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junplusone · 1 month ago

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soft spot for you ; lee jihoon

SUMMARY. jihoon has a soft spot reserved just for you.

PAIRING. lee jihoon x gn!reader

GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers (idiots to lovers), college au (they're seniors), soonyoung horanghae agenda, mildly ambiguous hopeful ending, just wholesome things

WARNINGS. language/swearing

WORDS. 2.51k

NOTES. here's a short little piece lol - if you couldn't tell i'm obsessed with soft spot by keshi... according to airbuds i listened to it like 64 times yesterday oops. also dedicating this to @ppyopulii my resident woozidan love you jay!! ok it's like 6 am for me rn so i'm going to sleep after posting goodnight (or goodmorning i suppose) enjoy reading!

TAGS. @mochacoda @ppyopulii (dm or ask to join!)

PLAYLIST. soft spot - keshi / the cutest pair - regina song

There has never been a time where you did not know Lee Jihoon.

Or if there has, you don’t really remember it. It’s always been you and him, a package deal; always two halves to the whole, no questions asked. The two of you could not be more different, but even so – everything is just so easy when he’s with you.

“Ji, can you pass me the gummies, please?”

Soonyoung watches as Jihoon wordlessly brings the bag of gummy bears over to you, picking out the pineapple ones he knows you like.

“You don’t give me candy,” he sulks, homework lying forgotten on the table.

“You are annoying,” Jihoon tells him, “and you also haven’t gotten a single bit of work done since you’ve gotten here. Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

“Well, I did the math and I could theoretically pass this class even if I get a 50.”

“At the rate you’re studying, I doubt even that’s possible.”

That gets a preoccupied laugh out of you. Jihoon smiles – he knows you’re listening, even as you type away at your laptop. You always have an ear out for anything he has to say, you hope he’s learned over the years.

“You have no faith in me,” Soonyoung grumbles.

“Correct.”

The exchange has you smiling to yourself quietly, because anyone with a brain and two eyes knows that Jihoon cherishes his dear friend very much, despite the harsh words.

Tough love, you like to call it, also having had to deal with Soonyoung’s questionable decisions multiple times before.

The clock hits midnight, and it still feels like you’ve made little no headway on your assignment. Soonyoung is currently knocked out, head leaning against his chair, and Jihoon is scrolling on his phone absentmindedly like he has been for the past hour.

“You know you can leave, right?” you whisper to him. “You literally have no reason to stay here.”

He blinks, eyes tired from staring at the screen all day. “You’re here.”

“That doesn’t necessarily extend to you,” you point out, giving your laptop screen a disdainful look. “You’re not the one doing this god awful project.”

Jihoon leans closer to squint at the document you’ve got pulled up, his hair brushing against your cheek. “Is this for that one systems programming class?”

“Uh-huh.”

“This looks awful,” he remarks.

“You’re not helping!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, patting your shoulder comfortingly. “I think they have a new professor teaching it this semester. I don’t recognize the dude’s name, either, but we probably had it a lot easier.”

“Great. I’m going to drop out of college,” you groan.

“And leave me here with Soonyoung?”

You consider it for a moment, wrinkling your nose at the sleeping man across from you.

“Good point.”

Jihoon sighs, placing his phone down on the table and looking at you with a concerned expression on his face.

“I wish you hadn’t drank all that coffee earlier. You always get wired and end up not sleeping for at least sixteen hours.”

“That was the point,” you huff, editing a line of code. “Ji, if I cave and sleep now, I might literally fail all my classes.”

He frowns at you. “Sleep is a necessity, and you’re treating it like a luxury. You’re just as bad as Soonyoung.”

“Now that’s a comparison I didn’t think I’d ever hear,” you say, amused.

Even between your deflections, though, you know that Jihoon is right. You’ve started to notice the dark circles around your eyes lately, the little signs that you’ve been pushing yourself a little too hard.

And yet, you simply can’t. Stopping now is like throwing a wrench into the gears of your carefully planned out life. You know Jihoon knows that, too.

“Just be careful,” he tells you, glancing away indifferently. “Don’t want you to go and die out of sheer stress before you can even graduate.”

“Are you saying I won’t even make it to the end of the semester?”

“Well, not like this.”

He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the time you stay holed up in the library, but he doesn’t leave either. You eventually give up trying to get him to go home and get some sleep, but you can’t say you don’t find some type of comfort in his presence, either.

It has always been this way. You will always look out for each other.

It’s a staggering two in the morning by the time you finally get to shut your laptop. You wake Soonyoung gently, though Jihoon tells you not to.

(“Just leave him here, he probably won’t wake up until noon, anyways.”

“We can’t do that, are you insane?!”)

The trudge back to your apartment is silent, the weight of a sleepless week on all of your shoulders. The boys insist on walking you back to your place, and you gratefully accept their company on the walk back.

Jihoon stops you right before you head into the building, propping open the door with his shoulder. Have his arms always been so… prominent?

You raise your eyebrows when he slips you another packet of gummy bears. “What’s this for?”

“Sustenance,” he says, and there’s that rare smile on his face again, one you only really see at times like this, when he’s just talking to you. His eyes always crinkle at the corners, forming crescents, and there’s something so heartwarming about his happiness when it spreads to you, too. “I picked up extra. For tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Ji.”

“Yeah, whatever,” comes his chosen response, but the gesture stays with you long after that. You end up leaving it on your desk with the rest of your things, and when you wash up the next morning you find it lying there, hastily forgotten in the rush to get under your covers.

It’s early, and the morning light is shining through your window. You rip the bag open, popping the first piece into your mouth, and the familiar flavor of pineapple floods your tongue.

“Soonyoung, please.”

“You know, I’m with him on this one,” you pipe up, enjoying the scene unfolding in front of you right now. “It can’t hurt to do it for like, two seconds.”

Jihoon looks genuinely distraught at just the thought of doing Soonyoung’s tiger pose, even for a quick selfie. It’s almost funny, almost.

“This goes against all my values and morals,” he states stubbornly.

“You just hate me,” Soonyoung complains, trying to get a good angle with his phone. It’s lovely out today, and you thought having lunch outside in the courtyard with your friends would be a nice way to destress from the week you’ve been having.

This, however, might be accomplishing just the opposite.

“Come on, you can horanghae for one photo,” you coax him gently. “Just let him have this one, okay?”

He scowls deeply, folding his arms. “No.”

“Jihoon.”

He manages to hold your stern gaze for all of five seconds before looking away, rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat as he brings his hand up to his face, and Soonyoung cheers. “I better be compensated for this.”

You frown. “You can only be compensated for emotional or financial distress.”

“My point exactly.”

The fiasco is more or less over with by the time you’ve finished your sandwich, with Soonyoung promising to never let that selfie see the light of day on social media. The sun is high in the sky, and the warm weather has you feeling more like yourself than you have in a while.

Soonyoung plops himself down beside you as you click through an email on your phone. He observes you silently, occasionally glancing towards Jihoon’s retreating figure going to fetch water bottles from the trunk of your car.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask after a while, not moving your eyes from the screen.

“You two are so weird,” he remarks pensively. “I’ve known Jihoon as long as you have, but you get all the privileges that no one else does.”

You look at him curiously. “Like horanghae privileges?”

“Yeah, exactly,” he agrees, laughing, “but it’s everything else, too. You know what I mean.”

You do know what he means. You can’t say you’ve never questioned it before, either; the unspoken words sometimes hang in the air, suspended like a weight that hasn’t quite dropped yet.

But to even question it puts a lot of things on the line, and you’re not ready for that. So you just let it go, words dissolving on the tip of your tongue.

“We’re just friends,” is your very anticipated answer. Soonyoung only chuckles lightly at your response.

“You always say that, but I’ve seen that man genuinely almost break his neck looking at you every time you laugh,” he points out, and you can’t even refute it. “I’ve seen it all, so many times. I literally can’t possibly be wrong.”

And shit, if Soonyoung isn’t right, if he hasn’t said exactly what has been on your mind when you let it wander. But just the thought of that is frightening, and it’s enough for you to smack his shoulder playfully, deflecting again.

“Don’t be silly,” you chide him, trying to change the subject. “Maybe you’re just infinitely more annoying than I am.”

Soonyoung laughs out loud at this. “I thought we already established that!”

“For once in your life, you’re actually correct,” Jihoon calls out, approaching your spot with water in tow. “I can’t remember the last time I had a moment of peace with you.”

“You love me,” Soonyoung teases, accepting a bottle. Jihoon rolls his eyes, but the small smile on his lips gives him away.

The rest of the day flies by so quickly between their bickering and the endless chatter that follows. You wonder why you haven’t done this sooner, barring exam weeks and important deadlines. Lately things had gotten so hectic that you hadn’t spent much time with either of them.

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

“No, this is allowed! It’s literally the rules!”

It’s every day with these two, you can’t help but think to yourself as they argue over an UNO play, cards lying forgotten on the gingham picnic blanket.

And in truth, you would not have it any other way.

The day your thoughts start to boil over, it rains like there is no tomorrow.

“Fuck.”

The word drops from your mouth as you glance out the window, met with the torrential showers. Across from you, Jihoon’s got his headphones on, focused on an assignment he’s been trying to do for the past few days.

You take a long sip of the coffee he’d brought you earlier. The taste is warm and familiar on your tongue, and you wonder how he got it down exactly, whether this is a step out of the ordinary for him or not. Ever since that day in the yard, Soonyoung’s words have done nothing but haunt you.

The seconds tick by as you watch him quietly, taking in his features and mannerisms. Amidst the familiarity is the feeling of a new emotion unfolding, and to name it scares you like nothing else.

“Wow, I think my eyes are burning,” Jihoon announces abruptly, leaning back in his chair. The exhaustion is evident in his face – you could count on one hand how much sleep he’s gotten over the last few days. “I can’t wait to never take an exam again.”

“Like the workforce is any better.”

“At least there won’t be any of this, though.”

“Yeah, but taxes, bills, all of that stuff,” you list off, “there’s a bunch of hard things that we don’t need to worry about just yet.”

“Oh, I guess you’re right,” Jihoon accepts, yawning as he glances back at his screen. “We grew up so fast, didn’t we?”

You nod in agreement. “Scary. I really don’t feel equipped to start adulting.”

The silence that follows only makes you feel the weight of your statement even more. The two of you sit there like that for a while, watching the rain fall rhythmically on the road outside.

You don’t enjoy this kind of weather, but still, you have to admit that there’s something awfully peaceful about it. It’s as if the pit-pat of the raindrops syncs with your own heart, and it grounds you in a way.

“You know, you could call me for any of that stuff,” Jihoon starts, still gazing out the window. “I can’t guarantee being able to help, but we can figure these things out together.”

You look over at him, in part surprise and part fondness. “That would be quite the tall order from me,” you joke.

