#which is part of why i had disordered eating in the first place. well that and dysphoria

[just-nc-tea]

nine and three quarters pt. 3 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

⭑.ᐟ Roommate to Lovers - Park Sunghoon Somehow, in the middle of your semester break, you ended up with a new roommate. Your landlord rented out the second room in your flat without telling you, and now you’re living with Sunghoon. At first, your paths barely cross – you’re buried in work, and he’s always at the rink. But slowly, he slips into your routine in ways you never expected. Then one night, everything shifts. A blurred memory, a moment of fear—and Sunghoon catching you before you can fall. Suddenly, it’s not awkward anymore. You start looking forward to him coming home. Maybe—just maybe—home isn’t a place. Maybe it’s a person.

ᝰ genre. Figure skater!Sunghoon, college sports, angst, hurt/comfort, SO MUCH FLUFF!!! FINALLY!!! ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of alcohol, hospital visits, mentions of rape, mentions of date-rape-drugs, mentions of the police, panic attacks, eating disorder, psychologists .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ features. Mark, Johnny, Taeyong & Jungwoo from NCT, Woonyoung and Rei from IVE ᝰ word count. 25.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 1 --⟢ PART 2

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

Flowers.  There were flowers. You bought flowers. That was the first thing Sunghoon noticed when he came home after class a few days after the break ended. He dropped his bag onto one of the chairs in the kitchen and took two big steps towards the window. A small bouquet of purple flowers was standing in the vase he bought you at the market. The scent of the flowers was sweet and hardy, filling the kitchen.

The next thing he noticed was how full the kitchen was. The basket you used for fruit, which was standing on the kitchen table, was usually empty since fresh produce is quite expensive, but today it was filled to the brim with apples, bananas, mangos, and tangerines. The fridge was full of vegetables and two cartons of eggs.  He blinked into the fridge. This was a lot of food. You were barely able to eat a plate of eggs and cucumber, so why did you buy so much? How did you carry all of this upstairs? The elevator was still broken, and he had noticed that just walking up the 4 flights of stairs without a bag was already hard for you, so how did you…

“Sunghoon!” A warm palm clapped gently against his back, and Sunghoon turned with a quiet jolt. Mark was standing in front of him with a big grin adorning his face. “Hey,” Sunghoon greeted, a little breathless. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.” Mark shrugged with a smile, sitting down on a kitchen chair. “Y/N asked me to go to the market with her and I didn’t want her to carry all of the stuff alone, so I just came along.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing again at the overflowing fruit basket and the fridge. “This is a lot of food.” Mark laughed under his breath. “Yeah, I kinda went overboard. She let me pick up too much stuff. She said you two eat together sometimes, so I figured—why not get enough for both of you? Johnny and Taeyong gave her money for groceries anyway. I just made her spend it.”

Sunghoon gave a soft huff of laughter, eyes still on the fridge. “It’s just… a lot. She usually doesn’t—” “I know,” Mark cut in, voice softer now.  Sunghoon turned to look at him, but Mark’s gaze was fixed on the fruit basket. “She’s trying,” Mark said quietly. “But it helps when someone’s eating with her. Even if it’s just rice and cucumber. Even if she can’t finish everything. Just... not doing it alone makes it easier. So I thought maybe if we bought enough for the two of you, you could start cooking and eating together? I know you aren't really that close with Y/N, or well, I don't really know, Y/n and I haven't exactly been talking a lot, she was kinda avoiding us all. But I was hoping you could maybe just…help a bit.” Sunghoon swallowed thickly. He didn’t know you were avoiding your brother. He was wondering why Mark was never over. When he first met Mark, it seemed like you two spent a lot of time together. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to help.” “You are.” Mark looked up and met his eyes, serious for a moment. “She told you what’s happening. That’s big.” Sunghoon nodded. “I’ll cook with her.”

Mark smiled again, this time smaller. “That always worked when we were teens. Even if I was eating three servings of curry, and she was barely finishing her salad. It was still better.” Footsteps echoed down the hallway and both of them looked up just as you stepped into the kitchen, towel still around your neck and damp hair brushing your collarbone. You were wearing one of Sunghoon’s shirts. He said nothing and tried to not react outwardly, but something fluttered low in his chest. Sometimes, when you had all the shirts you used as pyjamas in the wash, you took one of Sunghoon’s. He had so many shirts from training camps or competitions that were in his pyjama drawer that he didn’t really care if you stole one once in a while.  “Hey,” you said, blinking at the two of them. “You didn’t put the mangoes in the fridge?” “You didn’t say where you wanted them,” Mark shot back easily. “Cold mangoes are elite, and you know it.” You moved toward the fruit basket, pushing your towel back from your shoulders. Sunghoon moved a step to the side to let you open the fridge door.  As you opened the door, Mark’s eyes landed on the meal calendar you’d stuck on the fridge. His expression twisted into a grin.

“Are those the monkey stickers from Taeyong?” You froze. “Mark—” “Oh my god, you’re actually using them.” “They’re cute!” you defended, cheeks a little pink as you grabbed the sheet and stuck it to the fridge underneath Sunghoon’s new magnet from the aquarium in Busan. He was quite touched that you thought of him while you were at home. He imagined being home, visiting doctors, even if they were people you knew, wasn’t the most pleasant thing to do, and when you did something nice, you thought of him. He felt all giddy thinking about it. Mark laughed and threw his hands up. “You know what? You’re right. They are better than the strange dinosaurs Hyuck bought you. I am still haunted by the T Rex that had the head of another dinosaur in its mouth. You really didn’t have to use them.” “But Donghyuck Oppa bought them for me. And I didn’t want to be ungrateful.”, you huffed and leaned onto the counter next to Sunghoon. Your arms were touching, and it sent a warm sensation up his arm.  Then Sunghoon’s stomach grumbled. Loudly.

The sound broke through the room like a slapstick sound effect, and you both froze. Then slowly, so slowly,you turned to look at him. His ears turned pink immediately. “…I guess I’m hungry,” he admitted, voice sheepish. You blinked at him, something gentle dancing behind your eyes. Then, very softly you asked: “Do you want to eat?” There was a pause. Not a long one. Just long enough for him to meet your eyes and realize you weren’t just asking him if he was hungry. You were asking if he wanted to eat with you. Sunghoon swallowed. Cleared his throat. “Spaghetti?” Mark, silently watching from the other side of the kitchen, perked up. “You two want me to chop something?”

You nodded without looking away from Sunghoon. “Only if you’re okay staying a little longer.” Mark grinned. “I’m not moving unless you kick me out.” Sunghoon smiled too, just a little. “We could use the veggies for the sauce. One of my friend’s girlfriends makes a protein bolognese for Jake all the time. Like, shredded carrots and lentils with beef.” “I’ll get the cutting board.” You moved to the cabinet and started pulling out the dry pasta. Sunghoon turned on the stove, filled a pot with water, and placed it on the burner. “Hey, could I turn on some music?” Mark asked after he washed a bell pepper. “Sure.”, you hummed beside Sunghoon, who was busy cutting the beef he still had in the fridge. You looked up at Sunghoon. “Can we use your speaker?” you asked softly. “Yeah,” Sunghoon said, a little distracted as he trimmed the fat from the beef. “It’s on my desk.”

He blinked a second later, realizing what he’d just said. Wait. His room. “Shit,” he mumbled to himself. Mark, hearing him, raised a brow but didn’t comment. Sunghoon had just started mentally cataloging the chaos in his room when you returned, speaker in hand, looking completely unbothered. You handed it to Mark. He blinked. “Did you… find it okay?” “Yeah. It was right where you said.” You nodded and just turned back to the stove and stirred the sauce.

Mark hooked up his phone, and music started playing—something upbeat and chill, some indie R&B track.

Sunghoon stared at you for a second longer. The soft sway of your hair, the way your head bobbed gently to the beat while you stirred. You looked calm and so soft. A strand of your hair was falling forward, and he had the impulse to tuck it behind your ear. Somehow, he really had a thing for your hair. Whenever you were watching TV together, he somehow had a strand of hair between his fingers.  He blinked and quickly looked away before either of you could catch him smiling.

────────────────────── Mark left after dinner and took the music with him.  You stood by the sink, sleeves rolled up, drying a plate while Sunghoon rinsed the next one. He passed it to you without a word, hands brushing for the briefest second.  “Thanks for cooking,” you said softly, folding the towel around the plate. “That was really good.” He gave a small, sheepish smile. “Thanks for helping. You ate a full portion.” Your eyes flicked up to his, surprised for a moment. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I did.” And then, with a little breath of something like pride, you turned and padded to the fridge.

Sunghoon watched as you peeled another monkey sticker from the sheet tucked into the side of the calendar and pressed it beside today’s date. It joined two others already in a row, little grinning faces in cartoon yellow. He couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his mouth. His chest went warm, gentle, and a little achy. You glanced over your shoulder. “It’s kind of dumb, I know.” “It’s not,” he said quickly. You turned fully, arms crossed lightly over your front. The corners of your mouth twitched. “It’s a little dumb.” “It’s cute,” he corrected, flicking a bit of water off his fingers in your direction.  You huffed a quiet laugh, your gaze dropping for a second. 

Sunghoon picked up the last pan and scrubbed at it slowly, the tension in the room softening. The silence between you felt different now. Not awkward. He couldn’t really name the feeling, but he started to really like feeling like this. Comfortable.  You leaned next to him a few minutes later, hip brushing his. A little closer than you would’ve stood a few weeks ago. He liked that. “You want tea?” you asked. He turned to you. “Only if we drink it on the sofa and watch people get dramatic over nothing again.” You grinned. “It’s not nothing. Their friend literally faked a pregnancy and then ghosted the guy.” “Yeah, but like. He kind of deserved it.” You snorted and went to fill the kettle. Sunghoon turned back to the sink and finished the dishes. He didn’t say it yet. Not out loud. But he was proud of you. So proud he felt like his chest couldn’t quite contain it.

────────────────────── The sound of blades scraping against the ice echoed sharply and hollowly through the near-empty rink. Sunghoon skated to the barrier and braced his hands on it, chest heaving. His reflection in the plexiglass was sweaty, flushed and scowling. He squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t landed a clean jump all morning. Two weeks ago, he’d flown. His legs had been light, movements clean, choreography crisp.  Today he couldn’t even get through the first half of the routine. He slipped on a stupid step sequence and landed hard enough that his shoulder still ached. He pushed away from the barrier, gliding back to the center of the rink. His Coach wasn’t watching right now. He was yelling at one of the juniors on the other side. Sunghoon exhaled. Focus. The music started again, low and distant through the speakers. He took off, arms slicing through the air, each push of his skate a little too forceful. Too much. He turned into the first jump. And hit the ice again, hard. Flat on his side. “Shit,” he hissed through his teeth, clutching his elbow as the cold bled through his clothes. He stayed down for a second too long, his breath fogging up in front of his face. “What the hell is wrong with me,” he muttered, sitting up slowly. He could see a smear on the ice where he landed. His heart felt like it was rattling in his ribs. Anger, embarrassment, frustration. He pulled off his gloves, hands shaking slightly, and ran them over his face. The cold stung his skin. His eyes burned too. He climbed to his feet, teeth clenched. He didn’t know why he thought today would be better. ────────────────────── The figure skaters had cleared out half an hour ago. He could hear the ice hockey players in the rink's changing room. They would be out here in a few minutes. But Sunghoon didn’t move. He was sprawled on the ice, limbs spread in all directions, his chest rising and falling quickly. His program music played on repeat, louder now that the other skaters were gone. He barely twitched when a sharp hiss of skates sounded beside him, followed by a spray of snow that landed all over his glove. “Dude,” Heeseung’s voice rang out over him. “What happened to you?” Sunghoon blinked up at the ceiling. “I won’t pass the tryouts.” Heeseung stared down at him. “That’s funny,” he said flatly. “Because you said the exact same thing before Nationals and you second.” Sunghoon’s laugh was more of a groan. “Yeah, and I still don’t know how I pulled that off.” Heeseung crouched beside him on the ice, propped on the butt of his stick, brows raised. “Are you falling again or just giving up entirely?”

Sunghoon didn’t move. Just sighed and stared at the rafters overhead. “I’m not giving up. I just can’t land anything today. It’s like my body forgot what edges are.” Heeseung let out a low whistle. “I didn't know you're that dramatic.” “I’m serious,” Sunghoon muttered. “Tryouts are in two weeks, and I can’t even make it through one clean run. I barely made it through the warm-up jumps today. What if I already peaked?” “You said the same thing before Nationals.” “Yeah, and maybe I did peak there. Maybe that was it. My fluke moment.” Heeseung rolled his eyes. “You always say that. Then you pull a quad out of nowhere and land it like it’s nothing. Maybe you're just stressed. I mean the Olympic team is crazy. I would be stressed.” Sunghoon finally sat up, resting his arms on his knees. His gloves were wet from the ice, fingertips numb. “I am stressed, but I was stressed before the nationals too,” he said, quieter. “But it was different. I was worried about Y/N. And now she’s doing better. She’s eating. There’s a monkey sticker on that stupid meal calendar every single day. Sometimes even two. So I shouldn’t feel like this anymore.” Heeseung studied him for a second. “But you still do?” Sunghoon looked away. “I guess. It’s not her. She’s fine. I’m just… off.” Heeseung didn’t say anything for a beat. Then, softly, “You sure it’s not still her?” Sunghoon’s head snapped up. “I’m not—no. I can’t—she’s my roommate, Heeseung.” Heeseung shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you don’t care. You’re just not used to caring this much about someone off the ice.” “I care about you,” Sunghoon shot back defensively “Yeah,” Heeseung deadpanned, “but you don’t glue monkey stickers to a fridge for me.” Sunghoon’s ears went pink. “I’m just saying,” Heeseung went on, “You’re still you, Hoon. Just… someone else has your whole focus now. Someone who glues Monkey stickers to calendars.” Sunghoon didn’t answer. Not because he disagreed. But because he didn’t know how to say that the idea scared him just as much as it warmed him. He picked at the edge of his skate and stood. “Tryouts are in two weeks.” “And if you play your cards right, monkey stickers are forever,” Heeseung grinned, skating backward. “Shut up.”

──────────────────────

The apartment was dark when Sunghoon finally stepped inside.

He dropped his bag quietly by the door, the soft clink of his keys the only sound in the quiet. He slipped off his shoes and let the door close behind him with a soft thud. It was close to midnight. You were asleep. Probably. Sunghoon padded into the kitchen on socked feet. He felt a little sore from the extra reps and the weight session in the gym. He'd showered at the rink, taken a half-hour nap on the office couch while Heeseung’s girlfriend typed away at her computer. Sunghoon really liked her. Heeseung and her have been dating for almost a year now. When he first met her, she was sitting in a wheelchair. Heeseung told him that she had gone through several surgeries after a car crash when she was younger.  The crash cut her career short.  He often had to think about that. How sometimes he wished he had a reason to just stop skating and get a normal job, have normal hobbies, but he also saw the way Heeseung’s girlfriend looked at the ice, with so much longing, it made his heart heavy.  The kitchen was cool, the scent of whatever you ate for dinner was still faint in the air. The sink held one plate and a fork, rinsed off neatly. His eyes went to the fridge without thinking. To today’s date.  A shiny monkey sticker was pressed next to it. Not one, but two. He smiled slightly. You must’ve had a good day. Sunghoon walked over and pressed the tip of his finger to the little monkey face. The sticker crinkled slightly under his touch. There was a note, too. Scrawled quickly, in your handwriting, on a Post-it note just under the sticker. "Spaghetti with mushrooms and carrots, and that protein powder. Bon appétit!" He huffed a quiet laugh, even as something tugged tight in his chest. He reached out, brushing his thumb gently over the corner of the sticky note. Sunghoon heated the rest of the pasta you'd portioned out for him, plating it carefully despite the hour. He sat down at the kitchen table with it, elbows on the wood, bare feet tucked up under the chair. A part of him wanted to go peek into your room just to see you. But he didn’t. He sat in the kitchen eating his dinner, letting his heart slow, his breath even out, his shoulders finally drop.

────────────────────── You were in a good mood when you left the house. The sun had been out when you stepped onto the pavement. You’d remembered to bring your water bottle and the playlist you’d put on during the bus ride was perfect for the mood outside. Even your coffee hadn’t tasted like dirt. You slipped into your lecture seat and pulled out your sketchbook. You’d started your last assignment over, more organized this time, cleaner. It felt nice to look at your own work and not instantly hate it. And for once, you weren’t behind. Not truly. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Sunghoon: Y/N do you want new stickers?  Daiso has cute ones rn Im gonna bu them even if yo say no buy* you* sorry i was rushing a bit. 

You smiled. Today made it twelve days in a row. You’ve used almost all of the monkeys. And honestly? You were kind of proud of that. The stickers made it feel like you did something, even on the days you were just eating plain rice and steamed broccoli. You were up to almost 1000 kcal a day now, pushing toward 1100 kcal. Taeyong had sent you new stickers in the mail, cats, and you’d shown them to Sunghoon like they were the best thing he had ever seen. He looked so happy. His face had lit up in this quiet, surprised way. You weren’t even sure if he knew how tired he looked lately. He’d been home late almost every night this week, his shoulders tense and a frown was living permanently between his brows. But when you pulled out the little cat sheet and told him you wanted to try eating just a bit more each day, he smiled so wide.  That thought carried you halfway through class. Until the professor flipped the slide and reminded everyone, “Final sketches are due on Tuesday. Don’t forget we moved the deadline up.” Tuesday? That was four days from now.  You stared at the slide for a second longer than necessary. Then you flipped back through your notes. You started the sketches. You had a clear idea, the concept was solid, and if you pulled a long night today and a longer one Saturday, you could do it. You didn’t have to work this weekend, and you’d already done your weekly session with Ten, which meant the next few days were yours. You could absolutely do this. Lately, things have been different.  You were different.  Bit by bit, like someone had found the dimmer switch on your brain and slowly started turning it back up. You hadn’t even realized how much the party had stuck with you. It wasn’t just the throwing up. It was the way your chest clenched when someone offered you food or drinks. The way you hated opening your inbox. The way you could cry over a spilled coffee, or absolutely nothing at all.

Ten had helped you with that.

You weren’t fixed after the first few sessions.  You were still tired. Still got this dull ache behind your eyes or your ribs some mornings. Still, sometimes whispered a quiet sorry to the mirror when your shirt hung too loose. But you were getting there. You were okay. And if you weren’t okay yet, you would be. You caught Renjun’s question a few beats late. “How’s your draft going?” You gave him a half-smile. “Good. I’m almost done.” Which wasn’t a lie. You would finish it. You knew you could. Because you’d done harder things already. You had done this in the first semester so often, this should be easy.

────────────────────── You were adjusting your grip on three oversized rolls of paper, trying not to let them knock into your knees, when you saw Sunghoon. Headphones on, walking with his shoulders slightly hunched. You brightened instinctively, smiling at him, but your smile dipped, just slightly, when he got close enough for you to see the set of his jaw. He looked… tired. And tense. Maybe even upset. You shifted your weight, hugging the paper tubes a little closer, and offered a quiet, “Hi.” His gaze flicked up. And like magic, it all softened. The furrow between his brows, the stiff set of his shoulders. He gave a small exhale, like just seeing you let out some of the tension. “Hey,” he said, low and tired, but warm. “What’s with all the… paper?” You let out a laugh. “I stayed in the studio after class. I’m doing a huge concept draft this weekend. Guess who’s pulling an all-nighter?” He eyed your supplies, then you. “Please don’t say you.” You bit your lip. “It’s due Tuesday, and I was kinda distracted during the break. But I think I can make it work. I have a plan.” He reached out and gently tugged one of the rolls from under your arm without a word. You didn’t stop him. Your fingers brushed his in the exchange, and your pulse jumped. The bus rolled up, brakes squealing slightly, and the two of you climbed on. You found a mostly empty seat toward the back and sank into it with a small sigh. The paper was bulky, and created a barrier between your legs and his. Still, your shoulders brushed. He didn’t move away. The ride started in silence. You were about to reach for your phone when Sunghoon spoke, voice quieter than usual. “I’m not skating well,” he said. You looked up, surprised at the sudden honesty. “What do you mean?” “I don’t know what happened. Two weeks ago, everything worked perfectly. I almost got a perfect score. And now it’s like my body forgot how to do everything. Every run-through ends with me on the ice. It’s… embarrassing.” You frowned, brows drawing together. “You think it was just luck that day?”

He gave a soft laugh, more bitter than amused. “Maybe. I don't know. I was really stressed in the weeks leading up to it. You know, with the party and everything. I was kinda busy worrying about you and didn't really worry about the nationals that much."

You didn’t answer right away. The bus rumbled around you. A neon sign from a passing corner shop spilled red light across the floor.

Your hands were resting in your lap. You stared at your fingers for a second.

You hadn��t hidden it. Not really. The skipped dinners, your barely touched plates. You knew you weren’t subtle.

You just didn’t know it had sat with him like that. 

“I’m not saying that to guilt you.” He leaned his head back against the bus window, sighing. “You’re doing amazing. You've put those monkey stickers on the calendar every day for almost two weeks. Sometimes even two.”

You ducked your head, shy under the praise. “They’re cute. And I like making people proud.”

“You are,” he said softly. “I am.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you just nodded.

“Two weeks ago,” you said quietly. “At the nationals. You were incredible. You had so much fun.”

Sunghoon turned to look at you then. His eyes were soft. Tired.

And maybe a little surprised.

“I don’t know how I did that,” he admitted. “And now I’m not sure I can do it again.”

You hesitated. Then, a little nervously:

“Do you… still worry? About me?”

There was no pause in his answer.

“Yeah.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure how to carry the strange warmth that bloomed under your skin. 

You wanted to reach out and touch his hand. Or maybe say thank you. Or maybe… both.

A few moments passed in silence before you felt his head tilt, his chin gently resting on the top of your head.

You froze for a heartbeat.

Then slowly, shyly, you let yourself lean into his side.

Just a little.

The bus bumped along, and the rolls of paper rolled slightly against your knees.

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured. “Eventually.”

“You will,” you whispered back. “But you don’t have to be right away.”

His hand brushed against yours for a second.

And neither of you moved away.

────────────────────── Your keys clinked softly as you unlocked the apartment door. The hallway light flickered to life, casting a warm, golden hue across the wooden floor. You slipped off your shoes, turning to look at Sunghoon, who was still moving slower than usual, dropping his bag by the door with a sigh.

You hesitated.

“…Are you hungry?” you asked gently.

He looked up at you with that unreadable expression of his. Not annoyed. Just...thinking.

Then he tilted his head. “Did you eat enough for a monkey?”

You blinked, caught off guard and then let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “No.”

He didn’t scold you, “Then… unspicy dakgalbi? From the place I always drag the guys to?”

Your eyes lit up immediately. “Oh? The one we ordered from a few weeks ago?”

He nodded. “They do extra cheese now.”

Your stomach actually rumbled a little at that.

Fifteen minutes later, you were both perched on either side of the low sofa table. You sat cross-legged at the low table, sketchbook to your right.

Sunghoon was on the other side of the table, sleeves pushed up, his hair still damp from his shower. He passed you the tongs wordlessly, letting you serve yourself first. The cheese pulled in stretchy, stringy lines between the chicken pieces.

You quietly divided things up. One bowl for you. One for him.

When you finished cleaning the living room, you placed a sticker onto the calendar and held it up toward him with a tiny smile. You’d already picked out the sticker for tonight, a little orange cat holding a rice ball. 

“Tada!”

He squinted at the calendar and took a step closer, “The cat is cute. I am proud of you, Y/N. Look, even your little kitty is proud of you for eating so well.”

You laughed, cheeks a little warm.

The two of you returned to the living room. You had your legs tucked underneath you on the floor, one of the giant papers resting across the coffee table. The living room was dim except for the glow of the TV. The new drama you both half-followed played in the background. You had your pencil in one hand, your sleeve bunched in the other as you leaned over the page.

You didn’t even realize how quiet it had gotten until you looked up and found Sunghoon stretched out on the couch. One arm tucked under his head, hoodie soft and rumpled. His other hand rested over his stomach, rising and falling with each breath.

He wasn’t watching the drama. He was watching you.

You immediately felt the heat rise in your face.

“What?” you asked, trying not to smile.

He looked away quickly. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

He didn’t argue.

You shook your head and looked back at your sketch. But your heart was still doing something weird. Something soft and fast at the same time.

You didn’t say anything else. Neither did he.

You weren’t sure when Sunghoon stopped watching the drama and started watching you again but you noticed when his eyes started slipping shut, his head slowly lolling to the side against the arm of the couch.

He insisted on keeping you company while you worked. 

Which, apparently, meant curling up on the couch behind you, one arm flung over a pillow like a makeshift hug, and promptly dozing off halfway through episode two.

Your pencil slipped from your hand somewhere around 3:30 a.m..Your first sketch was about 3/4 done, but your eyes were getting too heavy to shade anything right now. You stretched your legs out slowly, bones creaking, spine stiff from being hunched over the coffee table for hours and looked over your shoulder.

Sunghoon was still out cold. His hoodie had ridden up just slightly, revealing a sliver of his lower back. His mouth was parted in the tiniest way. 

You tried not to laugh as you reached over and touched his shoulder gently.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered.

He groaned.

“Sunghoon,” you said again, a little softer.

His eyes cracked open, all bleary and confused. “Huh.”

“You fell asleep.”

He made a tiny noise of protest and flopped further into the couch. “You’re loud.”

You laughed. “C’mon. Go to bed.”

He mumbled something unintelligible, then blinked blearily at you. “You wanna sleep in my room tonight?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You said… before.” He rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand. “That you sleep better when someone’s there.”

You stared at him for a second. Something in your chest tugged, a quiet, strange warmth.

“I did say that,” you murmured. “Do you?”

He stilled. For a breath. Then said quietly, “Yeah.”

You nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

The apartment was cold outside the blanket nest you’d built on the couch and on the floor, but his room was warm, dim with only the soft glow of his lamp in the corner. You slipped into his bed first, still in your hoodie and sweats, pulling the covers up as he turned off the hallway light and climbed in beside you.

You didn’t even think about where to lie. You just curled toward the same place you always seemed to find: his side, just beneath his collarbone, right over his heartbeat.

His arm came around you automatically.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything.

Then he whispered into your hair, voice rough with sleep, “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.”

You let out a breath. “Me too.”

Another beat.

“…Also. I’m never letting you work until 3:30 again.”

You smiled into his hoodie. “I don’t really think that’s possible.”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, already asleep again. 

His breath, steady and warm, brushed over the crown of your head every few seconds in a lazy rise and fall.

After a few minutes you noticed a sound. 

Soft. Rhythmic. Not loud, but steady enough to be unmistakable.

Sunghoon was snoring.

Just lightly.

You didn’t move. Didn’t dare to.

And then – there it was again.

The faintest little snore. You stifled a smile into his hoodie.

You shifted a tiny bit, just enough to glance up at him.

His mouth was parted slightly, lashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks. He looked so different asleep. Softer. Younger, somehow.

You reached up slowly, brushed his hair off his forehead. He didn’t stir.

And then, quietly, you whispered, “Thank you.”

For the food. For the stickers. For staying up with you. For holding you like this.

The snore came again. You almost laughed.

