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catmask · 1 year ago
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does anyone have like an anti aesthetic. like something you look at and can recognize as a complete fashion/interior design/artistic movement and understand it but it makes you shudder seeing it. i am not talking like “its morally bad” “its poorly structured” like just sheerly devoid of joy for you actually invites a repulse response.
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silicated · 3 months ago
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legacy
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luzity · 2 years ago
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new scenes from for the future 
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tangledinink · 1 year ago
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I’ve been having your aus in my brain for a while. I absolutely love them 🥰
Question for Swanatello, have you ever had a strong desire to go back home to the lair or do you even remember much about the lair being your home, even with the bracelet and board? Like, have you ever in the middle of the day just randomly think “I want to go home” while thinking about the lair?
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Of course he does. He doesn't remember details very often... but the one downside of the bracelet is that now he is almost constantly aware that something is wrong. Even when he doesn't understand what's going on-- he almost always knows that something is wrong with him and with the world around him. He wishes for things he can't remember. He aches over the absence of things that he can't recall. He misses people that he doesn't know. He can't remember home, but he knows he's not there.
Swanatello hates to be alone now. Overall, it's for the best, it helps, but every evening he's introduced to the idea that something is horribly wrong, and then he's promised that someone is going to be there soon to help. And every evening, he has to wait to see if that promise will be fulfilled and if his family will come and help him.
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st5lker · 30 days ago
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hi this is all the money i have to my name right now and its midterm season, i know there are a lot of people in the world that need donations more than me right now and i hope you’ve been donating to them too but if you have anything at all else you can spare so that i can have more time to focus on my studies without worrying abt affording food and gas id really really appreciate it
venmo
paypal
cashapp
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sleepyyywriter · 2 months ago
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Just You Is Enough For Me
A/N: I’d like to point out that my recollection of the movie is vague because I have only watched it once, but I needed a fix it fic asap. This one is for me but if you enjoy, yay! (Also, might’ve altered or moved events around but, you know. Fiction. Also, also! I did ridiculous research on pleas and whatnot and again, because this is fiction, I used what I liked and ignored the rest.)
Word Count: 8k
Genre: Fluff, fix-it fic
Heads up, this is not the fic for you if you liked Lee's character. Sorry.
Finally, thanks to @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend for listening to me spiral about Arthur and for giving me the space to come up with this idea. Love youuuu! 💜
The pencil in her hand snapped in half as she gazed up at Arthur, her eyes wide and the terror clear as day in them. The biggest mistake he could make at this point was firing them as counsel.
“My client needs a break, your hon-“
Before she even knew what she was doing, she had grabbed at Arthur’s suit and yanked him down, her eyes boring into his and effectively halting his protests.
She wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell him with her eyes, she couldn’t actually say anything aloud, even if she could get her mouth to open, but Y/N needed him to understand what she knew in her heart.
They were his only shot at not rotting at Arkham for the rest of his life. They were his only shot at getting the help he so desperately needed. That he deserved and had been denied his whole existence. She knew that, why didn’t he?
The voices around her sounded so distant as they looked into each other’s eyes, hers pleading and his avoidant.
No. Not avoidant. He was looking for her, no doubt. All he did was look for her, the one responsible for this shitshow. The one who was in it for the fame and publicity that came with being the joker’s girlfriend, or whatever the fuck she was.
Y/N knew about her, who didn’t? And she hated her. She told herself it was because of the harm she was causing Arthur’s case. And because it was so obvious she didn’t actually care for him. Not all of him anyway. But if she were to be honest with herself… Well. There was no time for that right not.
Right now, they had to figure out if there was a way to salvage any of this.
As they made their way to the room they were provided with by the court, Y/N could tell Maryanne was pissed. They had been dealing with the repercussions of everything Lee said and did in front of the media, and Arthur’s outburst could very well be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if Maryanne herself asked to be dropped as counsel.  
As the bailiff shackled Arthur to the table at the center of the room, Y/N intercepted Maryanne at the door, involuntarily cringing at the glare sent her way.
“Let me talk to him first?”
“This is not the place for your stupid cru-“
Y/N yelped and shut the door, hoping Arthur hadn’t heard that from the other side.
“This has nothing to do with that!” she interrupted, lightly shouldering Maryanne away from the door and towards the bench outside of the room. “You need to calm down. If you go in there, guns blazing, he is going to shut down and we won’t be able to convince him to stay.”
“You think we can? You think you can?” she sneered, her lips pursing in anger as she massaged her temple with her fingers.
Y/N smiled tightly and made her way back into the room, “I’m gonna fucking try.”
-----------------------------
She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, arms across her chest as she leaned into the closed door, her eyes on the squirming, hunched over figure in front of her.
A part of her was trying to find the words, nice ones at least, to try to talk some sense into Arthur. Another part of herself, the pettier side, was enjoying how uncomfortable Arthur seemed.
Good. She hoped he knew he had fucked up. She especially hoped he knew how he had hurt her feelings.
She was very aware the crush was one sided, judging by the dopey smile he got on his stupidly handsome face every time Lee was brought up. And that was okay. Really! Her main concern was getting Arthur the help he needed, not any silly schoolgirl fantasies her exhausted brain would concoct right before she passed out on her bed.
Y/N had accompanied Maryanne from day one as she worked Arthur’s case, and she thought they had formed a friendship. Maryanne of course cared for him and wanted to help; she was more centered, maybe even more professional? And that why she was so damn good at her job.
Y/N was the younger associate. She could afford to be swayed by emotions. She could afford the reassuring smiles and the daily jokes and teasing banter. She was the good cop to the clients. And more so with Arthur. She could still remember how skittish he was at the beginning. How accustomed he was to people hurting him or making fun of him, that he didn’t talk to them at all for the first three days.
It wasn’t until Y/N told a joke, a very bad one she profusely apologized for, that he finally acknowledged them. She remembered how her heart ached at the sight of his scabbing eyebrow and his busted lip. How a smile made its way to her lips at the sight of his smile, so child-like and innocent and a perfect match for the twinkling seas of juniper leaves in his eyes.
It was with that memory in her head and those emotions in her heart that she finally moved. She pulled the chair next to him and sat, her elbow on the table as she rested her face on her palm.
“What the fuck, Arthur?” she sighed, her eyes searching his.
Laughter burst from his lips, but she recognized this one. It wasn’t that breathy huff before a genuine smile painted his lips. This was the laughter he couldn’t contain. The one that hurt him and wouldn’t let him get enough oxygen into his lungs. This was the laughter that left him hunched over in pain, gasping for air and afraid.
Y/N pursed her lips, mentally kicking herself for triggering him like this, and placed her hand on his back as she hummed Durante’s Smile, hoping it was as comforting for him as it was for her.
He was always singing something, nothing she ever knew of course. He had once wrinkled his nose in the most adorable way when she had played some of her music for him, her AC/DC and Bon Jovi “too loud” for him. She had laughed and they had both agreed that music could be important to both of them without necessarily meaning the same type of music.
Still, this one was one of the few “oldies” she had in her repertoire, and she hoped it was offering him some comfort.
As his chest stopped heaving and his laughter had been reduced to sporadic bursts that didn’t leave him as breathless, he began to speak.
“Lee is trying to free me. She is helping me, Y/N.”
“Arthur,” she began, her eyes shutting as she tried to keep her distaste for Lee from her face.
“We’re going to build a mountain! We’re going to be happy! And you just want me locked up. She said-”
Her hands balled into fist over his suit, and she had to make a conscious effort to pull away and not pull at his clothes.
“She said what, Arthur?” she asked, her voice tight with poorly disguised anger.
“That you- you don’t want to help. That- that you’re like them. You underestimate me and you think I’m dumb, and you don’t care about me. And-”
She raised her hand to silence him, using the other to push away from the table and get herself to her feet, needing space from him.
“I’m here, jeopardizing my job to beg you to please let us help you. Every day I go home from the office, I have to make sure nobody is following to scream at me, throw rotten shit at me or hit me because I am defending you. Which has happened by the way. And every day, every fucking day Arthur, I go back into that office and stay there until the break of fucking dawn trying to find a way to help you. And you’re telling me I don’t care? Because the one who is actively sabotaging your defense told you so?”
Maryanne came back inside at that, surprise on her face at the tone Y/N had taken which usually only she used when she needed to strongarm stubborn clients.
“You know what? I actually don’t fucking care whether you fire Maryanne or not. I quit regardless.”
Y/N ignored Maryanne’s calls and she certainly didn’t look back at Arthur as she stormed out of the room, with what felt like her whole heart stuck in her throat as she blinked the tears away.
She knew it wasn’t fair to talk to Arthur like that and much less to up and abandon him. Even if that was what he was asking for. She had proved to him once more that everyone left him when he needed them the most, but his words had cut her too deep.
She had poured her heart into doing everything in her power to help. She had called witnesses, she had read over files numerous times, fighting through the tears as she read about every despicable thing Arthur had lived through.
When what she read began plaguing her dreams, she would get back up and continue her work at home, hoping to find the smoking gun that would get the world to see he wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. He was a product of his fucked-up upbringing and the disregard society had for the poor and ill. Arthur needed help, proper help he was not going to receive where he was currently locked up at and so every day she worked. How could he say she didn’t care? How could he believe her? Y/N was in his corner first. Which was a stupid sentiment. Childish even. She still couldn’t stop feeling it.
-------------------------------
Y/N couldn’t remember how she had gotten home. She must’ve taken the right buses because there she was, keys in her hand and her back to her door as she blinked into her dark apartment.
With a sigh, broken and drawn out, she took off her shoes and chucked her briefcase and purse somewhere into the living room. She’d look for them in the morning but now, she was a woman on a mission as she stalked toward her kitchen, two things on her mind. Vodka and ice cream.
As she carried her bowl and the entire bottle into the living room, the phone rang. She groaned and looked down at her occupied hands. There was clearly only one thing to do. Y/N poured a hefty amount of vodka into her ice cream and set the bottle aside as she grabbed the phone and carefully held it between her ear and shoulder.
“What the hell happened to ‘I’m gonna fucking try’?” the voice on the other end laughed.
“I will hang up on you if you’re calling to scream at me. Or make fun of me. I’m off the clock, you can do it tomorrow and pay me for it,” she grumbled, shoveling a spoonful of her special ice-cream into her mouth.
“You’ve been ballsy today,” Maryanne snorted and Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound.
“Can I help you or…?”
“He’s not firing us.”
“Good! Best of luck to y-”
“-on one condition. He wants you back on the case.”
Y/N scoffed, wincing as the too big spoonful of ice cream momentarily froze her brain. “And you told him to fuck off?”
“I most certainly did not. I said we would go up to see him tomorrow bright and early because you have a good head on your shoulders and a lengthy career ahead of you and you’re not going to let a stupid crush keep you from working this case, winning it, and watching your career take off.”
Y/N glared into her bowl, her eyes following the puddle forming around the lump of speckled white, both from the vodka she had added and the heat from her hands that was melting the rest.
“He’s a person. Why can’t we just help him because he deserves it? Not because of what that can do for us?”
Maryanne sighed and her tone softened, “We’re doing that too, Y/N.”
They spent a couple of minutes on the line going over ideas on how to salvage the shitshow that was today before they both agreed to meet at Arkham bright early tomorrow morning.
Y/N had an idea. She thought it would gain sympathy from the jury and get rid of Lee. That would break Arthur, but it would help their case. Even if it meant he hated her for it.
-----------------------------------
Y/N refused to look at him. It was “Mr. Fleck” this and that and even Maryanne couldn’t contain her laugh.
Still, the backstabbing bitch found a way to leave them alone for a bit, something about speaking to the warden about something. Oh, Y/N could’ve killed her.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I-”
Okay, maybe shoving an unlit cigarette in his mouth was childish, but if it kept him from speaking to her, who was actually winning?
Absentmindedly, she lit the cigarette with the lighter she always seemed to carry now. Even though she didn’t smoke. This definitely did not coincide with meeting Arthur.