He just shakes his head reassuringly. “Nothing ever is. Not if you ask.”

“Aww, look who’s being awfully nice today.”

“Hey, I’m nice every day! Well, most days,” he corrects himself immediately.

“I think Soonyoung would have a lot to say about that, Ji.”

Jihoon’s lips are pulled into a slight pout as he furrows his brows at your words.

“I care more about what you think than Soonyoung,” he confesses, mouth open in a slight laugh. “Always have.”

You were going to say something, but now your throat is dry, the words gone from your mouth. It’s all so confusing; you can’t tell if this is supposed to mean what you think – secretly hope – it does, and it won’t do to give yourself false hope.

“Oh?” you just say instead.

“Thought you’d know that after a decade,” he adds, mildly amused. You can tell he’s trying to act as nonchalant as possible, but you see right through it. “When have I not had your back?”

You catch yourself staring into his eyes for a little too long, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. There is something there that feels a lot like a warm welcome home.

“Never,” you say hesitantly. There’s many more words you want to say, but they don’t come right now, still stuck in your mind.

Jihoon just smiles tentatively at you, and in that moment you understand everything that he hasn’t said – everything he hasn’t needed to say.

“Finish up,” he says gently, nodding towards your laptop. “I’ll buy dinner if you can get it done within the next hour.”

You laugh at that, knowing he’ll do it regardless. “Deal.”

Even so, you can’t help but steal the occasional glance back at him, meeting his eyes across the table ever so often. It’s so strange, so new, but so intimate at the same time.

You smile to yourself, barely concealing a giggle. Jihoon has returned to his work, squinting at the lines of code, but you know the two of you will have a nice long talk about this over dinner.

Whatever this is, you’re not sure – but it’s Lee Jihoon, and to you that means everything will be okay. If anything, excitement is what bubbles in your stomach, an anticipation for whatever more is in store for you.

The rain has ceased, and the sun is back.

God, you can’t wait to tell Soonyoung about this.

thanks for reading! i usually end up writing much longer fics so this was really fun, let me know what you think! love, ashi xx

#svthub #jihoon x reader #woozi x reader #svt jihoon #svt woozi #woozi #jihoon fluff #woozi fluff #woozi friends to lovers #jihoon friends to lovers #svt fanfic #woozi fanfic #jihoon fanfic #woozi fic #woozi one shot #jihoon one shot #hot off the press

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juleshollow · 2 months ago

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Scarlet Hollow's soundtrack

I need to write about this game’s music, especially since I don’t see much praise about it when it’s clearly due.

From the start, I’ve loved the opening song – so much so that I usually wait a few minutes on the title screen before playing just so I can listen to it. I think the song is perfect for the game, it sets just the right atmosphere. I don’t know how to explain it (especially not in English), but it sounds like Scarlet Hollow. Like it transports me to the town. I’m there, surrounded by woods and mystery. I love it so so so much.

It's because of this song that I checked if the soundtrack of the game was on Spotify, and it is! Cool! So I’ve been listening to it while I work. Brandon Boone did amazing.

I’ve actually discovered something that surprised me while listening to the playlist. It turns out that every character has their own song, when I was mistakenly associating their music to a scenario or mood. Like I thought that Avery’s theme was the diner’s theme, and Sybil’s was the music you hear when there’s a moment of particular tension and mystery (makes sense). It seems obvious now that I think about it, but I don’t know if I would have realised had I not paid attention to the name of each track.

Which leads me to! How amazing the music is! Now that I know that the characters have their own themes, I can tell how well they fit them. Just like the opening song is perfect for the game (for the town, for Scarlet Hollow), the characters' songs tell you a lot about them. Let me list some stuff I’ve thought about while listening:

Tabitha - low and slow, it sounds guarded, like it’s keeping secrets. It’s mysterious and a little ominous (I originally thought it was the mansion’s theme – it even has a few piano notes and they remind me of the faint piano you hear in the forbidden area of the state on the first day). In the second half of the song, they introduce a higher-pitched melody. It sounds softer, more vulnerable to me. It shows that Tabitha has a delicate side you can stick around to find, I think.

Stella - it sounds very melancholic, which is surprising for a character that positive and energetic (you come to find out why it actually suits her). I don’t know the name of the sound that starts at 1:09, but it’s very UFO/alieny. Kinda points to her search of the supernatural. At first I thought this was the “intimate moment theme”, which makes sense with how close and personal you can get with Stella very early on. Like she needs the intimacy, even if she keeps some stuff hidden.

Avery - synths (which Avery plays! Nice!), a steady percussion beat and electric guitar: smooth, chill, cool all around. And then from 1:43, higher-pitched notes that sound oh so sweet and hopeful.

Kaneeka - starts so soft and peaceful and promptly turns into full-on detective music. Like this is the sountrack of an active investigation. This woman is thinking, she's digging out data because she's super smart. And something about the sounds they chose feels very “technological” to me (if you’ve played Sly Cooper, it reminds me of Bentley’s hacker mini games!), very machines and buttons and science. Why does that matter? Because it’s all so realistic! Kaneeka sounds like the reasonable explanation she’s looking for.

Oscar - sounds like the start of a new day in a videogame, like "6.00am theme". Sunrise, the lazy early morning. Cozy, good.

Reese - pure anticipation, you spend the whole song waiting – something sinister is coming. It’s cool that there are some industrial sounds in there, which Reese supposedly likes.

Duke - slow and sure like an old man. And that slide on the strings is so country, baby.

Sybil - secrets, possible lies. She knows more than you. I need to compare it to Kaneeka’s theme because Sybil sounds like a mystery while her daughter sounds like an investigation. Also, if Kaneeka gives a scientific vibe, Sybil gives off magic – from 2:23 it gets very Hogwarts chimes and bells or whatever. It’s magic vs. logic!

Anyway, I think the soundtrack can make or break a game and this one is fantastic. It really contributes to making the whole experience more immersive. So great job and thank you so much to Brandon Boone 👍 Especially “Scarlet Hollow”, the opening theme, my favourite. Listening to it already makes me nostalgic and brings back the feelings I experienced playing the game, which is exactly what makes a soundtrack great, to me.

#black tabby games #scarlet hollow #brandon boone #scarlet hollow soundtrack

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kajibunny · 11 months ago

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⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well.

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud.

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you.

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor.

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa)

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible)

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

#wind breaker #ren kaji #kaji x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker anime #kaji ren #kaji #wind breaker (satoru nii)#nii satoru #windbreaker #wind breaker fluff #wind breaker headcanons #kaji headcanons #ren kaji my babie <3 #wind breaker fic

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starkwlkr · 9 months ago

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I really love your work, and if my message comes out as awkward, I apologize

I just had a brain fart while reading that hot to go fic and just imagined the Jackman family at a Chappell Roan concert. I don't expect anything, just sending :). Keep doing the good work💖

hot to go part 2 | hugh jackman

an: CHAPPELL AND HUGH?? yes pls <3 thank you for the request!!

Gov ball 2024

Ever since you and Hugh got Olivia and her friends tickets to the governors ball music festival, all she did was play Chappell Roan’s music on repeat. Occasionally she would play Fleetwood Mac or Joan Jett, but Chappell Roan was always at the top of her playlist.

You and Hugh had days off and they happened to land on the same days as the gov ball so you decided that a music festival was the best way to spend time together.

Your boys were in Los Angeles with friends so Olivia gave the tickets to her two friends. You were grateful you didn’t have to fly to another city for the festival.

“Who are we seeing again?” Hugh asked, probably for the tenth time. He was more old school when it came to music, but he still liked to listen to Olivia’s music.

“Chappell Roan, dad. Remember the dance I was showing mom the other day? That’s her song that goes with the dance.” Olivia explained.

“I really like her song ‘red wine supernova’. I hope she plays it.” You looked down at your phone. Alex and Reese had texted you pictures of them and their friends at the beach. You missed them, but you were glad they were having fun.

“So how does the dance go?” Hugh asked.

It took a while but, after many attempts, Hugh finally got the hot to go dance figured out. Olivia felt so proud when he finally got it.

“See that, honey? This old man can still dance.” Hugh said with a smirk on his face.

“Not to brag but it took less tries for me to learn.”

After waiting in the crowd a for what seemed hours (Olivia’s words), Chappell Roan finally arrived on stage. Hugh, like the dad he is, took out his phone and recorded both Chappell Roan and his daughter having the time of her life with her friends, singing and jumping along to the music.

“When is she playing the hot to go?” Hugh asked you.

“It’s just called hot to go, there’s no the in front.” You clarified.

“Oh.”

Eventually hot to go did play. That’s when Hugh and you got told by Olivia that this was the song that they had to dance to. Some fans had spotted the celebrity couple dancing along and recorded them. It’s not everyday you see the wolverine dancing to Chappell Roan.

Hugh ended up having a few mistakes when it came to the dance but he didn’t care. He was having fun. At one point he was being recorded by you.

“You can take me hot to go!” Hugh sang along. “That’s all I know! I don’t know the words, but I’ll learn!”

In a matter of minutes, you and Hugh were on trending everywhere. You even got several messages from Alex and Reese about your viral videos. At the moment, the boys wished they were there either you, Hugh and Olivia.

@kellyxo1

#marvel actress!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman one shot #hugh jackman imagine #hugh jackman fanfic #actress!reader #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman

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punkpandapatrixk · 10 months ago

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🏖Your Own Standards of Beauty ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

I’ve seen one too many times East Asian YouTubers, when talking about EA’s ‘rigid standards of beauty’ giving this sense of defensiveness or helplessness—because it’s culture, right? With every fibre of my mixed ancestry I loathed that particular brand of apologist behaviour.

‘Nature is busy creating absolutely unique individuals, whereas culture has invented a single mold to which all must conform. It is grotesque.’ – U.G. Krishnamurti

Up until fairly recently, I was still struggling with comprehending the thought process behind this ‘invention’ of a grotesquely small and narrow mould of beauty and conduct to which ALL East Asians must abide lest you’re a total disharmonious failure. After some long and hard rumination, frustration, accompanied by occasional bouts of repugnance, I think I finally get ‘why’.

Almost ALL people in East Asia ALL LOOK THE SAME!!! By nature!!! LMAO LMAO People can ONLY have black hair and black eyes LMAO Ahahahohohhahah I think these Asians were never ‘socialised’ to appreciate variety. Hahhh that’s so pathetic. If this really is the reason, man, it’s pathetic as fuck. Ionno tho. You think I’ve figured it out.

All I know is that East Asians must repent for all the sins they’ve committed against childhood, individuality, creativity, aaand society and Humanity itself. Yes, Humanity. Standing on the side of all genetically diverse peoples of Asia, such as the Ainus, Mongols, Uyghurs, to some extent the Zainichis, and sooo many other ‘anomalies’ who, in recent history, have been cast aside and treated poorly only because they don’t ‘fit in’ to the ideals and cultures of the main races of some purebred fucks.

