Oh hey, look at that, my first ever suicide baiting hate anon, congrats! Does it make you feel better telling some random guy with a tiny follower count and very little actual influence to kill himself? Do you feel like you've accomplished something? Do you think this is actually effectively fighting against transmisogyny in any meaningful way? Do you want a medal?
By the way, I'm unsure if "TERFs in your reblogs" is referring to TERFs reblogging posts from me, or me supposedly reblogging posts from TERFs. If it's the former, I don't choose who reblogs my posts and I don't check every single person in my notes, but I block every TERF I do see on sight. If it's the latter, I'm honestly skeptical that anon actually knows what a TERF is but if I ever did reblog something from a TERF, I fully invite my followers to DM me or send an ask off anon to let me know so I can block them and delete the post. I think in this case anon probably just thinks criticising any transfem in any way to any degree makes you a violent transmisogynist.
honestly fuck the bible for a lot of reasons but mainly for all the verses about respecting and obeying your parents in everything, because that created such a toxic dynamic between me and my parents in which I can't say anything to them and am expected to stay silent everytime i am wronged and disrespected, which is just... fucked up, honestly.
It had been a week or two since Peni had come over.
Since then, Damian had slowly been entering your life more and more.
He would sometimes barge into your room and join in on whatever you were doing.
One time, he barged into your room while you were teaching Peni how to play the electric guitar.
He didn't even ask to join in. He just sat on your chair and lurked.
You didn't mind Damian joining you; it was nice having someone around a lot.
Sometimes it could get overwhelming, though.
Sure, living with Miguel taught you how to live with others, but Damian would sometimes just...linger.
It also didn't help how you liked being alone sometimes, so it got annoying sometimes.
Especially right now, while you were grocery shopping. With Jason.
He had called you earlier, practically forcing you to hang out with him.
Despite your annoyance, you reluctantly agreed.
Regardless of your hesitance, you kind of missed him. even though you'd rather die than tell him.
You guys haven't hung out in around 7 years.
You couldn't blame him, though. His death took a toll on everyone, and he no longer lived in the manor.
While going through awkward small talk, which mostly consisted of you both complaining about Bruce, you heard a voice go off through the intercom:
"Ms. Y/N Wayne, please make your way to the front; we have something you lost."
You looked at Jason, who looked almost as puzzled as you.
"Did you lose anything?"
"Not that I remember... I've got both my phone and my wallet in my pockets, and that's all I brought with me. Plus, it's strange; they used Wayne instead of O'Hara."
"I'll never get used to your last name changing. Why did you change it anyway?"
"I have my reasons."
"fair enough"
Once you got closer to the front, you saw two very familiar figures.
Peni and Damian.
You mentally facepalmed and decided to lecture them later.
You could see by the look on Peni's face that she was annoyed with Damian.
Damian, on the other hand, looked indifferent and slightly proud.
Seeing Damian made it easy to connect the dots; he was in denial of your last name being changed.
You sighed and apologized to the lady at the front for them.
As soon as you made your way out of the store, bags in Jason's hands (because he refused to let his "baby sister" do any work despite you literally being super-human), you started your lecture.
"How did you two get here? I didn't even bring you with me!"
Immediately after saying that, both Peni and Damian started defending themselves and talking over each other.
You started rubbing your temple, which made them shut up.
"Peni, you go first."
"Why does she get to go first?!"
"Because I said so."
Peni spoke up. "There was an anomaly here. Everyone was trying to contact you, but you weren't responding."
Right. You left your watch in your room by accident.
Peni continued, "I couldn't find where you were because we couldn't track you—"
"Track?!" Both Damian and Jason interjected in unison.
"Life360," Peni continued, "I ended up doing it on my own."
You grimaced, feeling slightly guilty that Peni had to deal with everything on her own.
"Peni, I'm sorry about you having to deal with all of that."
"It's fine; I needed to get away from home for a bit. If I were you, I'd be more concerned about the lecture you're going to get from Jess and Miguel."
You rolled your eyes playfully. "But seriously, how about I get you some ice cream later, my treat?"
"You know I can't refuse ice cream."