Arthur sighed and took out the cigarette, putting it out on the ashtray as best he could with shackled hands before trying to apologize once more. “Y/N I-”
“You hurt me. What you said was mean and hurtful. And-” Y/N faltered as she tried swallowing down the knot in her throat. “I know she is, you know. But you know me. You know I care. And you still doubted me.”
Their eyes met and her breath caught in her chest. His eyes had the tendency to change according to his surroundings. The room they were in was poorly lit, but the pale hues of his jumpsuit still found a way to reflect on his eyes. They were favoring the ocean today, the one that used to be in her backyard during her childhood. The ocean that lulled her to sleep and brought her safety and comfort. His ocean was currently twinkling with unshed tears, and she hated being responsible for that.
Maryanne barreled into the office in that moment, not paying attention to them as she slammed a file on to the table.
“She has been lying to you and using you to get back at her rich daddy. And it’s about time you knew.”
Y/N turned to Maryanne, her eyes wide in shock. This was news to her and certainly not the plan of attack they had come up with last night. The plan was to get Arthur to denounce the Joker as a figure meant to incite riots and violence. Y/N figured that the minute that Arthur separated himself from the madness and violence done in his name by people who didn’t know or care about him, Lee would leave. Since she was just in it for the exposure. For Joker, not Arthur.
Arthur was meant to bring attention to who he was. A hardworking, devoted son who woke up day after day and went to work and sought out help and wanted to get better. He just needed a little bit of help to get back on his feet and the death penalty was not the way to go. That was the fucking plan. Not this!
“Maryanne?”
“Y/N? Did you know?”
At this, Y/N found herself at his side, his shackled hand in hers as she gazed into his eyes. “No, Arthur. I did not. Please believe me this time.”
Arthur nodded and Y/N dropped his hand, sending Maryanne a glare before she picked up the file and read on.
She could feel the warmth of Arthur’s body as he leaned into her to read the file as well.
Arthur had told her that Lee had set fire to her mother’s home. She had painted quite a story for him, and Arthur believed her.
Instead, she was a rich girl who hadn’t struggled a day in her life. What’s more, she had voluntarily committed herself for some crazy reason, and had then convinced Arthur it was his fault she was being sent away. The only truth she had ever told him was her name. “That bitch!”
Arthur stiffened beside her, and Y/N gritted an apology through her teeth. That was still his girlfriend at the end of the day.
“I want to talk to her.”
Y/N and Maryanne looked at each other; they both knew that was a bad idea. She would find a way to twist the facts and he would believe her. She would be free to continue wreaking havoc and inching him closer to the death penalty.
Arthur was trusting and more than anything, he just wanted to be loved. To be seen. That was the key to manipulating him. She could do it too. While she knew he didn’t feel the same way for her, she was aware that she become a friend to him and she could use that to get him to do what she wanted him to do. What she needed him to do for his own good.
Just thinking about it made her feel wretched and she knew she couldn’t do that. Especially after she had just begged him to trust her seconds ago. No. She had to do better. He deserved that much.
“Arthur,” she began, turning to him and taking his hands into hers once more, “can you give me a few moments of your attention? No interruptions. No questions. Just listen to me for a minute. And then I promise to listen to you. Can you do that?”
His head tilted to the side as his eyes bore into hers, trying to figure her out. Everyone always brought up his upbringing, his poverty, his low IQ. As if that made him less. As if life hadn’t seen all of that and still deemed it necessary to teach him lessons in the hardest, most despicable ways possible. Arthur had the uncanny ability to see through people’s intentions. He knew when he was the butt of the joke. But he wanted to be loved and so he put up with the taunts and the abuse because a part of himself thought it was a small price to pay to be loved. What a silly, hauntingly beautiful man. God, when had this become more than a crush?
With a nod and a squeeze to her hands, Arthur broke her from her reverie. And so she talked.
She explained how it would be a good idea to hold off on talking to her. How, it was great that they loved each other (that was a lie but he didn’t need to know that) but the public didn’t care for that. How, as much as we shouldn’t care what the world has to say about us, in this instance, public opinion literally held his life in their hands. Finally, she explained how she would not be able to live with herself if they were unable to win his case, if the same society that failed him again and again won in the end and took his life. Y/N begged him to please let her help him in the best way she knew how. She reassured him how Lee and he could go back to being a happy couple as soon as this was over and nobody would be able to tell him otherwise. What she didn’t say, however, was how she didn’t think Lee would stick around when the news outlets and camera flashes stopped following her every move. He could hate her for the rest of his life so long as he was off death row and living the life he always deserved. She could live with that.
“I know it’s not what you want. You deserve to talk to her and ask her to clear this up. I’m asking for the impossible from you, Arthur. But I need you to help me help you. Yes?”
His face was contorted in agony and despair, the lines around his eyes deepening as he furrowed his brows and a part of herself broke knowing she was once again the cause for his pain.
She didn’t speak and neither did Maryanne; they both knew the ball was now on Arthur’s side of the court and whatever he decided would dictate the course of his case.
“How much longer will this go on for?”
----------------------------------
They left with a tentative agreement from Arthur. He wasn’t willing to cut off contact with Lee for too long and so now they had the difficult task of trying to end this trial quickly, and in their favor.
“I have a feeling he would hate this. But… what if we file a written motion for a change of venue?”
“That would push the trial date back, Y/N.”
“Yes, but you know the riots and general unrest in the city are not doing him any favors. Any jury picked from Gotham is going to convict him no matter how good our case is. And-” Y/N trailed off, collapsing into the sofa in Maryanne’s office.
“-and it creates more distance between Arthur and Lee if we move it?” Maryanne finished knowingly, handing her over her own glass of whiskey.
Y/N grumbled a plea for her to be quiet and took a generous gulp of her drink, scowling at Maryanne’s laughter.
“You know, Dent is not going to agree to that.”
At this, Y/N smirked and straightened in her seat, “oh! Did I forget to tell you how he got Sophie Dumond to testify in court?”
“Did you find something?”
“No. But I can.” She begun, shushing Maryanne before she could even get a word in. “Do not ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”
Maryanne nodded and with that, Y/N left her office and made her way to her own, to draft up the motion and call up one of her old contacts.
Fabricated evidence would never hold its own in court, but the threat of said fabricated evidence tarnishing Harvey Dent’s stellar reputation? Well. That would work. Y/N meant it when she said she would do everything in her power to give Arthur a fair shot at the life he always deserved. And he would never know the lengths she’d go to. Because she didn’t need him in her debt. Y/N just wanted him to have his happily ever after. With whoever and wherever.
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Lee had not taken the forced separation from Arthur well. It had been a week since they had filed the motion and had gotten it approved. Once news outlets caught wind of it no longer taking place in the city and noting Lee’s absence from the hearing, and general cluelessness about everything that was going on, they had lost their interest in her. She was no longer page one worthy news and judging by the number of times she stopped by the office, shouting and shoving at the security guards, she was not handling it well.
Which is why it was no surprise to her when she received a call from Arkham’s high security wing from a contact, letting her know Lee was currently in a visit with Arthur, despite explicit instructions to the warden to not allow her in.
She was in the area and so she quickly flagged down a cab, cursing up a storm and throwing the driver a few extra bills to entice him to break any laws necessary to get her there as soon as possible.
Once there, she knew exactly who had allowed Lee in, if the terrified expression on his face was anything to go by.
“Sullivan, I swear to God I will sue you and every single one of your fucking descendants if you don’t open this goddamn door.” She seethed, satisfaction filling her as he jumped off of his stool, his fingers clumsily clicking and clacking in his rush.
With a final glare, she stalked into the visiting area as soon as the gate was unlocked. She paused momentarily and gave a final warning over her shoulder, locking eyes with the only one who needed to hear it. “And if you take this out on Arthur, I will know. Remind me, what was your lovely granddaughter’s name again? She’s a second grader now, isn’t she?”
She watched him gulp and nod before she gave him a smile dripping with every ounce of distaste she had for him and continuing her trek.
Instantly, she caught sight of Lee’s back. She also saw Arthur. His lips pursed even if his eyes shouted the love and adoration he felt for her. Her heart melted at the knowledge that he was trying to keep his word and not talk to Lee. Even if she was right in front him and there was likely nothing he wanted more.
“What are you standing there for?” She barked at the guard in the corner.  “Get her out of here. She is not an approved visitor, and you know that.”
Arthur’s eyes flew to her face the minute he heard her voice; his eyes wide and pleading, almost as if begging her to believe he had nothing to do with the woman currently in front of him.
Y/N barely had the chance to reassure him before Lee’s hand connected with her face, a sharp smack ringing into the silence of the visitation area.
Her jaw tightened as she brought her hand up to her cheek, her eyes hardening as she wiped away the blood drawn by the ring Lee was wearing.
The silence was cut by Arthur’s shout of Lee’s name and Y/N felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach at the sight of Arthur’s angry expression directed towards Lee. His eyes, stormy and narrowed as a scowl marred his usually smiling lips; Y/N was ridiculously in love.
“Don’t you get it?!” Lee shouted, struggling against the guards who were dragging her out, “She is trying to keep us apart because the little bitch wants you all to herself!”
Y/N watched as she was finally out of the visitation area, smirking in satisfaction as she hissed after stupidly banging at the iron door keeping her out.
A part of her wanted to stay that way, her back to Arthur as she willed the universe to open up and swallow her whole. She likely would’ve stayed there long after visiting hours were over had she not heard the soft call of her name. Like a moth to a flame, like a sailor falling prey to the siren’s song, Y/N turned and closed the gap between them. As much as she could with the glass in between them, at least.
“Is it true?” Y/N didn’t know if he was asking about whether she was trying to keep them apart on purpose or even worse, about the crush, but answering neither would be of no help.
“I told you from the beginning, everything I do is for your own good. Not because you can’t make decisions on your own, but because I know how things work in these cases and I want to use that knowledge to help you. The power is in your hands, Arthur. You can choose to let me go whenever you like.”
And he could. He could choose to hire someone else. Or worse even, to represent himself. But she didn’t mean it that way and she prayed he hadn’t caught her slip up. Even if it would be good if he did.
Maybe then he could release her from the hold he had on her, a hold he likely didn’t even know about. Maybe then he could stop doing things that were confusing her. Like smiling at her like she was the only person in the world. Or murmuring her name, soft and intimate, like it was made from fragile glass. Maybe then she could get her head out of her ass and behave like the professional she was before she met him. Before she fell for him.
Oh, but sweet, shy, lovely Arthur didn’t catch it. For someone who was as in love with the idea of love as he was, he was quite blind to people who actually cared for him and loved him for him. She hated and loved that about him.
He nodded, his face softening with a smile that lit up her whole world and she cursed him and loved him a little more for it.
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These had been the most agonizing weeks of her life, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine how Arthur had been feeling. Alas, the day was finally here. Today would decide Arthur’s fate.
These last few weeks had been tedious, and Y/N had learned just how high her threshold for hate could go. More than once, she was ready to bash Dent’s head with a chair, that’s how despicable she found him. She didn’t understand how he had built a reputation of a respectable, protector of justice, when he was quite frankly a piece of shit.
Y/N had convinced Maryanne not only to change the venue, but also to move it to a more affluent area. Y/N knew there was nothing rich people loved more than pretending they cared about the little people and with the evidence they had to support Arthur’s not guilty by insanity plea, she knew the rich people who would encompass the jury would be on their side. They would be able to boast about their good deed and feel better about being filthy rich while the rest of the city died.
They wouldn’t be making the wrong call. They had more than sufficient evidence to support their claim, and anybody with half a braincell would agree that Arthur needed help in the form of rehabilitation, not incarceration.
Why then, was it that this pillar of justice was so adamant to lock Arthur up and throw away the key? Almost like he was also just after what convicting Arthur would do for his career. God, Y/N could kill him.