────────────────────── At around 15 o’clock, they called his name for warm-ups, and he felt like walking toward a storm he couldn’t stop. He spent almost 5 hours in the rink at this point, watching other people skate and perform on a level that was Olympic.

Sunghoon knew.

The moment his skates hit the ice, he knew.

This wasn’t going to work.

His legs were already too tight. His lungs didn’t feel like they had room.

He ran through the motions anyway.

Went through the warm-up. 

But with every movement, he felt it tightening. His chest, his hands, the panic he’d been choking down for days.

When they called him out for his actual performance, he wasn’t even nervous anymore. Just…numb.

The music started. He pushed off.

And he fell.

Not dramatically. Just a slip, a wrong edge on a spin he could do blindfolded most days. His shoulder kissed the ice, and the sting of it went all the way to his ribs.

He got up.

He always got up.

But the rest of the routine blurred. He didn’t even know what he was doing by the end, only that he’d finished.

Bowed.

Skated off.

Not once did he look toward the seats.

Not once did he meet the eyes of his coach or the team watching from the tunnel.

He ripped off his gloves the moment the door to the rink closed behind him. Tugged at the zipper of his costume like it was suffocating him. Stormed past the lockers, past the benches, up into the viewer area.

You were sitting on a seat near the middle of the bleachers, your laptop balanced on your thighs, fingers curled gently around the stylus as you focused on the screen. Your hair was braided now.

Something about it made his throat go tight.

And then you looked up.

You didn’t ask if he was okay. You didn’t say anything right away. You just stood up and stepped in his direction.

Sunghoon didn’t even stop to think. His arms wrapped around you before any thought even formed. Tight and desperate.

He felt the first sting of tears when your hand touched the back of his neck. Your hands slid up his back and into his hair.

“I messed up,” he choked out. His throat felt like it was closing. “I knew I would. The second I stepped out. I just—”

“You looked beautiful,” you whispered, voice soft by his ear. “I’m proud of you for trying.”

His chest lurched.

“For going out there. Even if you knew.”

That broke a little sob out of him, and he buried his face in your hair.

You didn’t say ‘You never know what the judges think’ or ‘You weren’t that bad’.

You just held him.

“Thanks,” he whispered, lips brushing your hairline.

He stood there with you for a while, forehead resting against your shoulder, your hand moving slowly over the back of his costume–up, then down, and up again. 

Eventually, he stepped back. Not far. Just enough to breathe.

“Do you wanna leave?” you asked gently.

He nodded, jaw clenched. His mouth was too dry to speak.

You packed up without another word, slipping your laptop into your tote and looping your jacket over your arm. You didn’t ask if he wanted to drive. You just walked beside him back to the car, shoulders almost brushing, quiet like you understood there wasn’t anything to say.

The drive started in silence.

He didn’t turn on the radio.

You didn’t try to fill the space.

But a little ways down the highway, you cracked the window open and let the breeze in. And then you kicked off your shoes and curled your feet up on the seat, twisting to face him slightly.

“Do you want a candy? I still have to eat some to earn a kitty. I have watermelon, apple, that weird Chinese one with the rabbit from Renjun or strawberry?” you asked.

He glanced at you, brows tugged together.

You were holding out a box filled with different-sized and colored candies.

He blinked. “Weird Chinese rabbit ones? That’s… weirdly specific.”

You gave him a small shrug. “It’s sweet. I figured you might need something nice.”

He took a piece.

It helped a little. Especially when he saw that you ate three pieces. 

After a while, you shifted again.

Your voice was quieter now. “I wish I could do something. I know I can’t fix it, but…”

“You being there helped,” he said, staring at the road ahead. “A lot.”

You were quiet for a beat.

“You know, if you don’t want to be alone tonight… you could crash in my room.”

He turned his head slightly, trying to read your expression. You looked a little shy, like you weren’t sure if you were overstepping.

“It’s just… it feels better with someone there,” you added. “You said that too, right?”

His chest tightened, but not in a bad way this time.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I did.”

You nodded. Then leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes.

He didn’t know if you were actually sleeping, but he let you rest anyway. He kept his eyes on the road and didn’t say anything else.

────────────────────── Sunghoon heard the faint clatter of a pan as he stepped out of the shower, towel still clutched around his hair. He padded down the hallway barefoot, his limbs heavy from the day, and found you in the kitchen, barefoot too, stirring something in a pan.

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him. “I’m making egg rice,” you said, voice still soft. “There were leftovers. And I put in a ridiculous amount of oil, I am sorry.”

He nodded, throat tight again. “Smells good.” You plated up the food and passed him a bowl. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the first bite. The table was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Your foot bumped his once, then again, and instead of pulling back, you let it rest lightly against his.  Afterward, he watched you shuffle to the fridge, humming faintly as you peeled the backing off another little sticker. This one was a cat with a sleepy face. You smoothed it onto the day’s square on your meal calendar and painted a pair of ice skates next to it. Sometimes, if something special happened, you drew a small doodle next to the date. He didn’t feel like today deserved a doodle.  Sunghoon swallowed.  You smiled faintly to yourself, then turned toward him. “I’ll brush my teeth first.”

By the time he joined you in your room, the lights were low and the sheets were already pulled back. You scooted over without a word, like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

He laid down beside you, on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow.

For a while, you didn’t talk.

Then he spoke, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know what to do now.”

You shifted slightly, not away but towards him.

He stared at the ceiling. “The Olympics... that was always the goal. Since I was a kid. Everything’s been about that. Every second I didn’t spend skating, I spent thinking about skating. And now…” His voice faltered. “Now I’m just—I don’t know who I am if I’m not trying to get there.”

He felt you look at him before you said anything.

“You know,” you said, soft and slow, “you’re still young. There are so many other things to achieve. This isn’t the end.”

He let the words settle between you, watching shadows play across the ceiling.

“There’ll be another Olympics,” you continued, “another try. And even if not… there’s always something else, right? Something new. I think–I think that’s the part no one tells you when you’re a kid. How your dreams can change.”

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, not quite a laugh. “Yeah. They always made it sound like it’s one dream, one shot. Do or die.”

“But it’s not,” you whispered. “It doesn’t have to be.”

He turned his head to look at you, even though the room was too dark to see your face clearly. “What did you want to be? When you were a kid?”

You were quiet for a second, like the question caught you off guard. Then you chuckled softly. “Van Gogh. I used to think I’d become the next Van Gogh and travel the world to paint.”

He smiled. “That’s adorable. But I think Picasso would be more fitting for you, Y/Ncasso.”

“Shut up.” You nudged his foot under the blanket. “What about you? Always skating?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Since I was like five. I saw Yuzuru Hanyu win gold and thought he was magic. I wanted to be that.”

You shifted closer slightly, and he felt your breath against his neck.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be magic,” you said. “Just… enough.”

Something about the way you said it tugged at him. He turned his body toward you now, propping his head up just a bit on his arm.

“You are,” he said.

You went quiet again. 

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asked, voice soft, unsure if you wanted to keep on talking.

You were quiet for another beat, then you hummed. “Sometimes. Not often. It feels kind of… scary.”

He nodded slowly, even though you couldn’t see it.

“I always imagined mine very clearly,” he said. “Even when I was a kid. I’d make it big in skating, maybe get to coach later. Have a place near a the olympia park. A dog, or two. A supportive wife, who loves me. Whom i love back. And maybe… a daughter. I don’t know why, but I always pictured a daughter.”

He let out a small laugh, a little embarrassed by how much he was sharing. “Someone tiny who’d sit on my shoulders and call me her favorite person.”

Your silence stretched for a little too long. He turned his head.

When you did speak, your voice was quiet. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever have that.”

Sunghoon’s chest tightened.

“Why?” he asked gently.

“I just… don’t think that’s in the cards for me. A family. Love like that.”

He wanted to say something immediately, but he waited. Let you say what you needed.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” you continued, not quite looking at him. “Not because I don’t want love,” you added quickly. “I do. I just… I think I’ll disappoint him."

His fingers curled slightly in the sheets.

“Sometimes I wonder,” you whispered, “if I’m just not enough.”

The words knocked the air out of him.

He sat up a little, his voice low but fierce. “Don’t say that.”

You blinked, surprised at the sudden shift in his tone.

“You are,” he said. “You’re more than enough.”

You looked away, eyes shining faintly in the darkness.

“I don’t want to be someone’s burden. When I relapse. When I can’t eat again or when I start hating myself again. I don’t want anyone to have to deal with that.”

Sunghoon felt the breath catch in his throat. His fingers flexed slightly against the sheets.

“Don’t say that,” he said, gently but firmly. “You’re not a burden.”

You let out a shaky breath. “But I could be.”

“No,” he said again. “You could have bad days. Weeks. That’s not the same thing.”

You didn’t answer.

Sunghoon pushed up a little more, his face now just inches from yours, even in the dark.

“If someone really loves you… he’ll stay. He’ll help you when things get hard. Especially when things get hard.”

He reached for your hand without thinking. 

“I don’t want to ruin someone’s life,” you whispered.

“You won’t.” His voice cracked slightly. “You’ll be part of it. And the right person will be lucky to have you in it.”

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing his fingers just once.

“You say that so easily.”

“I say it because it’s true.”

You didn’t speak after that. You just shifted closer, close enough that your foreheads nearly touched, close enough that he could feel the way your fingers curled slightly toward his.

He stayed awake for a while after that, listening to your breathing. Thinking about love. About disappointment. About the way you looked at him today like he hadn’t failed.

────────────────────── You saw the light pour through the tall windows of the studio, casting soft, slanted shadows across your desk. Someone’s model fell with a quiet clatter in the background. 

You saw your hands working, but your thoughts were still with Sunghoon.

It has been a few days since the tryouts. Sunghoon and you had been sleeping either in your or in his bed. Just to comfort each other. 

The step up in calories was hard. The bigger portions made your stomach upset, no matter what you ate and he was feeling a bit down. He didn’t go to the rink, instead coming home or to the studio, when you stayed longer. He and Renjun were getting along really well. 

You had to think about the softness in his voice when he talked about the future – about his daughter, his dogs, his house. The way he had said  he wanted a wife who he could love and who loved him like it was a given he would find someone like that. Like someone could love him so honestly, and he’d love them back just as deeply. You really believed that he would find such a girl. He deserved to be loved. Deeply. 

You remembered the way his fingers had curled around yours under the blanket.

You’re more than enough.

You saw the way he looked at you when he said it. Like he meant it.

You thought about how he stayed, even when it got bad.

You thought about how he asked if you’d eaten.

How he quietly cooked two portions when you hadn’t. How he let you talk when you needed to, and sat beside you when you couldn’t find the words.

Wasn’t that… what love was supposed to look like?

You didn’t know. You weren’t sure you ever would.

But if you ever let someone love you–really love you–you hoped Sunghoon was right. That they’d stay. That they’d hold on through the bad days. That you wouldn’t just become some slow-motion heartbreak in someone else's story.

Because right now… it almost felt like he was already doing it. Loving you in all the ways you didn’t know how to ask for, that you didn’t know how to give back.

And that thought made it hard to breathe in the best, scariest kind of way.

Your professor’s voice cut through the air.

“I hate to do this,” he said, and you already knew it was going to be bad, “but due to scheduling conflicts, the deadline for your final submissions has been moved up.”

You blinked.

“To next week.”

A collective groan spread across the room.. Someone cursed.

You looked around. Every table was covered in half-finished foam models, scattered tools, and messy sketches, yours included. No one was ready. Not really.

Your heart dropped, just a little.

You saw your own model–barely halfway there. The pieces didn’t fit right yet. Some parts still needed refining, carving, painting.

It wasn’t impossible. Not quite. You could stay all weekend. Pull a few all-nighters. If you mapped it out just right, you might be able to pull it off. You would have to bring your stuff back to your apartment, take over the kitchen for a few days. 

Your stomach sank anyway.

Because now you’d be tired. Because now dinner would be rushed. Because now the quiet bubble of comfort you’d made with Sunghoon would pop, even if just for a while.

You exhaled through your nose and refocused your attention. Grabbed your pencil. Sketched out the next adjustment.

You could still do this.

Sunghoon was making curry tonight.

You’d get your stupid kitty sticker and then draw a sad smiley next to it. 

────────────────────── Sunghoon saw you before he even heard the door shut.

You came in looking like a zombie. Bags digging into your shoulders, a roll of foam sticking out under one arm, your jacket halfway falling off, and your model clutched precariously in your hand. 

The look on your face said enough. 

He column’t remember seeing you like this, ever. He has seen many different facial expressions on you but he has never seen this one. Your mouth was tight and there was a crease in between your eyes. 

He stepped away from the stove. “Hey- wait, I’ll help- ”

“It’s okay,” you said, breathless, dropping your things by the shoe rack and then pressing a hand to your forehead. “My deadline’s been moved up. Again. A week earlier.”

He blinked. “Oh, shit.”

“Yup.” You weren’t even angry about it. Just exhausted. You gave him a fleeting smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’ll be out in a sec, just need to… change into not jeans. Or something.”

Then you disappeared into your room.

Sunghoon finished setting the table. Curry, rice, the salad you liked lately. Two bowls. Two glasses of water. The usual. He waited a few minutes. Then a few more.

You didn’t come out.

He stood up and made his way to your door, the polaroid of you with your name under it mirroring the one of him on his door. He knocked, gently. “Y/N? Food’s ready.”

You opened the door a minute later with the same drawn expression, hair tied up in a messy knot. You slid into your chair across from him and mumbled a quiet “thanks.”

But you didn’t eat.

Sunghoon watched you poke at the rice. Push the curry around. You were quiet so he started talking and told you about how Jay and Heeseung were invited to a gala for the new recruits of their teams and how they were panicking today. You barely reacted and only chuckled.

When he stood to clear the dishes, you looked up.

“Oh,” you murmured. “I’m so sorry- would you mind cleaning? I swear I’ll do it next week, I just-” You gestured vaguely toward your room, then vanished again before he could even nod.

Sunghoon blinked. “Okay…?”

He collected the bowls. Yours was still full.

His eyes flicked to the calendar. 

No sticker. 

You didn’t get out the sheet with the kitten and glued one onto it.

That was the first night in over two weeks there wasn’t one.

You didn’t eat. Not really. 

You also didn’t stop to get a snack from the fridge either. Usually you would eat a yogurt with berries after dinner. Not immediately after but you did prepare it immediately after. 

He washed up slowly, trying not to overthink it. But failed to do so. A part of him told himself you were tired. That it was just one night. But another part reminded him of the way your voice sounded when you were trying not to worry him.

Just tired.

That’s what you always said when you didn’t feel like eating before.

Hours passed. He showered. Got the laundry and folded his clothes. Worked on one of his essays. Brushed his teeth. 

At 11:42 p.m., he knocked on your door again holding a bowl with yogurt and mangos, voice muffled slightly through the wood.

“Y/N? Do you want a joghurt?”

No answer for a second. Then, softly, “Not really. Thank you though.”

He opened the door anyway.

You were sitting cross-legged in front of your bed on the floor, the model in front. In your right hand was a cutter and the other hand was holding a ruler, but they weren’t moving. They were just floating a few centimeters over the styrofoam. 

He walked over without a word and sat next to you. Your shoulder brushed his and you relaxed a bit. Letting your hands rest in your lap and looking at the small bowl Sunghoon was holding.

Then your head rested on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” you said eventually. But your voice cracked a little at the end. “Just tired.”

Sunghoon nodded. 

Then he leaned closer and spoke gently. “Let’s eat something, mhm?”

You didn’t answer.

So he pulled you up.

Your hand slid into his. He held it without needing to say anything else.

He sat you down at the table, went to the fridge, and reheated a bowl of curry and rice in the microwave. It was a smaller portion that you were supposed to eat, but he figured you probably couldn’t really eat much. So he made sure there was at least something in your stomach. When he set the bowl and spoon in front of you, you glanced at it with tired eyes, then picked up the spoon.

You didn’t say anything. Just started eating slowly.

When you were halfway through the bowl, he asked, just as softly as before:

“Do you think you earned a kitty today?”

You paused mid-bite. The spoon hovered for a moment before you set it down gently. You didn’t look at him. You just shook your head once, small and quiet.

His chest tightened. It hurt to see you like this. 

You weren’t crying but you looked so upset.

But you were eating. Slowly. And he could work with that.

He just nodded his head a little and sat with you while you finished your bowl. 

Afterward, you helped rinse the plate. Even dried it. And then you returned to your room after muttering a “Thank you Sunghoon.”

He just smiled and watched you retreat into your room. Only to follow you a few seconds later. By the time he reached your door you were already sitting on the floor again. Sunghoon walked over quietly and crouched down beside you. His eyes scanned the mess of paper, foam board, tape, notes scribbled in pencil. Then he looked at you. 

“I’ll help you,” he said.

He grabbed the extra cutting board from the shelf under your table and started slicing the leftover foam you hadn’t touched yet into 1,3 cm thick stripes, like you told him. Sometimes you asked him to hold down corners for you when they curled up. 

By the time the clock on his phone read 3:47 AM, your hands had slowed down significantly.

The model looked more like a fancy opera now. 

He glanced at you.

You were blinking slowly, mouth slightly parted in a yawn.

“You should sleep,” he said softly.

You didn’t argue this time. “I should.”

He stood, offering his hand. You took it. Wobbled a little on your feet.

“Let’s sleep in my bed,” he hummed.

You mumbled something like “okay” and shuffled into the bathroom.

Sunghoon turned off the lights, checked the stove, and brushed the foam dust from his sweatpants. 

When he reached his room he stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the sight of you curled into his bed, on what has become your side. 

It looked like you’d been here for hours, even though it had only been minutes. The quietness in the room, the soft rhythm of your breath under the covers, made his chest feel tight again. Not from worry this time, but from something much warmer. 

He closed the door quietly behind him and tiptoed over to the bed. He didn’t want to wake you in case you fell asleep in the three minutes you were lying in his bed.

Sunghoon slowly climbed into the bed, sliding under the covers and shifting closer to you. 

Then, before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair from your face. You barely stirred, but a tiny little sigh slipped from your lips, and he smiled to himself.

“You good?” he whispered, careful not to startle you.

You mumbled something incoherent but soft, and adjusted your head to put it onto his chest.

Sunghoon chuckled quietly, not knowing what to say next. So, he just snuggled into his pillow.

────────────────────── You blinked awake slowly, the dull gray light of morning filtering through the blinds in Sunghoons room. Usually sleeping in the same bed as Sunghoon meant that you were sweating in the morning, but today you were feeling a bit cold. Your hand reached across the bed where Sunghoon should have been instinctively.

His side of the bed was no longer warm. You hand brushed over the soft duvet cover. 

It was strange, wasn’t it?

Feeling that someone was missing after waking up alone was not a thing you usually did. 

You know people complain about it, when their lovers slip out of the bed too early, leaving them alone in their shared bed. 

But Sunghoon wasn’t your lover. 

So why did it feel like that?

You sat up slowly, brushing hair from your face, the blanket slipped down your shoulders. It wasn’t like he disappeared. He was probably brushing his teeth or something. You dragged yourself out of bed, bare feet padding lightly against the floor.

The moment you cracked open your door, you were engulfed in a sweet smell. And a slightly burned smell.

You frowned, blinking toward the hallway, and then made your way into the kitchen.

Sunghoon was standing in front of the stove. His hair was standing up in different directions, the bleach damaged it enough to not fall softly unless he used the right hair care products. 

He was holding up a spatula and his phone at the same time, frowning at something on his phone. 

You leaned against the doorframe to the connected kitchen and living room, eyes flickering over the kitchen.

Your model was laying on the kitchen table. All of the tools and scraps and papers that were spread around on the floor in your room had been organized neatly on the table. Your laptop was charging on the kitchen island. Your pens lined up in a little row.

“Good morning Sunghoon”, you greeted him, your voice still rough from disuse.

You couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips when he turned around and you noticed the apron he had hanging around his front. He looked cute.

He turned around, startled, and blinked. “ Y/N. Morning.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you making pancakes?”

“They were supposed to be,” he said, flipping one that was definitely more black than brown. “You didn’t eat enough yesterday. So I’m bribing you.”

You walked forward, your feet freezing when you reached the tiled kitchen floor. “Bribing me with... questionable pancakes?”

“They’re not questionable,” he said. “They’re just... well-loved by the stove.”

You laughed softly and slipped into a chair at the table. The sight of your model, a little lopsided now that you weren’t looking at it in sleep-deprived haze, made your chest ache a bit again.

“Thank you Sunghoon.”, you said after a beat of silence. “For everything. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for everything you are doing.” 

He turned around, a soft smile adorning his lips. Your chest flustered a bit at the sight. “Always, Y/N. If you ever need help I’ll always be there to help. No matter if its slightly burned pancakes or your weird opera thing we are building together.”

Your eyes stung a bit and you had to break eye contact with him to not start crying.

He turned back around and cleared his voice slightly. “The others are coming over later. They want to help.” 

Your head lifted, a frown already forming between your brows. “Help? With the opera?”

He glanced over from the stove, eyebrows raised like he knew this reaction was coming. “Yeah.”

You blinked at him. “But… why? I didn’t–.”

Sunghoon flipped a pancake gently. “You don’t have to. They just want to do something. Jay, Jake, Heeseung… they all felt a little responsible. About the party. And everything after.”

You were quiet for a long moment. 

Somehow you felt touched. Really touched, in a way that made your throat tighten. And also a little ashamed.

How did you manage to be a burden to someone you barely knew. Why would they worry about you? Yes they invited you, but it wasn’t their fault it escalated like that. So why were they feeling bad about it. 

“I didn’t mean to make anyone worry,” you said softly.

Sunghoon turned again, his hands still holding the spatula. “I know you didn’t. But it’s okay if people care about you anyway.”

You looked away quickly, chest tight. “That doesn’t mean they should have to fix anything. Or help. I was just… not okay for a while. It’s not their problem.”

“They’re not trying to fix anything,” he said gently. “They just want to help now. In any way they can. If that means spending the afternoon cutting foam and toothpicks, that’s what they’ll do. Also—” he turned back to the stove with a quiet laugh, “—they think you’re cute.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

He hummed. “I quote: Sunghoon your roommate is so cute, I swear i want to put her in my pocket. Quote end.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips, even if your face was burning. “Oh my god, who said that?”

Sunghoon just grinned and plated the last pancake. “Jake. He said you were so cute when we went to the nationals. You felt so bad for everyone that just looked minimalistically sad after getting off the ice. He wanted to pet your head.”

“Oh my god.”, you buried your face in your hands.

He placed the plate between you both on the kitchen counter, grabbing the Nutella with one hand and a butter knife with the other. “Sorry they’re not perfect,” he murmured. “Kind of questionable in terms of color.”

You stood up and walked over to the counter, a soft smile playing on your lips. “They’re not questionable. They’re just… well-loved by the stove.”

That earned you a quiet laugh, low and warm. He drizzled more Nutella on top, spreading it with way more care than necessary. “Alright. Chocolate makes everything better. Maybe we won’t taste the love too much with the Nutella on top.”

You picked up your fork, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder. The pancakes were a little uneven, a bit too crisp at the edges.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything when you slowed down halfway through. He just offered you another bite every now and then, and when you accepted, he smiled without a word.

“I really mean it,” you whispered after a while, when the plate was nearly empty. “Thank you, Sunghoon.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression soft and unreadable. Then he said, quietly, “You don’t have to thank me. Just… let me stay. Let me help.”

Your eyes stung again. You glanced toward your model on the table and back to your plate. 

You didn’t know why he did all of this for you. You didn’t think you deserved it.

But it made your chest ache in the kindest way.

────────────────────── You and Sunghoon sat shoulder to shoulder at the table half an hour later. He passed you a glue stick without needing to be asked, and you handed him the little foam piece he’d marked earlier.

You were listening to a podcast, the only sound in the kitchen being the hosts voices and sounds of paper being cut. There were flecks of foam on his sleeve and your hair. Your knees bumped under the table more than once. 

You were just finishing the reinforcements on the roof when Sunghoon finished assembling the first tiny tree for your landscaping section. He looked more proud of it than he had of his last competition medal at the nationals.

“That’s actually so cute,” you murmured, leaning over to inspect it.

“Thank you,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I'm naming it Gerald.”

You snorted. “Gerald looks very sturdy.”

Just as you repositioned the front wall, the doorbell rang.

You straightened, wiping your fingers on your pajama pants and giving Sunghoon a quick glance.

“That’s them,” he said, already heading to the door.

A moment later, you heard the greet Sunghoon and Jake walked into the kitchen holding up a tray of drinks from the cafe on the campus and a bag of baked goods. “Y/N! Good morning! We bought coffee and tea and those weird cookie croissants! ”

You stood a little awkwardly in the kitchen, unsure what to say. 

“Hi,” you said quietly, wringing your hands together. “Um… thank you for coming and the food. You really didn’t have to. I… I’m really sorry if—”

Jay cut you off with a wave of his hand, already moving toward the table where your model was set up. “Don’t apologize. We are here because we want to be..”

“Yeah,” Heeseung added, grinning as he peeked at the foam trees Sunghoon had started earlier. “This is fun. It’s like arts and crafts.”

Jay slung his hoodie over a chair and raised an eyebrow at you. “So. Where do we start?”

You stared at them for a second, something soft and confused blooming in your chest.

Sunghoon brushed past you, placing a gentle hand on your back as he nudged you back to your chair in front of the model. “We’ll show you. I can make banger trees but I need like 20 more and someone has to help me do that.”

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”, Jake said and dropped into the chair next to you.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and nodded, pulling out the extra materials you’d prepared earlier. “Okay. Um—Jay, can you help with the glueing? It’s a bit tricky, you have to hold the pieces for a few seconds until they set. You spray this stuff on, to like kinda immediately harden the glue. Someone has to cut the foil? I don’t know if i want to use it yet tho, we will have to try around a bit and-”

They listened to your explanations with surprising focus. Sunghoon switched the background noise from your true crime podcast you'd both barely been listening to, to a soft, upbeat playlist.

They started talking about something trivial but after a few minutes someone started complaining about the last match they played and they have been explaining the rules of ice hockey to you for the last fifteen minutes. 

“So basically you can crash into someone just because you feel like it and it’s okay?”, you asked, handing Sunghoon another strip of foam to hold up. 

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Sometimes. You should have seen Soobin. He was our captain until he graduated last semester and one of the best defense players we ever had.”

“Oh. That’s crazy.”, you said, nodding at the way the edge you and Sunghoon had just glued together. 

“Yeah. Crazy if you want to have a fifty-fifty chance to get a concussion each time you go onto the ice.”, Sunghoon huffed. 

“Sunghoon, I’m just saying,” Jake was saying as he carefully pressed together two model walls, “if you ever joined a hockey game, you’d cry the second someone shoved you.”

“I’ve literally skated through a concussion before,” Sunghoon replied, unfazed. “Try doing triple jumps with whiplash.”

“Triple jumps,” Jay snorted. “That’s just jumping in the same spot but fancier.”

You looked up from the hot glue gun. “I do think figure skating is harder? I mean if all you do is try not to die because someone slams you into a wall?”

Sunghoon smirked quietly. 

Jake gasped like you’d betrayed them. “Y/N! We do more than a figure skater. I might not be able to touch my toes but I must let you know that we have to strategize and you know work as a team and react as a team. Quickly.” 

