving the morally reprehensible who act in opposition to that worldview. One would think this clashes with or even entirely negates her fundamental ethics but it doesn't. She maintains a complete mental separation between love and morality. They're two different, independently operational compasses that she follows on a case by case basis.

It's why she does not need love or even partiality to act morally and does not heed morality when she loves. Her type of easy kindness, acceptance and borderline heroism might get confused for deep empathy or compassion and suggest that she feels, relates to or even cares about everyone around her but at its core it's simply the unbreakable belief in equal merit by birth. That all creatures come into existence equally entitled to life, survival, freedom, respect, honesty and basic kindnesses. None above the other. Love itself, the concept of it, comes into direct conflict with those ethics - its very nature suggests partiality. So it is kept entirely separate. She does not need to love or even particularly like someone to treat them morally. Her kindness isn't only reserved to a select few. It's a much stronger sentiment and far more consistent an altruism than one borne of her emotional compulsions would have been.

((The other edge of the sword: She doesn't need to hate someone to harm them either. She could feel bad or remorseful for them and still choose to not let that move her. Yes, she's empathetic, there is an emotional compulsion there, but she allows it to play little part in her opinions and decision-making. Empathy is NOT morally charged and never will be.))

And then there's love.

And though love is separate from her moral views, it always reigns far above them.

The brightest example of this: In all verses Avita loves her fathers unconditionally regardless of their amorality, ruthlessness and infamous renown. They are her family, come hell or high water, and that is an immutable fact of her person that all who befriend or come to love her must accept in some capacity.

She experienced the best of them, yes, but was never spared their true nature either, nor lied to. Therefore her love for them is full, sincere, genuine and not exclusive of their darker sides. She spent her upbringing lovingly surrounded by the morbid and macabre and moralities and ideologies she did not end up growing into. In fact, her natural traits were nurtured fearlessly in such an independent household, even though her fathers did not possess them. That's the love she was surrounded by and the love she gives. She's capable of looking past differences, vast though they may be, and places no moral conditions on those she cares for.

[tojisun]

the hand that feeds you

— “i take care of her, s’all.”

johnny mactavish x f!reader

cw: 18+ work - minors dni; age difference; daddy issues (kinda the central plot); cooking as a love language; slow burn but in high speed; a breath of angst; power imbalance; canon divergence - regular/non-military life au // amazing divider by @gildui! // 6.5k words

extra notes: this is a very self-indulgent work. there are holes in the plot, 100%, so ignore those holes pretty pls </3 also ik this is more of a captain johnny-verse but midway through, i started projecting so i might’ve written him incorrectly and im really sorry for that!!

being roommates with johnny is not as weird as it is; he’s amicable, at first, then full blown nice when days passed. he’s not loud, per se, but there’s always a constant chatter streaming from his space, like he physically can’t sit still through the silence which is great because you don’t fare any better with the stillness too, so reminiscent of how it was in the suburbs.

you moved to a neighbourhood just skirting past the inner city just because it’s a lot cheaper. but even then, rent was always high and your little box in a rundown complex wasn’t going to sustain you forever even if you wished it would. then, an opening in johnny’s townhouse was posted, almost half-price than whatever is up in the market, and it’s great despite your skepticism. hell, it’s more than great — it’s lifesaving.

your shitty job at the bookstore really can’t cover much of your expenses anymore, and sure student loans and the grant is great, but the growing debt makes you wince so it’s whatever at this point. you’re about to graduate soon anyway, pooling work experience from volunteering and club organizations, and it’s not like you can even go back to how it was.

(underway to law school, primed up before your father’s scrutiny but the burnout got to you before you could even write the LNAT. you realized that being a barrister wasn’t really what you wanted so you changed programs, midway, and switched to children’s education.

god, the disappointment in your pa’s eyes was so big, you knew to pack your shit before he could even kick you out.)

it’s… tough.

god, is it tough. none of your old friends and colleagues could stay in contact, which you don’t hold against them because most of them, by now, have graduated and entered law school. you’re straggling about two years back because of the switch in programs, and everything’s gone too tight. your budget. your social life.

your dating life.

johnny often distracts you from it all — he works in downtown, in one of those high-rise buildings often reserved for limiteds or holding companies, and has to travel off the city every three months. he makes good money, he said jovially, and you know it’s a nudge as to why your portion of the rent is cheap in the first place.

when you finally bit the bullet and asked why he put up one of the rooms in the market, johnny just shrugged and said he needed someone to house sit but sort off permanently. said something like last time he left, the pipes bursted and he couldn’t really fly back to help with the repairs.

it’s great being with him. he’s bright and bubbly, but also dependable in ways you never really thought about. like—

well, it’s all mundane things so listing them feels embarrassing, and it makes you feel as though you’re a touch-starved damsel and johnny just so happened to be the next older man to give you any attention and his time. but you can’t help it. god, you can’t help preen at the way he exists beside you.

he’s just so… beautiful, is what it is.

rugged and charming and loud and filling. the townhouse is too big for the two of you, but johnny makes it work. makes it feel like the two of you just fit into each other’s spaces.

early mornings are spent with him lilting between english and scottish, his exhaustion plastered onto him even after he’s downed two cups of coffee. he bumps his hip onto yours when he ambles out to prepare for his work, grumbling something like good morning and how’re you. afternoons are more lively and productive; it’s of you coming back from campus at six in the evening only to find him in the kitchen, fixing up dinner. it’s always something fancy and rich in flavour; something he always eats with wine on the side.

you, uh, you never thought he could actually cook, let alone feed himself well, but there he was, always a plate ready for you too like it’s expected that you’ll eat dinner with him. like spending time with him was just natural — the sky is blue, the ocean’s deep, and you and johnny fall into each other like there is an invisible string pulling you close to him.

it’s a beautiful change of pace, and there are more days now when you can breathe in a little easier, and you know it’s all because of johnny. it’s all him who pulled you out of your slump and out of that darkness and gave you the room, literally, to grow.

he’s beautiful, but you’ve said that already, haven’t you? he’s just… so good to be with.

then, johnny began picking up and bringing some home.

.

the first time it happened was shocking, really.

you had an early morning, something that’s so murky now in your memories so you’re unsure if it was anything uni related or work related, just that it was five in the morning and you were clambering downstairs as quietly as you could. you rounded the length of the hallway from the platform to the kitchen when you ran into someone.

“steady,” she’d said, voice hoarse and loud in her shock too.

you yelled, jumping, arms swinging because was there an intruder, and it took johnny physically subduing you for you to calm down. looking back now, you burn in embarrassment, but then you had been so worried, your body wound up so tightly in your fear.

“shh,” johnny had murmured with that wry grin. “s’just me, lass.”

your eyes danced between him and the brunette — pretty even in her rumpled shirt, with long legs and a small waist — trying to understand what was going on. you are sure johnny had told you before that he wasn’t seeing anyone so who—

“your girlfriend?” she asked johnny, turning to him with her lips pursed and her brow cocked up.

the question settled in your stomach, doing wonders to your already-fragile psyche. you’d just spent hours thinking about johnny and what he meant to you; what living with him meant. how it eased up something carved within the trenches of your being, like you’d always been waiting for someone like him.

the question was a reminder, like prickling you with icicles, leaving you to navigate the swoop. but johnny had laughed, nothing mean but so dismissive that you felt the curl of shame brandishing from the base of your spine like johnny was laughing at you.

“oh, nah,” he replied, arm still slung over your shoulders. “she’s sorta my ward, yes? i take care of her, s’all.”

that’s all. you’re nothing more to him but a ward. a tenant. not even a friend—

she hummed, then leaned over to kiss johnny, her eyes still drawn to you like she’s watching, waiting for a reaction, and when she got none, she trudged to the door. you and johnny watched as she bent down to slip in her shoes, some stilettos with red bottoms, before wordlessly disappearing into the darkened morning.

“pretty,” you chirped, trying to break the tension of whatever that was.

johnny laughed in that way that surely crinkled his eyes, only to steer the conversation away by asking why you were up early. you remembered what you had to do and you dived to the kitchen in a flurry, chatting about the deadlines and due dates — so it was a school thing — and johnny just watched, silent, humming, eyes still curved in his glee.

you left no sooner than his… paramour did and, for a while, that was that.

but your semester is coming to a close and your schedule is changing, but so is johnny’s. he’s coming home later and later, but always seemed to offer apologies in the form of easy-to-microwave meals for your dinner. they’re still homemade, probably cooked up in the morning before he left for work, and you’d messaged him to say that he didn’t need to worry about you. that, sure, you came to him amidst financial struggle, juggling work and school, and trying to decide if you would have to starve this month because of rent, but you can cook. for yourself and for him too.

johnny’s face did a terrible thing when you mentioned that in person, the first in a while after things got hectic.

“what,” you bit out, embarrassed.

“nothing,” he said, blinking like he was realizing things he shouldn’t. “s’fun doing things f’r you.”

then he clamped up, spooning soup into his mouth, some of it messily dribbling into his chin. it’s not like you were doing any better, with how your throat closed up at his words, eyes going wide.

it’s been a thing, is what it is, but neither of you two have ever acknowledged that it’s a thing. it’s been a wordless experience — of johnny taking over things when it comes to the house because of course he will, it’s his home, but he always covers things for you too. things you’re sure normal landlords don’t really worry about, but not johnny.

there’s always extra food in the kitchen, extra blankets when the weather dips. there’s even a new cooling machine for the summer even though you know johnny’s room already has an installed air conditioning. he’s even changed the seats in the dining room because he caught you once hitting your hip after an all-nighter on a project.

then, he refurbished the den to make it your office.