Arthur was a bundle of nerves beside her. She was a tad concerned that he would dislocate a knee with how he was bouncing it. She couldn’t look at him, afraid that he would see how nervous she was as well and that that would set him off, so she simply placed her hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.
She heard him inhale to say something, but the jury walked in, the bailiff and judge right after. Her insides origami’d themselves into a gnawing creature as she helped Arthur to his feet and stood as close to him as professionally acceptable.
As the foreman affixed his reading glasses atop his nose and cleared his throat to begin reading the verdict, Y/N sent one last prayer above. This had to go in Arthur’s favor, or she didn’t know how she would live with herself.
“We, the Jury, having carefully considered all the evidence presented in this case, find the defendant, Arthur Fleck, not guilty by reason of insanity.”
Everything else was drowned out in the rush of blood inundating her head and she found herself with an armful of Arthur, his face cradled in the crook of her neck as he cried. She was counting on Maryanne to listen to the rest of the verdict as she clung to Arthur and whispered reassurances in his ear.  
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“So what now?” Arthur asked, looking so fragile and small as he sat in the corner of the interview room they had been sent to as they made preparations for his transfer. The minute he had been uncuffed and had been able to decide himself where to go, he had picked that corner to retreat to.
Y/N’s heart broke at the realization that this had been the first time in years he had been able to make a decision as simple as this and she had found herself sitting next to him, his hand in hers as she traced soothing patterns on the back of it.
“Maryanne is drafting a document asking the court to take into account the time you have already served. If we are lucky, you’ll only be required the three-month rule in a state institution, and then your life begins. Well, kind of. You’ll be required therapy for the rest of your life, but that is a good thing. I will ensure that whoever sees you now actually cares and helps. I promise,” she finished with a squeeze to his hand, a smile on her face as he breathed out a soft laugh.
“Will you visit?” he murmured after some time, not quite turning to look at her but she could feel his eyes gazing at her from under his eyelashes, as if afraid of her answer.
“As many times as you want me to,” Y/N reassured, slightly distraught at how vehemently she meant that. Fuck, she was stupid in love with a man who saw her as nothing more than a friend.
“Every day,” he beamed. His eyes finally meeting hers and she marveled at the weight that had clearly lifted from his shoulders. His bejeweled emerald eyes shined brightly in the dimly lit room and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe. She didn’t think breathing was as important as not missing a second of the awe-inspiring sight in front of her. The way his chestnut locks framed his face, or the way his thick lashes dusted the thin, purplish skin of his eyelids. He was beautiful and how she wished to be the one to gaze upon him every day. Sadly…
“Have you talked to Lee?”
Her smile tightened and she cleared her throat, hoping to swallow down the distaste. “I called her myself after the verdict but got her answering machine. As soon as she calls back, I will let you know.”
“I think she’s mad. I hope she doesn’t hate me,” he mused sadly, his shoulders slumping forward.
“You did what you had to do for your wellbeing. She loves you, I’m sure she’ll understand,” Y/N consoled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Besides, you can blame me if you want. That way she can’t be mad at you.”
His eyes searched her face until they settled on the new scar on her face, courtesy of Lee. From the corner of her eyes, she saw his free hand nearing her face, but right before he could make contact, she jumped up. Y/N didn’t know if she could come back from knowing what his hands felt like on her face.
“There is another thing we must discuss, Arthur,” she began, hoping she was successfully playing off how flustered being so close to him made her. “Medication. I know you don’t like the way you feel but taking it will likely be a requirement.”
He slumped over once more, an adorable pout taking over his lips and Y/N cursed the heavens for the feelings lighting up sparks within her.
They discussed the topic a bit more, and Y/N died a little when he admitted he was not aware he was allowed to ask to be switched to other medications until they found a good fit for him. He assumed the lifeless, zombie-state was the norm and Y/N’s heart broke a little more for him. He deserved the world and she wanted to be the one to give it him.
Maryanne came in then, a grin on her face as she sat on a chair, beckoning for the other two to do the same.
Y/N obliged and offered Arthur her hand to help him up, then guided him to a chair and took one next to him. He looked at her then, questioning, but all she could do was shrug as she did not know what Maryanne’s grin was about.
Their questioning looks soon turned to astonishment as Maryanne explained how the judge, who happened to regularly play golf with her husband, had agreed that the time Arthur had served should be taken into account. What’s more, he believed one of the ways society could atone for its sins against Arthur was to waive the three month rule and set Arthur free, to the care of a guardian who would assume responsibility for him. He would still be required to attend counseling for the rest of his life, and follow any guidelines his medical team recommended, but that was of course next to nothing compared to being institutionalized.
Y/N’s mouth hung open; she could almost feel her jaw unhinge as she tried to comprehend the feat Maryanne had just accomplished.
“I- I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Her heart, bruised and battered, broke a little more at the sound of his broken whisper and she turned to him, words of comfort on her lips before Maryanne cut her off.
“Sure you do. Y/N is the court-appointed guardian the judge, Dent and I agreed on.” Maryanne said this nonchalantly, but Y/N could hear the smugness on her voice. “By the way Y/N, verify your address with accounting. Due to your new circumstances, we’ll have to ship a PC to your home. I’m thinking you can do three days at home and two in the office? Or as necessary. We’ll figure that out later. For now, we have accommodations to make.”
She then sashayed out of the room, and had it not been for Arthur’s hand on her shoulder, Y/N would’ve sat there frozen for God know how long.
“Is- is that okay? You can say no, Y/N. I don’t want to trouble you.” He said this with a smile, and she knew that even if she refused to house him and this meant he would lose his freedom and go back to being incarcerated, he would truly not hold that against her. God, he was so good. How could anyone ever think about hurting him? When he deserved nothing short of the world?
“And why would I do that, roomie?”
The grin he gave her was like the sun peaking from the horizon on a freezing December morning. Nothing could’ve ever topped it, except for the tight hug he gave her.
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It had been a couple of months since Arthur had moved in. The first few days were… a learning experience. She tried to accustom herself to having another person living under her roof, a person she had feelings for but could not act on. And Arthur was trying to remember how to be free again. As free as he could be considering the restrictions he had on him.
Y/N’s heart broke every time he forgot where he was and would wait around for the door to be unlocked and opened for him. As he waited for permission he no longer needed to accomplish mundane tasks, Y/N would approach him carefully and softly, as if afraid to shock him, and she’d remind him that he could move as he pleased. She’d remind him that he was home now (God, how she hoped he felt like he was home) and was in charge of his actions.
Without fail, wonder filled his eyes, and he looked around the room, as if taking it in and reminding himself where he was before settling on her face. And then, then he’d steal her breath as he smiled at her, soft and sweet. Oh, how she loved him.
Lee had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. As much as she didn’t want to, for Arthur, she had called in favors to try and find her.  To no avail.
Last she heard, her parents had shipped her overseas to distance her from everything she had said and done in front of the cameras, but that was the last they had been able to find about her.
Arthur was of course heartbroken, but he claimed he was at least happy knowing she was safe. It didn’t matter that she no longer loved him and didn’t want to see him.
For her part, Y/N swore that if she ever saw her, she’d rip her face off and keep it as a trophy.
Today was one of the rare days off they had. Arthur had no session today and she had finished her work for the week. After breakfast, she had asked him what he wanted to do for the day and, without missing a beat, he had suggested a walk around the city.
The area Y/N lived in was on the other side from where Arthur grew up. It was decidedly nicer, cleaner and nobody seemed to know or care who Arthur was. Arthur loved going on walks whenever they both had the time, and without fail, he would steal yet another piece of her heart as he marveled at the most mundane things they encountered on their walks.
She recalled the giggle that escaped his lips the first time they had come across a flock of ducks in the park and Y/N could do nothing more but slip into a bodega to purchase frozen peas so Arthur could feed the ducks. Nothing could put a price on the delight lighting up his face.
And so, the plan was the same today. As they walked out of the familiar bodega, hand in hand and frozen peas secured, Y/N marveled at how good of a life she had.
As they made their way to the park, they stopped every few houses and marveled at the Halloween decorations adorning the streets. It was mid-October, her favorite time of the year, and she loved the way the city looked.
As they approached an empty park bench, she turned to Arthur, wanting to point out the ducks to him only to find him already looking at her.
That had been a recent development and she wished she could ask him to stop. She, of course, couldn’t do that. Not without explaining that her heart threatened to leap out of her chest and into his hands whenever he looked at her like that. Not without confessing her feelings to him, which would be incredibly unfair.
He didn’t feel that way and she had no right to take away the only safe place he had ever had. Arthur deserved a good life, he deserved to experience everything that had been denied from him his whole life and she couldn’t rob him of that by telling him about her silly little feelings.
What was she supposed to do when he told her he didn’t feel the same? Even worse was the thought of him feeling pressured to reciprocate out of fear his new world would be yanked from his feet. No. She would never tell him. But God, how she prayed he would stop looking at her like that. How she wished to dig into her chest and rip out her heart, to lock it in a box and shove it somewhere it could never come back from. How she wished not to feel. Just for a bit.
They sat at the park for what was certainly hours. He talked about his sessions and how they had finally settled on a medication that did not make him feel dead. It made him a bit sleepy, he said. But he could think, feel, and eat.
That she could attest to. He often asked for seconds during meals and just last week, when she was coming out of her room for a mid-day break from work, she had encountered a shirtless Arthur coming out of the restroom after a shower. Recovering from the shock, she turned back to her room with a squeak but not before allowing her eyes to roam his shirtless frame. She had noticed how his ribs were no longer protruding, and there was a softness cushioning his belly that was not there before when she had helped him dress for his trial, which seemed like eons ago now.
In turn, she talked about work without going into many details. Confidentiality and all. And she asked about the at-home nurse that would come in whenever Y/N had to go into the office. Arthur had no complaints and he confessed she almost felt like a mother, a proper one. Y/N grabbed his gloved hand and squeezed, a surprised squeak leaving her lips when he pressed his forehead against hers. If her breath hadn’t abandoned her, and her limbs obeyed her, she likely would’ve pushed him away. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the tremors to wash down her back and could do nothing but nod dumbly when he suggested they head back.
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 The walk back had been quiet. She thought she had done well at not making it awkward despite the silence from her part.
A talk would likely need to happen. If she wanted to hold on to the last bits of her sanity, boundaries would have to be set. Maybe she’d take up Sam’s weekly invitations to go out for drinks after work. Maybe that was what she needed to get over Arthur. Or to at least not go into cardiac arrest over physical contact.
He unlocked the door for them, likely realizing her dazed state and gently guided her inside and on to the couch.
Arthur left her eyesight for a bit, and she figured he had gone into his room. Even as she heard clattering in the kitchen, she didn’t turn to look, too lost in her thoughts.
It wasn’t until he reappeared in front of her, a steaming mug of hot cocoa in hand, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows like he knew she liked, that she broke through her dazed state.
“I thought you were cold, so I made this for you,” he began as he set it on the coffee table in front of her. He then reached around and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch and fluffed it before wrapping it around her. “I shouldn’t have made you stay outside this late. I forgot how cold it gets.”
Like a petulant child, she pulled the blanket over her head with a groan, wanting to lovingly punch his stupid face for making her feel feelings. This was too much for her.
Arthur laughed out a ‘what’s wrong?’ as he attempted to free her from her self-made blanket prison, soft giggles leaving him the more she fought against him.
Knowing she wasn’t going to win this battle, she broke free, furrowing her brows as she looked at the giggling man beside her.
Arthur snorted and reached over to smooth down her hair, his eyes twinkling with amusement, his cheeks flushed and lips curled in a smile.
“Arthur,” she began, grabbing his hands and placing them on his lap before folding hers in front of her chest, as if that was going to protect her heart.
“You know I care for you. And I will always be here for you. But-”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off. He remained silent for a few seconds before giving himself a reassuring nod. His eyes met Y/N’s briefly before he turned to focus on the long-forgotten mug. “Dr. Sloane recommended I tell you how I feel but- I’m not good with words, Y/N. I hoped my actions could, I don’t know,” he trailed off with a half-hearted shrug.