“I still think ice skating is more impressive. It looks very elegant.”, you hummed.

Jay chuckled. “I think we look very graceful in our uniforms. At least we don’t have to wear glitter while skating, right Elsa.”

“Fuck off Jay,” Sunghoon muttered.

“I’m ruggedly graceful and elegant,” Jake said.

You giggled, caught between amusement and slight awe. “So… do you guys always argue about which is better?”

“Absolutely,” Heeseung said, handing you a fresh strip of cut foam. 

“It’s not a competition,” Sunghoon said under his breath. “Not one they’d win anyway.”

“Oh my god,” Jay sighed.

Heeseung looked at you. “You could come to a match if you wanted to.”

You raised a brow. “And then what? Watch you get pushed around and then decide if I enjoy ice hockey or ice skating more?”

They all looked at each other like that was exactly the idea.

“If Sunghoon goes to the next one, I'll come along,” you said, quieter now.

You felt Sunghoon glance over at you, his fingers stilling for a second on the model.

“I really don't want to go alone,” you added, more softly this time.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. But when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you, eyes gentle, mouth tipped upward just enough to make your heart flutter.

“Okay,” he said, that same warmth in his voice he always got when talking just to you. “I’ll take you.”

────────────────────── An hour later Jay was standing in the kitchen chopping onions. He decided to cook steak and potatoes for the four of you, apparently craving it enough to spend half a fortune on meat. After a while the kitchen started to smell intensely like food. 

It didn’t smell bad,  but somehow your stomach was tightening up a bit at the smell. 

You glanced at the stove. 

“Jay?” you called gently.

He looked over immediately, knife still in hand.

“I think my stomach’s gonna hate me if I eat that much red meat,” you admitted, a little unsure. “I haven’t really had a lot of it lately.”

He blinked once, then shrugged. “Alright. Yours’ll be dry, no blood, as unred as possible. Would you like more potatoes instead?”

You stared at him for a second. “...Yeah. That’d be great. Thank you.”

“Gotchu,” he said simply, already turning back to the pan.

You sat back, feeling weirdly relieved. Just… okay, more potatoes it is.

Heeseung had taken over tree production by now and was giving each one increasingly ridiculous names, while Jake and Sunghoon were helping you with the decorative beams along the walls of the building. 

──────────────────────

When the other three left your apartment late in the afternoon your model was almost done. It was almost perfect and you had just a few things on your to do list to finish up. Which meant you could dedicate Sunday and Monday to drawing and working out the details. And get a healthy amount of sleep.  

The door clicked shut behind Heeseung, and the sudden quiet that followed felt strange. 

Sunghoon stretched and groaned when his back made a rather satisfying cracking 

You heard him plop down onto the sofa and turned around to a rather funny view. 

He had let himself drop over the backrest, one of his long legs was hooked over the backrest, along with one of his arms. The other arm was resting over his eyes and he groaned again: “Y/N I don’t get how you do this. My fingers hurt and my back feels like I sat for 80 years instead of 8 hours.” 

You laughed slightly. “I try to not work 8 hours in a row unusually but desperate situations demand drastic measures.” 

You hesitated for a second but stepped in front of the sofa. “I think I'm going to make a snack or something. You can nap and I’ll wake you when it’s done if you’d like?” Sunghoon just hummed and nodded.

So you padded slowly and quietly into the kitchen, rolling your shoulders out with a satisfying crack of your own before pulling open the fridge. There were still a few cherry tomatoes left, a cucumber, some bell pepper slices in a container from the day before, and the rest of the cream cheese dip Sunghoon liked. That would do.

You arranged it all with more care than you meant to, piling the sliced vegetables and a bit of fruit on a small plate and spooning a generous portion of the dip into a small bowl. When you were done, you stood in front of the calendar hanging on the fridge and carefully peeled one of the glossy cat stickers from the sheet. It was a grey tabby this time, curled up asleep. You pressed it down next to the date with a quiet smile.

You’d eaten today.

You’d eaten well today.

The steak had gone down with barely a protest from your stomach and stayed down. You weren’t quite sure how that had happened, but it had.

So you deserved your little cat sticker.

Sunghoon was still in the same ridiculous position when you came back. His mouth slightly open and he was snoring slightly. Completely wiped out from cutting and glueing some cardboard.

You didn’t want to wake him. So you set the plate carefully on the table in front of the sofa and sat cross-legged on the floor, your back resting against the bottom cushion. Your phone buzzed with a message from Johnny asking you how you were doing. You send him a selfie of you holding up a piece of bell pepper and sunghoons sleeping from behind you, telling him you had steak today. He replied with a selfie of Dukoo laying on his chest and Taeyong sleeping on his shoulder, his mouth wide open. You snickered quietly.

After a while you were bored by your phone, so you got up to get the book you were currently reading and your headphones from your room.

You were halfway through a chapter when fingers brushed through your hair. So light, so gentle, you almost thought you imagined it.

But then it happened again.

You turned your head slightly and looked up.

Sunghoon’s eyes had blinked open, still a little hazy with sleep. His hand was still resting lightly on the back of your head, tangled just barely in your hair, and when your eyes met, he didn’t pull it away.

He just gave you a tiny, sleepy smile and petted your hair again. 

A strand had come loose from your braid and he twirled it between his fingers.

You swallowed slowly, heart thudding louder than you liked. “You’re awake,” you said, barely a whisper.

He hummed, low in his chest, and his hand slipped a little lower, brushing behind your ear. “I felt you leave,” he murmured.

You didn’t move, fearing that he would stop playing with your hair if you did. 

“Did you eat?” he asked softly, finally glancing at the plate in front of you.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just-just vegetables and fruit.”

His eyes flicked back to you. “Enough so you could put a kitty on the calendar?”

You nodded again, slower this time. “Yeah.”

He sat up a bit more, leaning forward slightly so his knees nudged your back. His voice was even softer now. “I’m so proud of you.”

You turned toward him at that, just enough to see him clearly. He looked so warm, hoodie slightly bunched at the collar, hair tousled from sleep. 

You swallowed and whispered a quiet “Thank you, Sunghoon.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes again so you went back to reading.

You didn’t hear him sit up behind you.

But you felt it when the warmth of his body shifted closer. The sofa cushion gave in under his weight as he slid down to sit beside you on the floor.

Your breath caught, just for a second, when your shoulder touched his.

He reached for the remote and a second later, the TV lit up the room in a soft blue glow. He switched channels to find KBS.

You glanced up. Sunghoon was lazily chewing a piece of carrot, reaching for another from the small plate you’d left on the table. Without looking at you, he nudged it a little closer to your side, silently offering.

You shook your head, a small smile playing at your lips.

Sunghoon leaned back, propping one arm up behind him on the couch. And after a moment of hesitation you let yourself lean too. Your head found his shoulder, slow and soft, the way it always did now. His hoodie was warm, soft beneath your cheek, and smelled faintly like his perfume.

He didn’t move.

The low sound of the show played on. A laugh track. A bit of dialogue. But neither of you laughed. Neither of you spoke.

You felt him breathe.

You listened to the rhythm of it, right beneath your cheek.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

He shifted slightly, just barley. His head moved a bit and his temple brushed against your hair, his breath ghosting across your skin. You tilted your head instinctively, and suddenly you were looking at him.

He was already looking at you.

Your breath stuttered.

You froze.

You looked at his mouth before you could stop yourself.

Then back to his eyes.

And again.

Your chest pulled tight.

His lips were parted slightly.

He didn’t look away when your gaze wandered back to his eyes.

You couldn’t stop the flicker of panic that swelled in your chest.

You turned your head slightly, just slightly, without really thinking about it. Your nose grazed his cheek.

And then he turned his head too. Slowly. Gently. His temple brushing yours as he moved.

Your foreheads touched.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath.

You closed your eyes.

Just for a moment.

Trying to slow the pounding of your heart.

His fingers grazed your knee, just barely. You wanted to say something, to move, to...kiss him.

But your whole body locked up with nerves and want and a fear you couldn’t name.

So you didn’t.

You sat there.

Still.

Almost.

And then, after one long heartbeat, he leaned back the tiniest bit. Just enough for the space between you to widen again.

You opened your eyes.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did you.

──────────────────────

After the episode ended Sunghoon stood up, slow and silent, his fingers brushing the blanket beside you. You stayed still, heart still racing in your chest. 

“Should we...” he didn’t finish the sentence, but you knew what he meant. You nodded, your body slow to follow.

The quiet buzz of the TV filled the space between you as you both moved, soft-footed and wordless. He picked up the now-empty plate from the table. You turned off the lamp.

In the bathroom, you stood shoulder to shoulder while brushing your teeth. His elbow bumped yours lightly once, and you bumped him back, the corner of your lips curling around the toothbrush. You caught his eye in the mirror. He was winking at you.

His white hair almost reflected the harsh bathroom light, as it  softly fell over his eyes. The whole scene felt so domestic your heart was aching. 

You finished first. You washed your face and used the ridiculous amount of skin care products Sunoo insisted made your skin better. He gave you a lot of the stuff that didn't work for him and you were just accepting the free skincare.  

You lingered in the hallway for a second too long after brushing your teeth. The light behind you still hummed softly from the bathroom, casting your shadow long and thin across the floor. You expected Sunghoon to disappear into his room with a soft goodnight.

But he didn’t.

He paused in his doorway, hand resting lightly on the frame. Then he looked at you,not directly. His tired eyes flicked toward you. And then, with barely a movement, he tilted his head. A silent question without words.

You didn’t answer with words either.

You just followed.

Your steps were quiet as you crossed the space, the air between you charged in that gentle, quiet way. You slipped into his room, your hoodie sleeves tugged down over your hands. He let the door close behind you.

The room smelled distinctly like him.

He crawled into his bed, pulling the blanket back slowly as if giving you a moment to change your mind. But you didn’t. You slid in beside him, your shoulder brushing his briefly before you turned onto your side, facing the wall. 

You couldn’t handle sleeping on his chest today. Somehow the thought alone made your heart race. 

It shouldn’t. 

This was so wrong. 

Sunghoon was your roommate. 

During the episode of running man you had enough time to conclude that the racing of your heart and the desire to make him, especially him, proud was based on a crush. A very inappropriate crush on your very nice and hot and caring and sweet and attractive roommate.

A few seconds later, you felt the mattress shift behind you. He carefully adjusted behind you. Not touching you, but being close enough you felt the heat of his body though your hoodie.  

A quiet part of you ached just a little when he didn’t wrap himself around you, like he sometimes did on the sofa.

──────────────────────

You lay there for what felt like hours, eyes open in the quiet dark, watching the way the dim hallway light pooled faintly across the ceiling.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Your thoughts were running wild and you didn’t know what to do.

So you rolled over.

Carefully. Slowly.

You didn’t even fully realize what you were doing until you were halfway into the movement, your hand lightly brushing the comforter between you.

He didn’t move.

So you went further, tucking your head gently onto his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t wake up.

Still nothing.

Just the quiet sound of his breathing. And then, after a beat–his arm moved.

Not abruptly. But his hand came up in a slow, sleepy motion and started tracing a soft pattern against your back.

Your chest felt too tight for this much softness.

"Were you asleep?" you whispered.

He made a small noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh. "I was," he murmured. "But this is better."

You stayed quiet, listening to the rhythm of his breath and the way his fingers still traced your back, up and down, in lazy, tender lines.

After a long moment, he spoke again.

“I’m so glad I moved.”

Your throat tightened. You blinked at the ceiling.

“I’m glad you're here too,” you whispered. “But…”

You paused, already regretting saying anything. But you couldn’t stop. 

“But it must be kind of awful, right? Having to take care of me like this? We didn’t even know each other. I probably made everything way harder.”

His fingers stilled just for a second.

Then he exhaled, hand moving again. Slowly this time, his palm almost resting between your shoulder blades.

“Y/N,” he said, like he was saying your name to soothe you. “It’s not like that.”

You didn’t reply. 

You weren’t sure you could.

“I know it feels like you’re a burden sometimes,” he went on gently, “but I promise you-you're not. Not to me.”

You stared at the vague outline of his neck, blinking quickly. “I just… I don’t want to be someone people have to carry. I want to be someone people want around.”

He was quiet for a beat. You thought maybe he didn’t know how to respond.

But then his hand stopped moving entirely and slid around your back, anchoring you closer, just a little. Not too much. Just enough that your forehead nearly brushed his collarbone.

“I don’t feel like I’m carrying you,” he said. 

Your heart thudded so loudly you were sure he could feel it.

“I like being here,” he said. “I like helping with the model, and grocery shopping, and seeing you put stickers on the calendar. I like listening when you rant about your professor or whisper that you're tired. I like it when you fall asleep on the sofa next to me.”

His voice was steadier now, but still low. 

“I like it,” he said, “because it’s you.”

You blinked hard.

Your throat burned.

“But I haven’t even done anything for you,” you murmured. “Not really.”

He made a soft sound at that. “You really think that?”

You nodded a little. His shirt brushed your cheek. “I feel like I’m just… needing all the time. And you just give.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You’ve done more for me than you know.”

Your brows pulled together before you could stop them. “Like what?”

There was a pause. Not silence, not really, but a moment held so carefully you didn’t dare breathe.

“You made this place feel like home,” he said finally. “You make me laugh when I’ve had a bad day. You believe in me when I don’t believe in myself.”

The lump in your throat nearly doubled in size.

You couldn’t speak.

So you just… leaned in.

Laid your forehead against his chest, eyes burning, heart twisting.

He didn’t say anything after that. Neither did you.

But his arms pulled you in slowly. Gently.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, folded into the warmth of him, listening to his heartbeat and the way his breathing slowed. You could feel his hand resting lightly against your back, not moving anymore. Just there. Steady.

You should’ve tried to sleep. You should’ve just closed your eyes.

But instead, you felt your mouth part. 

“Sunghoon?” you whispered, barely audible.

His chest shifted with a breath. “Yeah?”

Your hand curled against the fabric of his shirt. “Can…can I kiss you?”

You weren’t looking at him. You couldn’t.

He was silent. Even his breathing had stopped. 

You instantly regretted asking.

You’d never kissed anyone. You didn't know how to do so. Asking was the most logical thing to your head. 

You could feel your whole body tense. “I’m sorry, I just—forget it, I don’t—”

He let out the softest sound. A breath that sounded like laughter, barely there, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just asked–but not in a mocking way. In a stunned, almost reverent kind of way.

Then he shifted.

You felt his hand move. He brushed your hair back, careful and slow. His fingers tucked the strands behind your ear, and his palm settled gently against your cheek.

When you finally looked up, he was already watching you.

Eyes soft. 

Warm. 

The corners crinkled in that way they always did when he smiled without really smiling.

His thumb brushed the curve of your cheekbone. “Yes,” he whispered. “Please.”

Your breath caught.

For a second, you forgot how to move.

And then, slowly and carefully, you leaned in.

You weren’t sure where to put your hands. Or how close you should get. Your heart felt like it might combust from the pressure alone. You tilted your head, eyes flicking to his lips and back to his eyes, over and over, waiting for some final confirmation.

And then, your lips touched.

It was soft.

Softer than you ever imagined it could be.

There were no fireworks in your chest. You didn’t feel any butterflies. Just warmth. Gentle warmth. The steady beat of your heart slowing for the first time all week. 

His lips moved slowly against yours, careful. Guiding, but not pushing. Letting you take the lead, letting you pull away whenever.

When you finally did, it was only by a few centimeters, and you stayed there. Your foreheads almost touching, your hand still pressed to his chest, his softly caressing your face.

Your cheeks were glowing. Your lips tingled. You couldn’t look at him.

“I didn’t… know it would feel like that,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Like what?”

You blinked, breathing softly. “Good? Right?”

And when he smiled this time, you could hear it in his voice.

“Yeah,” he said, thumb tracing the edge of your jaw. “Right.”

His forehead rested against yours, noses brushing.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. Breathing the same small pocket of air. His thumb brushed once over your cheekbone, then again, as if he couldn’t believe that you were here. That you had kissed him.

That you had wanted to.

And you had. Still did.

Your fingers flexed slightly in the fabric of his shirt. He shifted, just barely.

He pulled back only enough to look at you again.

Your face flushed under the weight of his gaze, but you didn’t turn away this time. You let him look. Let yourself be seen. Your chest ached in that strange, unfamiliar way—half-sweet, half-scary. The way it always does when something is too good and you’re not sure if you’re allowed to keep it.

But he just smiled.

So softly it made your breath catch.

And then, he leaned in again.

Slower this time.

His lips brushed yours so lightly.

You kissed him back.

His lips were soft and tasted like the mint toothpaste he used earlier.

When he pulled away this time, he stayed close.

His nose brushed yours. Your breath mingled. He whispered, barely audible, “I really like you.”

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t know what to say.

Your hand slid up, fingers resting over his heart. You felt it beating, fast and steady beneath your palm. 

You must’ve dozed off like that.

Curled into his chest, legs tangled gently under the covers, the heat of his skin lulling you deeper into calm with every slow breath.

When you stirred again, it was because he shifted a little, barely more than a sigh against your hair.

“Still awake?” His voice was quiet, hoarse with sleep.

You nodded against him. “Mmhm.”

He pulled you in a little closer, resting his chin carefully against the top of your head. “You’re warm,” he mumbled.

Your smile was tiny. “You’re comfy.”

A pause. Then, “You drool.”

You shoved at his chest with a muffled groan, and he let out a quiet laugh that vibrated through you.

“I do not,” you whispered indignantly.

“You do,” he whispered back, grinning. “But it’s okay. I’ve decided I’ll allow it.”

You went quiet again, pressing your nose into his hoodie and breathing him in. You wanted to say something–to tell him how unreal this felt, how scared you still were, how good it felt too. But the words got stuck somewhere behind your ribs.

Instead, your fingers curled against his side, and you whispered, “Thank you.”

He didn’t ask what for.

He just held you tighter.

Somewhere between his warmth and the comfort of the quiet, you felt your chest ease. 

He kissed your forehead a moment later and you just…melted a little. 

You would let yourself have this. Just this one perfect thing. 

This time, you were the one to whisper first. Just barely audible:

“I like you too.”

His hand stilled where it had been gently tracing over your spine. And then, he whispered, just above your ear:

“I know.”

You smiled again. 

This time, when your eyes closed, you didn’t fight it.

──────────────────────

Sunghoon woke up first, the quiet morning light spilling softly through the curtains. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he just lay there, completely still, taking in the sight of you. Your face was relaxed in peaceful sleep, your hair spread out over the pillow like a halo. He could feel your breath against his chest, slow and steady, and the weight of your body pressed against his side, warm and comforting.

He didn’t move. He didn’t want to.

Sunghoon could hardly believe what had happened the night before. Everything felt like a dream. 

He had somehow been waiting for this moment without even knowing it. 

His head replayed the moment. How you had been so close. How you asked him to kiss you and, how carefully, how gently, you had let him kiss you. And then you kissed him back.

Your breath hitched lightly in your sleep, and for a split second, he thought you might wake up, but you only shifted, pressing your cheek further into his chest.

He smiled to himself, unable to stop the soft warmth blooming in his chest. 

He wanted nothing more than to hold you like this forever, to keep you safe, to keep you with him.

His fingers lightly brushed the back of your neck, tracing the soft line of your skin. 

He glanced down at you, watching the rise and fall of your chest, listening to the peaceful rhythm of your breath. 

Sunghoon wanted to savor this, savor you, in the quiet morning light. He didn’t know what exactly this was yet, where it was going, but he also kinda didn’t care. 

He was just so glad that you were here. With him.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek softly. You were so beautiful, even in the quiet stillness of the morning, so perfect that it almost didn’t feel real. He just wished you could see that too. 

He remembered the night you had laid across his chest on the sofa the first time, your body was so close. He remembered feeling the soft dip of your ribs through your shirt. It wasn’t so bad anymore. The meal plan was working better than he had thought it would.

Your ribs weren’t as sharp now. You were still tired and freezing but it was getting so much better. Even your migraines seemed to lessen.

He was so proud of you, of how far you had come, even though he knew that there was still a long way to go. He just hoped you would let him be part of that, you would let him help until you didn’t need help anymore. 

Sunghoon had to fight the urge to wake you up, to kiss you again. To pull you even closer. But he decided to let you rest for a few more minutes, knowing that your alarm would ring at 10 am, like it always did on the weekend.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to wake up like this every day. Next to you, your head on his chest, your body curled into his. Of being able to kiss you stupid if he wanted to. 

You shifted. Your face was still soft with sleep but your eyes fluttered open. 

“Good morning,” he murmured gently, brushing his fingers over your hair, pushing a strand away from your forehead. He really loved your hair. “Do you want breakfast?” he asked softly.

You barely cracked one eye open and a sleepy hum escaped your lips as you nodded slightly in response, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Mm, yes.”

His heart melted at the sight. He had seen you wake up only a handful of times. Usually if the two of you slept in one bed together you were the first one to wake up. 

You sounded so out of it. 

“Alright,” he said, trying not to smile too much. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, feeling the softness of your hair beneath his lips. “I’ll get breakfast started then.”

But just as he started to move, you whimpered, the soft, almost pained sound stopping him in his tracks. He froze, unsure of what to do for a second, his heart skipping a beat.

“Stay...” you murmured, your voice low and drowsy, your body still nestled against the warmth of his chest.

He smiled, shaking his head lightly. “You need to eat, Y/N. I’ll be right back, I promise.” 

He didn’t want to be away from you, but he knew you needed to get up. You had to eat and probably start drawing whatever you still needed to draw for your assignment. 

You groaned in response, squinting your eyes closed again. But then, you slowly allowed him to shift away, the tiniest sigh escaping your lips. You looked at him for a moment, your gaze still clouded with sleep, before you gave him a lazy smile, still blinking away the sleep in your eyes.

“Okay…” you mumbled.

“Alright, I’ll be back soon,” he said softly, sliding out of bed. As he moved towards the kitchen, he couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder at you, still lying there, all tangled in the blankets.

He couldn’t help but smile.

──────────────────────

Sunghoon felt your presence behind him before he saw you. He heard the soft shuffle of footsteps behind him and paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder with a raised brow, not expecting you to follow so quickly. 

Before he could react, you pressed your body gently into his back, your face nestling against his shoulder blade. He froze for a moment, feeling your warmth against him, and a quiet laugh bubbled up from deep within his chest. 

He knew you were kinda clingy, when you liked someone. He had seen how you liked to be close to Mark, how you sometimes followed Sunoo or Renjun like a lost duckling in the hallways of the university and has had the pleasure of you somehow clinging to him as well. Coming to the kitchen to work in silence while he was cooking, sitting down on the sofa to watch whatever he was watching, even if he knew you weren't interested, cuddling on the sofa or one of your beds when one of you felt down. 

But it wasn’t like you to be so forward.

When he turned around to face you, he was met with your eyes, they were wide and a little uncertain, and that small, shy smile you always wore when you were feeling bashful. It made his heart soften even more.

His hand instinctively reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers grazing the softness of your skin.

"You okay?" His voice was low, a soft question, as he studied you, the tender expression on his face betraying his own racing thoughts.

“I... didn’t think it would feel like this,” you finally muttered, almost shyly, your gaze flickering to the floor before meeting his eyes again. “I mean... it’s... different than I thought it would be.”

Sunghoon smiled, his thumb brushing over your cheek again. "It’s okay," he said softly. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

He saw the hesitation in your eyes before you carefully placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him, slightly clumsy in your movements but so endearing. "I just... want to know how," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t really know what I’m doing."

His heart skipped a beat, a quiet warmth spreading through him. Sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound of it light and full of affection. “You’re doing just fine,” he reassured you, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss.

This time, when your lips met his, it was softer, slower. There was no rush. His hands gently found their way to your back, pulling you closer but not forcing anything. He just wanted to be close.

You kissed him back, your lips tentative at first but gradually growing more confident as you moved with him. 

It wasn’t perfect.

There were moments of awkwardness, a little shifting as you both figured out the rhythm, but it felt right. It felt... new.

When you finally pulled away, your breathing was a little heavier, and there was that nervous little smile on your face, making Sunghoon’s chest ache with affection.

“That wasn’t so bad, huh?” he teased gently, his thumb brushing over your lips before he smiled down at you, his gaze soft.

You looked up at him, your cheeks flushed . “I- no- no it's nice. I like kissing you.”

Sunghoon couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. It was a little silly, maybe, how happy he felt about something so simple. 

"I’m glad," he whispered.

──────────────────────

The days after your first kiss were somehow weird. Nice. But weird.  Your and Sunghoons dynamic didn’t really change after you kissed.  What changed were the small things. Like how Sunghoon had developed a tendency to press a kiss to your forehead or the crown of your head whenever he walked past you. At first, it startled you. Then it became something you looked forward to. Sunoo teasingly claimed it was because Sunghoon didn’t want to overwhelm you by kissing you all the time. Since you really didn’t have much experience there and maybe Sunghoon was afraid you would be uncomfortable. You wouldn’t have been. You wouldn’t have minded at all if Sunghoon kissed you more. In fact, you wanted him to.

You liked the way it felt, his fingers slipping into your hair, the warm pressure of his mouth against yours, the way your breath always caught for a second b. You liked being close to him. That simple.  It was a Thursday evening, the day you handed in your final model in Sustainability,  when you surprised both of you. You were standing in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hands still damp from rinsing a cutting board, when you heard the familiar clink of keys and the quiet creak of the front door. 

Sunghoon padded over behind you, still smelling faintly like his perfume, even after training. He must have brought it to the rink and sprayed it on again. You felt him lean in to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

But this time, you moved first.

You tilted your head up on instinct. The angle was a little off, his nose bumped yours, but it didn’t matter. Your lips caught his, quick and soft, before you could overthink it.

You surprised yourself.

And him.

His eyes were wide for half a second, startled, and then they softened.

You whispered a quiet, breathless, “Hi,” against his lips. 

Sunghoon smiled softly, his hand reaching up to caress your face. He really liked doing that as well. 

“Hi,” he whispered back, eyes still on yours.

Then, with the other hand against your jaw, fingers brushing just under your ear, he tilted your head up a bit and kissed you again. Slower this time. Deeper. And everything in you went quiet and full, like a held breath exhaled at last.

Sunghoon's thumb brushed along your jaw as he pulled back slightly, breath still warm against your skin. His eyes, gentle and a little tired from training, crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Sorry," he murmured, voice low. “I didn’t shower in the rink, I’m a bit gross. I just came to check if you ate.” 

You blinked up at him. Right. Eating.

You wordlessly lifted a finger and pointed toward the calendar hanging by the fridge.

He turned, followed your line of sight and laughed softly. A new sticker sat under the day's date, small and shiny. This one was a tiny white puppy with a floppy ear and a pink tongue sticking out.

"New pack?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

You nodded, and he reached up to brush his thumb once under your eye, so softly it barely counted as touch. 

“You’re too cute,” he said. His voice was so warm, so fond. You were so happy you got to see Sunghoon like this. 

He leaned in again, just one more press of lips to yours. 

“I’m gonna shower, okay?” he said as he pulled away, slowly, reluctantly.

You nodded again, feeling lightheaded in the nicest possible way.

As he disappeared down the hallway, you stopped for a moment, the soft overhead light casting a golden glow on the counter and the fruit you had forgotten about entirely.

You were giddy.

Your knees felt a little weak and your lips tingled. 