“you didn’t have to,” you told him, mind racing at your savings, wondering if he was going to increase your rent.

johnny just shook his head with an almost fond roll of his eyes and clapped your back, arm hovering there. “s’all yers, hen.”

everything he did always accounted for you. so why the women?

they’re all long limbed and trimmed waist, with eyes that sparkled even when all you’ve seen of them is always within the poorly-lit hallway. they have voices that curl teasingly, breathy like they’re enticing johnny for one more night. and they’ve always, always, treated you like a—

like a kid.

a burden, almost, of johnny’s.

and, hell, maybe you are. johnny’s almost twice your age; he’s also already well-established in his career, some senior position that you can’t really follow but one he talks about with fondness. he’s got land rover-money, the car in his garage big and black and almost military grade, and it looks so expensive especially beside the crappy civic you were able to snag for a cheap price because it’s got about three-hundred-thousand mileage already.

you’ve got nothing to give him, other than the lousy rent payment that he doesn’t even really need but is just asking for courtesy because it’d be so weird for him to offer a room, or two now given you have the den too, for free. you’ve got nothing on your name, and if it isn’t pity that makes johnny care for you, then you don’t know what.

maybe his string of one-night stands are right — you are just a kid.

that maybe you really are still too wet behind the ears for the real world that you go running to the next person that could protect you from it, stumbling into his life and licking up every drop of his attention, mistaking his kindness for devotion. his care for love.

.

you should have known, then, that the thoughts would ripple, leaving you to feel like the days are unnavigable. obsession quickly took root, growing fangs, and it ensnared you; a vice noose at what had been a pleasant coexistence.

hell, you can barely stand being with johnny because of the jealousy. it’s a shameful thing, but a part of you thinks you deserve johnny more than the others do.

you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s nightmares and the horrors that spill from his lips when it’s twelve in the morning and the two of you have hit the bourbon. you tell yourself that nobody knows about johnny’s aversion to the windows in the living room; that the reason why the curtains are a deep green is not to match the new plants he’s allowed you to fill up his home but because they shroud the panels more than the cream ones had. you tell yourself that nobody knows that johnny can sing; that he can cook a mean tomahawk; that he likes reading; that his wrists were hurting so he’s currently scheduled for a surgery; that he’s soft to you.

the women don’t know this johnny, you tell yourself, nails clawing at the hems of your chest. they don’t know him the way i do.

it’s a pathetic whisper. it’s so laughable. so juvenile.

they’re right. they’re right.

(you’re just a—)

“i don’t see you anymore,” johnny murmured one morning, when things have gone quiet again, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter while he watches you throw orange peels into the garburator.

he just got back from a work trip in aberdeen, his exhaustion loud on his face. his hair is overgrown, the bottom ends of his mohawk curling along his nape. he was there for over three weeks, skirting almost close to a month — the longest he’s ever been away — and you had tried so hard not to message. not to drop casual check-ins because you’re sure no tenant ever does that to their landlord, but johnny had remained just as friendly; asking things like if you wanted another potted plant, a monstera or a dragon tree, or if you still had that swiss chocolate he brought home as a gift, or—

the list of his questions grew, but you’ve given him clipped replies, not knowing how to act right anymore since your quiet realization. even the “thing” that you thought you shared with him had fizzled at the drop of the women coming-and-leaving, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

it’s not like you’re broken or ruined or angry. god, no you aren’t.

but you feel unsteady, like now that you know that you liked him more than he liked you, you forgot how to breathe. how to live without that looming burden because your affection is nothing but a burden.

what will johnny do if he finds out? you can’t afford a new place to move into, not when you’re so close to graduating, the finish line just about to graze your very fingertips with how near it is. money is still tight, and johnny has already spoiled you rotten. has shown you how it is to live a comfortable life. and if he learns of your feelings, you would lose this. more than anything, you would lose him.

so you detached yourself from the noose, curling into yourself and using his work trip as a way to move on.

jesus — move on, huh? like there was a ‘you and johnny’ to even move on from. like there was anything there to read. like there was anything there to pull away from; twitching fingers drawing back into the spaces of your ribs, tucking yourself away from his warmth.

“i’ve been so busy, john,” you muttered, just as tired.

“yeah?” he said, still light. still jovial. “let me cook something nice for ye, huh? reward yer hard work and all.”

“i can’t.” you swallowed down the prickle lodged in your throat, eyes ducking away to avoid seeing his. “i’ve got a meeting with the club.”

(you missed the way johnny’s smile dipped.)

“oh,” he said.

you shrugged, internally wincing at your weak attempt at being normal, before gathering your thermos and your messily-wrapped sandwich. johnny was still standing by the counters when you turned around from the sink, his bulk so close to yours in ages. it had been so long since you could just reach over and feel his warmth; feel the soft pudge of what once were hardened muscles.

he’s looking at you with such sad eyes that it’s jarring to truly see because he’s looking at you like—

like he’s losing you.

“i’m gonna…” you trailed off, not really knowing how to end this truly awkward interaction.

“yeah, f’course,” he croaked out. “take care of yerself huh, lass?”

“thanks.” the smile on your face felt more like a grimace. “see you.”

he said nothing more after that, his eyes still searching; still furrowed like something’s changed and something’s happening, and it made your stomach drop because please. please don’t let him notice.

but johnny just watched as you went, his coffee all forgotten.

(something bloomed in the soft press of your heart, flickering like a young ember. you’ve never realized how longing could feel like your mouth is stuffed with cotton.)

.

johnny hasn't picked up since his return from aberdeen.

they’re getting a new firm so the shuffling has been brutal, leaving johnny to clamber out at five in the morning before coming back home when it’s pushing 11pm. the scruff on his face is becoming more unkempt, salt and pepper becoming more intense, but even then, he’s never looked more ruggedly beautiful as he is now.

it’s like he’s aged years and you shouldn’t be reacting so strongly to the change, but looking at johnny now makes you ache in a different way — core throbbing, throat parched and eyes stinging as you watch him. you’re so drawn to his gravitational pull, unable to detangle yourself now that it feels like he’s more back in your life than he ever was.

and you know it’ll end up hurting you. that you’ll go back to isolating yourself at the drop of a new girl in the house, the smell of her chanel or bvlgari perfume filling up the crevices that you’ve dutifully dusted every saturday morning while johnny’s out for a run. he’s made having casual lovers a cycle, one that you cannot blame him for because johnny doesn’t like you back.

but johnny’s been so attentive to you these days. he’s been a hovering presence even when he looks like he’s one blown wind away from passing out in his exhaustion, his warm hand always on the small of your back as he walks you to the door before chirping a hearty, “kick ass, bon!”

he’s back to fixing up food for you, like that blip in your schedule got him all creative because now, it’s not even just dinner. you’ve got breakfast waiting for you in the microwave, and packed lunch already in your bag, carefully tucked beside the manila folders and plastic envelopes for your capstone. it’s like he’s making up for something which is dumb and wrong because now, you’re all swooping stomach and prickling lungs.

“yummy?” johnny asked, catching you wriggling in excitement at the flavour bursting into your tongue.

your cheeks tingled, feverish, before giving him a shy nod.

he huffed, something so achingly fond, and rested his chin atop his crossed arms. you didn’t know what to focus on — the scruff on his face or the hard lines of webbing veins spilling from beneath his folded sleeves. then, he crooned, “good. that’s good.”

you ran upstairs to your room, throwing an excuse about finishing up your paper, before locking the door, and feeding your cunt two fingers to satiate the burn. the stretch was delicious, raw and sweet, and you humped your wrist, trying to douse the flames burning you up.

you thought of johnny, of the way he looked and how much nicer he’s been; of johnny and the way he was so kind to you, so caring like you’re up in his priority list again, overtaking his busy schedule and the firm restructuring, and his needs.

your orgasm felt like a ripping of reality, your mind splintering at the edges as you’re stretched thin. it felt like you’ve been pulled taut, then released with a resounding snap. it felt euphoric, like the explosion of something intoxicating. something wickedly addicting.

you knew that this could never be unmade. your affections had grown their tendrils, curling past the quiet admiration and spiralling into something unforgiving. into something greater than yourself.

“fuck,” you had rasped out, eyes prickling with tears as shame rushed into your chest. “fuck.”

you didn’t need this. you didn’t need any of this.

but it becomes a cycle — wash, rinse, repeat.

johnny continues to go unshaven; continues to pour his attention to you. and you soak it up, needy and soft, unable to turn away with your tail tucked between your legs. you fall back to the ease of how it had been, hip bumping his, morning coffee shared in the silence, dinner a filling affair once more. all that’s changed are the lingering looks, the resonating touches.

how johnny’s wide hand falls to the small of your back more often; how his fingers just slots against yours every time he passes you your cup; how his eyes rove over your face, always searching for something you dare not hope for.

the last time he flicked his eyes down to watch the way your tongue lapped at your lips, swiping away at the extra cream, johnny’s pupils had constricted before a quiet groan rumbled from his throat. your thighs had quickly clenched close as heat exploded in the pit of your belly, spreading like wildfire through your veins. the pressure on your nub made you hiccup, like a whine dragging itself from your trachea, and johnny had snapped his eyes back to yours so quickly, it made you heady.

“bon–”

“i have to go,” you murmured, clamouring to shaky legs.

you fucked yourself to a deafening point once more, ears ringing as you squirted, the gush of your slick pushing past your fingers. you had to gnash your pillow cover to muffle the moan rumbling from the base of your throat, trying desperately to be good. to not be heard. to be better.

but johnny’s burning gaze on your lips was seared into your memory, blazing on top of everything, and you imagined—

god, you imagined.

the way he’ll take you — beard rough on your chin, thicker fingers spreading you wider, reaching deeper, before finally filling you up with all of him, bullying the whole length of his cock until he bottoms out.

you pressed on your stomach, dizzy, thinking about how johnny would hit that far. you know he would. the women he’s slept with have told you, anyway, in passing, describing how he was in bed with dreamy sighs like they weren’t still reeking of sex and johnny’s aftershave.