For all I care, the part of East Asian culture that has birthed this infamous ‘rigid standards of beauty, and, conduct’ can go to fucking hell. If you’re the type of person who’s even the slightest bit proud—or defensive—of this you can go and fuck yourself. No one should be proud of that kind of a racist, fascist, repulsive, little bitch mindset. Are you a little bitch? I ain’t one.

I am a Supreme Bitch! Imma be myself and do whatever the fuck I want and look however I want. And if my society can’t take that? Those types of people—Asian or no Asian—can die on the wrong side of history! I. AM. MY OWN. PROTOTYPE.

perspective: Why BUSHIDO Is The Root of All Social Problems in Japan by Let’s ask Shogo

documentary: WE ARE X on YouTube (watch before it’s taken down LOL)

‘X challenged a conservative Japanese society and showed us a new way to be. They started a revolution, honestly.’

‘Be proud!! Be proud of yourself! We are!! X!!!’

deck-bottom: X(!?!) The Wheel of Fortune, Priestess of Ambition, Gold Magus (Johannes Faustus)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – A Light of Innocence in this Insanely Debased World

playlist: silly playlist for silly people with rare songs!! by Rita wild

the TYPA beauty you are – Page of Cups

You are someone who’s known for being quite childlike. It could be that you do look young, but it’s mostly your mannerism. Technically speaking, it’s just YOU being the happy pill that you are. Listen, some of you tuning into this Pile could be dark and sombre on the inside—especially if you have a significant Scorpio/Pluto about you or if you’ve had a very unhappy childhood—but the way you’re perceived on the outside is totally bright, beautifully soft and pleasant, and dang, people really be liking your aenergy when you’re in a room.

You’re the type of beauty that exudes ‘purity’ in the most innocent way, no matter how you look or dress. You could be perceived as ethereal or unreal. otherworldly in a sense that you don’t seem to fit in this dimension. Are you an alien? Are you a goddess? Are you a fairy, elf, or an anime character? People may not have the exact words to describe you but you’re INTERDIMENSIONAL is what’s going on.

It isn’t just your physical beauty or the attractive way that you smile. People may not realise this themselves either but what’s truly beautiful about you is this VIBE or AURA that you generate from having a vastly pure heart. No, no, not pure in the sense that you never think sexy thoughts, what? Pure in the sense that you really operate from your Higher Heart and has very little ego driving your ambitions in Life~^_☆-v

effects on the world around you – Ace of Cups Rx

Basically, you just love beautiful things. You always look for beautiful things. And you make an effort to surround yourself with things you find beautiful in your own standards. And in a way, you’re also the kind of person who sees beauty in everything and everybody. You’re the type of person who sees Light even in a narc’s darkest corners of their blackened heart (if they had one), which is really such a beautiful thing but could also prove DANGEROUS!

It’s wonderful to have childlike wonder but it ain’t cool whatsoever to be childish enough not to acknowledge the presence of evil fucks. Bad people exist, OK? Very predatory and murderous people exist, OK? And it’s a spectrum. And you’ve been such an easy target for those on the milder spectrum of psychopathy! Babe! OMG You’re often drained of good aenergy after catering to the stupid whims of very narcissistic, histrionic, pathetic, selfish and whiney fucks.

STOP THAT. Of all the Piles, you’re the type of soft beauty who’s often underestimated and taken for granted just because you’re always so positive. If not ‘positive’ per se, you’re perceived as ‘strong’, so those types of people don’t even feel shame for constantly taking and demanding your aenergy. Keep allowing that long enough and your physical beauty could be drained out of you by the time your First Saturn Return jaywalks along and smacks you in the head.

keep being you, Glorious One – 6 of Swords Rx

Truly, you’re a silly angel who holds the power to absorb other people’s pain and gloomy feelings. But if this is your main pile, thing is, you might not have learnt how to release or transmute the negativity you’ve absorbed from your surroundings. It is paramount that you learn to call upon divine protection so that you’re shielded from the Evil Eye of those who are envious of your beauty and feel silly in your purity. Your Spirit Guides aren’t saying that you should stop being innocent, right?

A Soul like you is very rare in this perverted world. Some people might say, ‘They don’t make people like you anymore…’ WRONG. You’re the catalyst, if anything. By your example, there’s gonna be MORE people who are gonna be comfortable in their purity. Knowing that there’s nothing wrong with them for being this way. Fully comprehending that it is this world that’s gone too insane, and DEBASED. And this world has been this way for far longer than people realise. I mean, I’m sure you’re aware of how inhumane most people were in the medieval times LOL

Keep being the innocent and pure you, Glorious One. What you’re being advised to do is learn to set healthy boundaries from which you can still shine your Light safely. I’m being told that many of you choosing this Pile, due to your heightened sense of aesthetic, might want to have a social media presence or any kind of public platform where you’re free to share bits and pieces of your beautiful Life as a form of your Lightwork. Some kind of a lifestyle influencer?

I’m thinking of channels and blogs that typically share aesthetic daily vlogs and stuff like that—like nemui atelier on YouTube. You know what I mean; I don’t know what I mean XD

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻💙

story of your evolution – Priestess of Prosperity

a legacy of authenticity – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – An Unexpectedly Romantic Dreamer of Luxury

playlist: songs like 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 (MITSKI) by song with love

the TYPA beauty you are – 2 of Cups

Ah~! You are such a dreamy and romantic beauty! You’re soft, elegant, sweet and lovely, with a kicking spice for those who would get on your bad side LMAO You’re actually a lot tougher than appearances give but most people don’t always get this until they’ve gotten to know you. For the most part, at first glance, at first encounter, you’re a sweet goddess, who probably gets projected on a lot.

You really have an unassuming quality about you. So then, people think there’s not much going on within and think it’s easy to typecast you into something, with some simplistic label. People think it’s easy to figure you out and classify you into some kind of a dream girl who’s always going to be nice, warm and friendly with everybody. You’re not. You’re a totally self-respecting babe. Actually, you really hate it when people act like they know you.

When people act like they’re close, buddy-buddy with you, it’s super annoying and depending on your mood that day, you could sometimes feel this urge to break people’s faces. But you don’t do that; you’re too nice. And you’ve got a plethora of coping mechanisms to deal with how annoyed you are with your surrounding XD Good for you!

effects on the world around you – 5 of Swords Rx

First of all, I think many of you tapping into this Pile love shopping. Retail is definitely your therapy. Is this good? Is this bad? Depends, I guess. You tend to spend money gregariously or consume a lot of food, or buy a lot of aesthetic knickknacks, or buy a lot of arts and craft as a means of therapy. Deep down, you’re somebody who has a lot of anger or a general sense of dissatisfaction with the world you’re a part of and this rage, almost, needs to be channelled creatively.

There’s a perpetual sense of disgust inside of you. You’re keen to observe and notice how much Humanity is failing. Everything that is ugly about society and people in general disgusts you. That’s why it’s important for you to live in beauty or indulge in creativity. That’s why it is paramount that your immediate surrounding, that your own Life, within what you’re able to control, is beautified to the max. You could be quite desperate in this pursuit because this is some kind of an overcompensation for the beauty and creativity that you feel is lacking in the world.

Your aenergy is kinda reminding me of this quote by the iconic Edie Sedgwick when describing why she dressed up the way she did:

‘When I was girl of the year and superstar and all that crap, everything I did was really…motivated by psychological disturbance. But I’d make a mask out of my face because I didn’t realize I was quite beautiful…I had to wear heavy black eyelashes like bat wings and dark lines under my eyes. Cut all of my hair off and strip it silver and blond. All these little manoeuvres I did out of things that were happening in my life that upset me. I’d freak out in a very physical way, and…it was all taken in a fashion trend.’

In fact, I think all of her famous words here could resonate with you. You are what trend-setters and superstars are made of, that much of your effect on the world is certain~

keep being you, Glorious One – Queen of Pentacles

Really, that’s all dandy as long as you can make a living out of your pursuit of beauty and creativity. This about you is really something that you can utilise as a means of therapy, self-care and self-improvement because you really are an artist, one way or another. It would be wonderful if you could monetise your beauty and creativity in some trendy way.

If you feel that you’re not particularly good at any kind of ‘real’ art, then you can ‘serve face’ to help other people sell their shit. You don’t think this is smart enough? Muses are often people who don’t do art—rather they inspire Art in the minds and hearts of other artists. Truly, you are an artist; but those of you tuning into this Pile who feel like you’re not one…you are potentially someone’s Muse.

Luxury is yours for the taking. But a lot of people in this world pursue luxury and some form of fame for vapid reasons and that often makes people very unhappy. Your Spirit Guides are saying that you do have a talent for balancing modern money-making and self-care. I think what they mean to say is that, you can be the prototype for how people can be completely and uniquely offbeat whilst still maintaining a good work-life balance.

After all, you do remember how much people like to project on you, right? Well, use them to make Life a lot easier! XD After all, it’s not like their projection and labelling would be useful any other way LOL🐙

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻💜

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luxury

a legacy of authenticity – Green Historian (Herodotus)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – A Ghostly Bitch Witch Who’s Quite Literally a Fucken Sigma

playlist: Everything Is Still Under Control by Mabisyo

the TYPA beauty you are – Queen of Wands Rx

You, are, by nature, magical. You’re incredibly magnetic and this ain’t even something you’ve needed to work on; it all comes naturally. If anything, it seems you’ve needed to learn the very hard way how to shield yourself from aenergy vampires. You’ve needed to work on your boundary. This is because it took you such a long time to realise most everybody around you was nothing but anklebiters. These were people who just wanted to be seen orbiting you because doing so would elevate their status or image.

Whether or not you’re aware of it, you’re quite literally thee IT girl. You’re also THAT girl, because a lot of what you do and just who you are is very aspirational. Well of course aspirational to the motivated ones; to the weak, lame-ass ones? Almost everything about you is irritating. And most people are really lame, don’t we all agree on this? So you may have felt like you’re really quite an unlikeable character. WRONG. Dead wrong. It’s not you; it’s your lame-ass environment.

You’re a Queen of Passion who’s been living in peasant quarters, figuratively speaking. You’ve been surrounded by misers who don’t even understand why it’s deeply important for them to raise their own standards of authenticity. Thing is, they can’t afford to be authentic. It’s probably not entirely their fault—after all, peasants are highly dependent on thee System. Not you. You’re the menacingly magnetic bitch witch of a system buster!

effects on the world around you – 8 of Cups

As much as you make an effort to be left alone, you magnetise admirers to no end. This is reminiscent of Greta Garbo’s famous quote, ‘I never said, "I want to be alone". I only said, "I want to be left alone". There is a whole world of difference.’ It’s true with you as well. You’re not necessarily an antisocial bitch who hates people; you just want to be left alone by gluttonous gossipers and silly simpers. You find it hard to grasp why people behave unreasonably in society, all, the, time.