You giggled and ruffled her hair. You looked at Damian, who now looked very jealous, and gestured for him to talk.
"TT. I shouldn't have to explain myself."
Peni sighed and explained, "He was lurking, like always."
"I was not!" Damian argued.
You groaned in annoyance and just continued making your way to your car, everyone following behind you, and Damian and Peni still arguing.
After putting everything in the trunk, Damian and Peni begin arguing again.
"I call shotgun!" they both called out, trying to tug on the car handle despite it being locked.
"Get out of my way, you useless piece of filth!" Damian yelled.
"Y/N, tell Damian it's my turn to sit at the front!"
"No, it's my turn!"
"I'm the tallest!" Peni argued
Damian huffed, "I'm the oldest!"
"by, like, a month!"
"I'm still older!"
"I'm the favorite!"
"No, I am!"
"Y/N-! Tell him I'm the favorite!"
"No, I am!"
"Tell us who your favorite is!" they both exclaimed.
"If I told you guys, you'd end up hurting each other." You spoke up.
"Tell us now!"
"Yeah, or I'll get S//der to scare you in your sleep again!"
"Again?" Jason raised a brow.
You chuckled, "You guys are like 5 apples tall; you don't scare me."
They continued arguing, and you started pinching your nose in annoyance.
"Listen, if you guys can't agree on anything, you'll both sit in the back, and Jason will sit in the front."
"That's not fair!" Damian stomped his feet.
"Life isn't fair." You cringed at how you sounded like Bruce.
As everyone settled down and you finally took a breath, Jason spoke up.
"You know, they kind of sound like us when we were younger."
"Really?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "do you remember that one time you broke my hardcover book and we got into a fight?"
"Not really."
"You snuck into my room out of boredom and snooped around. You found a book you thought was 'cute' because the cover was your favorite color. We got into a huge screaming match."
"I don't remember that."
"I swear, Alfred scolded me so hard. He put us both in—" He got cut off by Damian's yell.
You pulled over into a Walmart parking lot.
"What?!" You looked at them.
"Parker just bit me! This is preposterous!"
"He started it! He pulled out his stupid katana!"
"Damian, you know we aren't supposed to have katanas in the car," you stressed.
"Snitch." He gave a nasty look to Peni.
"Alright, I'm getting the shirt out." You got out of the car and started grabbing something from the trunk.
"No!" they groaned. You grabbed a get along shirt and threw it at both of them.
"I am not putting this on."
You glared at him, making him somehow shiver.
"I'm not putting it on either!"
"Do you want me to tell Noir you bit Damian on the arm?"
They put it on begrudgingly, making Jason laugh loudly at how defeated Damian was. You could have sworn you saw a tear fall from his eye.
After forcing them to put on the shirt (and taking away Damian's katana), both of them accepted defeat.
Peni was on her phone, and Damian was looking out the window.
The car was finally silent, with Peni and Damian slowly getting sleepy in the back.
Jason spoke up. "That's what Alfred did with us back when we were younger."
"Deadass?"
"Mhm. I probably have a picture somewhere."
By the time you got back to the manor, Damian and Peni were fast asleep.The shirt worked.
You chuckled and reached to pick them up; Jason stopped you.
"Wait," he pulled out both of your phones. "Take a picture first."
After taking some pictures (and sending one to Noir), you took the shirt off and handed Damian to Jason.
You picked up Peni and took her to your room.
You placed her on your bed, careful not to wake her up.
You looked around for your wristband to take Peni home.
Once you made the portal, you carefully picked up Peni, making sure not to wake her.
You hopped through the portal and carefully made it through her window, and tucked her into bed.
You got back to your room and finally got to relax.
...That was until Jason walked in through the door.
"Can we talk?" he asked. He looked a bit nervous.
You sat up. "What's up?"
"I miss how close we used to be."
"That sucks."
After around 30 seconds of silence, you spoke up again.
"Listen, we can slowly repair us, but you shouldn't expect everything to go back to normal immediately. Especially since I don't even remember what normal is."
"That's fine, I understand. I'll see you around, I guess." He left, closing your door behind him.
☆
About an hour later, you were still in your room, but now tuning your guitar.