(you still wonder why so many of them were mean, their noses tipped up every time they saw you. they were the ones that johnny chose, the ones who were fortunate enough to have been his lover, so you wonder why they still sought you out like you were competition.)

“johnnyyyy!” you moaned, loud and long, your fingers prodding at your walls, and you knew that you’d regret the wrangled cry later, but you didn’t care then, too busy swimming in the aftermath of your orgasm.

.

but johnny heard it anyway.

he told you that he had heard you. 

it happened so quickly — one moment you were bent over the espresso machine, fiddling with the levers with bleary-eyed attempts, then the next thing you knew was that johnny was crowding you, trapping you between the warm bulk of his body and the counter, his eyes furrowed so deeply which made the lines on his forehead run much deeper.

“whu’?” you asked, blinking tiredly at him.

johnny just did this shaky breath that rattled his whole body, like he was propped up by a couple of sticks instead of his whole mass. the mood shifted with that weak inhale though, and you turned to fully face him, ignoring the beeping machine because johnny was still looking at you with those eyes.

the ones that made you feel seen, read, and laid bare before him. like he could weave his eyes past the fabrics of your shirt to peek into the very jagged shards of your heart and see the cross that you’ve been carrying. like he knew things about you that he shouldn’t.

“johnny?” you prodded again, finding his silence alarming.

“yer too young for me, m’eudail,” johnny finally rumbled out, voice thick and deep.

and it’s—

what.

your mind was pressing into your skull, trying desperately to link your synapses together; for the fog to clear and for your coherence to rise above the pull of drowsiness, but johnny was faster. like now that he’s said the first words, the rest just follow, unstoppable in their force and in their meaning.

“i told myself i couldn’t,” he murmured, still breathing shakily; gaze still too fragile. “that yer lookin’ for nothin’ like me, and that yer just tryin’ to get out there with yer career.”

he lifted a hand, fingers twitching, before balling it back down to a fist.

“told myself i’ve gotta let go. found a way to cope and shit.”

johnny took another ragged breath in, and it startled you into gulping one of your own — you didn’t even realize that you’ve held your breath as he spoke to you, your chest clenching tightly as your mind began to link the passageways together, filling you in on what he wasn’t really saying.

“but carin’ f’you was so easy. christ, it was even delightful, hen.” he chuckled, something that was somewhat raw and pained.

you licked at your lips, blinking wide eyes open. johnny tracked the movement, his nose flaring like you’ve done something more than a subconscious thing, his shoulders going taut.

“i like doing all sorta things for you. liked seeing y’eat what i cooked; liked seeing y’use what i got f’you. liked watching y’come home to me. to me.”

a soft sound echoed between the two of you, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was a breathless whimper that petered out from the base of your throat. you didn’t even realize that you’ve curled into yourself, almost like you’re trying your best to shrink before johnny, and johnny crooned.

callused palm cupped the round of your cheek, his thumb swiping just underneath your eye. “told myself yer too young; that surely yer looking for someone closer to yer age, but bon, i heard y’last night.”

you startled in his hold, a quiet gasp piercing through the heat. johnny’s lips danced with mirth.

“s’right. heard a loud thump against the wall and ran upstairs, all worried, but guess my surprise, yes? y’were moanin’ my name so loudly, it’s like y’left yer door open.”

“johnny, i–”

“tell me,” he said, moving closer, his chest pressing against yours. “tell me t’stop, bon, an’ i will. but y’ve got to tell me. y’ve got to push me away.”

you looked at him, your eyes trembling at what he was laying out thickly, and your throat going parched at the blanketing desire rippling from him. there were so many things you wanted to ask, but his breath was tickling the bridge of your nose, dancing so close to the bow of your lips, and your heart ached.

desire coursed through you in waves, dribbling from the cup, and you lurched forward, chasing after his lips.

johnny melted into you. his hesitant touch turned greedier, more possessive, mapping your body and pulling you closer into him. his mouth devoured your own, gulping down the pleased little sighs and keens spilling from your lips. he kissed like a man starved, but you weren’t any softer; all nippy and desperate, fingers digging into his hair and fisting at the thin strands.

it was feverish, almost to a boiling point, and you needed more.

god, you needed more.

“johnny,” you mewled when he pulled away just enough to slide his damp lips along the cut of your jaw. “johnny, need you.”

“christ,” johnny sounded so wrecked, his voice rumbling deeply from where his lips were suckling on the soft curve of your neck. “i’ve been dreaming of this, mo luaidh. i knew i shouldn’t but yer so sweet to me and i– i wanted.” he said that word like it was dirty; like he’d been fighting tooth-and-nail to suppress it.

it made you tremble to hear how johnny desired you just as much. he had always felt unobtainable; always danced too far from your grasp and was always bigger than what you knew you could handle — his lovers had always looked divinely; pretty, yes, but fierce in their own right like they knew how to live without johnny; and you know they could, because they didn’t need johnny the way you do. they didn’t look at johnny like you do, like he hung the stars with those thick and aged hands of his.

but as you stood there, feeling every word punctured onto your skin, you couldn’t help but begin to cry, the tears springing from your eyes to slip down your cheeks. johnny rubbed your back, soothing and gentle. 

“i wanted t’take you – make y’all mine,” he whispered. 

you hiccuped, shaky from the weight of your hunger, and nuzzled close. your hands fell from fisting his hair so you could claw at the sharp corners of his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles there rippling, all taut when he bent forward and kissed you.

“please,” you began, feeling your mind thinning because you wanted more. more. more. more. “i can be– johnny, s’always been you. nobody else but you.”

you tugged him away, cupping his jaw and forcing him to look at you. and god, johnny looked so devastatingly beautiful, his eyes all furrowed and his cheeks all flushed, and his lips spit-sheened.

“fuck me,” you whispered, tired of dancing around.

he groaned, something that sounded so pained, before he was tugging you with him, up the stairs and skirting past your room and into his. 

you’ve never been in johnny’s room before, just as he had never been in yours since you moved in, and until now you still don’t know what you had been expecting upon walking in, but the smell of johnny wafting through was almost gut-punching. he smelled so close, like he was everywhere — surrounding you from the ground-up, dousing every pore with him until even your mouth felt full.

and johnny, he smelt like home. 

there were no more words uttered as he stripped you off your pyjamas, sure fingers making their way down the buttons, unlatching them from the hemmed slits. you watched with heavy eyes, blinking slowly like everything had been wrung out of you, leaving you pliant and soft. johnny hummed, appreciative, and mapped kisses from your heaving chest, teeth nipping at the fat, before moving on, sprinkling every expanse of your skin with such reverence. 

your hands were balled to your chest when he reached the jut of your belly, his chin hovering just above your crotch. johnny flicked up his darkened eyes at you, asking silently.

you gave him a nod, not trusting your own voice too.

johnny’s eyes had turned into slits, pleased, and hefted himself up just enough to be able to fit his hands on your hips and tugged your pants down. you shivered, the warmth in his room not enough to suppress the winter chill, and it made you buck into him. johnny comforted you with a quiet shh, rubbing his palm on the pudge of your thigh in soothing circles.

you don’t know why that touch was what did it for you, but soft sobs finally spilled from your mouth, scrunching up the desire into something undeniably frail. johnny didn’t startle though, like he knew that you had been wounding up to this tipping point, and instead continued to touch you tenderly, almost like if he could, he would cradle you close. 

“i love you,” you said, sniffling, because that was the crux of your vulnerability, right?

you love him. god, you love him. 

you’ve loved him since the day he sat you down for dinner and told you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, not anymore and not with him around. you’ve loved him since the day he flipped the den so you can have your own space for work; don’t mind the fact that he didn’t know if you were going to even stay, just that he insisted that you deserved that room either way. you’ve loved him since that swiss chocolate, since that cup of coffee, since he’s begun filling your painfully lonely days with his care. 

you’ve loved him since and now—

“oh, mo graidh,” johnny breathed out. “i love you too.” he kissed your thigh, scruff ticklish. “gu siorraidh is gu brath.”

you wanted to ask what that meant but johnny was already moving, sitting back up to strip out of his own shirt. you trailed your eyes down his body, capturing your trembling lips between your teeth at how breathtaking he was — soft with fat but still heavy with muscles, fuzzy with hair with the smattering pooling just underneath his belly button before trailing down to where they were hidden underneath his pants. 

you twitched before finally braving enough to reach out and brush your knuckle over the indents of his softened abs. johnny hummed, something that curled with appreciation, before covering your hand with his and holding it there. 

“all of me s’yers, hen,” he said with such finality that you felt it settle deep within the marrows of your bones. 

you nodded, emotionally spent and johnny lilted something else in scottish, so soft that it was almost a croon. you let him manhandle you — pushing your hips up so he could slot a pillow under for your back; you were so malleable to his touch as he took over, bending once again for a kiss while his fingers danced past the laces of your panties and into the damp heat of your pussy. 

you moaned, eyelashes fluttering when he pressed one in, so careful and slow, but you were so wet that it slid in with no resistance, gobbling it up knuckle-deep. johnny had groaned like he could feel your rising euphoria, before nosing along your temple as he wiggled the finger around, stroking at your walls. you wondered if he was going to tease but then he was pulling it out, only to plunge two in the next thrust, curling and stretching, and oh—

oh, ssss’good.

you don’t even remember how long he’d been spearing you with his thicker fingers, rough and long and reaching far, far deeper than you could with your own, but you laid there, sobbing, feeling your slick slip out, pooling, making a mess of your thighs and his sheets. johnny had moved from suckling on your neck to taking a nipple in his mouth, teeth softly gnashing at the bud. you felt like you were on fire, burning from your core, aching for a release. 