You yearn for a more intellectual world where people behave honourably, which is quite paradoxical considering you’re often perceived as quite scandalous in your behaviour and lifestyle choices as well. For example, you could be gay or queer? You could desire to defy social norms such as ‘having to marry by a certain age’? You either reject social norms or you live completely opposite to what’s expected of your gender, nationality or age. You don’t like being told how to live your Life as if you couldn’t work it out yourself. It's YOUR Life, right?

It’s MY Life! My Story! Is what you say.

You’re the kind of super bad bitch that gives no one permission to decide how you should sail your ship. You’re at the wheel so you’re gonna sail the world however best you know. You’re gonna learn a ton because you’re not afraid of detours or delays or whatever—you could meet accidents, hopefully not fatal ones, but you’re going to learn. That’s what growing up well is all about for you. And if you meet the right kind of audience, your whole AURA is going to empower them to do just the same for themselves~

keep being you, Glorious One – 4 of Cups Rx

You are destined for an exciting Life. In fact, you’re meant to have an audience, have some kind of impact on the world, you’re meant to become some kind of a famous person. Could be a celeb, yeah, but in this social media era, literally everybody can have their own unique kind of celebrity, right? You’re meant to be seen, heard, listened to, watched, analysed (LOL), and learn from.

You’re somebody who’s rare and your perspectives are deeply needed by this world. This world that’s often blindsided by optical illusions. Of all people, you’re the only one who’s not getting sucked into the mirage of mass media and deceitful politicians. You’re the one who’s noticing where the lies are all at. And you need to point that shit out, spell it out for other people to see what’s truly going on in this world.

You could gain enemies, lots of them, in fact; but you are definitely gaining a massive following far greater than that if you remain authentic and courageous. Stay spooky. Stay scandalous. Stay gloriously YOU~ You’ve no idea just how much that Light of yours is needed in this world of long shadows. Keep your Third Eye open and keep your divine protection. Most people have yet to catch on to the one thing that makes YOU superfluously attractive: a courageous Heart that seeks to liberate others from the chains of their own cowardice.

YOUR BEAUTY KILLS🔻🧡

story of your evolution – Priestess of Luck

a legacy of authenticity – Green Magus (John Dee)

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

664 notes · View notes

koojks · 2 months ago

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a/n: HI. i've ultimately decided to split this part into two, mainly because it's taking me longer than i originally thought (thanku work and college. sigh.), but also because I JUST WANTED TO POST THIS. so i hope thats ok with u all <3 i've almost finished the second part to.. well this part? but i hope it doesn't disappoint you!! so yeah :) the next part will also be written, and a direct continuation of this chapter!! and out so much sooner, yay :). also thankyou all so much for enjoying not ideal. it makes me so happy <333

wc: 4.1k

The evening is warm, sunlight filtering through sheer curtains in golden ribbons, painting the room in soft, pretty hues. The distant hum of traffic drifts in from outside, mixed with the occasional echo of voices from the street below. It all blends together into a strangely calming backdrop as you sit in front of the mirror, makeup brush held loosely between your fingers.

There’s no rush, no pressure.

Not yet, at least.

You still have time before everyone meets up for pre-drinks, before the night really begins. Before you’re crammed into loud clubs, laughing over overpriced drinks, and listening to terrible remixes of otherwise great songs.

For now, the moment is yours.

Your playlist hums softly from the speaker, a familiar song you’ve heard a thousand times plays, one that you never seem to get bored of. It’s the kind of music that fills you with excitement and confidence as you continue getting ready for your night out. You take your time applying mascara, careful not to smudge it, something that happens more often than you'd like.

Your room is a comforting kind of chaos. A an open wardrobe with half its contents strewn across the chair, from the aftermath of outfit trials. a half-finished iced coffee sitting forgotten on your bedside table, and the faint scent of vanilla perfume hanging in the air.

Outside, the city feels alive. But in here, it’s just you.

Eventually, you slip into your final outfit, one that feels right, comfortable but flattering. You smooth the fabric down and turn to assess yourself in the mirror. A moment of silent approval.

You look good.

Not for anyone else, not for the sake of attention or validation. But for yourself.

You find there’s a quiet, confident power in feeling good in your own skin.

You pick up your phone absent-mindedly and skim through your messages, finding nothing new. You scroll through your texts with Taehyung from the day before, confirming your plans to meet up earlier than the others so he can practice his awful gaming skills before Jimin inevitably challenges him again tonight.

That man has a serious competitive streak, but losing to Jimin? It brings out the worst in him.

The night already feels predictably familiar, in the best way.

Jimin will show up early too. Taehyung will be dramatic when he loses again, and you’ll witness the same bickering you’ve seen a hundred times. Then, the rest of the guys will roll in one by one. The music will get louder, the energy will rise, and it will all unfold as it usually does

Jungkook said he was passing, not really a surprise. You didn’t expect anything else. You assume he’s with someone tonight, just a guess.

Maybe that girl. The one you pieced together he left for during movie night.

You don’t really care.

In fact, it makes things easier, the less you have to deal with him; his mood swings, his sharp tongue, the better. You still don’t get him, not really, the way he goes between hostility and indifference, how he’ll engage with you one minute and then make it clear that he finds you insufferable the next.

He’s weird.

he’s not important.

Once you finish getting ready, you take a moment to tidy up your room, just enough to make things easier for future, drunk-you to find your bed later. You sling your bag over your shoulder, grab your keys, and step out into the warmth of the evening.

The last remnants of daylight stretch across the sky, casting a soft glow on the pavement. The streets hum with the familiar energy of the city, couples strolling hand in hand, clusters of students making their way to bars, and the occasional dog leisurely walking with its owner.

You weave through it all, headphones in, your playlist setting a steady rhythm beneath the city’s pulse.

As you continue your walk, you pass by a new café, one you’d mentally bookmarked after hearing Namjoon rave about their coffee. You think about dragging him there soon, letting him ramble on about blends and brewing methods while you nod and watch the world pass by through the window.

This city is full of these small, familiar places that hold different memories, woven into the fabric of your friendships, each corner steeped in experiences, some happy, some bittersweet.

It’s grounding, in a way.

You’ve not even been close to taehyung and his friends for too long. A few months really. You met him over the summer break, completely by chance at some gathering through mutual friends. But somehow conversation came easy with him. He was welcoming in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Before you knew it, you were spending more and more time with him and his friends. And when the new semester had started, they felt familiar. Like a safe space, all bar one, that is.

The recognizable street stretches ahead as daylight begins to softly fade into the horizon. Things grow quieter. Faint conversations drift from open balconies, a few cars pass by, but it’s peaceful, quiet, a stark contrast to the liveliness just a few blocks away.

You slow your pace as you near Taehyung’s place, shifting the weight of your bag over your shoulder. His flat sits at the end of the street, a row of houses converted into apartments, all occupied by students. A little worn, but full of character. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t stand out, but still feels like home.

You step up to the building, glancing automatically toward the windows at the front of the house. The curtains are usually wide open, but tonight they’re drawn shut. You can just make out the faint glow of the living room light behind them.

At first, you think nothing of it. He’s probably in his room, maybe doing something else.

You pull out your phone, unlocking it as you reach the door. You almost walk in automatically, what else do you do? You've never had to knock before. It feels weird, awkward. Taehyung is usually just... there.

You check your messages, nothing.

Very out of character for him, especially considering he’s the one who made the plans. Sure, it was just yesterday, but Taehyung’s reliable. He doesn’t just bail last minute.

You shift on your feet, frowning slightly. Maybe he’s in the bathroom, he could’ve lost track of time, or maybe he’s just being annoying.

You tap your phone idly, deciding to send a text.

you: i’m outside

Seconds pass.

Nothing.

You knock at the door. It feels weird.

Your frown deepens.

Just as you consider calling him, your phone buzzes.

Taehyung: shit.

Taehyung: Fuck, i’m still out.

You inhale sharply, tightening your grip around the phone, glaring at the screen.

you: so you invited me over and you just AREN’T HERE????

Taehyung: okay but in my defense, I thought I’d be back by now.

Taehyung: i swear i won’t be long.

You roll your eyes. Great. Wonderful.

Now you have to wait outside like an idiot until he gets back or-

The sound of the lock turning catches your attention.

A slow, creeping awareness settles in your chest that the other person that lives here is home. As the gap in the door widens just enough for a figure to step into view. Dark hair, broad shoulders, familiar build.

Jungkook.

Standing in the doorway, towel slung over his bare shoulders, and a look that suggests he’s just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

Every assumption about tonight shifts.

The silence stretches in the doorway. You should have known. Should have accounted for the one variable that always seems to throw your calculations off.

But you didn’t.

Jungkook stands there, Hair damp and pushed back, droplets trailing down the cut of his collarbones, inked arm on complete show, subtly flexing. His brows lift slightly, equal parts confusion and amusement, like he’s waiting for an explanation.

You don’t owe him one.

Your grip tightens on your phone. “You’re here?”

Jungkook scoffs, shifting his weight against the frame. “I live here?”

Right.

The plan had been so simple. Go to Taehyung’s. Beat him at Mario Kart. Drink. Go out. Jungkook had said pass in the group chat. You assumed that would mean he wouldn’t be here. But he is.

And Taehyung? No where to be seen. of course.

The realization settles like a weight in your chest. Your prediction for the night was off. Completely. You hate when things don’t go how you’d expect them to, it just messes with your brain.

But It’s fine, you can deal with this.

You exhale, straightening. “Taehyung invited me over early.”

Jungkook blinks, exhales a short, dry laugh. “Yeah? Well Taehyung isn’t here.”

“No shit,” you mutter, shifting awkwardly. You avoid eye contact, because it’s better not to look at him right now. It’s too awkward. And it doesn’t help that he’s standing there half-dressed. Who answers the door topless, anyway?

You could leave. You know that. It wouldn’t be weird. no one would judge you for turning around and walking away. Well, maybe the guy standing in front of you would, but then again, he seems to judge you for breathing. Yet, for some reason, you stay rooted to the spot like an idiot, caught in the unspoken weight of the situation.

It’s just you and him.

Jungkook doesn’t look like he’s about to tell you to get lost, though. Instead, he exhales through his nose, rubbing the towel against his hair before slinging it over his shoulder again. He steps back, tilting his head towards the inside of the apartment. “Come in. Wait if you want.”

…right.

You pause for a moment, before stepping inside anyways, the warmth of their place wrapping around you instantly as Jungkook closes the door. It’s quiet, too quiet. No music, no lingering sounds of a game or a movie. Just the muffled sounds of the city, barely heard through the windows.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he pads toward the hallway, presumably to his room. Leaving you standing awkwardly in the living room. It’s different. for a place all too familiar to you, the energy is so concentrated, so tense.