You popped a grape into your mouth and padded to the couch with the plate in hand, settling into the cushions like you had a secret folded under your skin.

You didn’t even pick a show right away - just sat there for a while, nibbling fruit, listening to the sound of water running through the walls, your fingers pressed against your lips.

──────────────────────

When Sunghoon padded out of the bathroom, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, hoodie sleeves pushed up over his forearms, the first thing he noticed was how quiet the apartment had gotten. The radio that was playing in the kitchen when he came home was quiet and he didn’t hear the TV making any sounds. 

Then he saw you. You were curled up on the sofa, blanket sliding off your shoulder, the plate of fruit halfway eaten empty on the table.

He chuckled under his breath, ruffling his hair with a towel before tossing it over his shoulder. “Didn’t you say you wanted to watch the episode?” he asked gently, kneeling next to the couch.

You whined softly, not bothering to open your eyes. “I did…” your voice was muffled by the cushion. “But I'm too tired. I don’t want to get up.”

Sunghoon smiled, shaking his head fondly. “Come on, sleepy. Let’s get you to bed.”

When you didn't move, he sighed and simply slipped one arm under your knees, the other around your back. You let out a tiny squeak as he lifted you with surprising ease.

“Sunghoon!” you protested faintly, eyes fluttering open now.

But he just grinned down at you, walking toward his room with careful steps. “You didn’t move to get up, so now you don’t have to.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, hiding your flushed cheeks. “I didn’t mean you had to carry me.”

He set you down gently at the edge of his bed, grabbing his laptop to queue up the episode again. “Go get ready, yeah? You’re not sleeping in jeans again.”

You pouted, fingers curling around the hem of his hoodie 

It took a moment before you finally shuffled off to the bathroom. When you returned your hair was pulled back in a neat braid and your eyes were half-lidded with sleep. He was already under the covers, the screen glowing with the paused episode.

You climbed in beside him without a word, immediately curling into his side, arm around his waist, cheek to his chest.

“Better?” he murmured, adjusting the blanket around you.

You nodded sleepily, lips barely brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “Mmhm.”

He kissed the top of your head, soft and slow and started the episode.

You were asleep before the second scene.

──────────────────────

You pushed the broccoli on your plate to the side.

It wasn’t even that much food. Not really. It should be more.

But it even the small dinner portion felt like a mountain today

Your stomach felt full from breakfast and lunch and the little snacks you ate in between.

Your mind had started counting again the second you sat down. Like a reel stuck on loop.

210 for the rice. 130 for the chicken. The oil? 40? 50? That made…

You stopped.

Didn’t want to know.

Wanted to know so badly it ached.

The numbers didn’t add up right. Or they added up too much. Or not enough.

This week was supposed to be better.

You were supposed to try harder.

You upped your calorie intake goal last monday.

Just like you had done a week before and a week before that one. You meal prepped your breakfst and lunch, your snacks, cooked with Sunghoon, when both of you were home and not stuck in the academy to prerp for exams.

Your did best to eat it all.

You couldn't.

Not once.

But somehow your stomach rebelled every time. Either you felt too full, too fast, or just sick at the thought of finishing a full plate.

You hadn’t filled in your calendar once. Not a single dog. Not even the tiny one Sunghoon said counted “just for trying.”

You felt like you were breaking your own promises.

Like you were letting everyone down.

However that wasn't the worst thing.

You were lying.

You got home before Sunghoon today. He had group work again, most of the people in his classes being athletes meant that most meetings started late and dragged past 10. He texted you “Dinner together?” and you’d typed “Already ate! But I’ll sit with you :)" before you could overthink it.

Then you tossed the leftover broccoli and chicken into the trash can, tied the bag up and brought it downstairs. You rinsed your plate and the one you usually used for your fruits and set them in the sink.

And you hated yourself a little for it. Not only for wasting food. But for even knowing what to do to make it believable you ate. And did so, for the third time in a row now

You knew Sunghoon would be supportive even if you couldn't eat today.

But maybe he would be mad you lied.

Sunghoon never got mad.

But because he’d be kind.

He’d be soft.

You were disappointing him.

You blinked hard and wiped your palms on your thighs.

It’s just food.

It’s just dinner.

It’s just one stupid sticker.

But it felt like proof. 

Proof that you failed. 

That you weren't getting better, no many how many people helped you.

──────────────────────

You heard the soft click of the front door unlocking before his familiar footsteps padded down the hallway. You sat up straighter on the couch, quickly grabbing your phone to pretend you hadn’t just been staring blankly at the floor.

He stepped into the living room, hair a little damp from the evening drizzle, eyes tired but bright when they landed on you.

“Hey,” he said softly, and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You were grateful–so, so grateful–he kissed you there and not on your lips. You weren’t sure what your breath might smell like after hours of nothing but water and mint gum. But you weren’t hungry. That was the worst part. You were feeling so full even if you didn't eat enough for your dog. Even if the thought of doing so made your stomach lurch. Sunghoon dropped onto the couch next to you with a tired exhale, stretching out long beside you. “Group work is the worst,” he muttered, tipping his head to the side to look at you. “I swear half the time is just arguing over who’s doing what. And I got roped into designing the slides again.” You smiled faintly, nodding. You wanted to ask him more, about the project, about the annoying guy in his group he always complained about, but the words didn’t make it to your mouth. Everything was muffled behind a thick, dull fog. His voice softened. “You okay?” You blinked and forced your lips into a gentler curve. “Yeah,” you said. “Just… think I’ve got a migraine coming on.” His brows pulled together in quiet concern. “Do you want me to get your stuff?” You shook your head quickly. “No, no, it’s fine. I took something already. I just—” you leaned a little into the couch cushions, “—need to rest, I think.”

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning your face like he didn’t quite believe you but wasn’t going to push. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said after a second. “Gonna wash off real quick.”

You nodded again and watched him disappear down the hallway.

And then you were alone again.

You curled your fingers into the hem of your sweater and exhaled.

You weren’t even sure what you needed to do to feel better.

To eat?

To cry?

To stop feeling like this?

But the only thing you were sure of was this:

You didn’t want him to know.

A few minutes later Sunghoon rounded the couch and dropped down beside you. The cushions dipped under his weight, his familiar warmth filling the small space between you both.

You kept your smile in place, the same soft, practiced curve of your lips. But you felt too aware of your body–of the weight in your stomach, the lingering guilt simmering under your skin.

He stretched his legs out, leaning his head back against the couch, exhaling like he was finally able to breathe again. "I swear I am so glad when my exams are over," he groaned.

You nodded, letting out a faint hum in agreement.

But his gaze flickered to you almost immediately.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.

Your breath caught, and you stared at the screen of your phone, forcing yourself to keep your tone light. “Yeah, just… tired.”

He didn’t say anything right away.

You could feel his eyes on you, lingering like he was searching for something you weren’t ready to give.

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten.

A beat passed.

“Did you eat something good for dinner? I'm going to make myself something, do you want to eat a bit with me?” he asked, softer this time.

Your heart stuttered painfully against your ribs. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat, nodding with a small smile you hoped looked convincing. “Mhm. I’m fine, I already ate dinner.”

Another pause.

He shifted closer, his arm resting along the back of the couch behind you. "Did you get your little dog sticker?" His voice was light–teasing–but you could hear the quiet worry threaded beneath it.

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t look at him, just stared at your hands in your lap as your smile faltered for a split second.

And that was all it took.

His hand gently brushed over your arm. "Y/N," he said softly, "you know you don’t have to lie to me, right? It's okay if you're not feeling okay."

Your throat tightened painfully.

“I’m not—” You stopped yourself. The words tangled. Lying felt worse when he said it like that.

He shifted again, moving to face you fully this time, his knee brushing yours. “It’s okay if you didn’t reach your goal today.” His voice was quiet, careful. “I’m still proud of you for trying.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them.

You shook your head, blinking hard, unable to look at him. “I just… I thought you’d be disappointed.”

“Hey,…” His hand found yours, fingers curling gently around your wrist. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“Because I couldn’t…” You swallowed, the guilt finally pushing its way to the surface. “I couldn’t do it right. Not today. Not this week. I wanted to-but it’s just-” Your breath hitched. “It’s not enough.”

He was quiet for a moment before his hand squeezed yours, grounding and warm.

“It’s always enough,” he said softly. “You’re always enough.”

You finally looked up, and the warmth in his eyes nearly broke you.

“And you don’t have to prove anything to me to make me proud,” he added, voice softer now. “Just… let me be here with you, okay? Even on the days that feel hard.”

Something in your chest cracked open at that.

You nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill. “Okay.”

He pulled you into his side without another word, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. 

──────────────────────

You waited until his breathing evened out.

Soft and steady. His arm was draped loosely around your middle, like it always was. 

Your chest felt tight. Like the air in your lungs wasn’t settling right. Like you couldn’t breathe. 

You slid out from under the covers carefully, inch by inch. His body shifted a little, but he didn’t wake up.

You hoped he didn’t.

The kitchen was mostly dark when you padded in barefoot. The city outside glowed faintly through the sheer curtains, casting pale golden lines across the calendar hanging on the fridge. The little dog stickers stared back at you, soft and silly and so stupidly kind-looking it made something inside your chest twist.

None for the last week.

You’d tried.

You really, really tried.

But every time you sat down in front of a plate, something clenched in your gut. The idea of eating more made your throat tight. You felt full already. And not in a satisfied way. In a sick way.

But still you told Sunghoon you had eaten.

You even rinsed off the plate and put it in the sink so it looked like you had.

You had lied to him.

Your eyes burned, staring at that empty row on the calendar. You hugged your knees to your chest, curling up on one of the kitchen chairs like you used to do when you were younger. 

Everything felt too big and too loud and too much.

You didn’t hear him at first.

But then there was the softest creak of the floorboard behind you, and you turned, startled, to see Sunghoon standing at the edge of the hallway. His bleached hair was messy from sleep, a faint crease on one cheek. He was just in sweatpants and a t-shirt, the sleeves pushed up. His eyes locked on yours almost immediately.

“Y/N…” he said softly, his voice thick with sleep and something else. 

Concern.

You looked away.

He walked toward you, bare feet making almost no sound and crouched down beside your chair, resting one hand on the armrest, the other lightly brushing your calf.

“You okay?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, then nodded. You weren’t sure which one was truer.

He followed your gaze to the calendar, to the bare stretch of empty squares. You felt your lip wobble and hated it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” he said immediately, quietly. His hand slid up to your knee, warm and grounding. “Don’t be sorry.”

“I just… I wanted to do better this week.”

“I know.”

“I thought if I just told you I ate enough you wouldn’t be–” You broke off.

He didn’t flinch. “I’m not disappointed in you. I’ll never be.”

You finally looked at him.

He held your gaze for a long moment. And then he stood up slowly, his hand reaching out toward you.

“Come back to bed,” he said, so gently it made your chest ache.

You hesitated.

But then you let him pull you up. Let him wrap your hand in his and guide you through the soft dark of the apartment. Back to the bedroom, back to the bed still warm from where you’d left him.

He pulled the covers up around you, then slid in behind you, arm curling around your waist again.

You exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.

And he didn’t say anything else.

Just pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and held you close.

──────────────────────

You woke up to the warmth of his chest against your back, and the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. His arm was still around you, hand resting lightly beneath your ribs.

You blinked at the soft light filtering through the curtains. 

It was still morning. 

Late, maybe.

Sunghoon was awake.

You knew it before he spoke. You felt it in the way his thumb was tracing slow, absent-minded shapes against your side. His lips brushed your shoulder.

“Good morning.” he said softly.

You swallowed. “Morning, Hoon.”

“You slept in today.”

You turned slowly onto your back, the sheets rustling as his arm shifted with you. He was looking at you. His hair was a mess, and you could see the stubble of his bear along his chin.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, voice small.

“Y/N.”

You bit your lip. “You skipped training.”

“I texted my coach,” he said. “It’s fine.”

“But it’s not fine. I didn’t mean to make you-”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he cut in gently. “I wanted to stay.”

You looked away, blinking fast.

“I wasn’t trying to hide things from you,” you whispered. “I just… I thought if I could at least pretend I was okay, you wouldn’t have to worry.”

His hand came up, warm and solid against your cheek, guiding your gaze back to his.

“I’m never disappointed in you,” he said quietly. “And I’d rather worry than be lied to.”

Your throat felt thick.

“I wanted to get that stupid sticker,” you mumbled.

“I know,” he said, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “But not eating enough to earn it doesn’t make you a failure. It just means we’re still figuring things out.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice.

After a long pause, he sighed through his nose. “Hey… remember I told you my friends were thinking of grabbing dinner tonight?”

You glanced at him, brows knitting together.

“You said I could come if I wanted to.”

“That’s still true. I know crowds aren’t always your favorite thing, but maybe having a few people around could… I don’t know. Make eating feel less like a thing for a night.”

You thought about it.

After a few seconds you nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s try that.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, warm and proud and relieved all at once.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “We’ll take it slow.”

And you believed him.

──────────────────────

Sunghoon saw you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you smiled at something Heeseung’s girlfriend said, your fingers fidgeting slightly beneath the table. The grill in the center hissed with grease and heat, smoke curling in slow spirals above the sizzling slices of pork belly. He sat beside you, tongs in one hand, quietly turning the meat, brushing it with marinade. Mark told him you used to love samgyopsal.  Now, he watched you hesitate before picking up a piece with your chopsticks. You chewed slowly, nodding as Jay’s girlfriend offered you some of her favorite dipping sauce. You thanked her softly. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. Sunghoon knew. He knew that you were feeling off a bit today.  Yesterday.  Probably the whole last week, since you told him you’d try to eat another 100 kcal more every day now. Since you failed to reach that goal every day for a week now. He hoped that being around people that you enjoyed hanging out with would make it easier. You’ve told him before that you really liked his friends and you ate almost an entire steak the last time when Jay, Jake and Heeseung were over.  But you were quiet tonight. Not withdrawn, just…watchful. You laughed here and there, made conversation, but you weren’t fully with them. He glanced across the table at his friends, who were animated and loud, clinking soju glasses and stacking lettuce wraps with an alarming amount of garlic. And then he looked to the left - at the two girls from his training crew who’d shown up last minute.

You hadn’t said much to them. You’d made the effort, Sunghoon had noticed that too, but he could see you pulling back. It was like the two of them were making everything worse. He just couldn’t understand why.  Sunghoon saw Wonie shift in her seat beside you, tucking her napkin onto her lap before leaning a little closer. "You’re in architecture, right?" she asked, her voice bright. "I think that’s so cool. You must be, like, crazy good at drawing." You smiled, he saw that, but it was that careful, polite kind you used when you were feeling awkward. The one you gave him when he just moved in. When you didn’t know how to answer. “Sometimes,” you said softly, and your fingers toyed with the rim of your glass.

Wonie laughed, unbothered. “Oh! The paintings in your apartment are clearly showing that you don’t just sometimes draw crazy good. They are so beautiful.” You nodded, still smiling, but Sunghoon could see how your shoulders had crept higher, your posture a little too stiff. You were trying so hard.  He wished so badly it would be easier for you.  Sunghoon made sure to keep your plate from going empty, not pushing too much meat, because he knew that was hard. But sweetened pickled radish. A few rice cakes. Rolled omelet. Tiny bites of manageable food, colorful and easy to chew. After a while you excused yourself to go to the restroom. When you got up, Wonyoung waited until you were out of earshot before turning to him and Heeseung, a crease forming between her brows. “Is she okay?” she asked, low enough that the others couldn’t hear. “I was trying to talk to her, but she seemed kinda… out of it.” Heeseung leaned back in his seat, mouth already full of pork belly, and shrugged slightly. “She’s probably just having a rough day. She’s not always super talkative, but she usually warms up. It’s not personal.”

He and Heesueng often talked about you. Sunghoon has told him how you were doing, kept him updated because Heeseung himself asked quite frequently how you were doing. He assumed it was because Heesung knew what it meant to love someone who was struggling. Sunghoon was aware that Heeseungs his friends' girlfriends has had a hard life as well and even if she didn’t let it shine through too often, Heeseung had told him that she was often struggling as well.  So he guessed Heeseung kinda knew what was going on with you tonight.  He knew Heeseung, even if he was getting giggly and drunk, would never tell a stranger about it though.   Wonie nodded, but glanced back toward the hallway. “She seems really sweet. Just... quiet.” Sunghoon didn’t say much. He just hummed, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. Because yeah. You were sweet. You were quiet. And that was okay.  When you came back to the table, Sunghoon’s eyes went to your face first, like they always did, and then, almost unconsciously, drifted down to your hands. Your knuckles looked normal. No redness. No telltale signs. But he still looked. Every time. He told himself he wasn’t being paranoid. Not really. Just… cautious. Just watching. Because he knew you. Knew how hard you tried, how strict you could be with yourself. He’d seen your calendar, the quiet pride on your face when you stuck a little dog sticker onto the square. But he also knew the days you didn’t. He knew that when you missed a sticker, sometimes it was just a few calories but sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes it was an entire skipped meal. Sometimes it was trying too hard. Always trying too hard. You’d raised your goal last week. He knew that too. And you were so strict about it, like one missed calorie was failure. Like one sticker not earned meant you'd let everyone down. Like he would be disappointed. As if that could ever be true. Sunghoon leaned forward and turned the grill down a little, just to give his hands something to do. He watched you nudge a piece of sweet pancake around your plate, like you were trying to convince yourself you wanted it. When you caught his eye, you gave him the smallest smile. A tired one. But real. He gave you one back and reached for your hand beneath the table, just brushing his fingers over your knuckles once. Soft. Gentle.

──────────────────────

When you got home, it was late and cold outside. The scent of grilled meat clinged to your hair, your clothing. You toed off your shoes in the hallway and padded into the kitchen without a word. Sunghoon followed a few minutes later after locking the door and flicking off the hallway light. The only glow now came from the small lamp you kept on the kitchen counter, casting a soft golden pool across the room. You stood in front of the calendar. He saw the way your shoulders dropped before you even spoke. “I can’t put a sticker up, Honnie,” you whispered. “Again." His chest tightened. He didn’t answer right away, just walked up slowly behind you until he could place a gentle hand on your back. You didn’t flinch, but your head dipped forward like the shame was heavy. “I tried. I really did. But it just… I couldn’t.”

He didn’t ask how much you missed it by. He already knew it didn’t matter to you, it would still feel like failure to you, no matter the number. So he spoke softly. “Do you want to lower the goal again? Just a bit?” You turned to face him slowly, your eyes glossy but dry. “I thought I could handle more,” you said. “I thought it’d make me better. I just wanted to be- I wanted you to be proud.” His heart cracked a little more at that. He stepped in, arms slipping around your waist, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “I’m already proud of you,” he murmured into your hair. “Every single day.” You didn’t reply, just stood there in his arms, arms wound tight around his middle. And maybe he felt the tiniest tremble in your fingers when you finally clutched the fabric of his shirt. “Let’s change the goal tomorrow,” he whispered. “Not because you failed. But because we’re learning. Okay?” You nodded against him.

“Okay.”

──────────────────────

You stared at your phone in disbelief.  You had done it. You had eaten enough today. You could finally glue a sticker to your calendar again. 

You reached for the sticker sheet with slightly trembling fingers. Sunghoon bought another pack of dog stickers a few days ago. These ones were pale yellow puppies with pink cheeks. You peeled one off carefully and placed it onto the day’s square, softly pressing it down. A breath broke out of your chest, and you felt lighter. Then a laugh. Then, without thinking, you were calling Sunghoon. He picked up halfway through the fourth ring, a bit breathless, the shouting of his coach over someone's music locker muffled in the background. “Hey, Y/Nie—what’s up?” You sat down at the kitchen table, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “I did it,” you whispered. “I get a dog today.” There was a pause, half a beat, before he made a soft, stunned sound, full of joy. “You did?”

“I did.” “Wait – hold on,” he said, voice muffled as he must’ve turned to cover the receiver. Then clearer, “I’m so proud of you. Wait– wait, I have something, too.” Your smile grew impossibly wider. “What?” “I qualified,” he said. “For the invitational next spring. My coach just told me.” Your hand flew to your mouth. “No way.” “Yeah. I don’t know how that happened but it seems like my lucky streak is back!” You felt like bursting. You felt full. In the best way. You whispered, “We did so good today.” He chuckled, soft and low. “Yeah, we did.” As you hung up, a warm, calm feeling settled over you. You had decided to lower the calorie goal and that was okay. You had listened to Ten, to Johnny, to Mark and to Sunghoon.  They all told you it was okay to stagnate for a little while. Recovery wasn’t meant to be linear.

It was okay to take a step back. You weren’t giving up, you were just being kinder to yourself. You still had work to do, but you weren’t trying to run a marathon when you weren’t even sure how to walk yet.  Without thinking, you picked up your pen and reached for the calendar again. You drew two tiny stars next to the dog sticker. Then three more. Then a few sparkles in gold. One for him. One for you. One for both of you. You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling just a little bit. You stared at the stars, the gold dots gleaming in the soft kitchen light.  You had earned this.  It felt good to say that. When Sunghoon came home, he paused at the door, eyes falling on the calendar before he even took off his shoes. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You really did it?” he asked, his voice warm with a mixture of pride and affection. You nodded, suddenly feeling more confident than you had in a long time. “I did. And… I’m okay with it. I think I made the right choice by lowering the calorie goal.” His eyes softened as he walked closer, lifting his hand to brush his fingers through your hair and cradle your face. “I’m proud of you. I’m really proud of you.” Your heart swelled. You had no idea what you would’ve done without him, without this space where you could grow. And even though you didn’t have all the answers, you were beginning to understand that it was okay. Sunghoon smiled at the calendar again. “I think I might need to get you more dog stickers,” he teased, pulling you into a closer. You laughed softly. “You’re gonna spoil me,” you said, a playful glint in your eye. “I’m gonna spoil you because you deserve it,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making your chest warm, before he pressed a kiss to your lips.

──────────────────────

The wind was a little too chilly and you buried your face in Sunghoon's scarf.  It smelled so distinctly of him.  Of home.  You’ve just handed in your last model for this semester and were walking back home instead of taking the bus. It was a forty minute walk, but you enjoyed seeing something else than your apartment, the studio or the rink.  You found yourself walking aimlessly, when something caught your eye. An elegant, minimalist hair salon with a large glass window showcasing sleek, shiny haircuts and smooth blowouts. You paused. You had been thinking about cutting your hair for a while now. It was brittle and thin and you had it in a braid more times than not, since it was long enough to annoy you.  Maybe it was time for a change.

You walked up to the door, hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open. The salon was warm, and the air smelled faintly of floral-scented hair products. A stylist greeted you with a smile. "Hi, welcome! How can I help you today?" You smiled, trying to sound casual, even though your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. "Uh, I was wondering if you had any slots available today?" She checked her schedule, her fingers tapping lightly on the screen. "We do have one opening in an hour. Would that work for you?" You nodded eagerly. “Yes, perfect. I’ll be back then.” She handed you a quick form to fill out and you wandered out of the salon, mind buzzing. What were you even doing? You didn’t even have a clear idea of what kind of cut you wanted. You only knew that you needed to change something.  You strolled around the nearby shops, your thoughts running wild. You ended up spending most of the time in a arts and crafts store, trying out different new pens and materials and buying new stickers. Snowmen, since winter and christmas was right around the corner. You glanced at the time on your phone and hurried back to the salon. When you returned, the stylist was ready for you, and she smiled at you warmly as she led you to the chair.

“So, what are we doing today?” she asked, setting the cape around your shoulders. You took a deep breath and smiled shyly. “I’m not really sure what I want, but I think... I want to go shorter. Maybe above my shoulders? Something that will make my hair look fuller and give it some life?” She nodded thoughtfully. “Got it. I think going shorter will help with volume. Do you want layers, or just a clean chop?” You hesitated for a moment, then decided, “Layers sound good. Something soft, but not too much. I want it to feel light, not too heavy.” The stylist smiled and gave you a reassuring nod. “Sounds perfect. Let’s do it.” As she began cutting, you sank into the chair, your thoughts running quietly in the background. It felt good to take control of something for once, to make a change without worrying about the consequences By the time the cut was done, you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled softly. It was shorter than you expected, but in a good way. It framed your face, the layers adding a bit of volume and movement. You ran your fingers through it.  When the stylist finished, she spun the chair around so you could get a full look. “How does that feel?” “Good,” you said, feeling a rush of confidence you hadn’t had in a while. “I think I love it.”

She smiled. “Great choice. It’s always refreshing to try something new.” You paid for the cut and thanked her profusely before heading back out into the city streets.  As you stepped out of the salon and walked back toward your apartment, your mind started to race. Would Sunghoon think it looks good? He had always liked your hair. Loved it, really.  He loves to run his fingers through it whenever he had the chance to. He always told you he loved how long and pretty it was.  It wasn’t long anymore. More of a bob, just above your shoulders, with soft layers framing your face. It was fresh, bouncy, and definitely gave off a different vibe. Would he think you were still... pretty? You chewed your bottom lip, glancing at your reflection in the windows as you passed by the shops. The bob looked great, but you were still unsure if it was exactly what he would expect or if he would even like it. But it’s not about what he expects, you reminded yourself. 

It’s about what you want.

──────────────────────

Sunghoon’s arms were overflowing as he fumbled his way through the door, balancing a grocery bag precariously in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. His key clattered noisily onto the side table as he shoved the door open with his hip, barely managing to keep the apples that were laying on the top from rolling out of the bag. "Hi Y/N! I am ho-" he stopped mid sentence. You were standing in the kitchen preparing dinner. And your hair— He blinked, stunned, trying to process what he was seeing. It was shorter. Soft waves curled just beneath your chin, brushing against your neck in a way that made his stomach flip violently. God, you looked so beautiful. Sunghoon didn’t even remember letting go of the bags, only registering the soft thump of them hitting the floor a second later.  All he could see was you.

All he could think about was you. Before he knew it, he was crossing the room in three big strides, almost tripping over himself in his rush to get to you. You turned around at the sound, eyes widening slightly at the sudden movement, and gave him the shyest, tiniest smile. Without thinking, Sunghoon cupped your face in his hands, his fingers immediately finding their way into the soft strands of your new haircut. It felt so different. Lighter. Softer. “Do you like it?” you asked, voice so small he almost missed it. “Like it?” he repeated, his voice hoarse. He huffed out a laugh, disbelieving, awestruck. “Baby, you look–” He didn’t even finish. Instead, he dipped his head down and kissed you, hard.

You let out a startled little squeak against his mouth, hands flailing for half a second before settling against his chest. His mouth slanted over yours desperately and a little clumsy, like he couldn’t get close enough fast enough. His fingers slid into your soft, feather-light hair, brushing through the strands at the nape of your neck, cradling you to him. For a second he feared that overwhelmed you and that you wanted to stop kissing, that you wanted to pull away. You didn’t. In fact, you tilted your head up, chasing after him just as eagerly, your giggle bubbling against his mouth. He pulled back a fraction to breathe, but didn’t even make it a full second before diving back in, kissing you again. His hand slipped from your hair down to your waist, tugging you flush against him. He savored the way you melted against him, the way your fingers slipped up to tangle in the fabric of his hoodie. He could feel the way your heart raced against his chest, matching the frantic beat of his own. He should have stopped there.