“cum f’me, m’eudail,” johnny groaned, breathless himself, his cock poking underneath his boxers, the fabric all wet from where his tip was, leaking pearled pre-. “let me see you.”

“johnny, i’m gonna– i’m–!” you squealed, legs jumping, squeezing johnny’s sides as you jolted, hips twitching at the bloating ecstasy. johnny just pushed down on your thigh, not letting up with the pace of his fingers. he was fucking you so hard that his hand’s slapping against your skin, his palm grinding down on your clit just right, and the pleasure sizzled into something biting. into something that was almost painful.

it was catastrophic, pulling you into two directions. johnny’s everywhere — his scent in your lungs, his fingers deep in your pussy, his mouth hot and wet on your tits, and like this, like this, you felt yourself breaking. 

ripping—

then, your orgasm was punched out of you. 

your senses had gone awry — throat throbbing as you cried out, your eyes going blind as they rolled into your skull at the final curl of johnny’s fingers. white noise filled your ears, and it was like you were submerged underneath water, wading through the crashing tides of your climax.

you came back to johnny peppering your face with soft kisses, whispering something you couldn’t decipher past the croon of your name and something like you did good and so beautiful. he’d already pulled his fingers out, and used both arms to cradle you close. you felt so empty — god, that wasn’t even his cock, yet — but your body thrummed pleasantly, almost like the itch was finally scratched. 

“johnny?” you puffed out, voice all scratchy and weak. 

“i’m here, bon. i’m here.”

you hummed, curling into his chest, head pillowed by his arm. you wanted to ask what about his own euphoria, but johnny seemed so content just laying there with you, not really desperate or needy, so you let it go, losing the battle against your drowsiness before finally slipping into a quiet sleep. 

.

johnny’s there for your graduation, carrying a big bouquet of only eden roses. you didn’t even know that those particular ones were expensive until someone from the graduation party oohed and aahed to their friend. 

your cheeks burned when their friend chirped, “well someone’s clearly loved.”

you know that what they said would have had johnny agreeing loudly if he was allowed in the lineup because he is never one to be shy about what he feels; or not anymore, anyway. he loves so fully and openly that you still wonder why it took the two of you so long to get together, but the days since then had just been kind and filling that you have long forgotten how it was to not be with him. 

they’re going to call your name soon, and your stomach swoops, excitement and anxiety mixing in a dizzying tandem. 

you’re graduating with a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a diploma in early childhood education, and this is not where you thought you would be when you first started university, but it’s the happiest you have ever been. and sure much of your poli-sci courses were scrapped when you changed majors, and that’s also a lot of money wasted, but you have three job opportunities lined up already and it’s like the seismic shift in your life had finally corrected itself. 

(your mom said she’s sorry that she and your pa couldn’t come, but you’ve stopped longing for their acceptance and told her it was fine.

there’s a date saved in your calendar, though, for a brunch with her and that was enough.)

you ducked into johnny’s arms when the graduation ceremony ended, careful of the bouquet he’s holding. 

“congratulations, bonnie,” he says, a hearty laugh rumbling from his chest. “christ, i’m so, so proud of you.”

you never pegged yourself for a crybaby, but tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes at the weight of his words. 

“thank you,” you reply, soft and raw, and honest. 

johnny pulls you in, his lips warm as they’re pressed on your forehead. 

and this, just like this, you know things will only get better from here on out. 

[godzexperiment]

me thinking about how even in full blown, weapon/apathetic and horrifying mode nix can be an bit considerate (also nix in general when carrying out orders having various degrees of empathy etc) -nix holding the hands of those he's been instructed with shuffling off the mortal coil (singing to them & so forth here or there) -careful catch, lay down as they collapse

-revealing himself (generally not supposed to but sometimes he does, so as to give them that to cling onto as they wish)

-that he might not need to watch over somebody through it/when what he's been told to do is done but does anyways (morning poisoning being the only bearing he is supposed to have on the situation but feeling the commitment to watching them live however long they've got left that day+curious what exactly the keeling over will be like as it was clearly an calculated affair)

just! he inherently wants to not be the weapon that he is & not have the capacity for immense horrors (yet he takes on the mantle of being one in those specific verses anyways because of his love for his siblings+ humanity & in others it happens because he cares so immensely that it can't be quantified in only good deeds etc)

[etheries1015]

Fem!MC X platonic Twst - missing the "girly" things.

General warnings: Fem reader, very Self-indulgent. If you don't relate, please keep scrolling along <3 not very proofread. No pronouns are used, but the concept of "girliness" and "girlhood" is very strong.

The boys have noticed their prefect act a bit different lately...a cloud of loneliness hovered over your head. As the only girl of Night Raven College, it was incredibly easy to feel left out and miss the things you were once interested in back in your world. You held a strong façade of prestige and uncaringness, but what happens when that mask begins to crack? How will the boys of NRC put your woes at rest? ...with a wonderful slumber party, of course!

First coming to Twisted Wonderland, not many could tell you were well-versed (Or at the very least, incredibly interested) in clothing, face Care, and jewelry. Although your personality screamed more or less "Gremlin" at times, and were a "well-known and respected honor student" all the same- you had a rather "girly" side to yourself.

However, you had limited options on having a non-existent budget, but a few of the students took notice of the longing in your eyes whenever you passed by something you desired to have back in your life. The cute earrings, the pretty dresses and skirts, the headbands...a mix of classy and modern, things of that nature.

The first time you were able to get your hands on a half way decent outfit that suited your tastes and you wore it out, others stared in shock. You were still the cheery and "weird" gremlin prefect that had crude humor and silly dance moves, yet something about seeing you in such...frills and 'flamboyance' was not what they were expecting. It suited you, though.

You soon found yourself being handed such outfits. Vil had taken it upon himself to gift you expensive brand outfits that he saw your eye when walking around town, Malleus gifting you a few outfits from Briar Valley that he felt would suit your tastes, Kalim gifting you the cutest earrings he had ever seen (little fruit charms, bows, all sorts of colors and unique charms). Even Riddle introduced you to tea cups that fit your aesthetic to decorate your kitchen with!

Though, the more they saw this side of you, an influx of confessions also came in toe. You were revered as the only female in school (who also managed to stay at the top of the score board, despite your magicless disposition). This came with the struggle of being pursued, more so after they could see just how cute you could dress yourself up.

Despite all these new changes, you felt a tinge of... sadness. You were happy that they were all willing to accept you with open arms and indulge in your desires such as gifting you the cutest of plushies, clothes, jewelry, decor... that didn't stop you from missing fun slumber parties, girl talk with friends, giggling about your love lives, sharing clothes and doing each others makeup and painting nails. You confided all of this to the number one group you could have possibly spoke to about these issues of yours.

the pop music club.

A knock came upon the door at odd hours of the night, upon opening it in your nightgown, you revealed quite a sight. Cater, Kalim, and Lilia along with a few other choice students were all in gorgeous nightgowns, their hair done up, holding blankets and pillows with hands full of bags of what you could tell were snacks, makeup, nail polish, and other slumber party commodities. With a bright smile on your face and a giddy giggle, you let them in gushing about their cute appearances. You all lay out the blankets and pillows in front of the TV in the lounge (kindly gifted to you by Idia) and pulled out the snacks and lay them out for everyone to grab at in their leisure.

"We aren't girls," Lilia pointed out, "But at the very least we can enjoy the things you mentioned before! Oh how I love a good love story, shall we share our love lives?"

"We can do that while we put on these face masks! Look, this one is a panda!" Kalim exclaimed, holding up a large bag of face masks and other types of...random things he thought would suit the party. (He pulled out one of those toe dividers for nail polish, he had no clue what it was but Jamil told him he would need it for later.)

"Oh, I brought you this super cute and frilly nightgown (y/n), Trey said one of his sisters didn't wear it anymore and he thought it would look good on you. Go! Try it on, Then we can take a BUNCH of magicam photos. Don't we look like pretty dolls?!" Cater gushed, handing you the night gown. You took it with grace and skipped away to your room, giddy and unable to hold back your excitement.

It wasn't long for more guests to arrive in frilly pajamas and cutesy hair accessories. A string of familiar faces entered, and you soon found yourself braiding the hair of Leona, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Silver...You were shocked to see even Epel made an appearance simply to make you happy.

"I learned how to braid a little bit," Silver smiled gently at you, "And a few other hairstyles. I would be happy to try them on you," He said. You looked at Silvers' perfectly French braided hair and makeup that made him look nothing less than an angel, you nodding in immediate trust. You soon had hair that was done so elegantly, adorned with flowers and gems.

"Let's be clear, I ain't a girl!...but.." Epel blushed, "I-if it'll make you happy...i'll let ya braid my hair. Just this once!"

Floyd and Jade even came along with their faces caked with makeup and the most flamboyant nightgowns you have ever seen, laughing away at their silliness.

"Look Floyd," Jade pointed at your makeup which was lightly placed on by his hand, "I told you these colors perfectly suits (y/n)'s skin." Floyd boo'd and insisted to take off the colors Jade had chosen, holding out the most...vibrant and interesting color palate to exist. You only laughed and backed away, shaking your head and begging floyd to leave your precious face alone.

They truly indulged in everything you had missed out on, even if they weren't your "girlfriends," they were so adamantly ready to try, simply to see you smile once more.

It was a night of snacks, makeup, nail painting, chick flicks, karaoke, gossiping, and frilly fun. You truly underestimated just how much the boys took a liking to you and wished to ease your worries and make you feel a little more at home, and you couldn't have asked for better friends than them.