“You could’ve shut the door on me.” you call after him, pulling off your jacket and draping it over the armrest of the couch.

He turns around briefly and looks at you, before he continues walking. “Could’ve.”

The silence that follows when Jungkook goes into his room is heavier than it should be. It lingers, it’s felt. Pressing against you as you stand there, unsure of what to do with yourself.

You don’t belong here.

Not alone, at least. Not without Taehyung to balance out the atmosphere. Usually when you’re here, it’s loud, filled with the chaotic voices of your friends. music playing, conversations overlapping. You’ve never stopped and focused long enough to realize how the space really feels. How it smells like a mix of cologne and detergent. How the lighting casts a warm tone across the room .

Without others, everything feels different.

Your fingers tap against your thigh as your gaze drifts, scanning the apartment you’ve been to more times than you can count, yet never quite paid so much attention to.

The living room is undeniably lived in, but not messy. Taehyung’s style is evident in the colorful throw pillows, the decorative candles, the carefully picked prints the are plastered on the walls. Jungkook’s presence, however, is quieter, more subtle. The black gaming controller resting on the couch. the weights that sit by the door, the faint scent of whatever body wash he uses still clinging to the air from his shower.

Your gaze catches on a framed photo sitting on the shelf near the TV.

You hesitate before stepping closer, drawn to it for some reason, despite yourself.

It’s a picture of the two boys, candid, arms slung over each other, mid-laughter, real grins plastered on their faces. Jungkook looks different. His hair is shorter, his eyes sparkle. Younger, or maybe just.. lighter. His shoulders aren’t weighed down with whatever makes him so guarded now.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until a voice cuts through the silence.

“Didn’t take you to be someone that snoops.”

You jolt, slightly, turning to find jungkook standing in the living room, leaning against the wall.

He’s changed into a loose black t-shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips. showing off the band of his boxers. Dark strands of hair still damp, and curling slightly at the ends. The scent of his cologne now present, something clean, sharp, familiar in a way that makes you hyper aware of the fact that you two are alone, again.

You blink. “I was just looking.”

Jungkook follows your gaze, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. That was a while ago.”

There’s something in the way he says it that you can’t quite place.

You tilt your head, studying the photo again. “Never seen you smile like that.”

He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he steps by you, moving toward the kitchen. “Maybe i don’t have a reason to.”

The weight of the statement lingers, but before you can think too much of it, He’s in the kitchen, opening the fridge.

“Drink?”

You nod briefly.

He redirects his attention to opening two bottles of beer, and you exhale slightly, moving to sit on the sofa. The clinking stops, and a few seconds later, jungkook reappears into your sight, stepping back into the living room.

He doesn’t say anything as he extends the drink towards you, gaze fixed somewhere behind you, like it’s nothing. Like he’s trying not to acknowledge your existence too much.

You stare at him briefly before taking it off him. “Thanks.”

He just nods.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. The faint hum of the air-con fills the space, the low buzz of city life filtering in through the window. You take a sip of your drink, the cool bitterness grounding you, giving you something to focus on other than the weight of Jungkook’s presence beside you.

There’s something hanging in the air between you and him. Something quiet but heavy, a feeling neither uncomfortable nor easy.

Just. there.

Lingering in the spaces where words usually go.

Tonight feels different. The usual sharp remarks and teasing comebacks are missing, replaced by a silence that feels… uncertain. There’s still the weight of past arguments, old words left unresolved, but for once, neither of you is filling the gaps with sarcasm. Jungkook glances at you briefly before looking away just as fast. It’s subtle, but you notice, because for some reason recently, when it comes to him, you always seem to notice.

He’s sitting at the other end of the couch, one arm stretched over the back, fingers tapping absentmindedly against his beer bottle. He looks relaxed, but you can tell it’s forced. The way his shoulders are just a little too stiff, the way he seems like he’s holding something back. Jungkook has always been good at keeping things buried, pretending things don’t bother him. But tonight, something is different. It’s small, but it’s there.

You’re not sure how to feel about it. The quiet between you isn’t normal, but it isn’t exactly bad either. It’s delicate, like it could change at any moment, and you’re not sure if you’re more nervous or curious to see where it leads.

You shift slightly, the couch creaking under your movement. Jungkook is staring into the distance, but you can feel that his mind is elsewhere. You consider saying something lighthearted, but instead, the words that come out are different.

“You always this much fun to hang out with?”

Jungkook lets out a small breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. It’s barely there, but you catch it. He finally turns his head to look at you, dark eyes sharp yet unreadable as he raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know I was supposed to be entertaining you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “You invited me in. Least you could do is talk.”

For a moment, he just watches you, gaze unreadable. There’s something weighty about the way he looks at you, something quiet yet deliberate. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “You look different.”

Your fingers pause on the rim of your drink. The comment catches you off guard, Making you feel confused, aware.

Jungkook doesn’t clarify right away. His eyes flicker over you again, subtle but searching, before he takes another sip of his beer. There’s no teasing to his voice, no signature smirk or sarcasm. Just observation, cool and calm. “The outfit,” he adds after a beat, voice softer now. “It suits you.”

It’s not just the words, but the way he says them. Jungkook isn’t one to toss out compliments easily, especially not to you. There’s no playful edge, no challenge in his tone. Just something steady. Something sincere.

And you have no idea what to do with that.

The usual rhythm between you feels off now. The back-and-forth teasing, the careful space you keep between each other, it doesn’t seem to fit anymore. Not in this moment. You tighten your grip on your drink, casting your gaze elsewhere. “Thanks.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It just… exists. Not heavy, not suffocating, but present. You steal another glance at him, catching the way his jaw tenses like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. Jungkook has always been careful with his words, measured in a way that makes it hard to tell what he’s really thinking. But tonight, there’s a hesitation you don’t recognize.

Your eyes drift across the room, landing on the shelf beneath the TV. Stacks of DVDs sit in a messy row, a collection of action flicks and psychological thrillers. But among them, something unexpected stands out.

You lean forward, squinting. “No way,” you murmur, amusement slipping into your voice. “You own Studio Ghibli movies?”

Jungkook, in the middle of taking another sip, pauses slightly. His gaze sharpens. “So?”

“So,” you say, turning to him fully, a grin tugging at your lips. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s something else in his expression, something almost guarded. “Just because I like something doesn’t mean I have to announce it.”

He doesn’t sound defensive, just honest. And for a second, you wonder how many other things he keeps to himself, buried under that quiet, unshakable exterior.

A beat passes before you shift. “Wanna put one on?”

Jungkook hesitates a fraction too long before exhaling through his nose. “Yeah. Fine.” But the usual resistance in his voice isn’t quite there.

You watch as he moves toward the shelf, fingers skimming over the cases with a careful slowness. He picks one, hesitating briefly before turning back. There’s something in the way he avoids your gaze, just a little.

“Haven’t watched this one in a while,” he admits, voice lower now, like he’s sharing something, an action he's not entirely comfortable with.

You don’t push. Just nod and settle back as he starts the movie. The opening score fills the quiet room, familiar and warm. From the corner of your eye, you catch the way Jungkook’s shoulders ease, the sharp edges of him rounding out, even if it’s only slightly.

Minutes pass in a comfortable quiet, both of you paying attention to what's playing on the screen. Then, Jungkook shifts. At first, you think he’s just adjusting, but he isn't. He stands up and disappears down the hall.

You frown slightly, your gaze following him. Before you can ask where he’s going, he reappears, something small held between his fingers.

Your lip balm.

The one you’d left here before. The one he told you he threw away.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything as he holds it out. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something in the way he hesitates.

You stare at it, then at him. Slowly, carefully, you take it from his hand, your fingers brushing his for just a second. The warmth of him lingering against your skin for longer than it should.

“Thought you threw this away.”

Jungkook exhales, dropping back onto the couch, eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah. Well.”

That’s all he gives you. No explanation, no extra words.

But somehow, it says everything.

The moment lingers between you, something unspoken yet understood. Before you can fully process it, the sound of the front door unlocking cuts through the silence.

Taehyung’s voice fills the apartment before he does, loud and carefree. “I’m back, losers.”

And just like that, the spell is broken.

You feel your shoulders tense slightly, snapped back into the present like you had almost been pulled out of something fragile. Jungkook didn’t move, but his expression changed. His face hardened. His guard, that was almost down a few seconds ago, was now firmly back in place.

Taehyung was already making himself at home, kicking off his shoes and walking into the living room. Grin wide, energy buzzing.

He flops onto the couch between you and jungkook, stretching out his legs with a satisfied sigh.

“alright,” he exhaled dramatically.

“Tonight is going to be so fucking good. Everyone is on their way. Jimin’s already tipsy from what I’m aware. Which means he’s going to be a menace before we even leave. Hope you’re ready,”

Jungkook didn’t react.

But you could feel the weight of him near you, presence still heavy in the room, albeit silent. He just listened, posture stiff, face sharp. Tugging absentmindedly on his lip ring. A habit you had started to notice he did when he was thinking about something he didn’t want to say out loud.

Taehyung was seemingly oblivious, too caught up in excitement to notice the stark shift in energy. “You better not bail halfway through the night.” He said, nudging your knee with his own. “we’re going all in. I wanna see you wasted by at least-” he checks his watch dramatically. “-midnight.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “No promises.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply.

And then stood.

The motion was slow, like he had only moved because he’d decided he was done with this conversation, with whatever had settled in the air.

Taehyung watched him with mild curiosity, eyes following him. “Where are you going.”

Jungkook stretched briefly, rolling his shoulders before responding, voice flat. “To get ready.”

Taehyung blinked. “For what.”

Jungkook looked at you, no emotion on his face before diverting his attention. eyes reaching Taehyung’s. “I’m coming out.”

Taehyung let out a short laugh, caught off guard. “since when?”

Jungkook was already half way down the hall as he replied. “Since now.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t give either of you anything before disappearing into his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Taehyung stared at the hallway for a moment then turned to you, face showing utter confusion. “What the fuck was that.”

You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I have no idea.”

Taehyung still looked baffled, his gaze flicking back towards Jungkook’s closed door before landing on you again. “Like, what? I wasn’t even going to try and convince him to come tonight. He’s too fucking stubborn.”

You shrugged, trying to seem unbothered, But the difference in his demeanor has seemed to shake you more than you’re willing to admit.

Taehyung huffed, leaning back against the couch. “Man is so weird.” He turns towards you more now, expression less teasing. “Anyway. Sorry for being late. I forgot i had this lecture, and then i was hungry-”

You shook your head, interrupting him. “It’s fine. I hope you know hate you now though.”