Y/N, on the other hand, was fighting through the static ringing in her ears as she tried making sense of Arthur’s words.
“How you feel?”
“I’m sorry Y/N. You’re probably just being nice. I knew you didn’t feel the same. But Dr. Sloane said I should try and-”
“Arthur!” she called to him firmly, her hands finding his as she tried to keep him from going down the spiral he currently was. “You have feelings for me?”
Arthur nodded shyly, his eyes on their intertwined hands as he rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together, a nervous habit he had picked up now that he was trying to quit smoking.
“You like me? But, Lee?”
“I don’t know if she was real. If what I thought she felt or what I felt for her was real. But you,” at this he smiled, so blindingly bright that for a moment she wondered how he had captured the moonlight in his smile.
“And you haven’t noticed I’ve liked you since day one?” she interrupted him, fighting a smile as his hands stiffened in hers.
Arthur’s head snapped up as his eyes searched hers, trying to decipher whether she was lying or not. She let him look, making sure to let her face and eyes shout about the love for him she had been trying to bottle up for what felt like an eternity.
“How- Y/N, how long?” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading.
“Since I set foot in that room, shitty joke in my notebook. Since you laughed, so soft and shy and then told me one of yours.”
He made a choking sound and before she could worry about hearing him choke on that laughter that rarely made an appearance now but he still feared, he had closed the distance between them by pulling her into him.
She squeaked and surprised, allowed him to wrap his arms around her. He felt so warm. So safe. So right.
“We’re going to have to talk about this Arthur!” she laughed, succumbing to the kisses being peppered on her face.
“I’m serious, Arthur. We’re going to talk.” Y/N valiantly tried once more, sighing at yet another peck to her nose. Her forehead. And the corner of her lips. God, this man was a fuckin’ tease.
He groaned before cupping her cheeks with his palms, warm and calloused. “We will, later. But can I please kiss you now?”
It was Y/N’s turn to silence him, her lips finding his and her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t know how the fireworks going off in her stomach had travelled to just behind her eyelids, but as Arthur pressed his lips to hers, urgently yet sweetly, she found she didn’t really care.
In that moment, nothing mattered. Not the road they had travelled to get here. Not where the road would take them tomorrow. All that mattered to her now was how his lips, chapped and warm moved against hers. How his hands felt, one on her back, branding her with his fingertips through her clothes. The other on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her skin, staking claim to what had long belonged to him.
Nothing mattered but him. Always him. Forever him.
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kacievvbbbb · 8 days ago
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Just one of the many great tragedies of Mishanks' relationship is that sometimes Shanks wants to feel wanted just as he is, that even beyond the strength he is worth the effort he is worth being loved and unfortunately that just isn't something Mihawk can over him it's just not something he can do, not as he is now at least. That's a level of emotional maturity that he just does not possess to be able to disentangle the strength from the man that makes no sense to him. Strength is all there is. Shanks is a person, has a life outside of his strength, his power is just another aspect of who he is but for Mihawk strength is his whole person, if he is not strong then he is nothing. If shanks is not strong well then....he's nothing to him.
And God that's a lonely way to live.
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deer-a-day · 4 months ago
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bat like thing
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serpentface · 4 months ago
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HAUNTING PHOTO TAKEN SECONDS BEFORE DISASTER
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field-guide-to-mud · 10 months ago
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i'd fit all my joys and pleasures in one perfect day
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ploverpaw · 2 months ago
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Okay I'll speak a thought
It's hard for me to take 'does Curlfeather deserve to go to The Dark Forest' seriously because I believe the dark forest is an inherently flawed system no cat really deserves to go to
It's hammered in that it's an entirely horrible place to exist in, and there's no incentive or opportunities for cats to change their ways, learn better, or get help if a lack of it contributed to their actions already. And even when they do manage to do so, there's still no hope for them. They're still stuck in Cat Hell, surrounded !!for eternity!! by the unmonitored violence of the other df cats.
The only cat who got close as far as I know was Juniperclaw, who has to serve Starclan in a tunnel forever without ever being allowed to join them.
Seemingly, the only way for these cats to really change their situation from there is by breaking through on their own, usually through the use of violence, so I'm Not surprised the great battle [OOTS] came about.
Not to mention if we go off what we learned of Snowtuft in TBC, they don't even remember what they did to be in the dark forest after enough time has passed, so at that point it seems exceedingly cruel.
Of course these cats, including Curlfeather, deserve to face consequences for their actions, but the dark forest seems like a pointless way of just causing more pain for the sake of it. And it's the same punishment regardless of the crime, while we know many cats who arguably do things of the same severity are allowed into Starclan just fine
I could say so much more I have so many thoughts but I don't want this to get too long
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look at this
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bamsara · 2 years ago
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I'm going through my entire storage:
I found about 30ish pages of FNAF PACK stickers (biblically accurate sun n moon heads, sl jacket, both drop candies, pickle monty, superstar freddy) in a binder and I've discontinued most of them and they're no longer compatible with my machine since they were printed with old guidelines before the Cricut update
However I feel like trash if I just throw them away cause,,wasteful so I'm gonna cut them out by hand and sell them for 50% off in kofi store later today (there was also some IZ pages but I haven't counted them yet)
I'll also be putting together miscuts/misprint baggies again, I havent counted how many there will be but there is a LOT of miscut/misprint of the Reaper Moon from October. I will also be throwing Miscut and Misprints prints into the sticker bags with the corresponding fandoms this time, I have a lot of 4x6s...so, free miscut/misprint print with your miscut stickers? lmao
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irradiatedsnakes · 3 months ago
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the problem is i get genuinely, unpleasantly freaked out by Scary Face Images a la smile.jpeg or cartoon cat or whatever which makes enjoying creepypastas and internet horror videos and stuff a real fucking minefield
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nana2009 · 7 months ago
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omg imagine, Yandere dave and mpreg karkat dream com true
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well anony seems like you're one of the 5 people in luck! i'm gonna tell you something that probably a lot of people aint gonna like, so i'm spoiling a future ask ahead.
THAT IS ONE OF THE PATHS I PLANNED TO FOLLOW! AHA! >:D
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danny would be their only child :3 yandave deserves to b a dilf too....he a lil crazy but he would b a good dad in the end....?
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zemi-noelle-art · 2 months ago
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The hardest part of my Halloween costume is done! Can you guess who I'm gonna be? :)
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wooahaes · 1 year ago
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under the sun [jeonghan]
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pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader
prompt: darl+ing inspired fic.
word count: 11.5k~
warnings: skinship. food + alcohol mentions. jeonghan denying his feelings a bit. one kiss with dubious consent (reader is drunk and kisses jeonghan) that gets addressed and apologized for.
daisy’s notes: me fighting for my life trying to finish this fic before the end of july
< day 3 || masterlist ||
summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world… and between you and one of them.      
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Jeonghan worried about you more than he would ever admit out loud. Despite the fact that he knew you were cared for (by everyone, but especially by Chan, who seemed to follow after your every step like a puppy--overjoyed, no doubt, that he was no longer the “new kid” in the group), you were still on the quieter side. It was too early for him to know for sure if you were just a quiet person, like Minghao, or if you were uncomfortable. While Seungcheol led the group well, a watchful eye on everything and any potential problems, Jeonghan was always the one who served as the shoulder to cry on or a listening ear when Seungcheol was too intimidating to approach. Sure, he could tease from time to time--but it was always toward people he knew could handle it (no bad days there) and out of love.
So Jeonghan snuck away after he helped the others wash laundry one morning and found you out in the gardens. There were enough people that your absence wouldn’t be missed if he just happened to steal you away for a little break.
“You look tired,” he said from the foot of the tree you were picking fruit from. “Do you wanna take a break?”
“Chan told me not to,” you said with a concerned frown. “If you need to rest, it’s okay. But Chan said that it just creates more work for the others when--”
“It'll be okay,” he said. “It’s better to rest than to overwork yourself.”
Truthfully, Jeonghan knew you were overworking yourself. Always eager to pick up a task whenever someone needed a favor done, or making sure to put your all into doing chores correctly so that it would be less stress on anyone else. You shouldered the work the same way Seungcheol did without much of a fuss. Maybe that was why Jeonghan worried about you: you seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Seungcheol in certain ways. He wondered if you felt the need to “earn your keep” even though they would have let you stay if you physically couldn’t.
“How many were you supposed to pick?” He nodded up at the ripe peaches just within your reach.
“Enough for all of us.”
“And how many do you have?”
You looked away sheepishly. “Like... maybe twenty.”
“You don’t need to do anymore,” he said. “You did your part. The others can handle the rest. Come take a nap with me.”
“But--”
Jeonghan extended a hand up, “If you get in trouble, I’ll take the blame. You need to rest before you burn yourself out.”
With a sigh, you relented: you’d leave your share inside the church at the very least before going off with him. So he smiled to himself as he watched you search for a safe enough place out of the way to leave your picked fruit, and extended his hand back out to you. When you took it, he merely gave you a reassuring squeeze before heading out toward the river. He’d mapped out nice napping places forever ago, and he was sure every single person in the group (except you, but you’d learn in time) knew where all of them were. On other days, he’d bring a blanket with him. Maybe next time he stole you away, he would--or maybe the two of you could hide out in the attic, cozy on that bed underneath the sun window. It was usually a pretty good spot to nap, especially since everyone tried to clean that room first when they were on cleaning duty. Less people to disturb Jeonghan’s rest.
Yet he didn’t want to nap anymore when he was lying out in the grass. You had sat down next to him, still sitting up and watching the river pass by. If you looked close enough, you could see the occasional fish. The river always felt so clear most of the time, and yet occasionally you’d see one darting through the water--almost like the universe was taunting you.
“Are you adjusting well?” Jeonghan asked, finally sitting up after a few minutes of just watching you silently sit there. “You can tell me if you’re having a tough time. A lot of people do, to begin with.”
You looked up, uncertainty etched into every feature. “I’m fine,” you said, and Jeonghan could tell it was a lie. “I mean... I’m adjusting. It’s just taking some getting used to, that’s all.”
He frowned. Despite the way you seemed to get along with the youngest three in the group, Jeonghan noticed that you still seemed a little quiet around the others. Soonyoung you’d cuddle with during some nights (usually because he wanted you close by--he liked cuddling and you seemed happy to let him snuggle in), but the others... Jeonghan had kept an eye on and an ear open for any concerns. Joshua had outright told him that he was worried you might change your mind about staying--something he and Seungcheol had talked about one night.
Which Jeonghan understood. Seungcheol had told him you wondered if there were other people out there. Jeonghan had questioned it, too, before Seungcheol told him that he hadn’t seen anyone else. He wanted to leave, too. That was before they found Joshua. Truth be told, Jeonghan still wanted to go--only when it was getting too late for him to think straight. He’d made peace with that urge long ago, yet it still scratched at the back of his mind, begging to be let back in.
Would you go with him if he asked? Jeonghan pushed the thought away. No point in thinking about things like that when he had a group to help care for, you included.
“Is there anything I can do?” He asked quietly. “I know I can’t relate to being uncomfortable, but I’m happy to help if I can.”
He watched you breathe in slowly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He could practically see the way you were weighing your options: open up to Jeonghan, or shoulder the problems longer on your own. Is that why Seungcheol seemed so attached to you sometimes? Because you were a little like him? Even though the reasons differed, both of you seemed to carry the weight of your problems alone despite there being others there ready to help lighten the load.
“I dunno,” you finally said after a slow exhale. “It’s not that I don’t like being here with you all, it’s just...”
“Just?” Jeonghan prompted. You can tell me.
Another deep breath. “I just feel like I’m intruding on something. Chan and Hansol and Seungkwan always try to stick by me--Chan more than the others--but... I dunno. Sometimes it feels like I’m not fully 'one of you’ now. Especially since I couldn’t remember my name on my own.”