He should have. But Sunghoon was completely, hopelessly addicted to you. He kissed you again, and again, and again. Each kiss grew deeper, a little more desperate. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way his hands slid down to your waist, couldn’t help the way his thumb traced the line of your jaw, memorizing every inch of you. You broke apart, gasping, and he caught a glimpse of your flushed cheeks and the wide, dazed smile you gave him.

“Sunghoon–” you started, laughing breathlessly. He cut you off with another kiss, just because he could. This time slower, more deliberate, his lips teasing at the corners of your mouth before fully capturing them again. His hands roamed, stroking your sides, feeling the way you trembled just slightly under his touch. You weren’t exactly passive either. Your hands slid up his chest, fists bunching in the front of his shirt to pull him closer. When he flicked his tongue lightly against your lower lip, testing, you gasped, the sound shooting straight through him like a live wire. He pulled back again, barely, resting his forehead against yours, panting a little. “God,” he muttered, his thumb brushing along your jawline with a kind of reverence. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” You smiled, all shy and giddy, still half in his arms. “I just got a haircut…” you whispered, almost like you couldn’t believe the reaction you were getting.

Sunghoon shook his head, pulling you impossibly closer. “It’s not just the haircut. It’s you. It’s always been you.” He laughed breathlessly, pressing another quick kiss to your nose, your forehead, your cheeks, until you were giggling uncontrollably and hiding your face in his chest. God. He loved you so much it hurt. He nuzzled into your hair, breathing you in, and mumbled, “I think dinner’s gonna have to wait a little longer.” You only laughed harder, and Sunghoon smiled so wide it made his cheeks ache. He held you there for a moment, your heart beating against his, his hands stroking gently through your freshly cut hair before you pulled back, looped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him again. His mouth moved against yours with slow, heady urgency, coaxing little gasps from you that made him grin against your lips. You shifted, standing on your toes to kiss him back harder, and he groaned quietly in approval, his fingers flexing where they held you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sunghoon knew he should slow down, but it was so hard when you were right here in your shared kitchen, wrapped around him. He kissed you until both of you were dizzy, until your giggles had melted into soft whimpers against his lips. And even then, he only pulled away reluctantly, trailing kisses along your jaw, your temple, savoring every second, every inch of you. When he finally leaned back enough to look at you, your cheeks were flushed, your lips kiss-swollen, and your eyes shining up at him like he hung the stars. You both just stood there, breathing each other in, hearts racing, faces so close he could feel your every exhale. “I guess… you like the haircut?” you teased softly, breathless. Sunghoon laughed, low and breathy, his thumb brushing the edge of your smile. “Like doesn’t even cover it, baby.” He kissed you again, gentler now. “You’re perfect,” he whispered into your skin. “You’re so perfect it’s actually unfair.” And when you hid your face in his chest, giggling and overwhelmed, Sunghoon just held you tighter, knowing in his bones that he never wanted to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

──────────────────────

The jewelry store was quiet except for the soft hum of the lights above and the occasional muted conversation between staff and customers. Sunghoon stood at the counter, hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets, his heart hammering against his ribs. In front of him, under the glass, sat dozens of glittering rings, each one more beautiful than the last. And somehow, none of them felt good enough. “She’s gonna love whatever you pick, you know that, right?” Heeseung’s voice cut through his swirling thoughts. Sunghoon looked over at him, managing a weak laugh. “Yeah. I know. I’m just-” He shook his head, exhaling sharply. “I want it to be perfect.” Heeseung leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with a little half-smile. “You’re overthinking it,” he said, nudging Sunghoon lightly with his elbow. “You’ve been together forever. She’s already picked you, dumbass. She would probably marry you in a paper ring.” Sunghoon huffed out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

He was right. You probably would. Heeseung tilted his head, that familiar glint in his eye. “Remember what I told you? Way back when? If you played your cards right, those monkey stickers would stay forever?” He grinned. “Guess what, bro? You played ‘em right. Your little monkey’s still around.” Sunghoon’s chest tightened at the nickname. You didn’t need the sticker charts anymore, not for years now. But somehow Heeseung still teasingly called you ‘monkey,’. Sunghoon still has that calender with the many different stickers in a little box in his closet. He took it out from time to time. Years had passed, but in Sunghoon’s mind, it felt like time had both flown by and stood still all at once. He was no longer just the aspiring skater, chasing a dream. He had made it. His name was known in the skating world now. He had won the olympics, not once but twice. And through it all, you had been there. Sunghoon smiled down at the glass, a lump growing in his throat. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “She’s still here.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His mind drifted back to those small moments he spend with you. Those quiet nights on the sofa, wathcing silly dramas, talking, sleeping together, first in your small shared student apartment, then one in Busan, and now the one in your apartment near the olympia park. He had seen you blossom–recovering, becoming the strong, beautiful woman you were today. He cleared his throat and glanced over at Heeseung. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you for everything back then.”

Heeseung shrugged, but there was warmth in his eyes. “You don’t have to. Just watching the two of you… that’s enough, man.” He nodded at the rings. “You’ve both earned this. All of it. It’s about time you made her your forever. Now hurry up and pick one so you can make it official already. Before I start crying or something, and then we’ll both be embarrassed.” Sunghoon laughed, and leaned closer to the glass, his fingers tapping nervously against the edge. One particular ring caught his eye. Simple. Elegant. Not flashy, but quietly beautiful. Just like you. He pointed at it. “That one.” His voice was firm, certain. “That’s the one.”

Heeseung whistled low under his breath. “Oh it's pretty. Monkey’s gonna lose her mind.” Sunghoon grinned. He could already imagine it, your hands trembling as he slipped the ring onto your finger, your watery smile, the way you’d throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He could picture every second of it. “She’s my everything,” Sunghoon said quietly, almost to himself. Heeseung clapped a hand on his shoulder. “And you’re hers. Always have been.” This was it. The start of your forever. A forever he had fought for, that you both had earned with every smile, every late-night talk, every sticker on that old calendar.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox @bluxjun @sumzysworld @outroherrr @50-husbands @ikeumina @softchannie @sirens-dreams @schmocolateschmchip @vviolynn @nishiimuraka @enhalxvr @ijustreallylike2read @enhastolemyheart @wintereals @planetmarlowe @baeeeeah @wonzzziezzzz @mochamvgz @lovtaesunu @makeme1cream @stars4jo @vviolynn @lylaloopsie @meimeiyh @motherscrustytoenailclippings @haerni @sooberriesx @nishiimuraka (did this actually work? Somehow I can’t use any of the links from the tags?)

ᝰ an. Its done. 87.583 words later. I am so happy with how this turned out. I also did infact not sleep or do my uni stuff for the last week, because I so desperately wanted to finish this and see what my brain would be coimng up with. The quality probably suffered a bit under my sleep deprived brain working on this... I actually forgot to write a few scenes I planned to include, but I'll probably release them as one shots at one point. Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story and waiting for the final parts. It has been a long ride. ₊ ⊹  

[pineconepie]

cullen and august with a traumatized reader who refuses to eat maybe?

CHARACTERS: Cullen, August, Reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Eating disorder/reader refusing to eat, parental yanderes, implied PTSD, yelling, arguing, hurt/comfort, light angst, light forced infantilization, terms of endearment, cursing, threats of force-feeding, Cullen not following his own advice lol

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

"Hon, what's wrong?" Cullen had expected to see his husband eager to greet him after arriving home from such a long day at work.

Yet only a fool would assume everything is okay by how August is pacing back and forth in the living room with furrowed eyebrows, a grim frown, and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. It's clear something has greatly upset him.

"(Y/n) has been in their room all day," August replies gravely, "I left breakfast and lunch on their nightstand but they didn't eat any of it." He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "I'm so worried."

Cullen sets down his suitcase and loosens the red tie around his neck. "Well, they can't skip dinner if they haven't eaten anything all day, that's for sure. But remember what the doc said. This is gonna take time, and it's not like this came out of left-field."

His husband folds his arms over his chest. "I know, but some foolish part of me was hoping they'd just... be eager to be in our arms all the time now. Like when they were younger." Cullen opens his mouth, to which August cuts him off. "Don't tell me it was unrealistic to think that, I know it is. But I'm still... so scared and worried."

"It's okay, Auggie," he assures with a warm smile. He steps forward to pull the taller man into his arms. Cullen rubs his back and hugs him tightly. "You want to get dinner ready while I try to talk to them?"

August nods slowly and pulls away, taking a shaky breath before heading down the hall to the kitchen.

Cullen turns to his left where a small flight of stairs leads to your room. After walking up the five or so steps, he approaches your closed door. The first knock he taps lightly against the wood, figuring you're not likely to answer. "(Y/n)?" he calls through the door. "It's Dad. You doing okay? Do you mind if I come in?"

No response, but it isn't like he really expected one.

He steps inside your bedroom to see you curled up under the blankets with the lights off. He takes a seat on your bed, making sure to keep as much distance from you as possible so you feel safe.

"(Y/n)," he murmurs softly, "you haven't eaten yet today. Let's try to get at least half of our dinner down, huh?" You shake your head side to side under the covers. He frowns. "Sweetheart, please. Not eating isn't good. We don't want you getting sick." Another head shake. He sighs, eyebrows furrowed as he rests a hand over where your shoulder might be. "Can you at least come downstairs to show your Papa that you're alive?"

You let out a long huff. The silence hangs over the room, and finally, you roll over and sit up. Your face is blotchy and covered in tear tracks.

He smiles sadly. "Hey there, sweet pea." He moves forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, then stands up, reaching a hand out towards you. "Why don't we get some food in your belly?"

It's better to just not argue, so you take his hand and allow him to lead you downstairs and into the dining room. You take a seat while he enters the kitchen.

Soon after, August walks back in with a bowl of your favorite soup and favorite meal.

His expression changes from relief to concern again, once he sees your tear-stained face. Cullen, who was pouring lemonade into three glasses, shoots a pointed look at August, silently telling him 'not now'. August forces a smile, and sets the bowl of chicken noodle soup and a spoon down in front of you.

They take their seats across from you.

"Eat as much as you can," Cullen reminds, grabbing one of the saltine crackers for his own stew.

You stare at it, sometimes bringing your gaze up to their happy, domestic faces as they enjoy their dinner.

They both notice you don't eat your food, but don't bring it up in hopes that you'll maybe be more willing if they ignore it. So Cullen rambles about his day and how annoying it was that the vending machine was broken, while August listens and nods, but is much less subtle in his worry for you, glancing at you and your untouched food every minute.

Once their bowls are empty, they both look at you expectantly.

"You gotta eat," Cullen says first. His voice is gentle, but there's no doubt a certain firmness to it.

August tries next when you stay silent. "Do you need Dad or I to feed you? We wouldn't mind at all."

"No," you curtly reply. It's the first word you've spoken aloud all day. They're a little startled by it, yet neither one comments. "I'm not hungry."

"But (Y/n)," August insists, "you have to be hungry. You skipped breakfast and lunch." He reaches forward to brush your hair out of your face, only for you to jerk away. You shoot him an icy glare. He lets out a slow, even breath. "Please."

You narrow your eyes.

"C'mon," Cullen says. "Eat some of it. If you can finish at least half, then you can go straight back upstairs and we won't bug you." You remain silent. Cullen's voice raises slightly. "You better take this offer, because if you don't, then you aren't leaving until every last bit is gone."

"I said," you grit out, "I'm not hungry." The stern glare remains frozen on your face as your hands curl into fists under the table.

"Do you want to be back in the hospital with a fucking feeding tube again?" he snaps. "Because that's what's going to happen if you don't stop with this!"

"Honey..." August cautions in a low voice.

"If you want to act like a baby, you can get treated like one!" Cullen practically shouts, ignoring his husband. You shrink back, avoiding his eyes. "I will literally spoon feed you myself if I have to! Then you'll be grounded for a whole month! Is that what you want?!"

"No!" you shout back. "Why are you doing this?!"

In disbelief, Cullen gasps, clearly offended. "Why the hell do you think we're doing this!?"

He stands up abruptly, chair falling behind him, and you fall out of your own one, raising your hands in front of your face defensively. That shuts him up right away, and he almost looks like he might cry when he realizes the situation he created.

It makes him sick that you'd ever feel scared of him. He's never felt this awful before.

"Oh my God." Cullen steps closer, arms outreached. "(Y/n)..."

August approaches like you're an injured animal. "Sweetie—" He stops as soon as you scramble backwards, trying to put more space between them and yourself. He swallows hard and holds his arms open towards you, invitingly, making sure to keep several feet between you. You stare at him with wide eyes, still breathing rapidly. "No one's mad at you, darling. Everything's okay." His voice breaks, despite how hard he tries to not let it.

Your response is to scramble away from the dining room and up to your bedroom, where you lock yourself inside.

"I'm so sorry," Cullen breathes.

"Don't blame yourself too much," he murmurs tiredly.

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Don't blame myself? They thought I was gonna fucking hit them, August! They thought I was gonna—" he chokes on his words as a sob threatens to tear through him. "Now they'll never eat."

August shakily sighs. He wants to comfort his husband, but it's hard to when he can hear your cries from your room. He rubs a hand over his face.

"I'm always the calm one," Cullen mutters. "I can't believe I did that... it's been such a long day and I just—I just needed them to eat something—"

"I know." August puts a hand on his arm. "I'm going to check on them, alright? If they're calmer, I'll bring them down so you can talk."

Cullen sniffles and nods in approval. August goes back upstairs. After taking a deep breath, he knocks softly against your door.

"(Y/n)," he quietly calls, "can I come in?" Silence greets him once again. He rests his head on the wooden surface of your door and sighs. "Sweetheart, no one is upset with you. Neither of us are. Right now, it's just me. Papa. Okay?"

"...okay," you weakly respond.

The corners of his lips quirk into a bittersweet smile. "I'm going to come in now." The door creaks open and August quickly shuts it behind himself, stepping further into your room to see you curled up underneath blankets. He carefully plops himself beside you. He feels tears prickling in his eyes when you curl away. "Could you look at me?"

You reluctantly peek your head out from underneath the covers and raise your watery eyes to his.

He gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "There's those beautiful eyes." August opens his arms towards you. "Hug?" You shyly crawl towards him, settling onto his lap and letting him wrap his arms around you. He rocks back and forth, cradling your head to his chest.

"I love you," he murmurs. "I love you more than anything. Both of us love you." He places a gentle kiss atop your head. "I wish there were a way you could fully understand how much you mean to us."

"Then why did Dad get angry?" you rasp.

August purses his lips. "He knows he shouldn't have done that, but he isn't mad at you, sweetheart. Not one bit. He just wants you to be okay. And so do I. And we're worried, because if you don't eat, you'll hurt yourself. We lost you once, we can't lose you again." His voice seeps with something darker at that last statement. "But no matter what, we'd never lay a hand on you in anger. Never ever."

You exhale through your nose. "I don't do it to hurt you or Dad."

He shakes his head. "Oh, we know you don't. You wouldn't try to hurt us intentionally. But the issue is that you're hurting yourself, and that hurts us just as much."

Your stomach growls, to which you grimace.

August smiles a little at that. "How about this?" he suggests. "Come downstairs and finish half your bowl, then you can go back upstairs and have some alone time. No interruptions, unless you want them. How does that sound? And while I heat up your food again, you can talk to your dad. He wants to apologize. Would that be alright?"

A slow nod follows, and August helps you stand up before rising to his feet. Hand in hand, you both return downstairs.

There, you find Cullen pacing in the living room. He sighs in relief upon seeing you.

August turns to you. "I'm going to put your dinner back in the microwave real fast while you two chat." He leaves after kissing your forehead.

You feel Cullen place a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he murmurs. "I am so, so sorry for yelling. You didn't deserve that, especially after all you've been through. That was wrong of me to scare you like that." He hugs you tight, and you let him. It surprises him. "But you need to eat. Even if it's small. Please. Your old man can't take worrying anymore."

"It's not your fault I can't eat," you mumble.

Cullen buries his face in your hair for a moment, then asks, "Why can't you, (Y/n)?"

"Because I don't deserve it."

When he pulls away, you're shocked to see his eyebrows furrowed in anguish, tears glistening in his eyes. You didn't expect such a strong reaction. His mouth moves without saying anything at first. "That's not—that's not true. That couldn't be any less true." You're startled when he hugs you tight to his chest. "Don't ever say that again. Don't even think it. Of course you deserve good things."

He places two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up, smiling with pure adoration, yet it's tinged with melancholy.

"The fact that someone made you feel otherwise absolutely kills me. You deserve everything good in life, (Y/n). Absolutely everything. All of our love, homemade dinners, hugs, kisses, presents, cuddles, warmth. All of it."

August reappears holding the warm bowl of soup. "All done now," he announces.

As you follow Cullen towards the table, you find it a little easier to breathe somehow.

[locketsvault]

「 HUMAN S/O REFUSES TO EAT 」

pairing: ken kaneki x gender neutral human reader

tags: gender neutral reader, first person pov, no agab mentioned, no pronouns used, established relationship, takes place right after kaneki gets turned, switches between story and headcanon, eating disorders, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: I cannot stress enough that what reader does in this story is self harm and can be classified as an eating disorder, please take these warnings seriously before you read, heavy angst, explicit depictions of starvation, depression, guilt; reader passes out from not eating, happyish ending

request: Hello! I just found your blog and I think it's really great! May I request a scenario or headcanons (whichever you prefer) for Kaneki with a g/n reader who's human and refuses to eat human food one day because they feel bad that Kaneki can't eat human food anymore? Thank you! (Original request can be found here.)

word count: 1109

a/n: I will be switching between headcanon style and normal writing. please skip this work if it may be triggering, and please remember to always take care of yourself. you cannot be there for others, if there’s nothing left of you.

I’m going to establish a few things before we get started. In order for the timeline to match up better in my head, Kaneki and reader are already in a relationship. He was being kind and offered to walk Rize home when the attack happened, it wasn’t a date.

Now that that’s out of the way, reader and Kaneki are close, closer than he is to Hide. Which is saying a lot considering how private the boy is. You have a key to his apartment and go anytime you please, which came in handy when it came time for his release from the hospital.

You had taken it upon yourself to take care of him. Cook food, do the dishes, clean the house, make sure he was fairing well mentally. That last part though, was something you forgot you both needed to do. And it wasn’t hard to get lost in his pain.

It didn’t take long at all to notice he wasn’t eating any of the food you made him. In fact, anytime he’d try, he’d get violently sick. You were there to witness it, and he’d refuse to let you call for an ambulance. You were there when his ghoul eye came out, you were there for the realization he wasn’t human anymore.

Your intentions started off well, you swear it did. You stopped eating in front of him, especially foods that he used to love. You felt it were rubbing in his face that he couldn’t have it anymore. But then the guilt grew. With zero support system for yourself, the dark thoughts started coming.

You left him by himself. He wouldn’t have gotten attacked if he were with you. Why would you eat in front of him, that’s disgusting. You know he can’t have it anymore. You know the torment cannibalism is having on him. You’re lucky you can still enjoy human food.

Until one day, you wouldn’t eat at all. It didn’t go unnoticed. Thankfully, you were called out immediately after it started.

You were sitting in Anteiku, everyone at the cafe was familiar with who you were, and that you knew they were all ghouls. It took a while before they all felt comfortable around you, but once they did you found yourself gaining new friends.

“You’re an idiot you know that,” Nishiki said as he placed a cup of coffee in front of you. You were sitting at the bar, watching them work. Kaneki was upstairs with Hinami, it was just you, Nishiki, and Irimi in the store. You played with the cup, staring at the dark liquid.

“Ghouls can smell diet changes you know, helps us make sure we are eating well. Your scent is sour. Do you really think you’re any good to him if you’re dead?” He continued on, despite his words having bite to them, his tone showed he was genuinely worried. “Humans are so strange…”

He turned his attention away from you when you didn’t respond, instead sipping on your coffee. Logically you knew he was right, but the lack of appetite from your growing guilt, that made it even harder. Even if you wanted to eat, it’s slowly becoming harder. Your body is growing accustomed to not eating.

You took another sip, the feeling went to your head, caffeine on an empty stomach caused you to feel a bit lightheaded. You let out an uncomfortable whine, holding your head.

“Y/n? You okay?” Nishiki turned back to you in concern.

When he didn’t get a response, he walked around the corner to you, gently shaking your shoulder. You let out another whine, your movements sluggish. Not missing a beat, you proceeded to lose consciousness. The last thing you recall hearing is Nishiki shouting your name, and the sound of someone running down the stairs.

When you awoke, you were laying on a couch upstairs, a cold wet rag on your head, and someone holding your hand. You could hear crying as well. The lights were off, something you were grateful for, as opening your eyes was painful. A soft whine from your lips notified Kaneki you were awake.

He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes, his eyepatch off, his ghoul eye activated, tears pouring down his face. He looked terrified, the same expression as when he found out he was a ghoul.

“Why… Nishiki told me. Why are you doing this? Please y/n, please don’t do this… you have to live. I can’t lose another person, I can’t lose you.” He cried out, and oh, he was terrified.

You reached out and cupped his cheek, he immediately leaned into it. “I’m not trying to die, I don’t… mean to do this. I just… I can’t. I feel so guilty, it’s not fair on you. To enjoy something you lost…”

Kaneki moved closer and resting his head on your chest, subconsciously listening to your heartbeat. More tears continued falling down his face. You raked your fingers through the familiar raven hair, your heart breaking at the realization of what this is doing to him. He never cries this much.

“It doesn’t matter. Food is too important, if you don’t eat you’ll die. You can’t play around with this.” He hiccuped out. He cringed at how hypocritical his words were, but it was true. Maybe this is what he needed to see it first himself as well.

He pulled away and wiped his tears, trying to calm himself down. He helped you sit up before sitting next to you, then grabbing a bowl of soup on the table next to you.

“Nishiki brought this up for you, please…” Kaneki muttered. And you knew you couldn’t say no.

You took the bowl and carefully took a bite. It was delicious actually. You wondered who made it, because it was clearly home made. You took your bites slow, and you noticed after every one, Kaneki seemed to calm down more and more. The boys were right, you needed to take care of yourself more, this wasn’t the way to go about things.

It’s safe to say afterwards Anteiku started taking care of you. They made sure you had emotional support, that you were recovering well. You and Kimi became close, both in love with a ghoul, both human. She kept you from feeling alone.

Afterwards, Kaneki would always make sure you had eaten. It was a lingering fear that you’d starve yourself again. After being kidnapped by Jason, he did push you away with everyone else. But sometimes, you’d find care packages on your doorstep, with a little note. “Remember to take care of yourself, I love you”.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

[morinuu]

☀︎｜kyouya x female reader x stalker. angst, fluff. WARNINGS: stalking, harassment, mentions of rape, nsfw, death, incest, eating disorders. happy reading!

it was too hot that day. you remember your sweat. a random tuesday, years ago, in june when you walked into your part-time job and before clocking in, your manager called you over.

that summer day, you got fired from a job that deep down you wished to keep. but you didn't react. you didn't frown at that stupid bald, ugly head or argue. you'd known for a while it was going to happen. the management had been firing people and bringing others in for a few months at that point.

all you did in response was shrug at him and signed your name on those stupid papers, for which he didn't even care to change the name from the previous fired woman on. all you said was "that's not my name", and he just wrote your name over it. you struggled not to roll your eyes.

now, however, you were wishing you could go back. but not to your shitty job - back home. you were wishing to twist time and space so your past self fell and broke her leg or something. anything, so you never moved out. a lonely village girl like you should've never crossed the line and leave the nest.

you woke up that morning feeling a bit sick. why did you dream of your old job? well, it didn't really matter. you checked the time and wondered if it was even worth it to make food at that time or if you should just wait till evening. with a frown, you stood up from your uncomfortable mattress and slowly walked to the bathroom.

grabbing your toothbrush, you stared at your skin to look deep at the things you already hated. your bones had been starting to poke at your skin, making your eyes looked bigger, weirder. your lips cracked. the blue hue from your veins made you look sick.

you spit out your toothpaste and stayed over the sink for a few more seconds, processing. suddenly, a thought - 'oh, i should check it, huh..'

the apartment was small, but it was nice for a single person. you'd gotten it with your ex, before his accident. the front door was in the kitchen, which was followed by your bathroom and bedroom. opposite that was a small space you pretended was a living room.

with the keys taken from the top of the fridge, you unlocked the front door and peeked your head outside. nothing. you looked down to see a cardboard box. a shiver ran down your spine.

sometimes, you'd receive gifts by a secret admirer. other times, you'd receive punishments.

you let out a breath and pondered if you should accept it. you took a step back to open your fridge and frowned at the sight.

guess the gift was delivered successfully that day.

before you could close your door, your neighbour came up the stairs to his own place.

"oh! good afternoon miss l/n!" he beamed. you hid your body further in and smiled back.

"hello mr. kyouya! how are you today?" you knew he could probably tell you were in a foul mood, but kyouya ootori was never the modest type.

"i'm great!" he glanced inside your space "oh my... is that another one of those deliveries?" he frowned. his eyes showed obvious pity. you didn't respond, just looked to the side.

ootori sighed. "you know, we should really tell the police about this. i don't understand why you're avoiding it... why do you even accept them?" his frowned deepened and he tried to approach you, only for you to make up some excuse about having to feed your cat and shut the door in his face.

'a cat? really, y/n? that's what you thought of? he's known you for years!' you pitied yourself.

of course he would never understand. he wasn't a bad person or anything, and you'd actually taken a liking to him when he first moved in the complex three months prior. he was attractive - a tall noiret with glasses and thin hands. he often read books on his balcony and you'd wave at each other or even engage in conversation when you'd go hang your laundry. but ootori kyouya was nothing like you.

sure, he was your age and living on his own, but he was well-achieved. with no help from anyone. he'd even shared with you that he moved to a cheaper place because of taxes, but to 'please not tell.'

he wouldn't understand that your admirer fed you from time to time. honestly, you didn't understand it either. it first started with notes at your old job - random ones you'd find in your bag after clocking out. you'd assumed they were by your boyfriend. after a few weeks, you randomly said to him;

'your note yesterday was... hotter than usual. didn't know you could say stuff like that.' you'd smirked at him at breakfast.

'...? a note? what note?'

'one of those you put in my bag all the time, silly!'

back then, you thought he was joking or trying to keep it a secret. you were so happy at the assumption he was thinking of you, that you completely ignored he was not the romantic type. maybe he'd changed.

the notes would get more deranged as time went on. the admirer would try to entertain himself by confusing or scaring you. that damn summer tuesday you got fired? it marked the day he got his hold on your throat and never let go.

notes at work became packages on your doorstep. after that, it was like a game of 50/50. sometimes, he'd throw instant ramen in there with a 'you can do this! ❤︎' note. other times he'd even have beef and eggs for you to make a burger with. you were never poisoned by him or anything, so what was the harm in it? you let your guard down.

until the day came when the box smelled kind of... off. weird. you covered your nose and thought 'maybe he got something expired without realising!'.

upon opening it, you came across a dog. it had began decomposing.

there was no note that day.

you didn't open the next package after that. nor the one after. you didn't even know if it was him or if you were going crazy. weeks had gone by with no packages.

maybe he'd decided to stop? was it over?

just then, the day ootori kyouya moved in came.