He smiles for a moment, before studying your expression. “So.. how was it?”

“What?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hanging out with him.”

You just sighed quietly, messing with the hairband on your wrist. “It was fine. He spoke to me, so.”

Taehyungs lips curled, amusement flashing in his face. He stretches his arms out, letting them rest along the back of the couch.

“I told you. He’s not so bad.” His expression was still light. easygoing, but something about the tone felt pointed.

He didn’t push or pry. Just let the words sit between you before turning his attention back to his phone, scrolling through messages, back to being his normal self.

But something about the way he said it this time, made it linger a bit longer.

Jungkook wasn’t so bad.

You weren’t sure why that felt like something worth thinking about.

previous / next / masterlist

taglist: @somehowukook @diame93 @golfjoon @wdym-ree @jkrailme @laross860 @ttipa @rrosiitas @yikes-ukiyo @jjeonjjk7 @isjwshaidsk @minniejim @jimintopiaaaa

#jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fake texts #jungkook smau #jungkook texts #jeon jungkook #bts smau #jungkook fic #fanfic

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spencerinsecret · 2 months ago

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Short Schlatt blurbs <3

This is my first story on tumblr so it might not look awesome

NSFW & SFW !!

Mdni please !!

SFW

Schlatt is VERY good at cooking. He doesn’t like to do it much but he will for you. Whenever he does cook he always makes up an excuse like “you don’t know how to cook this.” But deep down he just wants to show you how much he cares about you. <3

He loves cuddling. He loves when you put your head on his chest or when he gets to be the big spoon. He wants to have his body touching yours at all times, it makes him feel safe.

Schlatt is SO good with kids. Every time one of your friends brings their kids around Schlatt is the first to say hi to them. And of course he always kneels down to be their height so they don’t hurt their neck looking up at him.

Believe it or not he’s not afraid or embarrassed to go get you tampons or pads. He doesn’t care , he’ll text you asking what kind you need and he will make sure it’s the correct kind.

•He loves watching you sing along to songs. If it’s in the car and it’s a song you like? He will turn up the volume. Even if it’s in your house or his , if y’all are ever listening to music he’ll make sure it’s a song you like. (Meaning that he usually lets you play your playlists)

NSFW UNDER THE CUT !!

• this man absolutely LOVES praising you any chance he gets. Like “you’re doing so good for me baby.” Or “taking me so well.” and of course “you look so beautiful” it doesn’t matter what you guys are doing during sex , you will be praised.

• Schlatt is open to try anything you want. Pain? Of course! Rough? Totally! New position? You got it! Literally anything , he is open to try. (Unless it’s like very very weird ofc)

•he is the best at overstimulating you. Not letting you cum until he does. He will make sure you’re out of it by the time you both finish. And of course he’s gonna do it everytime you guys have sex (unless you say otherwise)

•Aftercare is always amazing with Schlatt. (Like what I said with cuddling) after you both cum he’ll pull out and go grab stuff to clean you up with. After he’s cleaned you up and gotten you settled , he lays down beside you , gently stroking your hair. Saying little praises in your ear. Kissing you oh so softly and letting you know how much he loves you.

The end <3

#schlatt #schlatt smut #twitch streamer #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #fanfic #schlatt x reader

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puckinghischier · 24 days ago

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so i have this hyper specific vision of forcing nico to listen to country music because i’m a southern girly through and through. i know he’s a rap enthusiast, but i just have this feeling he would lowkey love country music. and i feel like i’ve talked about this before on here but i’m gonna talk about it again.

you would throw it at him every chance you got. in the car when he gives you music control, when you’re cooking dinner, when you’re cleaning the house, when you’re in the shower, literally anytime you can play it with him around, it’s on.

and he complains. oh boy does he complain about it.

“haven’t we listened to enough? i know you like tupac, put some tupac on already.”

“schatz, don’t you think it’s my turn? you got to listen to your playlist while we cleaned the bathroom, i get to pick the music for cleaning the kitchen.”

“y/n…these songs all sound the same. they talk about the same trucks, girls, and dirt roads. can we PLEASE listen to something with some variety? jack always wants to listen to country in the locker room and i can’t stand it in my home, too.”

you’d just giggle and change it, knowing that one day you’d convince the swiss rap king that country music is worthwhile.

when the team would play in nashville you’d always tag along, dragging nico out to all of your favorite bars after the game to listen to all of the amazing, undiscovered talent on broadway. you’d hop from place to place, letting the music lure you in to all the different doors.

nico would watch as you enjoyed the covers each artist performs, loving watching you in your element despite his aversion to the music.

“you think if i asked nicely they’d whip up a good lil’ wayne cover?” he’d lean down to whisper in your ear as you swayed to the music, earning a roll of your eyes that elicits a chuckle from his own mouth. but the more bars you two visit and the more drinks he consumes, he begins to think that maybe country music wasn’t so bad.

you’d noticed that over time, he stops complaining about the constant flow of the twangy music flowing through the speakers in your car. he’d listen and even hum along to a few, tapping his fingers on his knee in rhythm.

and when you’d have your weekly apartment cleaning sessions, he quit asking you to change the song and instead started swaying along to the melodies with you.

you knew you’d won him over, however, when you had your typical country playlist playing when you were in the shower one night, and ‘remember when’ by alan jackson started ringing out in the space of your bedroom while you were getting dressed.

this song was near and dear to you, because it was one of your mom’s favorite songs when you were a kid. anytime it came on the radio in the car all conversations stopped and she made everyone listen. your favorite memories of the song, though, was anytime it would come on the country music countdown on CMT.

your mom would always have the music channel on while cooking dinner or getting ready in the mornings so her music would flow through your home, and every single time this song came on, without fail, your dad would stop what he was doing and slow dance with your mom. no matter what she was doing or where in the house she was, they always danced.

so when nico came up to you, grabbed your water-wrinkled hands, and starting swaying both of you in time with the music, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. and when he started singing the words to you, you had to fight everything in you to not start crying.

the two of you danced to and sang the entire song right there in your bedroom together. swaying and basking in each other’s presence far longer than the length of the song.

once you snapped out of your little love struck daze, you leaned up to give him a small peck before stepping back, needing to brush your messy, half dry hair before it gets any more out of hand.

“thought you hated country music, swiss man,” you teased before you walked away, cocking your head and placing hands on your hips to emphasize your point.

“yeah well…i realized that anything that brings you so much joy can’t be that bad. plus, i think i look great in a cowboy hat,” he references your current phone lockscreen, a picture from your last nashville trip together where you forced him to buy a ridiculously overpriced cowboy hat because he needed to ‘embrace his inner cowboy and look the part when on broadway.’

you roll your eyes at his cheekiness, reach up to pinch around his dimple.

“whatever works, cowboy.”

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aeruia · 11 months ago

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⌕. WIND BREAKER

⟳. “ DID I IMPRESS YOU? ”

how would the wbk boys impress you to catch your attention or they want you to praise them?

character/s : sakura haruka , suo hayato , togame jo , kaji ren , umemiya hajime , kiryu mitsuki .

warning/s : suo’s part is like 50/50 so uhm !! you can decide if it’s part of it or not ! , ooc characters ( im sorry sighs )

word count : 100+ each

note : i have motivation to write so might as well make the best of it !! i’m also planning to make suo’s part a separate fic uhm..

sakura haruka — 119 words

i don't know but i think sakura would try to impress you by showing how he’s good at fighting but when you praise him for that or he got your attention because of that he gets flustered easily and tries to brush it off saying he’s not doing it to impress you when it’s clearly written on his face.

you can only laugh when he says that you’ll probably won't even believe anything he says and just look at his face to see if he meant it or not.

“ where have you been all these years my knight in shining armor? ” you teased him, your hands clasped together in return he looked away with a blush on his face.

suo hayato — 165 words

bro doesn't even need to impress you because you’re already impressed by him !! he’s a gentleman everyone knows and that’s also how you're already impressed because why is he so gentle? so whenever you two are together people will mistake that you and suo are dating because of how considerate suo whenever he’s with you.

you’ll never even catch him irritated whenever you let him carry your school bag or the things you bought, he’s just there following you with a smile on his face.

“ why are you doing this every time we are together? ” you asked as you take a spoonful of ice cream in your cup and eat it. “ i’m close to falling for you, you know. ” you said half jokingly when he chuckled as he wiped the ice cream from the side of your mouth. “ i’ll wait for the day you fall for me. ” he replied making you speechless and a blushing mess as you just continue to eat your ice cream.

togame jo — 118 words

did a bit of research and seems like he plays go and shogi so uh he would probably invite you to watch him play with shogi with someone.

he knew he would win it and obviously you are in awe saying how good he was at shogi so you invite him to play with you after he plays a couple of rounds. you weren't good at playing shogi but you wanna test out your skills.

he beat you once or twice then after that then lets you win every round. “ wow, togame i didn't know i’m the only one who can beat you! ” you quip making him chuckle as he nodded. ” guess you're too good at this game. ”

kaji ren — 166 words

you heard that the music playing in his headphones are something that can damage his eardrums but it seems like his ears don't even hurt so you would let him try one of your favorite music to see if he likes it.

when you two were taking a walk around the town, you were rambling about your favorite band and how cool and good their music are. kaji didn't let that slip in his mind and listened to their music when he got home.

the next day, you suggested one of their songs and his response was he had listen to it and taking a liking to the song and it was now on his playlist. your eyes widen and smiled. “ really? its a good music isn’t? you got a good taste in music! ” you praise as you pat his back as if he’s choking on something. it just made you more even happy that he has one of your very favorite song in his playlist.

umemiya hajime — 195 words

you helped him plant some seeds in the rooftop since you don’t have anything to do and everybody knows that umemiya is a man that cares for everyone. let’s imagine umemiya has like one of those portable stove hidden in the rooftop 😭😭 so you were flabbergasted when you just saw him casually take out a portable stove. he remembers that he doesn't have enough ingredients to cook something so he apologizes for that and quickly run into kotoha’s cafè to get a few ingredients. when he got the ingredients you just watched him.

you watch the white haired man cook something in front of you — you didn't even know he has the skills to cook! clearly you’re impressed since you can’t cook to save your life. ( if you would even cook it’s burnt. ) he probably learned it with kotoha. when he finished cooking he gave you a portion of food he had cooked for you two. you gave it a ten out of ten. it was delicious as you thanked him for it.