Jeonghan frowned. Jihoon had pointed out the pale gray lettering in the collar of your shirt that day--it felt right to say it to you. Maybe it was a mistake, but Jeonghan didn’t want you to go by a name that wasn’t fully yours longer than you had to. Everyone else had hated it--some more than others--and there had been relief in getting that key part of themself back. Was it wrong to tell it to you instead of letting you remember? Would you even remember without his prompting?
“It’s dumb,” you traced a finger through the small patch of dirt, “but... I think all of you are close enough already. Even Chan seems to be a part of the group more than I am, you know? Chan can go off with you or Hansol or whoever and fit right in. I’m just... here.”
“You don’t think we like you?”
“It’s not that--” You looked up. “I just don’t feel like I fit in. Sometimes you guys tell stories that I like listening to, but I can’t help but feel left out of a joke. I don’t want that to stop you guys from reminiscing, I just... I wish I knew how to make memories with you guys without feeling like I’m forcing myself where I don’t belong.”
Jeonghan had already begun formulating plans in his head. He wasn’t going to force the group together, but... Sometimes they’d get together for things. Maybe he could push the others to put something together, an open invitation for everyone to be a part of it. Just to be together as a group again. Hansol had that old projector that he liked to set up sometimes to watch old films with them--maybe Jeonghan could bring that up over dinner one day just to put the idea out there.
If you weren’t feeling like part of the group, then Jeonghan was sure he would fix that. If Seungcheol was right and the fourteen of you were all that’s left, you needed to stay together. Seungcheol had enough on his plate. Jeonghan could handle this.
He laid a hand over your own. “You do belong here if that’s where you want to be.” He looked you in the eyes, “Do you want to be here?”
You nodded. “I think so.”
“Then it’s okay,” he said. “You’re still new. Just give it a little more time.”
You smiled at him after a moment, more genuine than the nervous ones you’d given him before. “Thank you, Jeonghan. I feel a little better.”
“If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
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Jeonghan found Minghao working in a corner, painting a little tree onto the landscape. He sat down beside him, watching him work slowly but happily. Despite the fact that Minghao got along great with everyone else, the guy liked to have his moments alone--and Jeonghan had, admittedly, given him that. Minghao had been painting alone for the past hour, and Jeonghan would give him space again if that’s what he wanted.
“Minghao,” he said, voice soft enough to keep the conversation between them. Mingyu and Seokmin were working on dinner that day. “Do you remember when you used to guide us through meditation?”
He nodded, not looking up. “It’s been a few weeks.”
“Would you like to do it again?” Jeonghan watched as Minghao added a little red apple into the tree. “I think it really helped us before.”
“Did it?” He looked up just for a moment. “Some of you fell asleep.”
Soonyoung had, and so did Seungcheol. Admittedly the two that Jeonghan fully expected to last time--it was a few days before Chan’s one-month celebration and Seungcheol had been a bit tense about the whole thing, which meant Soonyoung was going to get tense because he wanted it to be good as well. Jeonghan knew the tension would come again in a week when your celebration was closer.
“Because it helped,” Jeonghan insisted. “If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. It looked like you enjoyed it last time.”
Minghao nodded along, brows furrowed slightly as he thought it over. “I’ll see if anyone’s interested.”
“Ask Mouse,” Jeonghan said. “They might be interested in meditation.”
Minghao nodded. “I will,” he said. “Did they say something?”
Jeonghan shook his head. “Just trying to make sure they’re included.”
A soft chuckle. An eye roll. Jeonghan almost definitely knew what he was thinking: team mom Jeonghan was back. He had a track record of doting on the other members and making sure they were being cared for.
“I’ll talk to them,” Minghao said after a moment. “I don’t know if they’ll be interested.”
Sure enough, you were. Jeonghan had agreed to be there when Minghao had gathered them in the church a few days later. While not everyone was partaking (a few of them were working on getting things prepared for dinner later, opting to prioritize prep-work over meditation), Jeonghan was happy with the turnout. The chairs had been stacked and put away, Jeonghan sitting in the back as he watched Minghao slowly weave in-between the different people lying on the floor--you included. Minghao stopped near you at one point, not pausing in his speech at all as he crouched down and gently moved you into a more comfortable position.
The air grew quieter for a moment. “Better?” Minghao whispered to you.
You merely nodded, and then Minghao continued on, calmly speaking in that same even tone of voice. He stepped over where he’d just positioned your arm a little further out without any sign of annoyance at his own decision, continuing to slowly walk between the different people. He paused as he looked at Jeonghan, giving a tiny nod to the others. It’s not too late to join them.
Jeonghan merely raised a hand to signal that he was fine. He didn’t need any meditation. You needed the group activity. Maybe Jeonghan could talk him into doing another yoga day sometime--that had been fun to watch last time. This worked, too, though. When Minghao’s back was turned, he saw the way you opened your eyes just for a moment--meeting gazes with Mingyu--and then smiled at him. It was something small, but it was a little connection that was being strengthened through shared experience. That was what Jeonghan had wanted.
Jeonghan noticed the way Seungkwan was about to head outside until he saw the scene before him. Minghao had given him a pointed look--everyone knew that he was going to do meditation today, and Seungkwan was one of the ones who hadn’t felt up to it. Jeonghan quickly rose to his feet, making his way to the edge of the room and gesturing for him to come over--avoiding anyone sprawled out a little too close to the walls. With an open hand, Jeonghan kept his arm outstretched for Seungkwan to make his way over, gently guiding him out of the church. He quietly shut the door behind him, standing out in the warm summer air with him for a moment.
Seungkwan had already been mid-apology when Jeonghan asked if he wanted to go for a walk with him. Just down to the river, where they could walk together for a bit. By the time they’d get back, Minghao’s meditation session would be over. So Seungkwan nodded, agreed, and walked a step behind him as the two went together for a while.
“Have you come up with anything new with Seokmin and Soonyoung?” Jeonghan asked at one point, hands tucked into his pants pockets. Sometimes the three came up with their own little songs and dances that they’d show off after bringing everyone together. It was nice and always a fun time.
Seungkwan looked up, humming in acknowledgement before thinking the question over. “There’s something we’ve been doing,” he admit.
“Jihoon’s still working on things,” he said. “I think Hansol has, too. Maybe we should have another music night.”
Seungkwan lit up at the suggestion. “Why now?”
“Why not?” Jeonghan continued along, hands still lazily hanging from his pockets with each slow step. “They’re fun. Jihoon’s comfortable showing Mouse his music, even though it’s not done.”
None of it ever is. Not the songs Hansol worked on in his spare time, not the songs the trio worked on: nothing was ever finished. Jeonghan had heard Jun mutter a lyric that he later heard from Minghao. When he asked, neither of them knew the song--they both said the same excuse that it was probably something they knew in their old life. They made things work, though: Soonyoung had been the one who proposed Jihoon share his songs with the others an eternity ago.
(”Maybe we might know part of it, if it’s a song someone else wrote...” )
It’d been a while, though, since the last one. Sure, they shared music with one another during Chan’s celebration, but before then... Jeonghan was sure that the last night they had dedicated to it was a week before Chan showed up.
Seungkwan hummed to himself softly as he thought, brows set in tight concentration as he weighed the options (to do or to not: the only options he had) against one another. When Jeonghan said he’d talk to Seungcheol about getting it set up, Seungkwan slowly nodded, as that must have helped tip his decision over.
“Okay,” he said. “But you have to help set up.”
Jeonghan laughed warmly, throwing an arm around Seungkwan’s shoulders. “I will,” he promised. “You just get the others together. We’ll figure out plans once I distract them.”
Seungkwan accepted that and, once the two returned to the now-finished meditation session, already went off to get Seokmin and Joshua to go find Jihoon. Jeonghan saw the way you lit up as you talked to Minghao about something, and he casually slipped into the conversation to see if maybe he could push you toward Minghao. If nothing came of it, then fine, but at least it meant that maybe the two of you would grow closer as people in general. He’d been talking about meditation and ways to find peace.
“Like with your paintings,” Jeonghan had casually said, an arm curling around you.
Minghao nodded. “Right. Painting helps, too.”
“Why don’t you show them your work?” Jeonghan gently nudged you forward. “Maybe they’ll take up painting, too...”
Minghao raised his brows, and Jeonghan was sure that if you hadn’t been watching him, he would have mouthed a ‘What are you doing?’ to him.
But you’d grown a little more excited, “Oh! I’d love to hear about them, actually,” you then grew a little more sheepish, most likely over remembering the fact that you and Minghao weren’t exactly the closest so far. “If... that’s okay, I mean.”
Jeonghan could see the way Minghao lit up, though, and he happily obliged. Which meant that you had that cute twinkle in your eyes again, and Jeonghan found himself smiling as the two of you went off--Minghao taking your hand as he guided you down into the passage leading back to the main room, just to secure you. He’d heard your happy giggle as you went, and he let out a quiet sigh.
As long as you were happy... then Jeonghan would be, too.
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Music nights were common enough occurrences, for the most part. They already knew how to set up the church to make things look nice: the stage set with a microphone and the acoustic guitars, chairs lined up in rows (some of them with designated seats, as if it’s their own little VIP preserved seating, with those little plush animals to designate each person). Seokmin roped Mingyu and Jun into helping with making snacks for this, and Jeonghan can hear Joshua and Jihoon as they check over everything to make sure tonight will be ready. Jeonghan, on the other hand, was focused on the seating arrangements. Sure, they could sit anywhere... But he’d quietly picked up the tiger-striped hamster that’d been sitting in a chair next to a mouse, and set the otter from the end of the row next to it instead. He hadn’t noticed anything sparking between you and Minghao, but you and Chan...
Well. He left his rabbit plush on your other side. Just to ensure that you’d be able to enjoy yourself tonight, and to play wingman for Chan. The guy probably needed a little help considering how flustered he’d get with you.
People began to filter in once Seungkwan gave word that everything was prepared. There was a loose enough schedule for tonight, starting with Seungkwan performing something he’d been working on with Seokmin and Soonyoung, followed by either Jihoon or Hansol performing whatever they’d been writing lately. From there, they’d play it by ear: plenty of the others had things to share. Dances they’d choreographed, songs they’d grown better at playing... And Jeonghan would stand by, watching as people took their seats. He noticed the way Chan lit up upon realizing he’d be next to you, and he’d already warmly greeted you with that love-struck look on his face that everyone else seemed to notice except you.
Jeonghan settled in on the other side of you, and didn’t fail to notice the tiny way you shifted a little closer to him. He chalked it up to the fact you seemed to be drifting toward him a lot more lately, probably because he’d been trying to include you in things more. It was a guaranteed space where you felt loved and appreciated. That was all he’d let it be, at least.
Wonwoo had been asked to essentially emcee the beginning of the night, and he’d been the one to introduce Soon-Seok-Seung (which... in Jeonghan’s opinion, still felt off, but maybe a smidge better than the previous ‘Soon-Seok-Kwan’) in a song they’d been working on. Which made Jeonghan realize something: you, despite hearing Jihoon and Joshua sing, had no idea how talented all of them were. Music was something that unified all of them, and Jeonghan wasn’t afraid to say that all of them were pretty talented at it.
“Are you going to do something?” He’d whispered to you as Chan went to prepare for his own performance.
You shook your head. “I don’t think I’m as good as you guys.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, and when you nodded, he decided he wouldn’t push. “That’s fine,” he said. “You can stay here and enjoy the others’ performances with me, then.” 
Of course, this wouldn’t ring true for too long. Once the night devolved into singing other songs they’d found on records and whatnot, Joshua had pulled him into a duet. Jeonghan had tried to dodge it--he’d already told you he’d stay with you, after all--but Joshua had taunted him a bit and it’d been enough to get him up to sing. He’d do one song and then go back to you (although now that he saw the way Chan was holding your hand, the two of you happily snuggled together... maybe he’d stay up a little longer).