You just got done with your online schoolwork and were dying of boredom.
The Little Mermaid musical was playing on the TV in front of you, and you could hear a slight hum coming from the 3DS next to you, which was playing Pokémon.
Was this a little too much? Possibly.
But you were bored and needed to get some sort of stimulation, since you didn't want to go out and have one of your stupid family members follow you. Again.
You sighed and put your guitar down, watching TV instead.
You took notice of the song playing, Part of Your World.
You cringed at an old memory of you, one where you were around eight.
You were quietly singing, almost humming, Part of Your World, hoping that somehow, some way, while hanging around Jason and Dick, he'd see you and play with you too.
You'd daydream for hours on end; most of your daydreams consisted of your family coming to your performances.
You grew up preferring performing arts, music, dance, and theater over most physical activity.
Not that you didn't like some sports; volleyball and soccer would always have a special place in your heart.
Plus, the semester you cheered for was pretty fun.
You also did gymnastics for around 2-3 years just to be like Dick; maybe Bruce would've liked you more if you were just like him?. Which was GREAT for when you became Araña.
But nothing compared to performing and seeing performances.
Both being in the crowd and seeing the crowd gave you a funny feeling, one that gave you adrenaline and made you all giddy and excited.
The first performance you saw was Seussical, on a field trip in second grade.
The Little Mermaid could've been the first, and you begged Bruce to take you to go see it. At some point, he said he'd take you. But he never took you; instead, he took Jason to a bookstore.
You were actually in a play; unfortunately, due to being bitten, now most of your time has to be put into being Araña.
You had to quit halfway through the play you were doing; your excuse was that Bruce no longer had time to take you.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you sighed, pausing the musical, which was now almost halfway done. (How long were you spaced out?) and instead of picking up your phone.
You had no new notifications other than Pinterest telling you that you had good taste.
Normally, the lack of notifications would worry you, seeing as how you and your friends usually talk all day.
But you knew they were most likely busy right now, either with work or schoolwork.
Unlike you, your friends went to school in person.
You missed doing in-person school, but it gave you more time to be Araña.
You put your phone face down and flopped onto the bed.
You didn't know what to do right now.
Your friends are busy, and nothing seems interesting.
You could go shopping again, but that would mean having to bring someone with you.
And full offense, you don't think you can stand being around anyone right now.
Sure, Damian's cool, but you were tired of seeing him everywhere. Jason is most likely going to try and ask to hang out more.
Bruce is awkward with you, plus you don't think you can stand to willingly be around him.
Connected by blood, separated by time.
Tim scares you, Dick tries too hard, and Alfred makes you mad.
You sat up and decided to get a snack.
It was almost time for patrol, and you needed all the energy you could get.
As you made your way down the hallway and past everyone's rooms, you looked at some family portraits.
A couple of them were your grandparents, Martha and Thomas.
The pictures were old and somewhat rusty, but you could feel the love radiating off of them.
Some other pictures were of the family which you weren't even in; no, you didn't feel angry and upset; shut up.
You had some photos of you, only put up recently.
They were from your social media and had your friends awkwardly cut or edited out.
You huffed and continued down the long hallway.
As you started to space out again, you felt your spidey senses go off slightly.
You were now in the living room, where everyone was sitting. Silently.
Dick pat the seat next to him.
Usually, when something like this happened, you'd ignore him and sit literally anywhere else.
Unfortunately, every other spot was taken.
You sighed and sat next to him, a genuine smile taking over his face.
You looked at Bruce, whose face was neutral.
Wanting to break the ice, you spoke up. "What is this, an intervention?"
You looked around to see everyone looking slightly guilty, like they got caught doing something stupid.
"Oh, so it is an intervention." You leaned back, a bit bored already.
Bruce cleared his throat. "We need to talk about you being Araña."
Shit.
You assumed that you all had a silent agreement that no one talked about each other's vigilante lives.
They never actually told you about theirs, so you found no use in telling them about yours.
"We have decided it is safer for you to be on patrol with at least one of us," Dick said casually.
"WHAT?!" you practically yelled, a bit dramatically.
"It's for your own good—"
"This isn't fair! I don't work in groups. I work better on my own." You stood up and argued.