“ never knew you could cook, maybe i’ll hire you as my personal chef in the future. ” you said jokingly making umemiya snort.

kiryu mitsuki — 145 words

if you invite him to play a game with him he will accept it without hesitation even if you're bad at it or you just started playing he would help you and will still play with you even if you’re the worst player in the game.

would probably try to impress you to fish out some compliments from you and it works like a charm. “ damn, didn’t knew you’re so good at this! ” you would say as he just laughed wholeheartedly.

he probably won’t even try to hide that he’s trying to impress you. “ i should be good at all these games so i can carry you and impress you, y’know. ” he says that with a smile plastered on his face.

if you two are not talking about games or anything you’re gonna comment about how good he smells because of the perfume he uses.

date posted 062324

#wind breaker x reader #wbk x reader #sakura haruka x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #kiryu mitsuki x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya x reader #kaji ren x reader #kaji x reader #wbk fluff #wind breaker fluff

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7ndipity · 3 months ago

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Valentines Day

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would celebrate Valentine's Day with their S/o.

Warnings: suggestive,

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I thought I’d write something cute for Ot7 to celebrate. Whether you have plans today or not, know that you deserve all the candy and flowers in the world!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: Oh this sappy boy, I love him soo much. He’s planning a classic romantic candle lit dinner at home, cooked by none other than himself, with those cute little heart shaped chocolates like he bought on Run!Seokjin for dessert. He has red roses waiting for you, as well as a tiny little box with something like a beautiful heart shaped necklace or pair of earrings inside(he’s very intentional about not giving you any rings as gifts until he proposes). It’s all very cozy and classically romantic, just like him.

Yoongi: He would plan a very intimate night together, starting with a quiet dinner together, either at home or one of your favorite restaurants, bringing you a lovely bouquet of mixed flowers(and chocolates). After dinner, he’d take you on a late night drive out of the city so that you can see the stars, listening to the special playlist he made and talking until a song starts that you don’t recognize, realizing as it plays that it’s about the two of you. He’d spent the past month writing and recording it secretly just for you.

Hobi: Omg he would be soo fucking cute and extra! He would start the day by sending a soo many flowers(and balloons, unless you hate those) to your place, and then taking you out for brunch and shopping. The two of you would finish off the day with dinner at one of your favorite places, and then desert back at his place while y’all wear matching pajamas(bc he loves matchy things). I see him surprising you with something like a special charm bracelet with charms that are all references to your relationship.

Namjoon: I see him planning something very chill and Joon-ish for the two of you. He would book a private museum date, followed by dinner at a fancy restaurant, and then the two of you would go for a walk along the Han river, talking about everything and anything over ice cream. You’d end up back at his place, talking(and other things) for half the night until you fall asleep. When he wakes up at like 3am, he suddenly remembers your gift, gently waking you up to give you a tiny velvet box with a ring inside🥹

Jimin: I see him planning a very cute, cozy night in for the two of you. He’d set up a lil picnic and blanket fort in his living room, complete with flowers and your favorite snacks and candies, one of you favorite movies ready and waiting on the tv or on a projector, so that the two of you can cuddle together while watching(though truthfully, he has no intention of y’all seeing much of the movie, hehe😏). He’d surprise part-way through the evening with a super sentimental gift like a necklace with both your birth flowers as the pendant.

Taehyung: This man was made for valentines day. He’s bringing you a sweet bouquet of roses when he picks you up, taking you to a romantic dinner at one of the nicest places in town. Brings you back to his place where he has candles and rose petals set up, playing a playlist he spent waay too long crafting so you can dance together, things eventually turning more intimate and steamy, taking his time with you because he wants it to be romantic. At some point in the evening, he slips a gorgeous bracelet onto your wrist that probably has both your initials engraved on it.

Jungkook: I see him picking something really laid back and fun for the two of you, requesting you arrive in pajamas, as he’s constructed a massive pillowfort in his living room for the two of you so you can watch videos, play games, and sing karaoke together, though it will inevitably dissolve into the two of you just making out half the night. He’ll likely get too excited/impatient to give you your gift, randomly shoving it into your hands, nervously bouncing in his seat as you open the matching couple rings he designed special for the two of you.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

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ladsheadcanoncorner · 3 months ago

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domestic things ♡ - lads headcanons

prompt: random domestic headcanons about your life with the boys (i feel like we need this after the announcement of the new valentine's banner, like pls let me picture our boys as sweet and kind before i get too feral) rating: sfw cw: mentions of food and eating ✉︎♡: ask box open, tumblr users + anons

Xavier: -Three of his favorite activities with you are as follows: cuddling on the couch, playing video games with you, and cuddling on the couch while playing video games with you -He’s good at literally all of them. If you’re good too then he’ll get pretty competitive, and if you’re not then he’ll make sure to let you win once or twice so you don’t want to quit -Has two mini bunny plushies holding hands on his desk at work. If any of your coworkers confront him about it, he’ll just smile and tell them that they’re a rare, inseparable pair -Will instantly fall asleep if you play with his hair at all. Even the slightest head scratch has him dozing off. Playing with his hair is the most comforting thing in the world -He used to give you bites of his food whenever you would ask at the beginning of the relationship, but now he purposefully leaves the parts he knows you’ll want on his plate. The crispiest french fry, or the juiciest dumpling, or the piece of cake with a little bit of extra frosting are yours every time -If you confront him about it, he’ll just shrug and say that he’s full, but the smile on his face when he watches you happily eat it says otherwise

Zayne: -Nothing is more relaxing to him than coming home from a long day, snuggling together on the couch, and reading books -He always asks you to describe the scene you just read whenever he hears you gasp or smile, and you have him summarize the latest findings in his medical journals -Has photos of you in his office, and little trinkets from your time together. He even has a stash of old receipts, ticket stubs, and those paper admittance bracelets safely stored in a memory box -The two of you try to go out and get fresh air whenever you have days off together. Even if it is as simple as walking through the park, Zayne loves any excuse to get to hold your hand and see the world together -Likes playing board games and will get adorably frustrated if you aren’t listening to the rules or don’t take your turn in a timely manner. This TikTok is literally him

Rafayel: -Names all his fish after things that remind him of you. One is named after your favorite dessert, your favorite color, the first place you went out to dinner, and that noise you make when you’re surprised (that one is your least favorite fish, evidently) -This man cannot tie a tie. I said what I said. Before he met you, he rarely wore one anyway, but now if he has an extremely formal art auction to attend, he always comes to you for help -Will kiss your forehead and tease you whenever you tie it for him, but you can’t deny the way his cheeks flush with gratitude -Most likely of the boys to have multiple conversations going with you across multiple platforms -You’ll be texting about your plans for the weekend, sending each other funny videos on social media, and having a whole ass different convo complete with detailed drawings on SnapChat all at the same time

Sylus: -Likes to have themed dinners with you. Most of the time he’ll let you pick the menu, but he also has his fair share of good ideas -Think like 1920s Speakeasy, Build Your Own Pizza Night, Around the World Buffet, etc. etc. -Makes playlists specifically for driving around town with you. Of course, he will sing along to all of the words and he makes sure to sing the love songs directly to you -Of course you guys have a housekeeper, but on days where the housekeeper isn’t there, Sylus likes to clean with you -It’s mostly just an excuse so he can chase you up the stairs with the feather duster, pinning you to the ground to tickle you until you squeal

Caleb: -Loves to dance with you, even if no music is playing -If you’re in the kitchen getting a midnight snack, he’ll sneak up behind you and spin you into his arms, letting the refrigerator light flicker on the floor as he twirls you around -Even though he’s a successful colonel now, he still loves going thrifting with you -The two of you make it a mission to find outfits for each other, and will do a mini fashion show when you get home -Aside from Xavier (because canonically sleepy), Caleb is the most likely to fall asleep while watching a movie or TV with you -You: “Wow! I can’t believe that just happened!” Caleb: “Mmm…yeah…crazy.” -Cue you playfully smacking him with a pillow to wake him up, and him adamantly protesting that he was awake the whole time, all while he snuggles your waist even closer

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kiss-me-muchoo · 9 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? || 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ living the most perfect relationship turned out to be a sharp pain, your boyfriend Reed Richards was married and you didn’t knew, but thankfully, after the storm comes a rainbow.

Warnings_ age gap (not specified, but reader is in uni), ANGST, ANGST, implied smut, retro references, I hate home-wreckers but this is for the plot, DO NOT romaticize this shit irl.

Notes_ I HAVE A REASON TO ADD THE JOE QUINN TAG, PLEASE READ JOHNNY STORM LOVERS, and listen to how did it end?, please please please and Be My Baby with this, worth it.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist | Reed + Johnny playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆇𓆸

The subway was awfully quiet yet at full capacity. You assumed everyone was minding their business as usual, but you thanked them because you could perfectly hear the radio of an elderly man playing “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes, and it made you smile.

Reed loved when you casually hummed and danced to the song as you cooked.

Oh, you were so in love.

It was at the beginning of your third semester of university when you met him. Being so introverted made it sweet and easy when you stepped into the wrong classroom, expecting an art class. Reed Richards, the physics professor let you know you were not in advanced sculpting class. He was so enchanted by your beehive hairstyle matching purple skirt and top, with a lilac sweater that had tiny embedded jewels.

He went to look after you that afternoon, learning you were at least past your teenage years and that you were not a science person like him.

And the rest was history, after months of having casual dates, he visited you often, and even met your parents. You loved him.

Reed was extremely smart. Always brings you the right gifts although you never ask him for anything. Always suggesting the best places to have dinner. It was like he had everything perfectly measured to make you happy.

I'll make you happy, baby,

just wait and see

For every kiss you give me,

I'll give you three.

Your stop was next and you enjoyed the rest of the song as you savored the feeling of being in love.

Walking through the streets you realized you had nothing else to do for the rest of the week regarding academic stuff. You also were expecting to arrive before the sunset at your home to start dinner. Reed was coming and your parents were going to join you two too.

For a moment you don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before.

Your dad opened a bottle of wine when you heard a knock on the door and that had you already blushing. You placed more raspberries and sliced lemon pieces on top of the cake you started as soon as you arrived home.

Reed greeted your parents and they welcomed him kindly.

“Our girl is in the kitchen,” your dad said.

“On my way to her,” you giggled, hearing his footsteps.

Immediately his hands came to lock around your waist. Which startled you but soon made you laugh.

“Hello, my love,” he said kissing your cheeks from behind.

“Reed! I’m trying to finish the cake” Giggling and trying to get away from him, he made you spin around before pulling closer and finally plastering a big kiss on your lips.

You melt into his touch in a second.

“Too bad I have more appetite for kissing my girl” you gently pushed him, returning to finish the cake.

“Don’t be like that… I put my heart in this one” Reed got closer, admiring your cooking skills. He then moved his eyes to appreciate you. His smile grew as his heart started beating faster.

“You sing, you dance, you sculpt, cook and bake. Darling, you’re perfect!”

“Kiss me again and I might believe it, baby” his silly smile made you chuckle, accepting his embrace and another kiss. It took you by surprise when gently pinned you against the counter, making you let out a gasp after feeling his manhood brushing your inner thigh.