He kicked himself a little for noticing the way you lit up when you heard him sing, and for the way it made his heart flutter a little. He already liked you from the first day you came, but this only endeared you to him further. But if anyone asked if he felt anything over the fact that Chan was so lovingly holding onto you, he’d deny it. Not while Chan clearly felt something for you. Not while other people did, too.
Instead, he settled for pulling you into the next group song that they’d begun singing at the top of their lungs. Although your voice was far quieter than the others, he could hear you underneath the cacophony of chaos around him. Every lowly sung syllable hit his ears, alongside the warm sound of your laughter at the others dancing goofily, throwing themselves fully into enjoying this song. Soonyoung had turned, seeing you, and Jeonghan recognized the twinkle in his eyes.
So with a light shove, he pushed you toward Soonyoung, who’d extended a hand to you. You’d shot him a look over your shoulder, but Soonyoung happily swept you away into dancing with him instead. The way you laughed would stick with Jeonghan for the rest of the night, leaving him with a warm sense of joy over another job well done. You’d fallen asleep in Soonyoung’s arms that night, giggling as he and Seokmin continued to pepper kisses onto your skin, saying something about teaching you one of their dances sometimes.
When Jeonghan woke up the next morning, he realized how much you looked like you belonged there. You always did, in his eyes, but now... It truly felt like you were one of them in every way, happily curled up and completely at peace in a way he hadn’t seen before. You were finding your home with them.
Jeonghan smiled to himself at the thought.
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A few days later, Jeonghan had called out to you as you lounged around the common area, a book you’d borrowed from Wonwoo in your hands. You held it to your chest as you made your way over to where he was packing wrapped meals into a bag alongside Jun and Joshua, and he’d already begun to fill you in: the three of them were going on a little picnic outside today. The weather wasn’t too hot, and they’d been wanting to go out for a while now...
“Do you want to join us?” He asked. He nodded toward the other two, “It was their idea.”
(Jeonghan, unfortunately, did not notice the look Jun and Joshua shared behind his back--which said to you that Jeonghan had just outright lied to you.)
“Are you sure?” You glanced over to Joshua, who’d continued to pack extra food into the bag. “I don’t want to bother you guys--”
“You aren’t!” Jun piped up immediately, making his way over. “We’d be glad to have you, if you want to come.”
With the extra support, you agreed to come along. The blanket had been handed to you to carry along, and you followed along behind them as they talked casually. Joshua and Jun seemed to head the charge, while Jeonghan lingered behind, just to stay in step with you. He’d waved casually enough to Soonyoung, who had lit up with realization that the five of you were going off for some sort of picnic, and darted off while calling out to Jihoon. Maybe you should have realized then and there that this wasn’t going to be limited to the four of you. While Joshua had found a cozy place for the four of you to eat, it’d barely been maybe twenty minutes at the most before you heard Soonyoung yelling for you all.
And where there was Soonyoung, there was the rest of the group. He’d found you five with ease and took off running, carrying a bag and a blanket in his own arms.
“What if we wanted to come?!” He huffed at Jeonghan more than Joshua or Jun, who’d giggled at how pouty the man had become.
Jeonghan had smiled, shoulder bumping against yours as he shifted into a more comfortable sitting position. “We didn’t say you couldn’t--”
“You didn’t tell us where you were going,” Chan whined as he made his way over, already taking up the empty space next to you. “That makes it look like you guys wanted to be alone.”
Jeonghan had rolled his eyes, making a comment that they found you all, didn’t they? Soon enough, everyone had joined all of you, blankets spread out and the conversation flying as you all ate yet another meal together. It was something you truly began to appreciate during your time living with them: breakfast and dinner together always felt like a way to center you all. It brought you all together, and it reminded you that you were cared for. Even now, Jun casually fed you a piece of fruit when he saw you eyeing it in the spread he’d set out, too far for you to reach casually since it was settled between himself and Joshua. There were plenty of dinners where he did the same for you, or he served you extra rice to make sure you were eating well... It was sweet to see. Jeonghan would wordlessly move the fruit closer to you after a moment, continuing on in his conversation without a care.
Eventually, the remnants of this meal was set aside to be carried back in when all of you decided to head in for the day. While you had been happy to sit with Jeonghan on your picnic blanket, the others had brought along other things to do. Mingyu had pulled out a ball to kick around with the others, already bringing up a game they must have played before you came--which had fired up Seungkwan immediately when he claimed that the last victory was a fluke. You watched as part of the group broke off and into two teams, taking the ball off to a more spacious area to hopefully avoid disrupting the rest of you. Wonwoo had decided to pass on the game this time, though (although not without Mingyu pouting at him for abandoning their team). You had pulled out the book that Wonwoo had given you, and you noticed the subtle way his eyes lit up with joy when he saw you’d brought it along, and he made a small comment that you should tell him how you like it eventually.
Jeonghan had been watching Seungcheol with the others when he spoke up a while later, mind seemingly elsewhere this entire time. “You know,” he said, “we almost left this once.”
You turned to him. “You... almost left?”
As if on cue, Joshua had been making his way over to rest for a few minutes, settling in on the other side of you. “Yeah,” he said. “Before Jun came, actually. It was... a really, really big fight we had with Seungcheol.”
Jeonghan nodded along, not quite looking at you past a tiny glance before he continued to watch Seungcheol. “When I first woke up here, Seungcheol hated how I kept asking questions all the time. He’d already accepted a lot of things as fact. But I didn’t know them, so I would ask.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And when I asked him why we don’t move on, he asked me why we should leave when we have everything here? And... I thought he was right.”
“And then I came along,” Joshua said, “and I asked a lot of the same questions--even after I saw Jeonghan end up with a fever because he’d asked too many. Whenever Cheol wasn’t around, we’d keep talking about things. Wondering what else was out there, why we’re staying here when there could be people out there.”
Jeonghan continued the story from there, “We agreed on a lot of it. And one day, I think we were both tired of never getting answers. So I looked at him, and I said, ‘Shua, let’s leave together.’ And he looked at me, and said ‘Jeonghan, let’s leave.’“
Even recounting the story now... Jeonghan felt an odd sense of familiarity with those words. As though they weren’t exact, but they were close enough to invoke a feeling that had long since been sleeping in his soul.
“So why didn’t you?” You leaned forward a little, trying to gauge anything from his face.
And with uncanny timing, Jeonghan and Joshua spoke together: “Cheol.”
Joshua shifted in his spot. “We went to Cheol, and we told him we were going to leave. And... I don’t remember who started crying first. It was one of us,” he leaned to where he could see Jeonghan,  “because Cheol didn’t cry until after--although he definitely looked like he was going to at any moment--”
“It was me,” Jeonghan openly admitted, voice a little softer while did so. Not out of shame, from what you could tell. Jeonghan never seemed ashamed of his emotions. “But you cried after I broke.”
“Neither of us wanted to leave, but... I don’t know. We kept questioning it, and it felt like we were trapped here without real answers.” Joshua’s gaze settled on Seungcheol, who’d nearly run into Mingyu while chasing the ball. “And then Seungcheol started crying because we were all he had.”
“We were all any of us had,” Jeonghan tugged at the grass, pulling up loose strands. “But if I had left with Shua, then he wouldn’t have had anyone. He opened up to us after that, actually. He tried to leave a few times before I came along. He’d pack a bag, and walk, and eventually end up coming back here in the end because it was the safer place to be.” He looked up, “So when he kept saying he didn’t think anyone was out there... He meant it.”
“Would you leave?” You asked, curling up a little tighter in your spot. “Now, I mean.”
Joshua didn’t hesitate, “No. You’ve never seen the city, Mouse. I think we’re really all that’s left now.”
And Jeonghan said nothing, only nodding along as he didn’t meet your eyes.
Joshua popped up from his spot. “You wanna play?” He nodded, offering a hand to you. “I think I’m gonna join back in.”
You shook your head. “I’m happy here with Hannie,” you said. “But thanks, Shua.”
“Keep this stuff to yourself, by the way,” Joshua said as he stretched in place. “We’ve never really told the others about it. We didn’t want anyone to think we’d take off one day.”
With the secured promise that you wouldn’t tell, Joshua ruffled your hair and returned to the game, running in to try and steal the ball from someone else. Jeonghan, however, remained quiet. You turned, watching him as he merely continued to watch the game, his gaze always returning to Seungcheol. And now with Joshua back in, he’d glance his way sometime, too, and linger a little too long...
“Jeonghan?” You said quietly, and he looked up with a hum. “Would... you leave?”
He shook his head. “This is home,” he said. “I don’t think I could leave it for anything now. Like Joshua said... If you’d seen the city, you’d know.”
“Then... Can I?”
“No.” He paused, realizing how harsh he had sounded with that serious edge to his voice. “Not now, I mean. Maybe next time Seungcheol takes some of us to scavenge. It’s okay,” he said, sliding a little closer to you. “Chan hasn’t seen it, either, and I think Hansol hasn’t, too... It’s a hard truth to swallow. You should enjoy not knowing while you can.”
“But I want to see it,” you frowned. “I just... I need to see it for myself.”
Ignorance is bliss, Jeonghan wanted to tell you. But he didn’t, because he knew the truth: ignorance was something that could swallow a person whole after a while. It was something that made you turn to someone you love wholeheartedly, and say Let’s leave together. Those words still rung in his head even now, the weight of them and a decision that wasn’t seen through resting on his shoulders. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he and Joshua had just... left. Would they have come back? Would Seungcheol even accept them back if they did? Or would the betrayal have been too much for even him, so determined to keep this group of people banded together that he took on his position in a direct attempt to make things easier for the rest?
Even weirder, those words haunted his dreams in this strange sense that he had said something similar to them. Had he? Jeonghan was sure that he said those exact words to Joshua, too. Maybe that was why they were so close now, soulmates of a different variety but soulmates nonetheless. They must have met in a past life and come together again, as if drawn to one another.
If Joshua was a soulmate to him, then Jeonghan felt as though he had more than one. Call it him being sentimental for the twelve--now thirteen, with you--people that he lived with, but sometimes he felt as though life brought them all together for a reason. There had to be a reason why they all seemed to fit together in this puzzle, as though they were always meant to be with each other. Jeonghan wondered where you fit in. He still felt complete with you there, yet it felt... different. Seeing you for the first time was a far different feeling than when he found Chan. There was no subtle sense of recognition that he felt in his soul, just.. peace. He felt at peace when you came. How peculiar.
“Mouse?” Jeonghan said quietly, waiting until you turned to him again. “Please... don’t leave us.”
It was vulnerable in a way you didn’t expect, based on the way that you looked at him--all wide-eyed and brows raising at his words. Yet you reached over, resting your hand over his, curling your fingers around it. That, too, made him feel at peace.
“I won’t.”
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Jeonghan found himself drifting. Not in the sense that he used to, back before even Jun had joined the group. He was drifting closer to you, as if there were this invisible pull that always brought him to you even when he was wandering aimlessly. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were tied together with a little red string that neither of you could see, always bringing you to one another. At first, Jeonghan thought it was his own worries that made him find you and try to pull you into the group. Now, he was sure it was becoming something else: something he wasn’t quite ready to face. Something he was less willing to name, too...
So he turned his attention to the fact that this was well into your third week of living with them. Next week meant hard work to get everything ready to celebrate you coming into their lives. Which, in Jeonghan’s eyes, meant that now was the time to take things a little easier. The weather was hot outside, and that meant it was the perfect time to not push themselves, but enjoy life a little more. He woke up early just to greet Seungcheol, wordlessly setting a cup of tea before him with one of those little cherry desserts Seokmin had made the day before.
“What?” Seungcheol looked up, already knowing that Jeonghan wanted something. This was the way most people tried to butter Seungcheol up, after all... because Jeonghan had started it.
He merely smiled, resting his head in one hand. “You’ve been stressed lately.”
“Just ask already.”
Where was the fun in that? Jeonghan chuckled, “I was thinking that we could take today and go to the lake together. As a family.”