"hello there! this was left on my doorstep but i believe 201 is your apartment, yes?" under normal circumstances, his handsome smile alone would've made you blush. but as much as you'd like to stop and stare, the mystery box in his hands ate you up inside.

with no proper introduction, you snatched it from him and shut the door. you would apologise later.

the box contained a newly-bought expensive pan, minced meat, packages of pasta, tuna cans and chocolates, as well as a long apology note. he wrote to you he was sorry, but he thought you didn't like that specific dog, so you'd be glad to see him like that.

'seriously? his excuse is that the dog tried to bite me?!'

he blamed you for the dog's unjust murder. he blamed you for 'the misunderstanding'. did he think you were stupid, or was he just that deranged?

you threw the note away in anger, wiping away your tears at the memory of burying the dog by yourself. you remembered seeing missing posters of him at the neighbourhood park. god, why? why did it always end up like this? why was your fate to experience something good and have it taken away?

taking the pasta packs, you saw some cash hidden underneath. this time, you couldn't stop the sobs from escaping your throat while you counted it.

the day kyouya ootori handed you the package was the day you finally realised you hadn't had an admirer at all, you'd been dealing with a stalker. it's not like anyone else knew, but maybe if they did, if you had just told someone, they would've knocked some sense into you so you'd notice sooner. maybe you'd have gone to the police. maybe.

back in the present, you checked today's delivery. just cash this time, less than the usual.

"shit, this doesn't cover my bills!" you cursed and threw the money to the ground in anger. your stomach was empty, and your hormones all over the place. overdue bills was the last thing you needed. you thought about apologising to kyouya, you didn't like lying to him.

you opened your door again to see his closed. why had you expected him to wait for you? you're not a teenager. you knocked on his door and yelled his name.

"mr. kyouya! are you home still?"

some cluttering noises later, the door opened with kyouya's face looking a bit flushed. you couldn't deny to yourself that you liked the sight.

"i- i just... i wanted to apologise for- y'know... just, sorry." you hanged your head and nervously picked on your wrist.

kyouya glanced at your arm before smiling. "it's all good, don't worry..." he hesitated "are you busy right now? i ... want to talk." he gestured for you to enter his home.

you batted your lashes, nodded, "i'm free" and entered kyouya ootori's home for the thousandth time.

it was not uncommon for the two of you to share a cup of tea together. kyouya liked to feed you, but he clearly wasn't doing a good job. he'd noticed how you'd been getting skinnier. it was unsightly. you knew, he knew, and everyone else would know had you gone outside even once the last three years.

he'd prepared some heavy-calorie sandwiches for you in advance. his table never included sugar - he once said "sugar on an empty stomach such as yours could kill."

he glared at you when you laughed at him for that.

"thank you for the meal kyouya, you don't have to do this each time, you know." you happily bit onto the bread.

"oh, but i do. you know how i feel." he gave you a sad smile.

"if this is about my eating, you know i'm not sick." you emphasised the words, but he only sighed in response.

the two of you had talked about it before - your body. how you couldn't lift your packages with the same ease anymore, or how you'd get lost in thought and forget things all the time. your physical appearance wasn't an easy topic, since you'd throw tantrums over it and deny kyouya's accusations.

he'd sworn he wasn't accusing you of anything, of being sick, but his attempts to help failed, and you'd always get mad. despite all of it however, he never once got mad at you in return. he felt like a dear friend at times, yet never crossed the line into actually being one.

"actually, miss y/n, i wanted to talk about the stalker. please, just please listen, okay?" he placed a hand on your knee, setting fire to your body. "in the time i've lived here, i've noticed a change in you. and i know it's because of him! he's ruining you! so i'm begging you yet again. let's go to the authorities... i promise to stand by you! i'll come with you! i just want to see you get better, and that will be a start!"

before you could answer, kyouya got closer and put his hands on your arms, not caring for the plate in your hands.

"please, i really like you y/n, and i want a chance with you. but you have to get better first."

the honorific drop shocked you quite a bit, enough so you didn't realise how weird kyouya was acting. the composed, calm young man being so desperate was a first.

"i.. what..? wait, you like me? like, like like me?" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

kyouya's faced calmed a bit, "don't ignore what i said" he wiped some mustard off your lips, "i think you like me as well, so i need you to get well."

you surely hadn't expected your little trip to kyouya's house to have you outside of the police station not even an hour later. you didn't really know what to say at first. that you're sure your stalker is somehow connected to your ex's coma? that he has something to do with you not being able to get a job in years, despite your experience? or that he's feeding you, clothing you and paying your rent at the same time?

that you'd become so paranoid of running out of food again that you kept your pantry stocked and your body empty?

or maybe that once in a while, you receive animal corpses in your mail, just to spice things up? to change up the routine?

you'd become so dependent on a stranger, a stalker, someone whom you don't even know, that you're sure you wouldn't be able to survive without the packages.

plus it wasn't like he hurt you. he never entered your home, stole from you, or did the 'usual' stalker stuff. it didn't hurt, so why did it matter?

yeah, sure, he did threaten you and isolate you, but you're alive thanks to him. for that, you were grateful.

kyouya would never get it. nobody would.

so you grabbed his hand and started walking back home.

"y/n? y/n! what is it? why are you-"

"because i'll have nothing without him, kyouya!" you broke down in tears easily this time.

the man you fell in love with just wrapped his arms around you. he didn't speak, what would he even say? he would have wait a little more. he was just hoping it wouldn't be too late by then.

your package the next day was delivered earlier than usual, around 7am. 'why so impatient?' you opened the door and that thing reeked. the stench was just foul, you knew vomit was just waiting to come through later.

you opened the note.

'Just who do you think you are? I've loved you for years and this is how you repay me? I wanted us to get married and have children. So imagine my surprise when I see you're going out with another man! I told you I'd forgive everything but betrayal. I want you faithful. Think of me while you play with yourself tonight, I'll be watching. Maybe I'll come play too, before I deal with the problem. I'll see you soon, dear.'

your blood ran cold. he seemed mad. he was perverted in many messages before, but this was unlike him.

was the 'problem' kyouya? it wasn't like you talked to anybody else. was this a rape threat? you closed the box so you wouldn't die from the cat's smell.

you were definitely going insane. you rang kyouya's doorbell like crazy. you shoved the letter in his face and rambled on frantically about the police.

"y/n, weren't you the one who said we can't report him?" kyouya frowned.

"what...?"

"you've been ignoring my pleas for so long. i'm... i'm just tired. you refuse to accept help. i'm not getting involved in this any further." he removed your hands from his body. "have a good day, i'm going back to sleep."

he shut the door in your face as you stood there in shock. a ringing echoed in your ears. your head hurt. your palms banged on kyouya'd door, ready to take it down.

"kyouya? kyouya! kyouya please open the door! kyouya please! kyouya i'll die! he's going to rape me! i'm going to die kyouya!

HELP ME!"

your bedroom ceiling had a single lightbulb hanging above you. sometimes you would imagine it fall and smash on your head. yeah, that would've been better.

you sat up from your bed and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. it was just a nightmare. you were fine. at least the poor cat lived to see another day.

wiping your mouth, you walked to kyouya's place. 'deep breaths. kyouya is here for you. nobody broke in last night. you can do this.'

you rang the doorbell, 'maybe he was trying to scare me again' but to your surprise, a woman opened the door.

"oh! uh- uhm. sorry, i didn't know kyouya had people over. i'll just, come back. another time!" you stuttered and fumbled your words. the woman went to speak to you, but you'd already jumped back into your apartment.

'a woman? kyouya has a woman? is he engaged? married? why the hell is there a woman in there?'

if you had a healthy brain, you'd see the similarities in their faces before jumping to conclusions and breaking your own heart.

that night, kyouya rang your doorbell instead. truthfully, you were expecting a package and while usually seeing him would be pleasant, it wasn't when you'd spent the whole day weeping over him. he didn't say hello, nor smile. he immediately embraced you.

"i'm sorry, y/n. you're the only one i want. don't leave." under normal circumstances, it would've been funny to point out his shrimp posture when he leaned down to you.

"oh, you think you're really hot don't you?" you giggled and hugged him tight. he just smiled and caressed your cheek, mentally noting the lack of fat there.

"do you want to have a cup of tea with me?" you'd never been more anxious about tea.

for the following weeks, the stalker was awfully quiet. no notes, no food, no money and no pests. at first, you thought it was a punishment week. he knew you almost went to the police, didn't he.

but those weeks turned into months, and your savings weren't going to help. two whole months, no signs of the stalker. kyouya told you to celebrate, and you couldn't hide it anymore, so you shared the past three years with your neighbour/lover. you weren't sure which of the two he was yet.

"so? stay with me." the words flew out of his mouth before he could consider stopping them, "stay and i'll take care of you for as long as you need to heal and get back on your feet."

you sobbed in kyouya's arms for days after moving in with him. from sadness, stress and relief as well. he was feeding you constantly, homemade, fast food, expensive cuisine, all of it. you looked for jobs together this time. he talked about your abilities to his father - who apparently owned some restaurant chain in the country.

soon enough, you landed an interview. "yes! yes. i'm available on monday! yes, at 15:00! i'll see you then. yes, thank you!" you ran into kyouya's arms. it was an entry level job, and you didn't want to get too excited considering your past ghostings, but things were looking up for you.

"i told you you can do it." a kiss on the forehead, "now, come eat your burritos."

a new job. a new home. a fresh star. no packages. you questioned what happened to him, but kyouya told you to forget. 'maybe he died or was arrested or something.'

you gained happy weight. you would go jogging with kyouya. to the grocery store, to church - he wanted to meet your family, but you had to recover first.

you shared multiple nights together, and you whined about him being too gentle, as if you were to break if he was a bit faster. that night you realised you got back the strength to talk back again. you slowly got your personality back.

love was an amazing thing. it was freeing.

life, however, if full of surprises. you were wrong, thinking you could've escaped him. nobody could ever explain to you why crimson blood was soaking the bedsheets. why there was a knife plunged into your chest while kyouya was still rocking inside of you. why you were choking on your own blood, yet kyouya was orgasming at the same time.

"oh my god... thank you baby." kyouya kissed your cheek and took out the knife. you stared at it. the knife you'd gotten for his birthday.

any sounds you made were just more gargles and choking sounds. you couldn't move. why couldn't you move? why couldn't you move?

"i've wanted to do this for so long." he stabbed you again. and again. and again.

you never learnt your body was never found because kyouya the chef was actually a medical student with access to his dad's hospital's freezers. you would never be discovered or avenged.

you weren't sure if your family would be alerted. kyouya had made you so, so isolated after all that time. you wish you would've asked about the woman in his apartment. what happened to her? could you have saved her?

you did know, however, that you would become another statistic. a female voice echoed far away from you, yet so close to you, over your dying body.

"brother, please clean this up."

if you hadn't been choking on blood, you would've vomited from disgust. you knew incest was still around, but this? this was way too pathetic of a death, even for you.

that stupid summer you got fired wasn't your downhill, it was your 'independence'. why did you want to be independent from your parents so badly? because they whined about college majors? god, you were so stupid.

maybe it was what you deserved. a little village girl like you should've never left her nest.

[arcanesword]

i want real love baby

Here is my first submission for @hellcheeranniversaryweek 2025 bingo!

Title: i want real love baby Prompts: Mistaken Blind Date (A3), The One That Got Away(B1), Moving In Together (A1) Name on Bingo Card: Arcanesword Rating: M (Mature)

Content Warning: There is some light smut (doesn't get naked/too graphic but enough for me to rate it M to be on the safe side) and there will also be some mentions of eating disorders as well as mentions of their not so great parents. That said, this is a multi-chapter fic, so these warnings won't apply to all chapters. But I will post a content warning on the chapters where these things will occur.

You can also read this on AO3 which will also have more of my silly little notes and clarifications.😍

“Guess who’s got a date tonight!?” Steve sing-songed just as Chrissy stepped through their apartment’s front door.

She dropped her commuter bag onto the bench by the front door and stared at Steve and his stupid smile that grew into a muppet grin.  A grin that she longed to punch off his face…

“You?” she deadpanned.  Trying desperately to act nonchalant as she pulled off her sensible yet professional shoes and placed them beneath the bench, hoping that she wasn’t the one that was doomed in this narrative.

“No, I don’t have a date,” Steve laughed as he pointed at her with both index fingers, “But you do.”

“What!?”

“You’ve got a blind date, baby!” Robin appeared out of nowhere with her mouth gaping open like Statler while she and Waldorf laughed maniacally.

Damn it!!!  Why did I open my stupid mouth last week and let, “I need to get back out there,” tumble out in front of Robin and Steve!? 

You said it because you were on your third paloma in one hour and you are a cheap, horny drunk, her inner voice reminded her.  The same voice that she hadn’t listened to last week when it told her to slow down and not to order that third drink.  Stupid inner voice…

Even though she had been nearing three sheets to the wind territory that night, the looks on her roommate’s faces after those words unceremoniously tumbled out of her mouth had immediately sobered her up.  But no amount of frantic arm waving and backpedaling on her part could dissuade their matching grins as they said in unison, “I know the perfect guy for you!” and then those two jabbered back and forth about some guy that Steve worked with who they were sure would be perfect for her—a divorced woman in her mid-20s…  okay, mid-to-late-20s… who needed to get back out there—even though she had tried to tell them that it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She was… just too busy to get back out there.  What with teaching and… commuting and… being scared witless at the prospect of meeting a guy and trying to carry on a normal, human conversation with him and then accidentally blurting out something horribly personal.  Not cute or fun personal like I sometimes eat peanut butter with a spoon, but rather scary personal like I have to count my calories to make sure I consume enough each day because I have an eating disorder that I have to manage for the rest of my life…

She had hoped and prayed that those two would get drunk enough to forget what she had said, and she thought that maybe some higher power heard her and had smiled down on her from above since they hadn’t mentioned anything about her blunder since that night.  But tonight, the sight of her roommates gleefully dancing around their living room revealed that in fact there was no god…

“Nooo…” she frowned as her shoulders slumped, “Come on guys, I had so many parent/teacher conferences after school today and I’m tired…”

“Not no, yes!” Steve threw his arm around her shoulders and walked her across their living room and towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms with Robin behind her holding on to the tops of her arms while she giddily hopped up and down as he continued, “You said that you wanted to get back out there and what better night than tonight, a beautiful Friday—”

“But—” Chrissy tried to interrupt but he would not be dissuaded…

“—evening that’s ripe for love—”

“Ew, gross!” Robin’s tone sounded like she’d just tasted sour milk, “Ripe!?”

“Okay, maybe not ripe…” Steve backtracked as he led them along the hallway towards Chrissy’s bedroom, “But it’s still a nice night and you said it yourself that this was what you wanted, to get back out there and meet someone and—”

“But—”

“And there’s no time like the present,” Robin’s voice shook as she continued to hop up and down like a bunny behind Chrissy, “Plus the guy that Steve set you up with is so perfect for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded as he opened up Chrissy’s bedroom door, “He’s nice and good looking and smart and funny and—”

“Oh, and there’s a surprise too,” Robin bounced energetically, “A nostalgic treat that I know that you’re gonna go nuts for.”

“What!?”  What the hell did “nostalgic treat” mean!?!

“Robin!” Steve laser beamed a glare over Chrissy’s shoulder and said through gritted teeth, “It’s a special secret surprise.”

“Whatever,” Robin’s eyeroll was so loud that Chrissy didn’t need to turn her head to see it, “I didn’t say what it was, so…”

He shook his head as he shifted his jaw and let out an exaggerated sigh, “Yeah, well…” then he looked at Chrissy, “Look, he’s a good guy.  Robin’s met him—”

“Yeah, he’s really nice,” Robin stepped closer and rested her chin on Steve’s hand that was on Chrissy’s shoulder.

“Chrissy, you don’t have be his girlfriend or get married…” he gave her wincing smile as if the word “married” might trigger some latent hostility from her, but it really didn’t because she was so over Jason.

She sighed and gave him a tired smile as she told him, “Continue…”

His smile grew at first, but then it faded, and his voice grew thoughtful, “Look, if you really don’t wanna go, you don’t have to but…  This date has zero strings attached and it might be a good first step on getting back out there, getting back on that horse…”

Chrissy could see the sincerity rolling off of Steve.  He was only trying to help.  He'd probably talked her up to this guy until he finally convinced him to go on a date with her.  And Mr. Blind Date was probably at some restaurant or bar right now waiting for her to show up and what kind of crappy friend would she be if she stood up Steve’s work friend…

Plus, maybe… perhaps…  In some realm of possibilities, maybe this one-time Steve and Robin were right.  Maybe this blind date would be a good start for her to get back out there and learn how to date again…

“Okay, I’ll go…” she sighed and then huffed a laugh when Steve pulled her into a side hug while Robin threw her arms around her middle and hugged her from the back.

“Yes!  And I’m telling you this guy is a good guy, and you won’t regret this!” Steve grinned as he let up on the hug, “Now let’s figure out what you’re gonna wear—”

“No!” Chrissy said firmly as she broke out of the hug and turned around to face both of her friends, “I can dress myself—” she quickly held up a finger when Robin took a breath “—so there won’t be any clothing montages happening at any time tonight!”

“You’re no fun,” Robin griped through a pouty frown that matched Steve’s as Chrissy closed her bedroom door behind her. 

“So, tell me about this great guy,” Chrissy said through the door as she combed through her closet, pushing aside hangers on the search for something to wear.  Something that looked nice but definitely said “no one’s getting lucky tonight.”

Steve and Robin talked over one another in the hallway, and she only heard tidbits of their conversation as she pulled out outfit after outfit and held them up to her body as she looked in the mirror.  She heard that he was tall and had long, wavy brown hair—

“No, it’s curly.” “No Steve, it’s wavy.” “No, he cut it, so it’s more curly now”

She also heard that he had a motorcycle, so he’d probably be wearing a leather jacket.  He’s into music so he’d meet her at a karaoke bar in the Castro, and he works with Steve at SFPUC—

“So, he has a ‘shitty’ job too?” “Hey, without people like me working in sewage, we’d all be up to eyeball in shit!” “Okay calm down, dingus…”

And she heard that he liked to ride his motorcycle down Highway 1 and hike and read on his days off.

She held a dark velvet, burgundy rose print dress up in front of her and sighed because she had to admit, this guy sounded okay.  Maybe she wasn’t too excited about the motorcycle aspect but otherwise he sounded nice, and she wondered as she pulled on the dress, “What type of music does he like?”

“Metal,” Steve said at the same time that Robin said, “Grunge.”

“No, he’s into metal,” Steve scoffed, “He likes Alice in Chains and—”

“That’s grunge, dingus—”

Steve made an incomprehensible noise before he retorted, “It’s metal, like Soundgarden and—”

“Also grunge…”

“It’s metal like Pearl Jam!” Steve said firmly and then quickly added, “And if you say ‘it’s grunge’ one more time, I swear to God, Robin, I’ll fist fight you right here in this hallway—”

“And you’d lose,” Robin laughed.

“She’s right about both things, Steve,” Chrissy called out as she pulled on a pair of dark tights and black leather mary janes with a 2 ½ inch heel, “They’re all grunge bands and Robin would totally kick your ass…”

“Well…  he also likes Iron Maiden and shit like that, so… fucking metal…” Steve grumbled through the door.

Chrissy touched up her make up in the mirror to switch from her daytime/school teacher look to a more nighttime look before she opened the door with a smiling, “Ta-da!”

“Nice,” Steve nodded, mirroring her smile while Robin broke down her outfit, “Yeah, good choices.  A-line dress with the hem just above the knee says fun and flirty but the tights say you’re not putting out and the shoes look like you can run in them—”

“I can,” Chrissy nodded.

“Good choices!”

“Thank you,” Chrissy curtsied for her friends before she grabbed her ID, some cash, and her lip gloss off of her dresser and stashed them in a secret pocket on the dress.

Robin gasped as the pair followed Chrissy back out to the living room, “It’s got pockets!?  I love a dress with pockets!”

“I know, right!?” Chrissy pointed at Robin, “There’s not enough dresses with pockets!”

“Exactly,” Robin nodded, “What if I’m going to a concert and I don’t wanna bring a purse!?  Where am I supposed to—”

“Hey,” Steve barked with a grin, “You two save the pocket conversation for later because you gotta move your ass to make it to the karaoke bar, young lady”.

As Steve hurried Chrissy to the front door, he filled her in on the details about the blind date, details like she was supposed to meet him at the karaoke bar that the three of them had been to before on Castro and the guy would be waiting for her at the bar, before he hustled her out the door.

“Have fun storming the castle,” Robin leaned against Steve as Chrissy made her way down the narrow stairs of the converted Victorian from their apartment to the main door.

“Call if you need anything like… if you need someone to kick someone else’s ass,” Steve wrapped his arm around his best friend, “And I’ll send Robin.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes with a smile and waved before she went through the main door and down the dusky streets towards the bus stop.

--

“Wow,” Robin sighed, “I really thought that she’d chicken out and stay home.”

“Yeah,” Steve smiled as he closed the door, “Same here.  But it’s good that she’s getting back out there.  I mean, someone in this household needs to…”

“Yeah…” Robin scrunched up her face as the smile fell off of Steve’s and she thought about how it had been over a year since she and Vicky had broken up and how Steve had been single for almost as long after Nancy left him yet again for Jonathan and maybe they should take their own advice and get back out there but…  “Hey, you wanna watch X-Files?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, “Popcorn?”

“Yeah,” she nodded back as they made their way to the kitchen to get a couple of drinks while Steve popped popcorn and melted butter on the stove top.

After they had settled on the couch and watched the cold open for this week’s episode and as the opening credits played, Robin grabbed a handful of buttery popcorn and wondered, “Did you tell Chrissy to go to the karaoke bar on Castro or the one in the Castro?”

“In… on… what’s it matter?” he said through a mouthful of popcorn, “I told her to go to the one that we’d gone to before.”

“Well…” Robin looked over at her friend, eyes widening with worry, “We’ve been to two in the Castro but only one of the two is actually on Castro…”

“I…” he looked back at his friend, panicky eyes mirroring hers, “The one on Castro is the one with the burrito place next door, right?  I told Derek to meet her at that one since he knew where the burrito place was already…”

“No, the one on Castro has the Thai place next door…”

“Shit!”

“Yeah, no kidding shit!” Robin nodded.

“Fuck, you think it’s too late to catch her?”

“Well, it’s been like 15 minutes, so what you think dingus?”

“Fu—uck!” Steve threw back his head and looked up at the ceiling but then looked at Robin, “Okay, so all is not completely fucked…”

She raised her brow at him to tell him oh no, it’s fucked…

“No, no,” he pointed a buttery finger at her, “When she gets there and he’s not there, she’ll call home to yell at me, and then I’ll tell her I got the place wrong and send her to the other karaoke bar…”

“Okay,” Robin shifted her jaw as she nodded, “Okay, that might work since they’re only like 15 minutes apart.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled nervously, “She’ll go to the other bar and meet Derek and flip out when she finds out that he loves to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ at karaoke and then she’ll be thanking us for the rest of our lives," he looked at the TV and muttered, "God, I hope it's not fucked..."

--

~SFPUC stands for San Francisco Public Utilities Commission.

[smosh-fessions]

this is kind of a hateful ask so feel free to just delete, but i watched guts (angela's short film) and some of the comments kinda disappointed me. it was such a well written, well acted, well directed short film and it was emotional and meaningful! media about eating disorders that's really honest and emotional isn't super triggering is so rare and greatly appreciated! i just hated that there were so many comments just about angela. granted, there's a lot of thoughtful comments and people saying the same thing as i am right now- but there are also a few comments of people being incapable of doing anything but talk about angela and her being on smosh. and it was enough upon initial release for me to notice and be frustrated by.

art is so difficult and this film was a team effort, why do certain fans want everyone to know that they're there mostly for angela and nobody else? does that not feel disrespectful to them? i felt similarly when patrick's short film came out- he and amanda have incredible chemistry and acted off each other with such natural tension and patrick was so menacing, towing the line between kooky and an actual threat. but all some people talked about in the comments and social media was amangela- which was only in the film for like. 5 minutes. yes, it's sweet and kinda gay that amanda wanted angela to be her wife for the film but that's literally such a small part of the film. there were other things going on.

it just frustrates me that when people like angela who are members of really popular groups make art outside that group, the fans of said group can't engage with the art that they're a part of without appreciating all the other people involved or the story being told. i 100% totally understand it- i would not have been served either short film had i not been a fan of smosh in the first place and i'm excited to see the cast members and patrick outside of smosh and especially for them to be so serious and good. but oh my god where is the decorum?

this rant was spurred on by seeing the fact that dan and phil fans (of which i am one) in the youtube comments section did not appreciate the other simmers on the sims anniversary livestream and just spammed dan and phil things the whole time. im begging some of u thst if ur gonna engage with media, pls for the love of god, show some love to everybody involved! it's cute that smosh appreciates the crew as much as they do- so let's keep that same energy for outside projects!! also this isn't critique of angela- she did incredible in both guts and i live in your house! i love her! i am angela giarratanamaxxing as we speak (idk what i mean by that but i am), but more a critique on how certain people engage with media. pls have some decorum, divas!

I agree a million percent. It's fine to leave a comment that you're happy to see more of Angela's talent, but as you said, people act like she (or whoever) is the ONLY person who made it.

It's not done in malice most of the time, I don't think, but that doesn't change the impact it has. I would be disappointed to see no comments on the rest of my film and only comments about one of the actors if I were Margeaux.

The film was wonderful and hit home for me more than I expected it to, and I wish more people took the time to look at these things for what they are as opposed to just a vehicle for more Angela.

This was very well said.

[mrsshabana]

honestly i need a story time about the cult? also the link to that podcast, im intrigued now lol

𝐌𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭

Ok children gather around. It's story time 🤓

Note: Now I won't provide a link because I talk about a lot of personal stuff including my name and location, and I don't want so many people having access to that. But I don't mind telling my story here.

Content warning: Mentions of religious trauma and eating disorders

Ok, so let me set the scene. I was 18 and moved out of my parents' house. I lived in a ghetto apartment near my university where I was studying art.

Now when I moved out my parents stopped talking to me. So I really felt alone, I had no family, no friends, and I was in a new place so I was very desperate to have a connection with someone. So really I was the perfect victim for a cult because I was vulnerable.

One day I was walking out of the mathematics building when a student stopped me and asked me if I would like to read the bible with her. She was a Korean international student and she was really nice so I was like sure why not. Now at this point, I wasn't super religious but I did consider myself a Christian. But I never knew the bible very well and my family was the kind of family that only went to church on easter and Christmas.

So anyway, I read the bible with her and she explained it to me. The way she explained the passage was insinuating that there was a female version of god. That was something I had never heard of before but it was interesting to me so I decided to come with her to her bible study.

Long story short it ended up being this organization called "The World Mission Society Church of God." I went to their church and spent hours with them every Wednesday and Saturday because they made me feel accepted. They welcomed me and became like my family which I didn't have at the time.

Something I really loved about them was that their church was so diverse. There were so many different kinds of people there, I really felt welcome. Because growing up churches seemed so segregated. I'm biracial, my mom is white and my dad is black so growing up we either went to the white church or the black church. And at both I felt like people would stare at me and my family and that I wasn't welcome there.

So it felt really nice to have such a diverse church where I felt truly welcomed. Anyway, I ended up making a lot of friends there and I stayed with them for about 6 months. Then I figured out they were actually a cult. It's a long story but I won't go into it because this isn't even the main part yet.