“Are we still up for dinner?” Your mother called, peeking through the door of the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Yes. Sorry, Mom” you apologized feeling a sudden sense of embarrassment. Reed let you go, immediately helping you to grab some plates.

“We’ll continue this in the studio, darling” his hand reached out and gave you a soft spank in the ass, making your eyes wide open.

“Reed!”

“I said what I said, dear”

You would never deny his touch. The way the mere brush of the tip of his fingers could set you on fire and he perfectly knew the spots to make your body burn. So you just smiled naughtily. When he turned to see you again, you gained the courage to show him the outline of your shiny mint underwear that was lying under your dress.

“You’re killing me, y/n”

“After dinner, you can do everything to stop me”

His face was priceless, he blushed and looked adorable being so.

“How does it feel this summer without teaching?” You heard your father asking Reed after you gently pushed him out of the kitchen.

Between the laughs of your family and boyfriend, and the soft music playing in the background, you feel very happy.

…

“Reed…” you moaned his name as you watched his face under the hem of your dress. His lips were constantly licking your wet folds and had you biting your own hand to prevent louder moans.

“Darling… you are so pretty moaning like that for me” his hands snaked through your ass to the back of your knees, opening your legs even wider.

You were so close, your eyes closed in advance and you grasped at his hair harder.

yes, yes, yes, oh!… oh no.

His watch oddly beeped. The bubble of pleasure exploded, leaving only ashes of what had been the lust.

“I gotta go…” you frowned.

“What?… Why?”

“A friend. From work… he has a deadline for professors, I promised I would send him some of my archives to save him time,” he said and it only made you frown more.

“Can’t you send him the archives at least after making me reach an orgasm?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll pick you up tomorrow to have breakfast at your favorite place. Then we can have some fun time in my car” he attempted to soothe your worries but it clearly didn’t work.

“Oh… okay, Reed”

He kissed your forehead before squeezing your hand and finally leaving.

The bitter taste of uncertainty hit you. And before you could even prevent it, you were distrusting Reed.

The next morning, while he talked about how lovely you looked and how great was his breakfast, you barely paid attention. While he took your body to the backseat of his car, more than pleasure you felt uncertainty again.

And no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you didn’t believe Reed.

…

It’s all in the past three weeks later. Everything went back to normal, dates were perfect again, and sex was pure gold again. You had no complaints about your relationship with your much older boyfriend.

Even better when he announced he got tickets to see The Beatles on Saturday.

You got your hair straightened. A black turtleneck dress, red seen-through tights, and matching red heels.

Your eyeliner was more perfect than ever. And Reed came to pick you up with a huge bouquet of flowers.

“How did you get the tickets, love?” you asked as he drove.

“Oh, I have a friend who works in the media. A dating show has its target audience set…”

You wonder what show he meant. There were some popular shows on the TV airing at the time. That’s long short story when you notice Reed had been watching you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I love the sight of you…” his words made you blush. Much more when he leaned to give you a quick kiss that you enjoyed as if it was the last. His beard tickled you and only made you smile more.

“I don’t want to die without seeing The Beatles, Reed” He started laughing and soon you followed with a giggle.

He pulled into a parking lot, and you already felt excited, seeing the crowds making line to go inside the venue, waiting for the concert to begin.

“Oh, I’m so excited!” You squealed, hurrying to apply some more lipstick before getting out of the car.

“Honey, you don’t need more makeup, you already look gorgeous,” Reed said.

“But it’s your favorite color” he looked, noticing it was indeed his favorite color, crimson red.

“Damn right… it is my favorite color” Both of you laughed as you started walking outside of the parking lot.

He placed his arm around your shoulders but soon you remember.

“Wait!… I forgot my coat” Reed hands you the car keys and you go back.

The last sun's rays hit the car when you open the backseat door. You leaned to grab your coat, but a shimmery item caught your attention.

Locked under the passenger seat, you struggle to grab the object, not being able to see just guided by the touch.

First, you felt a paper and a harder one, like a card. Then, with your pinky fingers, you felt a cold rounded object.

Your heart pounded as you fished the object with your pinky fingers.

An ID from the NASA that belonged to a woman, named Susan Richards aka Sue Storm. She was older, but extremely pretty; blonde, blue eyes, perfect nose, perfect hair, just some years younger than Reed.

A picture of your boyfriend with the same woman of the ID, both looking at the camera, her hand gently placed against his chest, a big diamond in a ring also posing for the picture.

And the ring. The solid proof of your sudden question.

“Darling, Why are you taking so long?”

“You’re married?” You asked, handing him the golden wedding band with one hand and slamming the door of his car with the other.

“Darling…” he tried to reason, but you are enraged, red face and watered eyes.

“Why am I even questioning? Of course, you are married, Reed!” your hand dropped the picture and ID, and his attempts to calm you failed.

You can’t even process what is happening, you are just being consumed by the anger caused by his betrayal.

“We were going through a rough phase. And then I met you. I- I don’t even know what I’m doing right now” he admitted, sighing, accepting he was an asshole and a loser.

“AS IF I CARE!… YOU LIED TO ME!”

“Let me talk and explain, y/n”

You let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to keep the tears from falling. Your head started pounding, your body welcoming the stress.

“No. Don’t call me again, don’t get close to my college department on campus. Just… don’t you ever try to come back into my life again.” he called your name plenty of times, and you heard his footsteps following you, but after leaving the parking lot of the restaurant, he stopped.

After a good time trying to prevent the tears, you started crying. You loudly sobbed, ignoring the few people you encountered while crossing the streets of the vivid city.

By the time you are seated in the subway once again, you don’t realize you have walked more than five blocks. You could only think about Reed.

Every moment with him felt genuine. He was kind, attentive, romantic, and… honest.

Never gave a sign to make you believe you couldn’t trust him, more like the contrary. And that was the worst part.

Maybe you just loved him so hard that it made you blind to see that his love was a lie.

…

The phone rang every day. You never answered. A month passed and you avoided the rest of your life on the beaches of Florida.

Your parents believed Reed took advantage of his P.H. D out of the city, so it was better to break up. But they couldn’t bear seeing their poor daughter going through some breakdown.

And when you came back to the city, the neighbor told you your ex-boyfriend had sent flower bouquets during your vacation, not knowing you were out.

It only made you feel worse. Questioning How could you have missed the signs of him being married?. And now that the damage was done. Did the wife know? Did Reed ever love you?

If he couldn’t be faithful to his wife, certainly not to you.

But those thoughts are the kind of thing that makes you go out with one eye covered in purple eyeshadow and the other in bright orange. Mismatched socks and disheveled hair. Some girls laugh at you when you enter a cafeteria but you honestly don’t give a damn. You just want a sandwich.

After paying, you’re once again daydreaming, overthinking about Reed. Without realizing a man had stood beside you.

“Hey... I saw the girls over there laugh but… I like the way you styled yourself” You turn to see the stranger.

“I’m so lost in the head, I did something bad a while ago, so now I can’t even think straight ahead” you admitted, moving to grab some dressing and napkins while waiting for your order.

“Well, it must’ve been really bad, with all due respect.”

“It was…”

“Is it too bad that I’m curious to know?” He asked and you shook your head, sighing.

“I was dating a married man and I didn’t know,” you said looking down, too embarrassed to look at the guy in the eye.

“It’s not your fault if you didn’t know” it took you by surprise.

“I know. But it pains me so much because it thought it was… real.” a lady called your name, letting you know your order was ready.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling my problems to strangers. Thanks for listening, have a great day” you said, walking away to grab your sandwich.

“Wait!” The man called you.

“I don’t mind hearing. My brother-in-law always says I’m an asshole but I can actually listen to people. If you had no plans… We could have lunch together” he revealed, making you smile gently.

“I was going to take this home and eat alone. So yes, we could have lunch together…” you finally analyzed him. Definitely closer to your age than your failed previous relationship. He was blonde and had kind eyes, that no matter what you wouldn’t trust at all after what happened with Reed. But this man seemed sweet, slightly cheeky, and too much of an extroverted one, but you liked it.

“I didn’t catch your name before,” he said.

“I’m y/n…”

“Johnny… Johnny Storm” You remember it was the same name as Reed’s wife. But you can’t think this man had something to do with them. You can’t live continuing with mixing Reed with every step you took.

“I like your jacket”

“Thanks. I almost set it on fire this morning” You didn’t think he was saying it for real, so you laugh.

And oh, how much things changed after that.

…

Five months later, in the peak of autumn, Johnny and you celebrated your first month together. And accidentally you discovered he had some… abilities regarding fire.

Soon later, he was convinced you had to meet his family, so you agreed.

But when his sister opened the door, your face went pale. The woman in the ID you found in Reed’s car greeted you along Ben Grimm and soon you encountered with the cause of your endless midnights in sorrow.

Reed Richards looked the same. Wearing his usual clothes, the grey hairs above his ears, a charming smile, and an intellectual vocabulary.

Acting like strangers, he greeted you, pretending he never met you, never kissed you, never touched you.

Reed just slipped from you, but you weren’t afraid to walk away, just truly and messily hurt. Then you met Johnny, magically disappearing the weight of your broken heart. Even so, while walking inside the house, talking to the wife of your ex-boyfriend, you felt his eyes on you.

Reed was merely shocked, not knowing anything about you in months, then suddenly walking into his home as Johnny’s new girlfriend. He was horrified, but then he realized that he was no better than his brother-in-law. Reed always thought Johnny was an asshole for cheating on girls and being condescending. But you had truly changed him. Johnny followed you like a lost puppy, Reed questioned if you were a witch. And he accepted he wasn’t over you.

“How on earth did this happen?” Reed asked you during a brief moment of privacy.

“I don’t know, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Mr. Fantastic” you whispered in his ear. Reed saw how your eyes briefly glowed and he feared you, but more than fear, he felt panic about you completely forgetting about him.

As you walked inside the kitchen, following the conversation with Ben and Sue, Reed was witness of how you dropped a picture of his wedding with Sue, without touching it. His blood ran cold.

“What was that?” The blonde woman asked.

“A picture, it fell and the frame cracked a little” Reed calmed her, but he grabbed the item, noticing how it left some of your strange energy. The eerie gleam across the frame made him almost hypnotized, soon he shook his head. He would take that frame to run some tests and discover what the hell were you hiding.

Reed entered the kitchen finally, and saw how Johnny kissed your temple, his hand on the small of your back to lead you towards the table to have dinner. You weren’t lying, you were falling in love with Johnny, but you thought back at Reed. Your heart still belonged to him. And you couldn’t comprehend how did it end?.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @raiyna-rred

Idk, I’m just excited for this movieeeeeee

#pedro pascal x reader #reed richards x reader #johnny storm x reader #joseph quinn x reader

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forlix · 2 years ago

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying?

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile.

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES. From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket.

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge.

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being.

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair.

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each.

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

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