[snapscube]

really surprised you'd never seen wicked before now, but i get it. it used to be SO hard to get a boot, and even if i love it, it has a LOT of pacing issues that i'm glad they're fixing in the movie adaptation. i'd give the books a read if you're interested, but the musical is only adapted from the first wicked book and it is.... a VERY loose adaptation at that lol. yuri forever!

yeah haha, i know i probably give off a lot of theater kid energy in spirit but i am not really all too versed in even the most popular broadway shows lol. wicked always existed in my periphery and i always thought "i'd probably be into that if i put the effort into checking it out" but that "If" never happened.

god the movie was just. so good. and now that i've seen both i'm actually kinda grateful i ended up waiting for the movie unintentionally cause the pacing in the stage show, as well as the much more abrasive energy, would actually NOT have done it for me i think. some of the best moments in the movie are the moments where its able to really let the emotional beats breathe and close in on the nuanced reactions characters give to their circumstances, and though some of that is on stage when it is most appropriate you get a lot less of it and the pacing doesn't really let it sit at any point. the movie is nearly 3 hours and i sincerely do not feel it when watching cause it's just paced SO well in comparison.

at this point im definitely only like a single night of boredom and wicked brainrot away from checking out the book. i'm super familiar with the gulf in tone differences so dw i don't expect to get any whiplash from it haha.

[sinofwriting]

Water Bottle - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 546 Summary: Logan has a thing about water. Note(s): Takes place in 2024, Japan GP. Also just like 2023, the 2024 season will be different with different point scorers and events. (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Masterlist | Support Me! | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Logan was horrible at drinking water, Max had come to find out. Or rather, was horrible at remembering to carry water around. If it was in his hand, he’d remember it and drink it. If it wasn’t though, forget it.

It was surprisingly endearing the way Logan would just forget water existed as soon as his water bottle was out of his hands. Max knew it drove Pan crazy, he had seen the way she pushed water into his hand constantly, but now, and he can’t help but grin, that was his job.

Passing a bottle of water to Logan, he pats the younger on the shoulder before joining him on the sofa. It was a relief to be right at the end, Logan next to him, then Lando, Esteban, and Kevin. The latter two drivers had made his nose wrinkle a bit when his press officer told him his schedule.

As the interviewer begins with talking to Kevin, Max lets himself zone out, looking at the rest of the people in the room, observing them.

He briefly registers Esteban beginning to speak, when the very quiet muffled sound of Lando laughing hits his ears. It makes his eyebrow raise and he glances to look at him. Lando’s face is slightly pink as he tries to stifle his laugh. Max has to give him that’s doing a somewhat good job at it. Better than he ever did last year, at least.

As he looks at Lando, wondering what made him crack up, the corner of his eye catches on Logan and his attention immediately shifts.

The younger was frowning at his lap, and Max looks down and sees him staring at the water bottle in his hands, his dominant hands fingers struggling with the cap.

Max looks over at Esteban as the Frenchman says his name, nearly rolling his eyes at the shit joke of him winning everything.

“Well,” he begins, reaching over grabbing the water from Logan. “It’s the car and the team really. I mean, the car just feels excellent. How is the car for you Esteban?” He asks, passing the now opened water back to Logan and cap, giving a small tap to the bottom of the bottle and smiling when immediately Logan takes a drink.

His attention refocuses on Esteban only to see him looking at him slack jawed.

“What?” He asks, confused. But as he looks at Kevin, the interviewer and the other people in the room, they all have the same response. Lando even is no longer laughing, having the same expression as everyone else. Looking at Logan, the American shrugs, just as confused as him.

“Did you,” the interview starts.

“Did I what?”

The interviewer’s mouth opens, then closes.

“Did you just open Logan’s water for him?”

Max looks at Lando in confusion. “Yes. Why? What’s the problem?”

The Brit continues to look at him, slack jawed. “Mate,” he finally manages to say.

“What?” Max shrugs. “Can we go back to questions about Australia?” He sends a sorry look to Logan, who just shrugs. And Max in response can’t help but ruffle his kid’s hair. One of these days he really was going to go into Williams garage and strangle James Vowles, one of these days, he sighed.

@spookystitchery @saintchxx4 @lovecarsgoingvroom @bloodyymaryyy @lilipiggytails

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.

Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute

The Cullens with an Artist! Reader

Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know that he is an artist too

He made Bella a whole song on the piano

As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy

So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic

For you, he’s a muse

I mean, how could he not be

Literally the definition of perfect

So obvs you sketch him a lot

When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored

He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you

He hangs it up

Even if it’s not finished

If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back

But as soon as it’s done it’s all his

Alice:

She’s also an artist

But more with fashion

And design

She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching

So she always loves seeing your paintings

She’s a coexistence girly

She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting

You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time

The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised

It was so difficult for you to hide this from her

Especially with her gift

She absolutely loves it

She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house

She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is

Jasper:

He loves the arts

They’re relaxing to him

Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes

He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway

Art dates with him are a must

He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes

Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work

He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him

You made him look so happy, so peaceful

He’s used to being perceived as a monster

Definitely hangs it up

But only in his room

He wants to be the only one to see it

Rosalie:

She’s more of a technical, sciencey person

Not to say she doesn’t like art

Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it

She can definitely appreciate good work tho

And she loves everything you make

She buys you new supplies all of the time

If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set

When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed

She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow

But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful

But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it

Emmett:

He’s not an art person either

He’s a bit of a meathead

But he can appreciate art

Probably not as deeply as other people can

But he know when it looks good

And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever

He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders

And hang them on his locker

When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded

Like awestruck

What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?

Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night

Esme:

Resident artist

We already knew that tho

I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?

Idk

Either way she loves art

Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum

She loves it

So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?

Yeah she’s gonna start crying

She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love

She hangs it in the main room

It doesn’t matter if the colors clash

And it’s never coming down

Carlisle:

Another appreciater of the arts

I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old

So it’s no shock

Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw

Especially if he’s doing some paperwork

I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working

Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself

The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos

So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first

He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good

He hangs it up in your shared bedroom

Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden

He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain

But he secretly loves it so much

Vampire! Bella:

I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart

Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters

But she totally had an artsy phase

I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad

She just prefers to look at art rather than make it

So that’s where you come in

She loves just watching you work

Every once in a while she paints with you

But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made

So she usually just sticks to admiring

The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do

She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful

And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?

She needs to lie down

She loves it tho

[stromblessed]

this tweet is absolutely one of the milder ones i've seen on my feed which just proves i need to stop looking at twitter but this example of shipping goggles leading to basic misinterpretations of arcane season 1 scenes that are quite cut and dry thematically might be the straw that breaks my back

what do you MEAN Viktor was being gentle. what do you MEAN viktor was calm. he was not. Viktor says "you... ordered this? why?" he's surprised, offended, and sounds almost betrayed at the idea that jayce would order the blockade. viktor is confused, then flabbergasted, then angry, then furious. there is a gradient between "gentle and calm" and "screaming spitting mad" and viktor is somewhere in the middle of that gradient, but just because he isn't screaming and yelling at jayce, that doesn't mean he was either gentle or calm

"what difference does that make?" is also not calm - it's showing that Jayce has not been fully mask-off prejudiced in front of Viktor before, and Viktor is so thrown that Jayce would and does take the mask off in this moment, showing that Jayce is not so different from the average prejudiced citizen of Piltover despite being Viktor's friend, that he is genuinely asking what is going through Jayce's head. Viktoris trying to make Jayce make some sense, but the words do still show confusion and distress

and then "I'm from the undercity" IS angry, now that Viktor realizes what Jayce is saying and why. he is not being gentle or calm or even all that understanding towards Jayce - Viktor is hurt and angry and he lashes out to make Jayce think twice about what he's just said, though the damage has been done because Jayce's words and actions have combined to move us and Viktor towards an understanding of who Jayce is and what he truly believes when his back is up against the wall

also i can't count how many times people have re-interpreted Viktor slapping Jayce's hand away as a cute funny thing he does, rather than an act of anger - frustrated, righteous anger

the reason reading this made me so frustrated is because it's one more step toward the broader fandom's continuing re-imagining of Viktor as a mild, sweet, often passive character

and to take it one step further in what i've observed, it helps re-imagine Viktor as someone who is versed enough in the prejudices Zaunites face on the daily to easily handle Jayce's prejudiced words and behavior. this serves not only to make Viktor sweeter, gentler, and frankly smaller than he is in canon - especially in season 1 - but also, depending on the day, may try to make Viktor more "perfect" and noncombatant, ignorant or completely separated from the concept of the Piltover/Zaun conflict, a more "ideal" activist (an aspect of his character that is implied in season 1 and then is unfortunately all but abandoned in season 2), or just more well-versed in Zaun vs. Piltover sociopolitics, which he simply is not. Viktor is both clever, and also a messier, less heroic character than all that, while still being a target of Jayce's prejudice directly but mostly, usually, indirectly. and Viktor does not perfectly understand this. he only knows and sees enough to be offended and frustrated throughout the story

there's having one's own interpretations of canon, and then there's mischaracterizing consistently and constantly, leading to the state of the fandom today where it's increasingly difficult to have nuanced conversations about characters like Viktor or Jayce. why not ship jay//vik but WITH Viktor's anger, the complications, and the messiness

or is that not an option now that the writing of season 2 glossed over any difficult social or political concepts that did exist in season 1

[admiringlove]

falling stars. the sixth part of @angstober is here! i really loved writing this one, ugh. anyways, happy reading <3 masterlist of the event can be found here.

being immortal was both a blessing and a curse.

zhongli had always been the god of contracts. it was the essence of his existence, a purpose etched into the very marrow of his being. he wasn’t always the composed, reserved man who carried the weight of centuries with quiet dignity, his gaze heavy with the nostalgia of eras long past. no, once, he had been sharp and unyielding—a man who lived and breathed duty. his loyalty to liyue was unshakable. liyue came first. always.