Tim scoffed, "What about when you fight with your little friends?"
"That's different!" You started crying out of frustration. You hated it when they treated you like you were incapable of anything.
Bruce got closer to you, making you subconsciously back up in fear.
"One of us is coming with you. End of discussion."
You huffed and stormed off to your room.
You just wanted a snack.
☆
You were on top of a rooftop, sitting beside Jason and Damian.
They both had to come with you due to them not agreeing on who should go with you first.
Patrol was boring, and you couldn't stand hearing Jason and Damian argue for a moment more.
You were about to swing away when you got a familiar feeling.
"Hey!"
The familiar voice made you turn around in excitement.
Before Damian and Jason could ask who the guy in the red and black costume was, you hurriedly ran and hugged him."Want to get out of here?" Miles asked.
You practically started jittering in place. "Yeah!"
"She's fine, Spider-Boy." Jason put an arm around your shoulder.
"Oh, not again." Miles dragged his hand on his face.
You started laughing harder than Jason had ever seen you laugh. Your eyes were watering, and you were grabbing your ribs.
"I'm very clearly a man; it's in the name!"
"You're never beating the Spider-Boy allegations," you teased.
Jason spoke, "No way, Jose, I'm on babysitting duty."
"I'm 16; I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter." You argued.
"No, you're not. B told me to take care of you—"
Before he knew it, both of you swung away, giggling.
You knew both he and Damian were following you guys using a grappling hook, but they'd be a bit slower.
You and Miles went around stopping a few petty crimes.
After around 10 minutes, you were sure you lost Jason and Damian, even if it was for just a moment.
You guys sat down on a random rooftop.
Miles went ahead and talked about small things that happened lately.
He and Gwen went on a couple of dates, his grades have gone up, and he might get a job soon!
Miles mentioned his family why couldn't you have a family like that? and how they've been more supportive of him since he told them he's Spider-Man.
Miles noticed how quiet you were, which wasn't normal for you.
Usually, you were very chatty and bubbly, so seeing you quiet and calm was worrying him.
He shifted the conversation onto you "So what's going on with you? anything interesting?"
You sighed, flopped down onto the concrete roof, and looked at the stars slowly appearing. "Nothing much. My family suddenly decided I'm incapable of doing anything on my own."
He laid down next to you. "Really?"
"Yep. They won't leave me alone."
"I could tell."
A moment of calm, serene silence passed as you both just stared at the stars.
All the two of you could hear were some cicadas and the sounds of people walking below you.
You smiled, "I missed this."
He looked at you, puzzled, "Missed what?"
"Being with friends. I missed being around my buddies."
Miles's eyes lit up a bit. "We should all hang out together next week!"
"We should! Where do you think we could go?"
You two talked about plans, which didn't really make sense.
You guys decided to plan it later. That's a problem for future you.
After half an hour of you both joking around, Jason and Damian showed up.
You let out a groan in annoyance, and Miles waved goodbye.
You knew once you'd get to the manor, you'd get a huge lecture, one more annoying than the one you were currently receiving from both Damian and Jason.
But all you could think about was how nice it was to get away from them and hang out with a friend for once.
IN WHICH. . . tired of getting dumped by one guy after another, you decided to give dating apps a try. ittle do you know, you ended up matching with one of your classmates: nishimura riki. he's supposed to be a nerd, supposed to be someone who isn't worth looking at. but what you didn't expect was for him to have a strong dick game and most importntly, he's hiding something from you...something you didn't expect at all.
⏔⏔⏔ boarding school au ♪♪ smau + written nerd +camboy nishimura riki x fem! reader 𐧘 classmates to lovers, poor attempt at humour, fluff if you squint, angst with comfort, ignore timestamps.
playlist: touch myself - kwn, cyber sex - doja cat, when did you get hot - sabrina carpenter, how do i make you love me - the weekend.
Knock knock.
True to her words, both Ningning and Soobin arrived at your doorsteps ten minutes later. You opened the door, moving aside to let them in and that's when you noticed the concerning amount of snacks and alcohol held in their hands.
"Don't tell me the three of us is drinking all of that?" You asked nervously as you closed the door behind you.