It earned a tiny snort from Seungcheol: while they were a family, Seungcheol knew as anyone else did that throwing it around now was just meant to sway him further. “Jeonghan...”
“Just one day,” he pushed. “All of us deserve a day off. We can always afford it, you know.”
Seungcheol wiped away crumbs from the corner of his mouth, chewing slowly as he thought it over. Then he met Jeonghan’s eyes again. “You’re still worried about Mouse.”
Well, shit, that was... too spot-on.
“You shouldn’t be,” he said, looking back to the little dessert in his hand. “You’ve already done a lot for them.” Then he paused, gaze lifting to meet Jeonghan’s, “Unless... they said something to you?”
“A few weeks ago they said--”
“I meant recently.”
Jeonghan frowned. Couldn’t he just dote on you without it being this big thing? He always doted on people. Why would you be any different? “I just want to make sure they feel included here. They were right: people tend to pair off neatly. Chan always keeps them involved, but what about the rest of us?”
“We’ve been getting better about it,” Seungcheol said. “Are you worried about them not staying? They already made their decision.”
“I know, but...” He sighed. “I did the same, and Joshua and I almost--”
“They’re different,” Seungcheol interrupted. “Jeonghan. You can be honest with me.” He set aside the remaining piece of the dessert, fully turning to face his friend. “I’ve seen the way you look at them sometimes,” he lowered his voice, “as more than a friend.”
Jeonghan swore his mouth went dry within seconds. Shit. “I don’t feel that way about them,” he lied. “I just want them to be happy here--”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Seungcheol stood up, picking up the empty cup and plate. “You should be honest with yourself.”
“I am,” Jeonghan followed after him. “I love them like I love everyone else.” That was his job, in a way. Seungcheol was the leader of this group, Jeonghan was the heart. Joshua was a balance of them both. The three of them worked together to help lead--the same way Soonyoung and Jihoon could step up without hesitation when they needed to. Jeonghan always saw his job as being the one who openly loved and embraced people now, just to help things feel more like home.
Seungcheol looked up. “You pushed them toward Minghao when he brought everyone willing into a meditation session. And you did it again with Soonyoung, when he invited them to dance during our music night. You practically shoved them toward him,” he crossed his arms. “If you’re falling in love with them, then accept it, because I think they’re starting to fall for you, too.”
“They aren’t.”
Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head as he walked past. “If you’re going to reject them because you don’t feel the same, then do that. But don’t lie to yourself and pretend you don’t feel anything for them.” He paused for a moment, looking back, “start getting our bags ready. I’ll come help once I tell the others where we’re going.”
Jeonghan lit up with joy, planting a tiny kiss against his friend’s cheek before taking off--laughing at when Seungcheol groaned and told him to knock it off with the affection right after when he got his way (a teasing statement, surely: Jeonghan wasn’t afraid of skinship with Seungcheol in the slightest). Seungcheol eventually joined him alongside the others, filling bags with spare clothes and everything they would need to go off for a day and enjoy the lake. He smiled to himself when he saw you with Chan, packing your own bag as he excitedly talked about the last time they took a trip out to the lake. He’d been dunked under the water that time... a few times too many... but it was still a nice trip he’d enjoyed. He’d already warned you that some people would get competitive, since he already saw that Soonyoung was packing a ball to toss around. 
If you’re falling in love with them, accept it. Jeonghan stopped what he was doing, repeating the words again and again. Was he falling in love with you? It was one thing to think that you would ever fall for him when he merely showered you in affection to make you feel more at home... But what about him? He liked you. He knew that he did. But love? Could he even love a person after knowing them for a few weeks? Maybe that was the part that made him hesitate so much. He felt a sense of love for you, but that was entirely different from capital-L Love. There was something different in what he felt for you, sure, but...
The thought hung with him far longer than he meant for it to. Jeonghan wasn’t jealous. Except... he felt something when Soonyoung threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight on the walk to the lake. He felt that same annoyed something when Joshua looked him in the eyes and pressed a lingering kiss into your hair, smiling at him knowingly. He felt it again and again when Mingyu was too affectionate, when Chan held your hand...
Oh. Fuck. Jeonghan shut his eyes, head falling back lightly against the tree he’d been sitting against. “You might be right.”
Seungcheol hummed, looking up. “About?”
“You know what.”
And then he let out a soft chuckle. “I know.”
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The day of your celebration arrived quicker than he expected, and Jeonghan felt... antsier than he usually did on these days. There was always this shared sense of anticipation when these days came, this nervous energy filling the room as they prepared to celebrate either the decision to stay, or the decision to keep staying. When he hit his two year mark, postponing the celebration the same as Seungcheol did so that they could celebrate it with Joshua... he remembered staring at himself with this realization that this was it for him. That the day he and Joshua  looked at each other and decided to leave was long since gone. Sometimes he felt this tiny desire to go out and look for real, to know for sure that they were the only ones left in the world, but he’d learned to live with it. Maybe one day, if things changed, they’d all leave together. The idea of leaving (whether that be alone or with Joshua or with you, if you would have him...) lost its appeal over time. This, Jeonghan had decided, was home. The people here were home.
You, too, were home. Jeonghan had become certain of that over the past few weeks. Seungcheol had said as much in his usual speech, too.
The celebration slipped through the night like sand through Jeonghan’s fingers, gone all too soon. He’d committed the lines of your face into his memory, the way you smiled, the sound of your laughter... Every evidence of joy, Jeonghan wanted to remember. Even though he, like everyone else, didn’t remember what came before all of this... He could still make new memories. He could memorize the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the last rays of sunlight kissed your skin as it peeked through the curtains. The way his lips lingered on your cheek as he planted a kiss onto you, the same as everyone else did, for what felt like a few seconds too long. He’d commit the warm way his chest felt like it was glowing to memory, too: that was because of you. That much he was certain of. Who else had come along and made him feel like he was filled with sunlight so easily?
With almost everyone in bed, Jeonghan found himself enjoying the quiet that often followed big nights like these. He’d made himself a cup of tea, already making mental notes of who he would have to check on come morning. Chan had drank a lot alongside you tonight, so that already marked down two, and he was pretty sure Seokmin and Soonyoung did, too (Soonyoung was the one who kept leaning forward to kiss your cheek, even happier to do so once he was met with your happy giggles)... He was sure that he’d end up on clean-up duty with Seungcheol and Jihoon to get a head start on sweeping up petals and scrubbing at dried paint, while the others slept in a bit more before getting some sort of breakfast together.
“Hannie?”
He looked up from where he’d been standing in the kitchen, right in front of the sink so he could wash his mug and go straight to bed, to see you lingering in the doorway. You looked exhausted, and he felt his heart soften at the sight of you.
“You’re still up,” you rubbed at your eyes, mindful of the streaks of paint on your skin--a result of the others breaking out the paints alongside markers. Slowly, you made your way over to him, stopping just a few steps away. “Are you okay?”
The slight slur to your voice only made him worry a little. Had you gotten back up because he wasn’t in bed yet...? “I’m okay,” he said. “I thought you were going to cuddle with Seokmin--”
“Why do you do that?” You cut him off there, brows drawing together. “Why... Why do you keep pushing me away and toward Channie and the others?”
That was... one way to put it, maybe. “I’m not pushing you away--”
“You are!” You frowned, and then repeated a quieter “You are... I don’t understand what I did to make you not like me.”
“I do like you.” He set aside his mug, taking the few small steps he needed to be in front of you. Jeonghan gently took your face into his hands, your eyes snapping up to meet his, “Mouse... I care about everyone here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”
“So why,” you curled your fingers around his hands to pull them from your face, yet you didn’t let go, “don’t you want me around? I wanna... I wanna be around you, Hannie. Just you sometimes.” You squeezed his hands. “I... I think I love you...”
“You don’t love me like that,” he said quietly, “it’s okay, Mouse--”
In a rash moment of needing to prove him wrong, you leaned in, kissing him without a second thought. Jeonghan didn’t think at first, either, as he kissed you back as his soul had been so deeply craving to do so, eyes fluttering shut. Yet reason kicked in quickly, and he realized you weren’t sober right now. He pushed you back by the shoulders, hands lingering there as he searched for the right words to say. He saw the way your confidence seemed to dwindle down and extinguish out, leaving a smoky version of the you he loved in its place.
“We can’t,” was what he said. Not like this refused to go past his tongue, uncertainty squeezing in his chest. Did you even want to actually kiss him? Or were you just drunk and affectionate in the way Soonyoung was? Why couldn’t he just... believe that you loved him as much as he wanted to?
Your eyes began to water, and your name died on his lips as you pulled away, already babbling off an apology for bothering him. Although you tried to get away, Jeonghan stopped you.
“It’s okay,” he tried to say, hand loosely curled around your wrist, “you don’t need to apologize--”
All at once, the dam broke, and you began to cry more. Your words were muffled as you buried your face in your hands, but Jeonghan could make out the apologies you kept spilling, saying something about how you loved everyone there but you had started loving him more. That kissing him was bad and you hoped he didn’t hate you...
“Jeonghan?” Seungcheol called out as he came in, fully awake in a way that made Jeonghan’s heart lurch. Shit, was he listening? Did he see what happened? His gaze flitted over to check on you, and then he met Jeonghan’s eyes again, “Are they okay? What happened?”
Jeonghan wasn’t sure what to say. “They’re just overwhelmed,” he lied, trying to spare you any embarrassment. “I think they drank too much.”
It was clear on Seungcheol’s face that he didn’t believe any of it. “I’ll get them to bed,” he said, “and then we can talk. Alright?”
Jeonghan sighed, nodding as he leaned back against the counter. He watched as Seungcheol gently wrapped an arm around you, speaking in a low voice about how Seokmin was still waiting for you--and that he could help cheer you up. He played into the lie, though, saying not to worry about chores come morning, that you could sleep in with the others who drank a little too much, too. The room fell silent soon enough, and Jeonghan shut his eyes. When did all of this become so complicated? He felt like other people would be upset or mad that you had impulsively kissed him like that, yet... Jeonghan couldn’t be angry with you. Not when he grew weak and kissed you back because loving you and being loved in return was the one thing he wanted more than anything else.
The quiet footsteps signaled Seungcheol’s return, and Jeonghan lifted his head to watch his friend as he grew closer with each step. 
“Joshua and Seokmin are taking care of them,” he said, slowing to a stop a few steps away. “I told them the lie you told me.”
Jeonghan let out a sigh. “I can’t get anything past you.”
“You can,” a tiny smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth, “just not this.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, “So? You can talk to me.”
Normally, Jeonghan might try to weasel his way out of these conversations. Seungcheol dealt with enough as it was, and he wasn’t fond of adding onto that weight. But he merely looked up. “They kissed me. And I pushed them away because they’re drunk.” After kissing them back, a voice piped up in the back of his head, you greedy--
“But that’s not all,” Seungcheol spoke up, drowning out that little voice before it could go any further. “Jeonghan, I... I didn’t hear everything they said. If something’s wrong, I need to know.”
“They said that I keep pushing them away,” Jeonghan hugged himself. “And that they think I don’t like them.”
“But you do.” Seungcheol let out a quiet sigh. “Jeonghan--”
“They’re not wrong,” he said. “I have been pushing them toward other people because I do like them. If I stop spending so much time with them, these feelings will go away.”
“Do you want them to?”
Jeonghan decided enough was enough. He turned, fully facing Seungcheol. “Tell me you’ll be okay.”
“What?”
“I know how you feel about them,” Jeonghan said. “The reason I’ve been trying to push them away is because I feel like I’ll betray you if I actually let something happen between us. You love them, Cheol. So do I. So does Chan, and I think Joshua and Hansol do, a little, too.” He curled his fingers into his arm, digging them in to ground himself. “The others I know will be okay, because we’ve talked. But will you actually be okay, or are you going to just say it because you always put the rest of us first?”