duty was his creed, his unwavering religion. the god of stone and earth, as immovable as the mountains he shaped. whenever his focus wavered, that mantra echoed in his mind: liyue comes first. duty comes first. it was an unrelenting rhythm that kept his soul in check.

but then, somehow, you happened.

you were the anomaly, the gentle rain that smoothed his jagged edges. he never quite understood how you slipped past the walls he’d spent millennia building. the god of contracts, once as steadfast as the stone he commanded, found himself softened—worn down not by time but by your presence. you were like the tide, subtle yet persistent, shaping him with a patience he didn’t know could exist. his rigid mountains melted into quiet hills, his soul drenched in the warmth of your laughter, the soft glow of fireworks, and a nostalgia he had never allowed himself to feel.

and now, for the first time, zhongli questioned where duty ended and where you began. you weren’t just a fleeting moment in his never-ending timeline. no, you were something far greater. you held his entire existence in your hands, like magic woven into your fingertips. you weren’t just his past—you were his present, his future, everything all at once.

and he hates that he’s slowly forgetting you. hates that he's still here, living, while it’s been eons since he last heard your voice, since the scent of you clung to his memory.

your scent. it was the first to fade, slipping through his grasp as the years stretched on. he remembers fragments—how you always smelled of the river, like the waters of qingce village clung to you. you loved the water, always said it felt like home. he’d once joked that you should have been born in fontaine, where the tides ruled, but you loved him long before you knew who he truly was.

you loved your god, and your devotion to rex lapis was so pure, so sacred, that it unsettled even him. most revered him with fear, with trembling awe, but you—no, you loved him as effortlessly as breathing. it's how he'd found you, standing before his statue, lighting incense in the stillness of prayer. he approached as zhongli, hands behind his back, watching as you offered your quiet supplications.

"did you know he's the eldest of the seven?" he murmured, his gaze lifting to the likeness of himself carved in stone. there was something serene in your posture, a calmness that baffled him. most would pray with reverence or dread, but you. you smiled softly as you waved the incense in the air, placing it at the statue’s base.

"everyone knows he's the eldest," you replied, casting him a sideways glance, "but most people don’t realize that barbatos is the second eldest."

zhongli blinked, a flicker of surprise playing at his lips. it was true—his old friend, the carefree anemo god, was the second oldest, though few knew this because of barbatos’ lighthearted demeanor.

"you seem well-versed in the ways of the gods," he remarked, curiosity piqued as he watched you. you chuckled, the sound light and warm. "my father’s a priest. i suppose that’s why. but i think rex lapis is different from the others."

zhongli’s interest deepened. he tilted his head. "how so?"

"you’ll laugh if i tell you," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips before you looked back at the statue, "but i think he’s a romantic. being the eldest must come with so much responsibility. i imagine he’s tired, weary from the weight of it all. from all of us."

zhongli frowned, something in your words striking a strange chord within him. "but that is his duty, is it not?" he asked, his brow furrowing, unsettled by the way your insight crawled beneath his skin.

you simply shook your head, smiling to yourself. "duty and purpose don’t always align, you know. rex lapis is a magnificent god, strong and wise. but i like to think he’s also present in the small moments, like an old friend. sometimes, i talk to him about my day."

zhongli’s gaze sharpened, a mix of amusement and suspicion in his eyes. "do you now?" he asked, voice low. "then perhaps he’s listening."

"if only," you laughed softly, the sound like wind brushing through leaves. "gods are mysterious creatures. i doubt they have the time to listen to a priest’s child ramble on about their mundane life."

if only you had known how closely he listened, how deeply your words had taken root within him, like seeds planted in the fertile soil of his heart. you were like water—gentle yet unyielding—flowing into the spaces between his thoughts, shaping him without him even realizing. after that day, you became something he could never quite shake, lingering like the soft glow of a lantern after dark—an ever-present warmth, like coming home after centuries spent wandering.

he finds you again, unexpectedly, sitting alone by the harbor in liyue city. there’s a heaviness to your expression, your brow furrowed as your eyes gaze out at the endless stretch of the sea, as if seeking solace in its waves. the wind tugs at your hair, carrying the salt of the ocean in the air, and you sigh—a quiet, resigned sound that makes something tighten in his chest. he watches you for a moment longer before making his way toward you.

"it’s you," he murmurs, his voice soft as the breeze, "from qingce village."

your head lifts slowly, and at first, your gaze holds no recognition, dulled by the weight of your troubles. but then, your eyes widen, lighting up with sudden relief. "you! by rex lapis, am i glad to see you."

his amber eyes, with their distinct diamond-shaped pupils, flicker in surprise. he hadn’t expected that reaction. you press on, your words tumbling out with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "this city is impossible. my father sent me here to assist a doctor with medicinal herbs, but i’m completely lost. and not one statue of morax inside the city! not one! where am i supposed to go every morning to pray?"

a small chuckle escapes him, low and warm, and he tilts his head slightly. "that is true. the nearest statue is just beyond the city’s borders, but it can be a dangerous journey. perhaps... you could join me for tea each morning instead. madame ping brews the finest oolong, and we often sit together in the high grounds before i start my day. you might even find your doctor there."

"really?" your face lights up, like the skies of liyue igniting during lantern rite, a spark of hope rekindled in your eyes. "you’d do that for me? include me in your routine, even though you barely know me?"

he smiles softly, settling onto the bench beside you. "you’re fond of rex lapis, aren’t you? so is madame ping. and so am i. i believe you’d make for good company."

"that’s... incredibly kind of you," you murmur, fingers loosening their tight grip on the straps of your bag, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice. "i never got your name, though."

he turns to face you, his gaze steady, the sunlight catching the red liner beneath his amber eyes, making them glow with a soft, almost ethereal light. "zhongli," he replies, watching you carefully, as though gauging your reaction.

you take in a slow breath, your eyes widening slightly as you look at him, something shifting in the air between you, fragile and significant all at once. "you know," you say, your voice a little softer now, "zhongli, you have a very familiar face."

he chuckles, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the quiet of the harbor. "do i, now?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

and so, the friendship between you and, unbeknownst to you, rex lapis began. you spoke of him in the way a devout follower might speak of their deity, yet with a warmth, a familiarity, that zhongli couldn’t quite grasp. it was as if, in your heart, rex lapis was not a distant god ruling from on high, but a cherished friend; someone you could confide in without fear. and that comforted him in a way nothing else had. for once, someone revered him not out of awe or terror, but out of love. someone placed rex lapis on a pedestal for reasons beyond his power, beyond his duty. simply because they cared for him, deeply, genuinely.

perhaps that was why fate had woven your paths together. to teach him that he was more than his role, more than the weight of his eternal duty. to remind him that his purpose did not need to be solely bound to protecting liyue until the end of time. there could be more—there was more.

"i don’t think i can love anyone as much as i love the god of geo," you once confessed, after finally mastering the confusing streets of liyue harbor. the two of you were descending the stone steps after your usual morning tea with auntie ping—though now, you had grown fond enough of her to call her that. zhongli’s brow raised at your words, his steps slowing to match your pace, for you were always a little slower, always taking your time. "what do you mean by that?"

"i don’t know," you sighed, your gaze flickering to the distant horizon, "i have this... strange relationship with rex lapis. i love him. i idolize him. i think of him as an old friend, someone i can share my burdens with. but i also feel that... if someone were to love me, it would be hard for me to return the same intensity. i think it would pale in comparison to the way i love him." your voice trailed off, quieter, more uncertain. "it’s strange. like i said, a strange feeling to have. i don’t even know why i’m telling you this."

zhongli’s eyes softened as he watched you, his lips curving into a gentle, knowing smile. "i believe the word you’re searching for is sacred," he said quietly.

you blinked, surprised by his response, and for a brief moment, you narrowed your eyes at him as if trying to figure something out. because that familiar feeling tugged at you again—like a jigsaw falling into place, though you couldn’t quite see the whole picture yet. the way he smiled at you, the way he seemed to understand. it made your heart skip, just a little.

and, without realizing it, you began to favor a certain funeral parlor consultant over the god you once idolized.

he made you smile wider than you ever had, more than you ever did for rex lapis. zhongli had quietly woven himself into the fabric of your life, so seamlessly that it left you baffled, wondering when it all began. your days started to revolve around him—sometimes even your nights. he would tell you stories of liyue’s ancient history as if he had witnessed every moment himself, painting vivid pictures of a time long past. it left you in awe, admiring him more with every tale, until the realization struck like a wave crashing against the shore.

you had come to love zhongli more than rex lapis.

the thought gripped you with quiet terror. the way his eyes would crinkle with a knowing smile, the way his soft chuckles echoed in the silence after you mentioned your god—it all made your heart stumble, beat after beat. he was hiding something, you knew it. and it wasn’t just you who noticed. even auntie ping, with her ageless wisdom, seemed in on the secret. zhongli had once called her an old friend, but just how old, you couldn’t quite tell.

"how did you meet auntie ping?" you asked one evening, crossing the bridge near the funeral parlor, heading towards dinner. he paused, a flicker of hesitation passing through his amber eyes. "i don’t quite remember anymore," he said quietly, "we’ve simply been friends for a very long time. there was another once, but... she’s gone now. her name was guizhong."

"was she beautiful?" the question left your lips before you could stop yourself. "was she clever?"

his soft laugh carried through the evening air. "immensely," he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "we miss her, every now and then."