After leaving the World Mission Society I felt really lonely again because I lost the only friends and sense of belonging I had. But I had to just keep going.

Maybe about 3 months later this random Korean guy approached me on campus and he asked me if I'd like to participate in a survey thing about the bible. I was skeptical at first because my previous church had told me that every Korean person was a part of their church. (Which obviously is NOT true). But my mind was thinking, "Oh no, what if they are trying to get back to me."

But I decided that it's not right to assume that this man is a part of that cult just because he's Korean. So I agreed to participate in this survey and I gave him my phone number.

Basically, a professor was writing a book where she'd answer people's most common questions about the bible. And she was surveying students to collect questions for the book. It sounded pretty cool to me so I was very interested.

I met up with the professor at a Starbucks on campus and I answered her questions about things I've always wondered about the bible. We'll call this lady Anya.

During our meeting, I expressed to Anya how I felt discarded by god because of my previous cult experience. I felt like I wasn't worthy of his love and I was very ashamed of what I did. Because we would literally pray to a human man who claimed to be god. After leaving I knew that wasn't true, and I figured god no longer loved me for what I did.

Anya was so encouraging and kind. She told me that is it 100% untrue, and that god does love me. That he put me through that experience for a reason and it only made me stronger.

Then she offered to do some bible study lessons with me so I could learn things the right way and start to feel a little bit better about my situation. And of course, I agreed. I was desperate to redeem myself and make friends again.

So I started going to this bible study once a week. Which turned to twice a week. Which turned into me going to some woman's house to have lessons. We'll call this woman Cara.

Cara was from Korea and so was her husband, they were extremely nice and welcomed me into their home. They would feed me ramen and cool snacks, and I honestly felt like a part of their family. There were lots of people in this bible study too and I made a ton of friends.

So fast forward, I had been studying the bible with them for about a year now. And nothing crazy, I was learning about the parables of the bible and the meanings of all those things in the bible that make no sense. It was very informative and interesting but nothing outlandish.

They sit us down for this big "reveal" about who the 2nd coming of Jesus is. Now they hyped it up so much and they told us that we can't judge this person no matter what. This whole time I thought it was going to be someone crazy like Kanye West or something. But no, it was an old Korean man.

He seemed unassuming enough? I had never heard of him so I didn't know why they made such a big deal out of it.

Now at this point, you are probably thinking, "Why the hell would you fall for this again?" Listen, trust me I was frustrated with myself when I left but you have to understand these people love-bombed me when I had no one. They became my family when I had none. They lied to me for an entire year so I'd trust them and get close to them before they revealed who they really were.

And they were a church called Shincheonji.

And I had no problem accepting this because these people had been my family and my best friends for an entire year. They'd feed me, watch movies with me, do anything to help me out. So I trusted them wholeheartedly. But really I was just being brainwashed.

So after I found out that they were Shincheonji they put me in their group for advanced students. And I'd begin studying multiple times a week at Cara's house and Anya was always there too. I would join the twice-weekly sermons via zoom as well. Where one of the Korean tribe leaders would give a sermon about something. I was in the Mathias tribe by the way, though that doesn't really matter.

I would do so so much with them, we even all went on a road trip to Houston where the other branch was. They even got me a birthday cake and surprised me for my birthday too. It was honestly great, and I loved them a lot.

We were basically encouraged to recruit as many people as we can because if we don't they will go to hell. They put so much pressure on us for this. They'd say things like, "Don't you want to save them?" And I am a very empathetic person so I felt like omg I want to save everyone! But on the other hand, ever since I joined Shincheonji my anxiety and depression went through the roof. The pressure to save the entire world is a lot for a 21-year-old girl. So I never recruited anyone myself because I didn't want them to have to struggle with the same mental health issues I did when I joined.

I also had some physical health issues arise as well. Their teachings would always preach how "The word of god is all the food we need." How spiritual food was more important than physical food. And that really stuck with me, especially when I got food poisoning and I couldn't eat solid food for two weeks. Something about not eating made me feel good. Like I didn't even need food because the word of god was enough, so why not just not eat at all? Not eating felt like the only thing I could control, so I clung to it. And I became anorexic. Being with Shinchenji was the only time I was ever considered underweight.

Anyway, I have so many crazy stories to tell about my time with them but I'll save those for another day.

I had been with them for about two and a half years before I started to question things.

We got a new teacher from Korea to replace Cara because she was going to have a baby. And this new teacher was a lot different and a lot less loving and nurturing than Cara had been.

She had said some things that I didn't agree with, and it started putting some doubt in my mind.

Ok so, on a side note I used to work at the library at my school doing data entry in the basement. And I would listen to podcasts a lot throughout the day as I did my work.

One day I found an interesting podcast about cults, where the host would bring cult victims onto the show and they'd tell their story. Well I was listening to an episode about the Moonies and I thought to myself, "Huh, they sound very similar to Shincheonji in some ways..."

But I knew I could not think such thoughts and that if I did any research then the devil would poison me through the internet. And I needed to strengthen my spirit for even thinking of such a thing.

So I went to reddit, and I found a subreddit called r/Shincheonji. I was like, "Oh yes! Now I can talk to other Shincheonji members and we can strengthen each other's faith!"

But it wasn't a subreddit for believers. It was a subreddit for ex-members and people who were against Shincheonji.

And at this point, I had already seen enough to plant that seed of doubt in me. I read more and more even though Shincheonji warned me I'd be poisoned if I ever researched them. But I couldn't stop myself.

I went through so much inner turmoil, you guys have no idea. My reality was crumbling so hard and I felt like my world was ending. It's hard to explain, but I was so indoctrinated and brainwashed by this point. This really ruined me.

I had to mourn the loss of all of the family and friends I gained these past years. I would cry almost every night because I missed them, and it was so hard to accept that they never truly loved me at all. To be honest, I still think about some of them to this day and I hope they got out and found peace in their lives.

No one in my life had known I was a part of Shincheonji. My closest friends nor my family, who had slowly started talking to me again. But I had to tell someone so I told my childhood best friend, we'll call him Blaine.

I got in a Playstation party with Blaine and I just cried. I cried so so much, and he was so confused. But eventually, I told him everything. And he was really supportive and gave me no judgment at all.

My main issue was, how could I leave? I have quite literally been living a double life this entire time and not having that scared the shit out of me. But Blaine advised me to cut them off completely and just leave without saying anything. Because his concern was that if they got the chance to talk to me, they would most certainly be able to pull me back in. And I know them well enough to know this is true. So that's exactly what I did, I left and went cold turkey. I even went as far as changing my work schedule too.

And here's where things get creepy.

I hadn't spoken to them for about a week now, and I'm at work. I'm working as usual in the basement on the computers and low and behold, three girls walk in. Girls from my cult, girls that I was close to.

Now students aren't allowed to just waltz into this room so they had some big balls to do that. But the weird thing was, I had completely changed my schedule and I was working on a day I normally had off. They should have had no idea I was there.

But here they were, holding a large cup of boba from my favorite place. And in my favorite flavor too, winter milk cap with mango popping bubbles.

They came up to me and said, "Hey girl, we noticed you haven't been coming to worship lately. Is everything alright?"

I said, "Oh uh yeah everything's fine! I've just been super busy with work and a ton of projects for class..."

"Ok, well we got this for you," they handed me the boba, "We were hoping to talk to you. We can wait for you outside and talk to you when you get off."

I started panicking so I said, "My mom is actually picking me up as soon as I get off so I won't be able to, I'm sorry! Maybe another time though, I'll text you."

They were convinced by my response so they left. And boy did I RUN so fucking fast after I got off work. I even called Blaine so he could talk to me in case they came after me, but luckily they didn't and I got home ok.

He started yelling at me for drinking the boba saying, "YOU IDIOT! THEY PROBABLY POISONED IT!"

But hey, free boba is free boba.

Anyway, after that event I knew I had to text that girl and tell her I was deciding to leave Shinchenji because I didn't want them to show up at my job again or follow me around.

So I texted her, trying to be as nice as possible and explain to her that I just couldn't do it anymore. I told her how this affected my mental health and my physical health. How I developed an eating disorder from being in Shincheonji too.

Her response was really rude and condescending. She said my mental health issues and my eating disorder were my fault and the work of satan trying to blame them. She told me that once I leave I can never be accepted into heaven, that I'm damning myself to hell as well as all of my family members. I'll be honest, she made me feel incredibly guilty and selfish for leaving. Their teachings were still ingrained in me. But I knew that I could never return after everything, so I blocked her and never spoke to her again.

Oh yeah and that book the professor was writing in the beginning, that wasn't real and she wasn't a professor. It was just a ruse to lure students in.

I will admit I could never get their teachings out of my head. And to this day, even though I know they were wrong, a part of me believes I am going to hell for what I did and all of my family will suffer because of me. So now I can't even look at a bible, and I no longer consider myself religious.

And after this experience, I reached out to that cult podcast that helped me realize I was also in a cult, and I got an episode of my own where I got to tell my story.

So yeah haha that's my story!

Today only my close friends know, and I never told my parents. They still have no idea and honestly, I don't know if I will ever tell them.

I'm still really plagued by a lot of things they did, and my worldview has never been the same. My life has never been the same. But I've been cult free for about 2 years now so I'm just taking it one day at a time.

I'm sorry this was so long. But if you read the whole thing I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading my story. And if you are a college student, please be careful because cults like this are rampant on college campuses, especially in the U.S.

After leaving the cult, I needed something to obsess over, something to make me feel normal. And that was Gyutaro! And I gotta say, obsessing over him is much healthier than obsessing over the teachings of a cult.

Anyway, I want you all to know that this blog has been an escape for me and helped me to feel normal again after this experience. And I don't need a cult to make me feel loved anymore. Because I have all of you :)

[ashwhowrites]

oh would you write about eddie x girlfriend reader whos recovering from an eating disorder & he’s on full support and comfort. today she decided to let eddie have control over what she eats for the day. at some parts (maybe like bread with chocolate or some snacks) she starts getting overwhelmed & cry’s & he’s there, comforting her, giving her head/forehead kisses, holds her hands, talks to her & eats with her, so she doesn’t feel alone.

and i would really like to read more about wayne, so maybe the next day she asks wayne to decide what she’ll eat today & he’s really excited to be there for her & help her in such progress. both munsons comfort her & she’s so thankful!<3

I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

⚠️ mentions of ED

Recovery

Y/N was recovering from an eating disorder, trying every day to move one step forward. It was hard to do on her own, so her boyfriend vowed to help her every step of the way. Which he did. Eddie was so patient and supportive, she never felt that before.

She wanted to give herself a small challenge to push her further. She asked Eddie to pick what she'd eat throughout the day and he was so excited to help her. He immediately agreed with a huge smile and began to work on his list.

"Breakfast is served," Eddie announced, proudly placing the plate in front of her. He sat down next to her in his chair, with a plate for him as well.

Y/N looked down at the toast covered in Nutella, overwhelmed by the thick spread. She felt tears welling in her eyes but tried to remain calm. Eddie placed his hand on hers and squeezed it.

"We'll go slow. Just breathe. Here I'll even cut it in half and we will start with that." He said, using a knife as he cut the toast in half, taking a piece and throwing it on his plate.

"Not as scary, right? Just half the toast. We'll do the first bite together." Eddie said, picking up his toast as he held it in his mouth. She looked at him as she slowly picked up the toast. Both take a bite.

"That's my girl!" Eddie cheered as she swallowed the first bite. Eddie pressed a chocolatey kiss to her forehead.

"Ew Eddie!"

~~~

For lunch, Eddie decided on sandwiches. His sandwich was loaded with turkey, ham, cheese, lettuce and tomatoes. She felt herself getting overwhelmed as he placed down his plate.

"No worries, baby. You get the most spectacular sandwich combination out there!" She smiled when he placed down peanut butter and jelly, the bread cut into a heart.

"And if you want some, no pressure, some grapes." A small bowl of grapes is placed between them.

Eddie slowly ate with her, taking small bites as she ate. He made sure they always finished eating at the same time so she didn't feel pressured to eat faster.

Just like breakfast, he walked her through it, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead when she finished.

~~~

After dinner, Y/N felt very proud of herself. And Eddie reminded her just how proud he was.

The next day, they were visiting Wayne. Y/N thought why not let Wayne decide what she eats for the day?

Wayne was just as excited as Eddie, she laughed at the resemblance. Wayne didn't eat well-balanced meals as it was, so she had a feeling he'd pick the most random things.

And he did.

She had a day filled with snacks and not meals. But she liked it.

"Wayne, she's not eating cookies for lunch!" Eddie scolded him, but Wayne brushed him off.

"I think the girl wants cookies, maybe milk?" Wayne asked, Y/N lit up at the idea.

"Oh my gosh, yes!"

Eddie groaned as Wayne and Y/N sat close on the couch, both diving into the cookies.

"Grab the milk will ya?" Wayne asked through a mouthful of cookies. Eddie looked at him with a disapproving look but grabbed the milk anyway.

Dinner happened to be tomato soup, something Eddie approved of this time.

"I'm proud of you, kid. Just remember that." Wayne said as they prepared to leave. Y/N smiled at his words, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

Some days would be harder than others, but at least her boys were always there to help.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[tia-amorosa]

Episode 1: unmotivated (Part 1)

Bridgewood

A warm breeze is blowing over the city this morning. It has been a little colder than usual over the last few days. This was probably partly because spring was coming to an end. Now summer has finally arrived and it is no longer permanently cold in the trailer. "Meow?"

("Forget it, you won't get any of it. Instructions from your mom. Oh man, why did that thing have to appear in front of our house of all places? I didn't have a chance to say no. As soon as anything with four paws stands in front of her, my opinion is superfluous. I hope she's feeling well today. it's been over half a year now and she's still struggling with it…").

“Meeoow!”. ("My God, that's good, here you go … But don't tell her anything, OK? I'm still wondering how she came up with the name Gumball… Probably because he's overweight. But it's not from eating too much, some kind of metabolic disorder, she said. By now she knows her way around really well, but… Shit, I wish she hadn't larded so much at university").

("She actually wanted to make it, but studying was more difficult than she had expected. It was actually her dream, but it fell through. And then we realized that Anne Arbor wasn't for us. They provided us with the houses, but the social atmosphere there was simply poisonous. Fortunately, the others came here with us).

("And now we've been here for a few weeks, in Bridgewood. It's a relatively quiet area with lots of greenery. The people here are okay. We haven't made any new friends here yet. But luckily the old ones have stayed with us. I've got the hang of the waffles by now, And I've got two days off now, Monday it's back to the machines").

("The waffles are ready and Lis? Hn…She likes to sleep in late, hates being woken up too early. She quickly got used to being at home. At home… We had imagined it differently, but this trailer was simply the best thing for us to start with. Her mother had offered to let us stay with her in the house for the first few months… But neither she nor I wanted to do that.") / ”I know that you don't sleep anymore..“.

Lisa looked at him just one eye. It was true, she had been awake for a while, woken by the sweet smell of freshly baked waffles. Then she stretched the sleep from her body and slowly sat up. “You could have stayed in bed a little longer, VJ…"/ ‘I can't if the hangover is making a fuss and wants to go out’.

She looked at him briefly and had to smile a little. “You should know him a bit by now. He goes outside every morning, catches something and then brings it in"/ ”I guess he didn't catch anything this time. Would you like to visit your parents today?” She shook her head. “hh, o.k."/ ‘Come back to bed, huh?’. He tilted his head slightly and smiled with just one corner of his mouth. “And the waffles?"/ ”Can wait.”

VJ looked back for a moment and glanced into the living room. The cat had just curled up on the floor, which gave him the certain feeling that he would certainly not touch the plate of waffles on the counter. He was too well behaved for that. He just begged tirelessly until he got something. “hh, you make me so weak, Lis"/ ”I know…” …

One of the basic human needs is to procreate. But VJ and Lisa were far from thinking about planning a family. They have always been too cautious for that. After finishing school and arriving in their new home, they made sure they had enough condoms in the house. For them, sex was still the greatest pleasure they could have.

------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover , @solorisims , @plumbobgothica Please let me know if it's still okay to be tagged. :)

NOTE: Now Here we have the beginning of the sequel to Sunset Died. Let's say it takes place one to one and a half years later. The young people have grown up, have started their vocational training... Only Lisa hasn't really got herself together yet.

NOTE 2: When taking screenshots with GShade, I have to be careful that the stupid name tags aren't visible on the Sims^^^^. Unfortunately, I didn't notice it until too late. It will happen again in the next part, but from this point on I made sure to first take the mouse off the Sims and then take a picture. 😂😁

[dogydayz]

Hello there! So I was looking at Sonic headcanons, and I’ve seen some people headcanon Sonic with neurodivergent tendencies like ADHD and such. Any personal headcanons with Scourge’s specifically? I feel like if he did had any, since he didn’t grow up with even basic acknowledgement from his father, a lot of his needs wouldn’t be met and thus develop unhealthy habits/coping mechanisms. Your thoughts on how his environment could’ve affected him as well?

Finally getting around to answering these I never even noticed I got asks! I'll talk specifically abt my interp of Scourge here, but some of this easily works for base canon too.

In my interps and backstory I've gone with for him, his dad wasn't actually bad, HOWEVER the person who truly caused the issues (Maxx) was extremely neglectful and outright abusive toward him (and emotionally manipulated and abused his father as well, under the guise of 'mentoring' him.). As a result, he very much has CPTSD from it, as well as very severe attachment issues (which I tend to write as a parallel to Fiona's own issues. In almost all of my work that isn't intended to be rather dismal, they work thru many of those troubles together. Their really REALLY strong passion for things and a want to actively defy the shit that's torn them down is part of why they're so willing to actually try to change themselves if it means getting a happy ending together. Also, they LOVE to spite folks who expected them to fall apart really fast.)

ANYWAY! Alongside this, my Scourge actually ends up with an eating disorder due to being back around Maxx while in prison, who basically uses the same methods of hurting him when he was a child to keep him under his own control, which included starving him basically aside from food he specifically would give him (which Scourge later would purge from himself as an act of defiance. An idiotic act, but still. It's understandable considering the sheer amount of stress he was going through at that time.)

I also project a shitload of my ADHD and OCD onto him, like an insane amount. He regularly deals with rather severe intrusive thoughts related to his past actions, effectively trying to pull him back in old unhealthy habits. I've also projected a lotta my old trichotillomania struggles onto him during his time in prison (in my interps, he was there for a year, and the rest of the gang ended up there half-way thru, so they were there for half a year.) He tends to have a lot of self-destructive habits, and also pretty serious dysmorphia that had pushed him to trying to transform himself in the first place.

Yes, almost all of my interps have some form of healing or 'good ending' for him. No, I don't give him a redemption arc so much as I do a healing arc. He never wants to be some 'hero', he still loves to fuck around and steal shit and start fights, but he does, in a way, improve, simply by fighting to actually have something that truly has brought him fulfillment..... Which are the people he has with him now.

I think it's pretty clear even in the comics that he's a mess. He overcompensates for shit, he's truly pathetic deep down, and the moment someone fights with words rather than fists he has a breakdown. Archie Comic Sonic is genuinely confident in his own capabilities, it would only make sense that Scourge isn't... But I also don't think he has to be completely doomed. He's meant to be like 18 at the end of the comics (mine is 19 in my interps), he's a teenager with absolutely zero good influence in his life, from a world that seems to have violence as a baseline for surviving. I know if I hadn't've had a good support system as a kid I would've ended up really fuckin' bad and I'm a normal person in a world where fantasy shit DOESN'T exist lmao.

anyway these are just my thoughts.

[slutforreginageorge]

But I am looking at you

Warning: Angst, mention of eating disorder and depression

Ship: Regina x Janis

Angst

Summary: there is a new student in school and everyone seems to love her

————————————————

Janis was enjoying her Wednesday, it was normal like every other she had her art period, biochem and math —okay the math part was less joyful but she was able to she a friend of hers. She currently found herself at lunch, having just sat down and now leaning against her girlfriend who was rubbing little patterns into her thing while eating her cheese fries.

Their friend group was quietly chatting, Janis did not feel like listening since it was nothing to important to be listening.

The brunette was starting to drift off into a soft slumber, when she felt Regina shift under her head and seconds later Cadys voice, telling them about her new friend. Janis opened her eyes and looked up just to be meet with a way to exited Cady and next to her a tall brunette.

“Everyone this Claire, she is in my AP calc class,” Cady was a moment away from vibrating from excitement. Damian was the first to speak, introducing himself the rest follow. Janis could feel Regina pushing her away slightly, first she shook Janis off her shoulder then she moved her hand away from the smaller woman’s leg and all in all she pushed Janis an inch or two away from her, just to the introduce herself. Janis eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Regina barely acted this way and if she did there would be at least something touching just to reassure Janis every thing was fine. But right now it did not seem like Regina did it by accident. The blonde straightened her back and smiled at Claire, it was not the smile she would give Janis but it was still big and showed off her dimples.

When Janis wanted to speak up, Damian stepped in “Soooo, Claire what do you do? How come you are at this school you seem new!” Claire shit her a tight lipped smile and went to answer the mans questions.

“Well I am new here I previous was at western high but wanted to transfer because the math and art Programm is better at north shore. Which leads to what I do. I sketch every now and then and I ride horses!” Janis perked up at the word sketch but the sulked back into her seat when Claire mentioned riding, Janis did not mind that the girl rode horses, it just made her even more perfect and the fact that her own friends and especially girlfriend were fanning over her did not help. “Janis dread as well,” Gretchen threw in. “Really that’s so cool, Mandy we will see each other in art,” Claire smiled revealing her perfect with teeth, Janis just nodded not daring herself to smile suddenly insecure about her teeth.

“Claire do you have a picture of something you drew,” Cady smiled still way to exited about this for Janis’s liking.

The tall brunette nodded and toke her phone out and show some pictures.

“Wow, Janis this is like wayyy better than any of your art, it does seem like the only good thing you can do is light a fire,” Damian laughed and Janis felt something in her gut clench, why the fuck would he say something like that, the rest of the table laughed as well and Janis suddenly felt very out off place.

Lunch went by the same and Janis just wanted for it to end. Math was good she was happy that she got once understood, she was optimistic about her afternoon since Regina and her would meet up and spent some time together, so when she stepped out of the school she was surprised that Regina was not in sight and with that her car. Janis waited for some time thinking that maybe Regina’s class was running late or she was dropping their friends off and then returning to pick up Janis.

Regina never came, Janis made her way home, she checkt her phone just to see no notifications, besides one from her mother telling her she would not becoming home till late at night. Janis thought about texting Regina about whether or not their were still on for later. She decided she would do it when she go home.

By then she still hadn’t heard anything from Regina or her other friends which just made the feeling in her gut tighten.

Jay <3: hey we still up for later?

Gina baby: absolutely, why wouldn’t we be?

Jay <3: just wanted to make sure, I’m gonna get ready

Gina baby: okay, want me to pick you up?

Jay <3: no, I’m good. See you :*

The feeling eased up after she texted the blonde but she couldn’t help but still feel like something was up.

When she got to the blonds house she made sure to text Regina and the to Ring the bell.

“Why do you ring the bell as well, when I already texted you that I will be down in a sec?” Regina asked as she opened the door, kissing her girlfriend before letting her in.

“I don’t know, more fun i guess,” Janis smiled, even though she was not sure if it was a genuine smile. Regina was still being weird or at least there was some weirder tension surrounding them and it made Janis feel a little bit uncomfortable and confused.

“You want something to eat, you didn’t eat at lunch today.” Regina did not seem to pick up on the tension surrounding them, Janis nodded and they made their way to the kitchen where Regina made them some snacks, afterwards they settled n Regina’s bed. The small artist made herself comfortable, feeling some weirder need to cuddle but she did not want to seem clingy or anything like that so she waited for her blond girlfriend to initiate it.

They sat in silence while, Regina picked out a movie on her laptop.

Janis looked around the room suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the familiar surroundings, it was weird and Janis did not like it at all. It seemed to her that she was making things weird and if Regina was not picking up on the tension there probably was non.

“Jay, baby?” The soft voice of her girlfriend ripped her out of her thoughts, Janis flinched a a bit when she felt a hand on her thigh.

“Babe, are you sure everything is alright, you seem of,” there was concern lacing her voice and it made Janis feel sick first Regina was weird when Claire was introduced to them — nearly flirting with her— and then she did not wait for Janis after class ended and now Regina asked if every thing was alright.

“Why did you not wait for me after class? I came out and you were not there and your car as well,” Janis was playing with her rings, nervous tick she did not seem to be able to let go.

“Oh well, I didn’t know we were driving together after school today and besides Claire did not have a ride home so I offered.”

“Regina you drove me to school today, I thought that meant we would be driving back together as well and besides I did not have a ride home too, you know.”

“Janis it’s a god damn ride home, you don’t need to be jealous now!” Regina was getting irritated and it was confusing Janis even more, had she done something wrong.

“No, you are right. It’s silly, what do you think about Claire anyway?” Janis did not feel like fighting right now, already feeling somewhat like crying and if they would fight now it would probably lead to a panic attack.

“Claire? OMG, she is so cool and they way she is good at math and draws so well it’s amazing, she is generally so smart and have you seen her figure she has like the perfect summer body.”

Janis felt even more like crying after her parents rant about the new girl.

“Yeah she seems nice, so what do you want to watch?”

They were halfway through the movie they were watching, still not cuddling and the small brunette even felt like Regina hade moved even further away from her.

Regina was phone started to ring, Gretchen’s caller ID showing on the screen.

“Gretch, what’s up?” Regina shot Janis an apologetic look and stood up to talk to Gretchen in private.

“Yes, I like Claire she is amazing. You know if shit ever ended between Janis and I, I would most definitely take her,” Regina spike and Janis felt like she was about to throw up, it really was the only full sentence she had picked up from their conversation and it made her gut clench and tears brim her eyes.

Janis stood up packing her things to leave, before leaving a message to Regina that she had to go home because her mom wanted her to do some stuff around the house. What Janis did not know was that this would probably be the last time she would be seeing Regina outside from school.

Over the next few weeks the whole friend group would sort of ignore Janis not just in school, also she it came to the group chat and if something was written in their someone would always text that they would ask Claire if she wanted to hang out as well and if Janis would ask if someone had time to hang out it would always be `sorry Jan don’t have time’ or `maybe be another time’.

To Janis it felt the exact same way as when she had the down fall with Regina in sixth grade and her and Damian had not really been friend yet.

Her breaking point was when she had to go to the mall to get some stuff for her mom and new art supplies, she had found her friend group I couldn’t Claire in their favorite hangout spot after all of them said they had some family thing to do or needed to do stuff for school. It was when it hit her that Claire was all the things she was not. Claire was funny, did not say stupid fucking shit , she in general was incredibly smart and talented, she always knew the right thing to say. All in all Claire was tall brunette hat the most perfect body and face, she was pretty.

when the artist got home she laid in bed, she once again felt like that sixth grade kid who had just been outed in front of the whole school by her best friend and then had lit her backpack on fire.

Her mom noticed her weird behavior, the way Janis would stop doing everything except school and Training. She had stopped painting and stitching, going to gymnastics tracing instead and consternating at school more. Janis stopped talking as much as she did before and she stopped eating regularly as well sometimes going days without eating, sitting alone at lunch again or with her other friends and no one of her friends noticed her absence.