Seungcheol said nothing as he watched Jeonghan, brows drawing together as his words sank in. “Jeonghan--”
“If you say no, I’ll wait until we’re all ready to take this step.” Jeonghan took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “This isn’t just something that affects them and I. It affects all of us. Things are going to change,” he drifted a step back, bumping into the counter as he leaned against it once more. “So I want to know everyone’s ready to deal with that.”
Seungcheol slowly nodded after a moment. “Jeonghan...” His eyes met Jeonghan’s a moment later. “I wouldn’t stop you--”
“That isn’t what I want to know.” Because I know that, Jeonghan watched him for a moment. I know you’d never stop any of us.
Another slow nod. “I promise,” he said in a low voice, just to keep it between the two of them, “I’ll be okay.” His voice returned to its normal volume a second later, “We’re all adults here. I want them to be happy. If they’re with you, then I know they will be.”
Jeonghan chuckled warmly at the thought. “Just with me?”
“You know that I mean,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Really... Sometimes I feel like we’re immature about these things.”
Jeonghan shook his head. “I just needed to hear you say it.” If he heard Seungcheol say it, then he could fully let himself believe it. He could then finally let go and let himself fall fully, embracing the sweetness of a love reciprocated with everything he had.
“So...” Seungcheol grew closer, his shoulder almost bumping into Jeonghan’s now. “You fell for them.”
He nodded. “At first I just liked stealing them away to have a napping buddy during chores, but... I don’t know. They’re sweet,” he shrugged, “and at some point, I realized I was falling for them.”
“Is that why you pushed them away?” Seungcheol watched him. “Or were you trying to matchmake them with Chan?”
Another warm laugh bubbled up from Jeonghan. “Both. Before Minghao organized the meditation session, I actually pushed them toward Chan. But it’s a little obvious they only see him as a friend.”
Seungcheol nodded along. “And you said you talked to him?”
“He got mad and said he’s an adult who can handle this kind of thing,” Jeonghan said. “And maybe that if I didn’t treat them right, then he was going to try and steal them.”
“That’s true of all of us,” his shoulder bumped against Jeonghan’s, the two chuckling at the thought. “Do you think... in another life... we’d even be having this discussion?”
Jeonghan lifted his gaze to meet Seungcheol’s, brows furrowing as he mulled over his words for a moment. “What?”
Seungcheol opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not. Talk to me.”
Seungcheol pushed off. “Maybe another time,” he said, walking off, only to stop and look back to Jeonghan. “Take care of them,” he said, “I know you will, but... I just need to hear you say it.”
Jeonghan smiled a little. “I will,” he promised.
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Whether you were avoiding Jeonghan or if Jeonghan was avoiding you, you weren’t sure anymore. For the past few days, you’d been trying to avoid him. The morning after your celebration, you woke up with a killer headache and the sickening memory of the fact you’d kissed Jeonghan. When you tried to apologize to him, he merely ruffled your hair and said that it was fine before making sure you were feeling alright. The laid back nature of that talk was enough to make you decide to keep to yourself, your worries that he was hiding how he felt were running rampant. When you tried to ask Seungcheol about it, he merely told you to give Jeonghan a little space--only confirming the idea that you fucked up, to be honest--and talk to him about how you felt when you felt the time was right.
“I just don’t want to ruin things between us,” you told Chan one day, long after chores were done, while you were resting on your stomach as you watched him search through the games that were downstairs. Seungkwan and Hansol would join the two of you soon enough, but you’d rather keep this conversation between you and Chan. You already knew what they’d say: Hansol would tell you that you should talk to Jeonghan about how you felt, and Seungkwan would call you silly for worrying so much.
“You won’t.”
“But how do you know that?” You sat up, pouting at him. Yet when Chan didn’t meet your eyes, realization struck. “Wait. He said something?”
He turned, wide-eyed that you’d guessed. “No--”
“Channie,” you got up, making your way over to sit next to him. “Is he mad at me? Just tell me if he’s mad at me. I’ll apologize again if he is--”
“He’s not mad at you.”
Despite the relief that statement brought you, you still felt as though something was off. You watched as Chan looked through the games again, although it felt like he wasn’t quiet looking now that you were seeing him closer. Like he was just distracting himself. “... Channie?”
“I...” He paused, and then turned to you. “I like you.” He said quietly. “And I know you don’t like me the same way. But I do, and I still want to be your friend,” he paused for a second, gauging your reaction, “so if that changes your mind about hanging out today, then that’s okay.” He paused, “I just... I wanted to tell you for once.”
Your gaze softened. “Oh. Chan...” You reached for his hands, taking a deep breath as you let everything sink in. “Thank you for telling me. I... I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way, but I do love having you as my best friend.”
That made his eyes light up. “Your... best friend?”
“Yeah!” You beamed, squeezing his hands. “You’re my best friend here, Channie. You’ve been here for me since the beginning. I really do appreciate you being honest with me, and... and if you need time to deal with this, then that’s okay. You can just tell me when. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend and that I still love you.” 
His eyes were twinkling, and he turned away for a moment, “Really... I didn’t think you’d be so...” He trailed off, “but I still love you, too. I’m glad you’re my best friend, too.”
The two of you grew closer as Chan wrapped you in his arms, squeezing tight. You smiled, hugging him back happily. If he needed the time to get over his crush on you, you could give him that as long as it still meant he’d be your friend in the end.
“Am... I interrupting something?” Joshua called out from the entrance to the room. “I can go if I am--”
“No!” Chan called out, pulling away from you. “No, we’re just--We talked. It’s nothing serious, just--” His cheeks were growing redder. “Do you need something?”
“Hansol said you guys were going to play games,” he made his way over. “Have you picked one yet?”
Chan shook his head. “We got distracted talking...”
“Great!” Joshua sat down. “There’s actually this card game I wanted to show you.” He turned to you, “Mouse, can you go get the deck from upstairs? Seungkwan likes it more.” 
You furrowed your brows. “What?”
Joshua gestured vaguely in the shape of a stacked deck of cards, “There’s this cute deck of cards that’s upstairs. We brought it back from our last trip into the city. They’ve got flowers on one side and the stripes on the other with the suit and numbers and stuff. I wanna use that deck,” he said. “Please?”
Chan looked between the two of you. “Um... I can go get it--”
“Mouse needs to know what it looks like,” Joshua pushed a little more, “in case we ever lose it. Just so they know what we’d be looking for.”
“You aren’t making any sense--”
You stood up anyway. “It’s with the other games, right?”
Joshua lit up immediately. “Yes! You can’t miss it. It’ll stand out, trust me.”
Although you swore you heard the sound of Joshua smacking Chan’s arm as you walked away, you continued on your little quest without much thought. The trek from the room you’d been in up to the church wasn’t too bad, although you’d always hate scaling the ladder into the attic. Was it really so vital that you get this one deck of cards? There were a few downstairs, and you thought that deck was down there anyway because Seokmin had used it for a game with a few of the others--you included. But maybe there was a second one you weren’t aware of.
The moment you could see into the attic, you realized what Joshua had been doing. “Jeonghan?”
He made his way to you quickly, helping you into the attic. “Hi.”
“I was supposed to--”
“That was a lie,” Jeonghan said quickly. “Joshua said he’d find a way to get you up here.” He took a few steps back, not bothering to try and hide the dinner that was sitting on a blanket he’d spread out on the floor. “Can we talk?”
You nodded, although you looked down at everything he’d spread out. “How did you--”
“Shua.” Jeonghan slowly sat down, patting the empty spot near him. “He helped with all of this, actually. I asked him to.”
After a moment of hesitation, you sat down and faced him. One way or another, the two of you hadn’t spoken all that much in the past few days... and now Jeonghan had prepared dinner for the two of you, likely to have alone. You might not have seen through Joshua’s not-so-subtle ruse to get you up here until now that you were thinking about it more, but you were definitely able to put two and two together now that the only person you needed to focus on was Jeonghan.
“So you...?”
“I love you.” He said it out loud, unafraid to finally let himself say it. How long had he fought against it? How many times had he pushed it away while trying to think of your own happiness by pushing you toward everyone else...? “And I denied it because I thought you’d be happier with someone else. I’m not sorry that I pushed you away that night, but I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you sooner.”
Truthfully, you couldn’t blame him for pushing you away: you were drunk. Even though you wanted to kiss him now... You didn’t like the idea that your first kiss with him was like that. “Jeonghan... I’m sorry I kissed you.”
“You were drunk,” he said, “you weren’t thinking. And... I kissed you back at first, too.”
“That’s still not an excuse,” you quickly said. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have done it--”
Jeonghan nodded. “Right. So let’s let it be in the past now,” he said. “And... Talk about us and what comes next.”
What comes next... The idea made your face grow warmer, heart beating a little quicker than before. Jeonghan wanted something to come next, and so did you... That meant a lot to hear out loud, to be honest. “So.. You love me?”
He nodded. “I... I think I do. At first, I thought I just wanted to help you feel more included here. I wanted you to be happy. And... I don’t know--I think I realized it at some point and decided that your happiness came first in more ways than usual.”
“Do you normally put everyone else first?” You frowned a little. You understood it would happen sometimes but...
He sheepishly nodded. “I’m used to it. Seungcheol and Joshua do it, too. We watch over everyone together. That’s... That’s our role, I think.”
“So....” You toyed with a loose string on your sleeve, not quite meeting his gaze now. “You were pushing me toward other people?”
Another nod, although he seemed a little more factual this time around. Like it was something he just needed to admit and move past. “I was. I decided I would do anything to make you happy, even if it meant watching you love someone else.”
“Was I not obvious enough?” You asked quietly. “I mean... I always ran off with you whenever you asked. I spent a lot of time with you--I went to everything that you arranged because you were involved.”
“Not for the others?” He raised a brow.
“For them, too,” you said. “I just... I knew you were doing it for me. So I’d go and be a part of things so that your effort wasn’t wasted. I liked being a part of the group, but I liked seeing you happy.”
“Well...” Jeonghan shifted so that he’d be sitting a little closer to you. “Then that’s something we have in common,” he smiled. “I like seeing you happy, too.”
You had a feeling you knew what was coming next. So you moved a little closer. “Hannie?” You felt your face grow warmer. “Can... Can we have a do-over on that whole ‘first kiss’ thing?”
He chuckled warmly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “So you want to kiss me again?”
“You’re such a dork,” you sighed blissfully, “yes, I want to kiss your stupidly handsome face again. For real this time.”
He chuckled. “As you wish.”
Jeonghan leaned in, letting you close that distance between the two of you as your lips captured his in a gentle kiss. The first time you kissed him, it had been impulsive, and something he’d leaned into out of a need to be closer to you. Yet this time that need was far softer, far gentler than it had been before. It was as though letting himself love you wholeheartedly made him feel safer in taking things slower, in kissing you far gentler the way he thought all first kisses with someone so beloved to him should be (not that there was anyone else on the same level as you). He cupped your face, eyes fluttering shut as he felt you smile into this kiss.
When he drew back, he saw the way your confidence seemed to burn brighter in you. You pulled him back in for another quick kiss, as if it was your way of having the last word. He’d let you have it this time (but next time? He’d fight a little more, just to leave you breathless and to tease you further). This time, he just wanted to admire you, hand still cupping your face as he ran his thumb along your cheek.
“Things are going to change between all of us,” he said gently. “Are you ready for that?”
You thought, for a moment, that hearing it would have brought this sense of dread. The two of you would have to face everyone at some point and announce that your relationship had changed, and that did mean the dynamics among the group would shift a little, too. Yet with Jeonghan saying it to you... You felt ready. If you faced everyone with him by your side, hand-in-hand, you would be fine.
“I am,” you said after a moment. “Are you?”
And he smiled, leaning in for another kiss. “As long as I have you, I will be.” He knew deep down that he could face anything as long as he had everyone together, especially if he had you right beside him. His lips ghosted over yours for a moment. He drew back, quietly saying your name. “Let’s stay together.”
After a moment, you nodded, taking his hands in your own. “Let’s stay,” you said, taking his hands in your own. He weaved his fingers with your own, holding on tight. “Together.”
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