"did she..." your voice faltered as you stopped in your tracks. "did she pass away?"

he nodded, a touch of sadness lingering in his expression before he resumed walking. you remained rooted in place, pieces of a larger puzzle scattering through your mind. but it was as if your thoughts grew foggy whenever you were near him—like familiarity slipping through your fingers, just beyond reach. zhongli glanced back at you, tilting his head ever so slightly. "aren’t you coming?"

you murmured a soft “yes” and quickened your steps to catch up, brushing away the weight of your thoughts. "how did morax befriend cloud retainer?" you asked, steering the conversation back to familiar ground. he seemed to know so much more about your god than even your father, things lost to time.

and with every answer he gave, you found yourself more bewildered than before.

your curiosity always brought a quiet joy to zhongli, a chance for him to indulge in your questions, your wonder. at first, he thought nothing of it, simply an opportunity to share the knowledge he had gathered over centuries. but slowly, he found himself captivated, drawn to you in ways that puzzled even him. he started accompanying you outside the city, watching you in silence as you lit incense and knelt before the statue of rex lapis. but today, something was different. your expression had shifted, lips set in a thin, guilty line. like a river running cold, your posture stiffened as if weighed by an unspoken burden.

"is something troubling you?" his voice was gentle, though there was a faint edge of concern as he watched you stare up at the stone likeness of the god. you blinked, shaken from your daze, shaking your head with a quiet denial. but zhongli had known you long enough to see through the facade. "you’re different today. while you pray."

your throat tightened, words tangling within you. how could you admit that the man beside you, the one you’d come to know for mere months, had taken up more space in your heart than the god you had worshipped all your life? it was a storm within you, like water crashing through the valleys of your soul, eroding the bedrock of belief you had built.

"i can’t tell you," you murmured, turning your back to him. "this is between me and rex lapis."

"am i not your friend?" his voice was soft, almost too soft. "am i not as close to you as rex lapis is?"

he faltered then, realizing the weight of his words. what had he just revealed? he hoped the slip of his tongue wouldn’t shatter the delicate line he had walked all this time. you were clever—more clever than anyone he’d known—but perhaps your heart would refuse to see the truth.

yet why had he even said it? he was rex lapis, wasn’t he? so why did it matter that zhongli, the mortal, had become more important to you than the god? why did he feel envy, for his own self?

"you are not him," you whispered, a note of disturbance in your voice. "you are mortal. he is my god."

"he is your friend," zhongli replied quietly, searching your face, "and so am i. if something troubles you, something that disturbs your prayer, why not tell me? i don’t want to see you unhappy like this."

"i can’t," you insisted, your shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "why don’t you understand-"

"but why not?"

"because i’m in love with you!" the words bursted from you, raw and trembling in the space between you both. your voice did not crack with tears, but the defeat in your eyes spoke of an agony deeper than tears could show. "and you’ve taken up more space in my life than my god. and that... that breaks me."

the confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, as if the world itself had stilled in the wake of your words.

"oh," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "i am sorry."

he watched as your face twisted in thought, a realization settling behind your eyes, something heavy and final. "i know," you murmured, turning away, your voice distant. "we should head back into the city before it gets dark."

"wait, i must tell you-"

"no, zhongli." you shook your head, your defeat palpable. "i know you don’t feel the same. it’s alright. i shouldn’t feel this way either. i’m supposed to love him more."

"but i do feel the same," he said, his voice suddenly firm, cutting through your words with a softness that startled you. "i feel the same, so why shouldn’t you?"

your mind went blank. his words left you utterly speechless, like the world had tipped sideways. you blinked up at him, confusion written across your furrowed brows, eyes glassy as you struggled to make sense of what he had just said. it felt almost sacrilegious. zhongli stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder with the familiarity of an old friend. "it is why i want to spend every moment of my life with you. why i want you to stay by my side until my last breath. is that not fair?"

you stared at him, blinking rapidly, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. how could this be real? how could the man who had become your constant, your guide, feel the same way you did? he spoke again, his voice steady and warm, as though wrapping you in a promise. "if you love morax so much, then let’s draw a contract between us. that you will love me with the same intensity as you love him. and in return, i’ll help you love him more. i will tell you stories about him, i will show you more of liyue harbor, i will take you to the temples, and pray alongside you until your last breath—if that is what keeps you content."

his words washed over you like a tide, a promise carved from stone and time. you felt the weight of it, the gravity of his offer. this man, this mortal, who had unknowingly become the center of your world, was offering himself wholly to you—not in opposition to the god you revered, but alongside him, like two halves of the same whole. it was a contract, a binding of hearts, one that felt as sacred as the prayers you had once whispered at the foot of the statue.

and so another chapter of zhongli’s infinitely long life began. but you were not infinite—you were fleeting, a moment in time that would fade. you aged like the finest wines of mondstadt, while he remained the same: tall, revered, handsome. your hair greyed, lines formed at the corners of your eyes, and soon, you grew older than auntie ping. and then, just like that, you were gone.

the scent of you vanished with the passing breeze, the smell of the rivers from qingce village where you grew up, the fragrance of old history books you lovingly stored, cleaned, and kept in your home. all of it—gone.

but zhongli remembers. he remembers every lantern rite spent by your side, watching the fireworks burst in the sky, but always, always watching you instead. the way your eyes lit up in awe at the colors that painted the night sky—he treasures it more than any celebration. and even after you were gone, liyue continued to bustle, unchanged. and zhongli stayed the same.

he lived on, because immortality was both a blessing and a curse. every year, he would stand on the high grounds, watching the fireworks bloom in the heavens with a weight in his chest that only grew heavier with time. and every year, he thought of you—your boundless curiosity, your devotion that never wavered.

he remembers the day he found your letter, tucked away like a relic, jagged edges and all. the curiosity that once led you to him now led him to unfold that paper with trembling hands. your words were simple, but they cut deep.

you had told him to live a long life—how ironic. as if he could do anything but. to eat well, as if you were still there, cooking for him each morning and night. to drink tea with ping, because you knew the weight of his loneliness. and you told him you loved him, as if he didn't already know, as if he couldn’t feel it in the way you breathed life into everything around you.

and then, what struck him most, what lingered in the back of his mind even after centuries passed, was how you signed it.

"thank you for everything, rex lapis. i leave you with love."

it was the last thing he had from you, and yet it was more than enough to keep your memory alive—because in the end, you had known. you had always known.

in his long life, he had done countless great things, and shall do countless more still. as they say: the waters change course, but the mountains move not.

so zhongli continues to live. carrying your love with him like an echo in his heart, as eternal as he was.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

For the NSFW Asks, what are Macaque and Sun Wukong favorite spots to fuck their S/O?

NSFW alphabet with Macaque and Sun Wukong (separately with reader)

Macaque~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s the best at aftercare since he is already well-versed at reading people and you’re no different. You both are very good at communication so unless he’s fucked you so your only able to mumble you’re able to say what you want. Usually, it consists of a warm bath for both of you and drying off with a warm before drinking some water or warm tea as you cuddle together.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of yours is your thighs and neck because there’s so much soft skin to mark up and bite, not to mention how plush they are for him to grab and rest his head on. Your neck is the perfect place to take in your scent and mark up your neck for all to see that you’re taken.

Your favorite body part of his is of course his beautiful six ears and how they’re all so sensitive, fluttering and twitching at every touch or kiss you press to the shell of one of his ears. Another favorite part is his chest, how it’s decorated with beautiful scars showing how strong your mate is in addition to his conviction to protect you and the flustered reactions you get from trailing kisses down it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to cum in you as a sign of possession and he loves how it looks when his cum is dripping out of your hole. The feeling of you squeezing him as he orgasms in you makes him feel like you’re his and how he’s able to do something no one else can as your mate.

He will respect your decision if you don’t want him to cum inside you and pull out, smirking as he cums on your face and kissing you. Regardless of wherever he cums he’s going to clean it off with a warm damp cloth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’d never tell anyone this but he would love to be worshipped and praised for hours about every aspect of him. Specifically about his ears and how he looks without glamour because he’s already very hesitant to show people what he really looks like and if he hears praise from you he’ll be putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As much as he acts all suave and smooth he isn’t that experienced however it doesn’t mean he’s terrible at it. On the contrary, Macaque learns very quickly by your reactions and what you like and don’t like. Even finding little favorite spots to worship on your body that you didn’t even know existed and always checking in to see if you’re alright or if anything he’s doing is hurting you. Either way, he’s going to find out through soft lustful whispers or silent lewd actions.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Macaque’s fine with any position as long as he gets to see your face and those gorgeous expressions of pure ecstasy you make. Because of his trauma with Lady Bone Demon, he doesn’t like being in any restricting position like having his hands or legs bound and unable to move like he’s caged in. He generally wants to be close to you, to kiss you, and to hold you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Macaque’s a mix of both but is more serious than goofy and does tease you or playfully mock you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Granted he is a monkey so the word “groomed” has a different meaning for them and he is very well groomed (you help him since it’s a relaxing activity for both of you). He knows there’s definitely animal fur-safe dye but one he’s not taking any chances and two he just doesn’t wanna dye his fur.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to be romantic but Macaque has his own way of being romantic towards you and though to others it might seem strange or distant you know it really is loving. He is very intimate though and gives so much loving pleasure that shows every ounce of care he has for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Macaque does masturbate whenever he can’t be with you when he’s aroused since he’s not going to steal you from any important work you’re doing to fuck you as much as he wants to. He has patience.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Primal play games, breeding, praise, body worship, teasing, and marking.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite places to fuck you are private places and places that are his. He doesn’t want to risk anyone walking in on both of you for obvious reasons but the risk factor of possibly being seen makes his heart rate spike and makes him even harder. It should go unsaid that any place that either of you find uncomfortable or don’t want to fuck in is going to be respected on both sides.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any reactions you give when he’s training or working out since it’s very obvious for him to feel when someone is looking at him. Seeing you sweat from post work out or flushed face.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

This is obvious but anything that hurts you or brings up any trauma for both of you. Other than that he’s willing to try stuff out but will draw lines for your safety both physically and mentally (green, yellow, red color codes check-ins).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He has no preference for giving or receiving but he adores giving you oral sex because he knows how to play your body like an instrument and fully loves drawing orgasm after orgasm from you while anchoring your hips so you can’t pull up unless you yell the safeword.