She had hopes when her birthday came around that everything would change, it did not. When the day came, her mom was away having a 48 hour shift at the hospital and non of her close friends texted or even spoke to her in weeks almost month. Jans cried feeling like it really was all her fault, that she was not as good as Claire was and that she deserved all of this. She had the urge to self harm more and more often past few days, she did not do it but she did work out even more and ate even less.

It was the day that she collapsed from exhaustion and stress, that she was able to see Regina again. Janis had collapse right after gym class, she was brought in to the nurses office and Regina was called to bring her home since Janis’s mother was not answering.

“Ms. George I suggest that you stay with her and make sure that she eats and sleeps enough. She is not hurt or anything but it seems like she hasn’t eaten in a while and sleep does also not seem like her first priority.” Regina nodded turning around to look at Janis who seemed even small now.

The care ride was silent and remained her of the way her mom had drove her home after she had lit Reginas backpack on fire, there was tension around them and it was thick. Regina did not seem mad more disappointed or annoyed that she had to drive Janis home now and then look after her and it was the exact same tension as with her mom years earlier.

Regina did not look at her once and Janis wanted her to look at her again the same way had looked at her just a few months ago ago when everything was fine and Claire was not at their school.

Janis wanted to scream and cry and hit Regina have the blonde tell her that they are fine and that she es not mad or annoyed or disappointed for not eating or sleeping, but they were not fine. Janis sat on her bet waiting for Regina to return with the food was said she was going to make.

“Eat and do not tell me you are not hungry because we both know you have not eaten in several days,” Regina’s tone was harsh Janis tried to find something soft in her words but there was none. She nodded not darting herself to speak.

Her girlfriend—Janis didn’t even know if they were still in a relationship— sat on her desk looking around the room while Janis ate. The brunettes room looked different the blond noted, more clean and less Janis that she had remembered it to be.

“Janis you want to tell me why you collapsed?”

“You already know why, so why bother asking,” her voice was horse from not speaking for a long period of time.

“Because it want to hear it from you, I want to hear from you that you started to starve yourself again or maybe I want to hear from you that this is all just a sick joke and you collapsed because you did not drink enough!”

“Fine Regina! I did not eat, I also did not sleep in days. Okay?!”

“But why Janis, Why?” Regina was begging and somewhere something in Janis’s gut clenched out of guilt.

Janis looked down at her hands not knowing what to say.

“Jay, i want to know what’s wrong so I can help you.”

“And I want you to stop pretending like we are fine, like we haven’t talked in months and none of you guys remember my birthday or incited me to any of your party’s. Regina I want you to look at me,” Tear were streaming down Janis’s face ad she tried to wipe them away not wanting regina to see them.

“Janis, what do you meant look at you? I am looking at you.”

“Yeah you are looking at me but your are looking at me the same way you are looking at ou- your friends, I want you to look at me like you still love me and tell me that I am still your girlfriend and that you are not mad at me for self harming again or thinking about committing, base none of you really care anyway. But instead you look at Claire with those eyes you look at her and a you she is all the things she is that I am not.”

“Janis, any that is not true. I am not mad at you or annoyed and least of all disappointed. I am sorry i stopped talking to you and That I stopped looking at you in general,” Regina rushed over to Janis’s bed hugging her and Janis hugged Regina so hard fear she might disappear.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine”

“No it’s not Janis, not at all. I still love you okay. Janis you really are my whole world and don’t know what I would do if you committed suicide.”

They laid down cuddling, Janis on top hugging Regina like her life depended on it.

“Stay?” She whispered in to the blonde’s neck.

“Oh my love I am not going any where any time soon.”

Nothing was fixed by then but Regina made Janis eat more and she had a word with their whole friend group about this and in the end it seemed like Claire had it all done on purpose.

————————————————

That’s it, hope you like it. I Kinde hate myself now and I do not think I should read or write any more angst.

Feedback and requests always welcomed :)

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Prompt: Evie in the hospital after Alex's OD, when he wakes up.

Feeling some kind of insane about this

Triggers: overdose, hospitals. Discussions of suicide attempts, drug & alcohol abuse, overdoses, eating disorders, sexual abuse, childbirth (lmk if there are any I should add)

Evie would never forget the day that Alex was born.  August 1st, a month before his due date, Finn had moved in with she and Theo and exactly two weeks later, Evie’s water broke.  Cordelia had been a shockingly easy birth: her water broke with an excruciating contraction and four uncomfortable hours later, she was holding her baby girl.  The nurses said that little Cordelia was ready to be born, and had made her demands known and really, nothing had changed in the twenty-three years since.  But where Cordelia had been as easy as labour could be, Alex had been her polar opposite.  The first contractions hit just after midnight on August 14th, and after an embarrassingly long time worrying about whether or not she should tell Finn – it could be a false alarm, she had told Theo, who’d only reminded her that Finn would still want to know and dote on her until the pain passed – she was brought to the hospital just after one in the morning.

Twenty five hours unbearable hours later, she had a son.  A perfect, precious baby boy.  She’d stared down at him, asleep on her chest after his very first meal, and all she could see was Finn.  Bright blue eyes, even though she knew that not all babies kept their blue eyes, the tiniest hints of blond hair; she knew that he was too fresh to really be able to tell who he took after, but she still saw it.

She’d never been able to explain how she felt, at that point.  More exhausted than Finn or Theo could ever understand – though Blair did, and Tinsley would soon – in a body that didn’t feel like hers, staring down at this perfect little boy and feeling… she didn’t know.  Even now, she didn’t know.  But it wasn’t dissimilar to what she felt now, twenty two years later, looking down at her baby boy in a hospital bed.  More love than she could ever hold in her body and at the same time, complete emptiness, a grief that didn't belong but wouldn't leave her.

Finding Alex had been the worst moment of her life.  Which was saying something, she had a lot of particularly awful moments to choose from, but none would ever come close to that horrific Sunday morning.  She’d known that Alex had been pulling away from his siblings – both her kids and Finn’s, as much as that thought still stung – but he’d promised her that he would be at brunch.  It was supposed to be a celebration, though she hadn’t told anyone what they were celebrating yet: she’d just booked her dream role on Broadway, the one she'd been working towards since, well, since she got pregnant with Connor, and for the first time in months, everyone was in available.  The twins and Grace still lived at home, Connor was still in the city, Cordelia was back from her latest trip, and both Finn and Theo had confirmed that they would be in town that weekend and at brunch on Sunday.  It had taken a bit more work to get Alex to agree but at the end of the day, he’d never been able to say no to his mom.

Which was why she’d gone to his apartment in the first place.  Alex hadn’t shown up.  Maybe he was late. Punctuality was only a talent when it suited him, and he was probably sleeping off a wild night.  Which was fine, she wasn’t worried.  But then fifteen minutes turned to thirty, and thirty turned to sixty, and something was wrong.  Connor had only rolled his eyes, saying that Alex had made it clear he didn’t care to be a part of their family anymore.  Cordelia said he was probably still fucking whoever he’d picked up the night before – crass, but not unreasonable.  Finn said he probably changed his mind, was too hungover, found something better to do, or maybe just hated Finn more than he loved Evie.

But Evie knew her Rockwell boys.  She remembered her own time in and out of Ostroff, remembered almost losing Theo that terrible Thanksgiving, remembered every time Tinsley brushed her off for another party or a night with Rex.  She remembered Finn.  Every time he’d tried to push her away, all four trips to rehab, when he’d disappeared after her wedding only to come back with an ex-wife and a step son.  Rockwell boys might blow off everyone else, but not her. Usually not her. Something was wrong.

So she’d gotten in her car, sat in the backseat calling Alex over and over and over again while her driver broke every law – suggestion; it was New York after all – to get her to his apartment in record time.

And somehow, just barely in time.  The details were a blur, calling Finn and 911, racing to the ER, rattling off medical information as fast as she could breathe, calling Theo and Cordelia and begging them to please not tell the others until they knew more.  She didn’t want to remember that.

But the gut-punching horror when she found her son, her precious baby boy, more than half dead in his own vomit? She would never forget that feeling for as long as she lived.

She wondered if that was how Finn had felt, almost thirty years ago, when she’d called him from her own bathroom floor, half dead and fading quickly, begging him to apologize to Lily for her, for drinking all of her best liquor and raiding her medicine cabinet. To tell Tinsley and Theo that she loved them, telling Finn that he was her best friend and that he'd done his best, that they needed to take care of each other without her.  She owed him an apology – she would have to remember that when he got back. 

The doctors had worked fast and soon described Alex’s condition as stable.  Comatose, with no idea as to if or when he’d wake up, but stable. All they could do was wait.

And Evie hadn’t wanted to leave.  She sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, pulled up right beside his bed, holding his hand and feeling desperately for his pulse, and she wasn’t going to move until he woke up.

She’d gotten away with it for almost three days.  Three days of sitting in silence, the beeping of his heart monitor echoing throughout the room.  Finn was with her for most of it, occasionally disappearing to – she didn’t know what he was doing, really.  That had become Dali’s business, not Evie’s.  Finn might have spoken to her when he was there, but she wasn’t sure.  She couldn’t remember.  Couldn’t focus on anything but Alex, on how small he looked in the hospital bed – small in a way that he hadn’t been since he’d turned thirteen and found himself almost a foot taller than her.  But on day three, she hadn’t been able to ignore Finn any longer.  He’d sent her home, his driver waiting to escort her back.  Told her to enjoy the bath that Theo was going to draw for her, put on some clean clothes, brush your damn teeth, Eves, seriously, and to have dinner with her family, and she could come back in the morning.

That had been four days ago.  And it had become a routine: every other day she would go home to shower, let someone force some food down her throat, change clothes, and come back.  She hadn’t let overnight again, waking up every half hour from yet another panic attack and throwing up the little food she’d been able to eat had quickly ended that, but it was better.  Everyone told her it was better.

How could anything be better when her son hadn’t woken up?

He was her baby.  Her second child, her first son.  She’d carried him for almost nine months, she’d breastfed him for the first year-and-a-bit of his life, she’d soothed him when he couldn’t sleep, slept in his nursery when she couldn’t sleep, had fought with every fibre of her being to bring him into the world.  He had been hers, and he had been perfect.

And… he was Finn’s.  Evie would never play favourites with her children.  She’d spent too long around Lily van der Woodsen for that.  She loved all six of them – seven. Finn might be with Dali now and Sebastian might officially be in his thirties, but Evie would always count him as one of hers – with all of her heart.  But Alex was Finn’s.  Alex’s was the last piece of Finn that was hers, he was proof of how much Finn had loved her.  They had made their perfect, precious son on their very first try, and that would always mean something to Evie.  Something that she would shove into the back corners of her mind, alongside the flash of disappointment she’d felt when she realized that having a son meant she and Finn would only ever have one child.  Gathering cobwebs with memories of unwanted hands all over her body, of months spent in a hospital bed just like Alex’s, of every fucking time that someone she loved was in a stupid fucking hospital because of their stupid fucking parents and Evie was supposed to be better.  

Evie was supposed to be better.  She loved her children.  She was supposed to be better.  They were supposed to be okay.  They were supposed to grow up.  She was supposed to be better.  She was supposed to be fucking better.  She wasn’t any better.  She was just like her own mother, watching her son barely clinging to a life he didn’t want to live, watching her child’s stomach pumped after ingesting more substances than they could ever list from memory.  She was supposed to be better.

“Mom?”

Evie looked up from where she was still clinging to Alex’s hand.  Blue eyes met hazel.  Blue eyes met hazel.  She would know those eyes anywhere, would know that voice anywhere.  Would know her son, anywhere.

“Hi, baby.”

[cloudsandcrescents]

☁️ Update (Personal) ☁️

Hello Tumblr Friend-o’s,

Your friendly neighborhood Cloud here. I deliberated sharing this here but after finally checking my email and after a much appreciated check in email I received, I thought I would share this little snippet of what’s been going on the past few weeks that I hadn’t even realized had been, well, weeks?

(tw: ed)

Next month will mark the first year anniversary since I reached out for help regarding what I now know to be disordered eating behavior. I have never brought this up in this space because I am a very private person and usually share a very surface level glimpse when I’m dealing with personal struggles. Additionally, I haven’t shared this with people that I even know in real life because I still have doubts of my own and struggle to acknowledge that this isn’t just in my head or that I’m “sick enough”.

When I was away a few months ago, I had also stopped attending my check ins with my RDN. I had been dealing with a lot of shame, guilt, and imposter syndrome that kept me from going back and I started to regress into some behaviors that I had been fighting for months to break out of. A few weeks ago, I reached out as a mess of nerves to see if my RDN possibly had any room to fit me back into her schedule because I knew I needed help.

She said yes—of course.

I started attending my appointments again and I’m adjusting to being on a routine again and that is ultimately why I’ve been quiet. Writing was simply one of those things that fell to the back of my mind because, more than anything else, I wanted to get better.

This is probably the most vulnerable thing that I will share here and it’s not from a place of seeking sympathy but something that we would talk about a lot during my recovery thus far is about slowly getting comfortable with talking about it. If I can talk about it, it’s real and that means that I can ask for help.

So, that said, I’m okay. This was not some planned hiatus nor was it one prompted by something really tragic. This one was simply a slip of the mind because I was actually focusing on getting better and reaching out for help which is not my strong suit by any means.

I know there’s no rush but now that I’m eased back into my routine, I do have those updates that I will have for you all this weekend.

Sorry that this long update isn’t actually one with something fun or heartwarming to read but because this is a very vulnerable and important part of my life, I wanted to be transparent about how that has impacted my schedule as of late.

If you read all of this and are going through something of your own, please know that it’s never too late to ask for help. Lots of love to all of you dealing with struggles of your own.

It gets better.

Cloud🩵

[teine-mallaichte]

AI Less Whumptober snippets

Snippets and rabbles written for AI-lessWhumptober

Most of these snippets feature OCs from the complex 27 universe, set about 1,000 years in the future, in a world ravaged by a seemingly endless war where living weapons are common.

Links in orange involve characters from On The Run, but from a time before their escape.

Links in purple feature characters from Strained Bonds.

Links in green include a mix of characters from both, as these

Scenes are set before the start of On The Run, meaning all characters are currently at Complex 27.

Links in Pink are using OC's from  Echoes of the Forgotten War, which takes place in a fantasy world where an ancient war has had lingering effects on race relations.

In this world most elves are either in hiding or owned by human nobles; many used as status symbols, slaves or living weapons.

CW include: living wepaon, dehumanisation, warfare, torture, extreme conditioning, graphic injuries, medical whump, eating disorder, non con drugging, emotional whump, slavery, fantasy racism, wounds, wound care, magic whump, whumperless whump.

AI-less Whumptober:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday - public torture/public use, stress position,

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday - “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday - Survivor’s guilt.

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday - non-consensual body modifications

October 5 - Sensory Saturday - migraines.

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday (Potentially NSFW) - Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday - Hypothermia, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday - Self worth issues.

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday - Hallucinations.

October 12 - Sensory Saturday - Isolation.

October 13 - Surprise Sunday - defiance.

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday - removing body parts

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday - Drowning

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday - Mind control.

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday - “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday - Drugged, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday - Forced to hurt somebody else.

October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday - passing out.

October 24 - Trauma Thursday - relapse.

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday - Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday - “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday - Ownership, branding.

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday - delirium.

October 31 - Trauma Thursday - Panic attack.

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

 3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

[rose-riot-johnson]

Can I get a Shinsou comfort fluff( as usual ) with a afab reader with major depressive disorder and an eating disorder ( abusive family had influenced this, the reader is a normal weight but has been gaining weight from medication for their mental illness ). Mentions of the nickname kitten from Shinsou and he calls them his "girlfriend". Please and thank you~!! ( this is entirely self indulgent, as always as I'm struggling hardcore atm)

Ofcourse Aevyn😁👍 And this fanfic as a whole is definitely something I would definitely write about😃👍 And you're very welcome😁👍 Apologies ahead of time for adding the angst genre😅 I figured I'd add "they/them" part, because I wasn't sure if you wanted the "they/them" part, as well😅 Hopefully you enjoy this fanfic😃👍

*Note: This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅

🫂 Shinsou Loves Me More Than My Family, Ever Did And Ever Will🫂(Adult Hitoshi Shinsou x afab (assigned female at birth) (They/Them) reader)

Genres: Comfort fluff (or Comfort and Fluff) and Angst (Warning⚠️: Eating Disorder, chubby phobia (pertaining the any of the reader's family members), Mentions of depressive disorder, mentions of throwing up (or puke), language, and abuse from family)

When you first met Hitoshi Shinsou (he was already a pro hero), he was at a book store, as he couldn't help, but notice you at the manga section. When the both of you introduced yourselves to eachother, the both of you immediately bonded somehow, so he decided to exchange cellphone numbers with you. As the both of you got to know eachother, within the matter a weeks you decided to ask him out when it comes to being in a relationship with him, which ofcourse he will say yes to you, because he wants to be in a relationship with you, as well.

While you have told Shinsou that you have a major depressive disorder before getting into a relationship with him, at the same time, despite of your major depressive disorder things, Shinsou thought everything was sunshines and rainbows, at first. However one day, when you decided to spend the night at his place, he notices that whenever he asks you if you wanted to eat the food he offered, you refused it, including chicken nuggets. So, while you were in the bathroom, he decided to check your backpack to see what medicine you were taking. He doesn't usually snoop by any means, however with you refusing food and you not opening up about personal stuff (aside from your major depressive disorder), ofcourse he will be concerned about you.

The next thing that happened was after Shinsou started digging though your personal belongings in your backpack, he discovered some meds in your backpack and not just antidepressants... He also discovered a few bottles of weight loss meds that you bought. He was shocked about the amount of bottles weight loss (pills and/or gummies) you had in your backpack.

Once Shinsou puts all of your personal belongings exactly the way you had all of your stuff back inside of your backpack, he heard you throwing up, so he rushed to the bathroom and luckily the bathroom door was unlocked (otherwise he would have to break the door down). Unfortunately he found you passed out, from throwing up. So, he decided to clean you, before getting you dressed into your pajamas, then carrying you to his bed so you can rest easily.

When you finally regained consciousness, you saw Shinsou across from you as you asked, "What happened? Why am I in my pajamas right now, Shinsou?", as you realized you're no longer in your regular clothes. Shinsou replied, "Well my kitten... I knew something was more going on with you, than what you're telling me, especially about your major depressive disorder... So I did something I really hate doing to other people's personal belongings, which was looking through your backpack... Then I discovered that antidepressants aren't the only meds you were taking...", as he grabbed your backpack, then to dump your personal belongings on his bed (where he had you rest in), as he then continued, "After I put your stuff back exactly where they were in your backpack, I heard you throwing up, I rushed in the bathroom to see, if you were okay... Unfortunately I found you passed out, however you're lucky that you left the door unlocked, otherwise who knows what else could have happened... Care to explain why you're refusing food, taking a bunch of weight loss meds, throwing, and everything else you're going through? I need you to tell me, because I care about you and aside from your major depressive disorder, you haven't opened up to me about anything personal once... Please quit hiding stuff from me, my girlfriend... You're very precious to me..." You were shocked about the fact he told you everything he did and said, as you then had to think on wheather or not you're ready to open up to him.

You then decided to open up to Shinsou, as you know he is right. You then said, "Well Shinsou it's complicated... I know I told you I have a major depressive disorder and I never told you anything else otherwise... However both my major depressive disorder and my eating disorder is because of how my family has treated me and they still don't treat me the greatest... Brother's have called me names since probably before I was in my preteens, especially names, such as fatty and fat ass, even if I was at good weight and it has gotten worse after i gained only a few pounds from my antidepressants that I'm on. Then when I do something that upsets my dad or don't do everything my dad wants, my dad called me names, and/or threatened to disown me and/or threatened me with his cane, you name it... My mom also never wants to hear anything I say nor gives a damn about how I feel, unless it's something she wants to hear or when any of my past relationships went to hell or stuff like that. Because of my witchy mom, a couple my past relationships got ruined! And when she found out I was in a relationship with you, she only keeps getting on my case about you, Shinsou!". Shinsou then asked, "What do you mean, she got on your case about me, when I don't even remember meeting her yet, hun?". You then answered, "Well she keeps saying that you need a "real job", because she believes that "pro hero work isn't a real job" and you should all the coming over and I'm not allowed to be in a relationship with anyone unless makes her and my whole family happy and other bullshit she fucken comes up with. So, the only reason why I spent the night, because I lied to my family and told them that I was going to a family friends house to spend the night... I really wish I wouldn't have to live with my abusive family! If I had my way I would live far away from them as possible, because I couldn't take the stress anymore. I want to get out of this hellhole that I feel, so obligated to deal with when it comes to my family. They are the reason why I'm on antidepressants and weighloss meds... They're the reason why I have a major depressive disorder and eating disorder...", as you then began to sob.

Shinsou then hugged you, as he said, "I'm sorry to hear you've been going through this, my kitten. You never deserve the treatment you have been getting from your family. I get your mom might want to protect you, at the same time, from what I'm understanding, she is too overbearing. So, you're right about your family being abusive. Would you like to live with me, my girlfriend? I can even makesure your family won't know where you live, if that's what you want or if you decide on that.". You then stopped sobbing, as you had to think about making a decision on wheather or not you feel that it would be a good idea to live with him, even without your family knowing it... Then you told Shinsou that you decided to live with him, unbeknownst your family and to also get a restraining order against your entire family, as well.

After you told Shinsou your decision, he decided to cook for you, which he madesure you eat atleast something, because he wants to makesure you don't keep feeling sick from not eating food or lacking food. He tells you that he loves you and that you always will be worthy for love, regardless if you're happy with your body (and/or weight) or not. Shinsou also help you with chores. He also will give you massages and any other form of care you need, plus he will do his best to fulfill your needs. He has shown you more care than anyone ever did, including your abusive family. You knew that living with Shinsou was the best decision you had ever made.

Once you changed your address and managed to file a restraining order that will keep your family away from your abusive family for a super long time, you began to feel like you have more freedom, than you ever had in your entire life, before that night you spent the night at Shinsou's place. You knew you're in better hands, than you ever were. Eversince you started living with Shinsou, your life has been, so much better.

🫂The End🫂

Okay my Tumblr Peeps, I hope you enjoy this fanfic 😃👍And @hitoshislover , I hope you enjoyed this fanfic, as well😁👍With certain parts of this fanfic i did put alot of thought in, in a way🤔 Anyways, I really hope this fanfic makes your day, Aevyn🫂😁👍

[reneewalkersbiceps]

recent reads and recommendations:

i’ve been trying to read more recently and kind of get back into a reading flow where i always have a book on the go to read when i can. as a result i have a lot of new recommendations for you all and thought i would share 💋

in order of earliest to latest reads:

her body and other parties - carmen maria machado ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5 stars)

themes/genres - unsettling, horror, fantasy, short stories, contemporary, lgbtq+ (wlw, bisexuality), feminism, experimental

we're starting off strong with one of my new favourite authors, carmen maria machado <3 i fell in love with machado through this book. her beautiful, horrible, astonishing writing made this possibly one of my favourite books ever. i can't say i ever expected to be reading (and adoring) a 60 page list of fever-induced law and order synopses but my god it was incredible. a well-deserved five stars to kick off the list.

human acts - han kang ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5 stars)

themes/genres - south korean history, multiple povs, dark and unsettling (tw for graphic violence and body horror), experimental, contemporary.

this book was beautiful. it takes place during and looking back on the gwangju student uprising of 1980 and uses multiple povs to recount the horrors that occurred during the uprising under the newly instated dictator and martial law. i previously read ‘the vegetarian’ by han kang (another novel i highly recommend) and adored it so picked up human acts to follow up and wow i was not disappointed. it is so poetically beautiful and so haunting, the second pov especially has really stuck with me. a hard read (in terms of content) but a great and necessary one.

things we lost in the fire - mariana enriquez ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (3.5 stars)

themes/genres - short stories, gothic horror, magical realism, latin american literature

i picked this book up after reading enriquez’ ‘the dangers of smoking in bed’ which i loved. i enjoyed this book but i think, comparatively, i enjoyed tdosib a lot more. the book is structured as multiple short stories (mostly) set in argentina from various povs (the same structure as ‘tdosib’). each story is poetic, disturbing and beautiful and enriquez’ writing really highlights a culture i knew little to nothing about previously in such a rich and stunning way. the reason i rated this one a bit lower is simply that i wasn’t as enraptured with ‘twlitf’ as i was with ‘tdosib’ and i found some of the stories less interesting. still a solid read but i would definitely recommend checking out ‘tdosib’ first.

our wives under the sea - julia armfield ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (4 stars)

themes/genres - unsettling/disturbing, lgbtq+ (wlw, bisexuality, lesbian), contemporary, two character pov, gothic, the vast open ocean (tw)

this book is heartbreaking. the sense of tension and dread really creeps up on you in this one as more gets revealed and more past horrors unfold. incredibly poetic and ambiguous, slow to start but the last few parts had me speeding through. watery, foamy, flowing and gorgeous.

milk fed - melissa broder ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5 stars)

themes/genres - mother-daughter relationships, modern judaism, eating disorders (tw), lgbtq+ (wlw) fiction, mental health, identity

i ATE THIS BOOK UP. oh my god. broder so perfectly entangles food, love and sex, obsession and religion and winds metaphors around one another to create a novel that is so weird and yet so normal. it highlights so many societal issues and all the characters are flawed and odd in some way. the main character herself is incredibly problematic at times and somewhat of an unreliable narrator but still very lovable as you can clearly see where her issues stem from and why she is so obsessive. elements of this book really, really spoke to me as a woman who’s had my own issues with food (and mothers and food). a funny, twisted, quite dark and fascinating book that i read in about a day.

in the dream house - carmen maria machado ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5 stars)

themes/genres - memoir, domestic abuse (tw), emotional abuse (tw), lgbtq+ (wlw, bisexuality), feminism, experimental

another cmm beauty. machado really knows how to take an unusual format and make something beautiful out of it. i'd never read a memoir before this and i'm so glad to say this was the first. genuinely like reading a memoir, a poetry anthology, a collection of short stories and a research paper all at once. beautifully done and so heartbreaking.

nightbitch - rachel yoder ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (5 stars)

themes/genres - art and the artist, fantasy/magical realism, feminism, motherhood, transformation, freedom, violence (tw for graphic animal killing), multi-level marketing schemes?

this book is mad. it is literally about a woman turning into a dog. it's brilliant. if you have recently watched barbie and want something slightly more unhinged but still on the topic of feminism and motherhood, this may be for you. i LOVE weird books and this fit me like a glove. made me think about motherhood like i never have before and the transformation throughout the book is crafted beautifully.

the priory of the orange tree - samantha shannon (currently reading)

themes/genres - high fantasy, magic, religion, dragons, lgbtq+ (wlw), romance, violence and death (tw)

i'm about 350 pages in so far guys, she's still a beast but she's a beast i love and i'll update this when i finish. as for now, don't be afraid, she may look hefty but she's WORTH IT.

hope you enjoyed this list, please send me some more recommendations, i shall gladly receive!

(p.s. i have included some trigger warnings but not an extensive list for every book, please be aware that there may be other potential triggers. does the dog die lists triggers for movies, books and tv shows and includes at least some of the books on this list. reader discretion advised!)