Like before Macaque doesn’t have much experience if any but he’s a very quick learner and becomes very skilled just by trial and error with your reactions. Even more skilled if you tell him what to do and what not to do in regards to what you like or want.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both if it’s been a rough day and some things that irritated him or someone came onto you then you’re in for a rough fucking (ofc your safety is the top priority even though it’s intense). If you’re both feeling soft toward each other then you’ll have very sweet loving and sensual sex.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He finds them okay and is open to them since he can make them just as pleasurable as long sessions and it can be done just as skilled.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to try stuff out and experiment as long as it doesn’t hurt either of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It’s Macaque. Someone equal to Sun Wukong. He can go for hours and will still have a good amount of stamina thanks to the regular training he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own toys and doesn’t know how to use them well but one quick Google search or conversation with you will solve that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This should be obvious as Macaque will tease you till you give up or can’t function and is merciless.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn’t that loud despite how he is very dramatic and makes hushed moans and groans. Loud enough for you to hear and for his voice to become scratchy if you both do have sex for multiple rounds.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a possessive motherfucker so expect your body to be covered in hickeys and bruises. Most of them he purposely made so you can hide them but there are a few that are pretty hard to hide so others can see you already have a mate.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Again with the training he does and the amount of battles he’s been in he’s pretty toned and muscular which he’s more than willing to show off. However, with everything he’s gone through his body is littered with scars, and many of them he purposely hides because he thinks they’re all ugly, especially his blind scarred right eye.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It depends if he's worked up then it’s pretty high but most of the time it’s a normal amount if the world isn’t ending like the normal hijinx that happens.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s not going to fall asleep until you’re asleep and taken care of.

Sun Wukong~ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You’re going to have to tell him what to do or give him some advice besides common sense since he’s not totally familiar with them. He can help with a lot i.e. bringing you to the hot springs on the mountain to clean you up, cuddling with you in his nest of blankets, or getting you food or water from the orchard or freshwater streams.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Without a doubt, his favorite part is your hips or thighs since there is so much space to mark up for others to see you’re his mate and lover. They’re also so plush and easy to grab and squeeze when he’s worshipping you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Like Macaque he wants to cum inside you because someday he’d love to have kids and would love nothing than to breed you. Of course, if you’re not okay with it then he’ll gladly pull out and if you’re on birth control you’re gonna have to explain it to him cause he doesn’t exactly get how he can cum in you but not get you pregnant.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Even though you both are bare to each other Wukong still wants to keep his glamours up since he thinks he looks ugly without them and in his mind who could blame him? From being thrown into the trigram furnace which gave him his scary red eyes, being burned by the samadhi fire which singed his fur in many places to having scars around his head from the circlet. So please give him all the love he deserves which is all the love you can give and more.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He acts like he has experience and knows what to do but he has zero experience and it kind of shows even though he puts on a good act of being confident and cocky about it. Of course, he has a rough idea of what to do but he wants to make it as pleasurable as he can for you so help him out and give him some advice.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He doesn’t really know the names of any of the positions just more of an idea of how each person is positioned but he adores being able to see all the faces you make when he’s fucking you stupid. He’s not as flexible as people might think but he can do a lot of positions and is very curious about trying different positions with you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Short answer, yes. Long answer, have you seen this man er- monkey rather because he is so silly and that doesn’t stop for when you’re in the bedroom. He’ll make jokes on occasion about your reactions or act like he can’t hear what you when you beg just to hear you more.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Granted he is a monkey so the word “groomed” has a different meaning for them and he is very well groomed (you help him since it’s a relaxing activity for both of you). He knows there’s definitely animal fur-safe dye and can be convinced but it takes a lot with the promise that it can’t be extreme or large.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s very intimate and loving during the moment. He loves to be cheesy both in and out of the bedroom, it comes out way more when he’s with you than with the others, and mostly falls into laughter because he catches himself staring lovingly/lustfully at you (it’s become a habit at this point.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Because he’s extremely isolated and unfortunately can’t always have you with him or you can’t take him with you he only has one option if he gets horny. He masturbates more than one would think but he is extremely touch-starved (both him and mac are).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Primal play games, breeding, praise, body worship, and marking.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite places to fuck you are private places and places that are his. He doesn’t want to risk anyone walking in you both since that thought alone makes him furious and of you for obvious reasons since you’re his mate and his alone. It should go unsaid that any place that either of you find uncomfortable or don’t want to fuck in is going to be respected on both sides. However, it is difficult since both of you worry that one of his siblings will walk in which is bad for both sides since neither one of you wants the monkeys to be traumatized from seeing something they shouldn’t of.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

All it really takes for him is to see you working out/ sweating or especially affectionate as much as he will deny it because if the time gap between you both seeing one another is big then yeah he’s going to be motivated.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

This is obvious but anything that hurts you or brings up any trauma for both of you. Other than that he’s willing to try stuff out but will draw lines for your safety both physically and mentally (green, yellow, red color codes check-ins).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving you oral sex because of the noises he can coax out of you and how your body writhes in pleasure with each orgasm he causes. He won’t stop you if you want to suck his dick and very much enjoys it, praising you for what you’re doing and not stopping the moans leaving his mouth. All in all, he is more leaning towards giving but is happy receiving.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both if it’s been a rough day and some things that irritated him or someone came onto you then you’re in for a rough fucking (ofc your safety is the top priority even though it’s intense). If you’re both feeling soft toward each other then you’ll have very sweet loving and sensual sex which is usually what happens since he loves worshiping you while taking it slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t like it much but it is helpful when MK is coming over to train he forgets so he’s trying to convince you in his way that you both have plenty of time despite knowing you don’t. He can and will make them just a satisfying compared to when you take your time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Wukong is absolutely down to experiment (as long as it’s safe and consensual) with different kinks or positions and may suggest some himself. He is a risk taker but it’s more toned down now and he’s more wary of the consequences from said risks, doesn’t mean he’s going to half-ass fucking you stupid until his name in the only thing you can say.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It’s Sun Wukong, The Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Someone who took on all of heaven and didn’t break a sweat. He can go for hours and will still have a good amount of stamina thanks to the regular training he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own toys because of the obvious reasons of he doesn’t need sex toys since he doesn’t even understand why someone would want a machine in you even if gives you pleasure. You’re going to have to explain it in other ways ;) and he’ll come around, seeing how/why people like using vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, gags, nipple clamps, etc and how he can make you’re body melt into euphoria with the help of these help little devices. He will tease you if you own any and ask if you’ve thought of him whenever you use them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn’t tease as much as Macaque but he still loves the reactions you give when he teases you and much prefers to fluster you with spooking you in different forms like when he was a bird or a butterfly. He teases you maybe 2 or 3 times a day but loves every second of it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s loud and makes a lot of groans, praising you about how warm you are and how you grip his cock just right.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He for sure asks you if he can use his clones in the bedroom and the moment you say yes is when 3 or 4 Wukongs, including the real one, are marking you up so people know you’re his. He doesn’t get jealous of his clones usually but there are times and they’ll all compete to see which one can make you cum the fastest or give you the most pleasure.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Again with the training he does and the amount of battles he’s been in he’s pretty toned and muscular which he’s more than willing to show off. He does have a bit of a dad bod which isn’t bad but you find it cute and especially the little peach colored heart on his chest. Unfortunately because of his actions against heaven and his tough journey to deliver the scriptures with his master the king has many scars from serious injuries as well as the samadhi fire burning (singes)his fur in places. One of his insecurities is his fire red eyes from the trigram furnace. Every one of his insecurities under his usual light armor you find attractive and beautiful, complimenting how handsome he is whenever he undresses and kissing each scar with so much gentle love.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Wukong’s sex drive is pretty high given he is clingy (in a good way) and wants to be around you so much, if it’s including how touch-starved he is then he loves to make love to you as it’s the best way to show how much you mean to him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s very tired after any session since it’s definitely more than one or more rounds but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and relaxed. Wukong tries his very best to do aftercare right since you’re his mate but sometimes he wonders if there’s anything else he can do to make you more comfortable. Maybe tell him what you want and it’ll be yours, if it cuddles then you aren’t getting away from him until morning or until you have to leave.

[cilil]

In this space we welcome and accept all sorts of OCs.

OCs who have existed for many years, with a proud and/or messy history to look back on

OCs who are new and fresh and/or still in development

OCs who were remade from a past version of themselves

OCs who were brought back after their creator deleted them in the past, out of shame, because of bullying or otherwise

OCs who may get never brought back by their creator, but still exist in their memory

The more-or-less-OC textual ghosts who were never fleshed out in canon and got adopted by different people as their own characters

OCs who were created for one specific purpose/story/situation and evolved from there or stayed that way

OCs who were made to be shipped with a canon character

OCs who were made to be shipped with other OCs

OCs who were made to be the child or relative of a canon character, regardless of canon indicating the existence of a textual ghost there or if the possibility was left open or not

OCs who are self-inserts or reflect particular personal experiences of their creator

OCs whose existence is not perfectly canon-compliant

OCs who have their own verses in which they exist

OCs who have different versions across verses, as canon characters do too

OCs who were brought in and adapted from other versions of themselves in different universes or franchises because they accompany their creator on their journeys

OCs.

I don't have to like or understand them (though don't get me wrong, I love a lot of my friends' OCs), you don't have to, the fandom doesn't have to; the only thing that matters is that their creator is having fun in their corner and that makes them valid enough💗