Ningning shot you a triumphant grin, placing the green soju bottles down on your coffee table, creating a series of loud 'thud' satisfying sounds. "Hell yeah! This calls for a celebration and what better way to celebrate by getting ourselves drunk."
You blinked, bemused. "Celebration?" You repeated, "But I just broke up with my ex and you're calling it a celebration?"
Soobin scoffed, already making himself comfortable on your couch, treating it like your home is his home now. He leaned back into it, resting his legs on the coffee table while opening a packet of potato chips.
"I still can't believed you dated a crypto guy. Out of everyone else, you chose a crypto guy. No words can describe my disappointment."
You glared at him, marching over to sit on the single couch with your legs crossed, accepting the opened soju bottle that Ningning handed to you.
"Hey! I didn't know he's into crypto until we're two months into our relationship."
At this, Ningning raised her head. "He tried to explain Bitcon to us over dinner."
Soobin nodded, shivering at the horrible and awkward memory. "Yeah, he even brought a Powerpoint presentation too."
You spluttered, opening and closing your mouth but you couldn't say anything. Not when they were right, leaving you no choice but to take a few sips from the bottle. Your action earned a loud cheering noise from Ningning, like the supportive best friend she is. Soobin, on the other hand, nodded with approval written all over his face, like the true old man he is.
You sighed, placing the bottle down on the coffee table. "Maybe I'm just destined to die alone. This is my, what? Fifth relationship."
"Don't say that. There's other fishes in the sea. Love isn't as straightforward as one think it is," he pointed out.
Ningning nodded in agreement, leaning forward to take a few sips from the bottle you just drank from. "Soobin's right. And besides, all the guys you've dated before were walking red flags. So it's a good thing that you didn't end up marrying one of them."
"They aren't red flags," you defended, only to shrink into the couch at the unimpressed look your friends gave you.
"I guess it's time to put the evidence I've been collecting to good use," Soobin declared.
Your eyes widened in horror as he whipped out his phone. "Wait, what are you doing?"
He ignored you. "First up, we have Seojun."
You groaned, already knowing where this was going.
"That guy spent more time taking pictures of his watch than talking to you."
"He liked fashion!"
"He liked himself," Ningning corrected you.
"Next is Minho," Soobin continued, unfazed. Your other friend burst out laughing, hands wrapped around the sides of her stomach.
"Oh, that guy. He disappeared for three days because he needed to 'find himself'," she said, doing a quotation action at the last two words.
Soobin nodded grimly. "And he came back with a buzz cut and a podcast. Such is the way of life."
You buried your face in your hands. "Fine, that was bad."
"Bad?" Ningning wheezed. "You cried over him for two weeks."
"He was nice!"
"He had commitment issues. You literally caught him cheating on you."
"Yup, that's a walking red flag right there," Soobin muttered, earning a rough kick to his shins.
"Ow!"
You threw your hands up. "Alright, fine! I get it! My dating history isn't good at all! What am I supposed to do!?"
Ningning, who had been quiet for a suspicious good amount of time, finally spoke up. "I have an idea."
"No," you immediately said, knowing where this was going.
She shot you an offended look. "But I haven't said anything yet!"
"You're gonna say something stupid," you retorted.
She huffed. "Fine, whatever. You should give dating apps a try."
"Yup, no way in hell I'm doing that," you replied.
Soobin looked curious. "Wait, why not? I don't see anything wrong with that."
You slouched further back into the couch, absentmindedly tracing your finger along the armrest while whatever's playing on the television acted as white noise, humming in the background.
"I hate the concept. Judging people based on a few pictures and a short bio? Swiping left and right like you're shopping online? It's weird."
"But it works. Some people end up dating or even get married," he pointed out.
"Yeah. Keyword being some," you repeated.
Ningning sighed, exasperated. "(Name), you're being dramatic. There's nothing wrong in giving it a try. Who knows, you might end up finding your soulmate on Tinder. Whoever he is, he's better than every other guys you've dated before."
You scoffed. "My soulmate isn't on Tinder."
Ningning arched an brow. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. After all, life's full of surprises."
> be me
> dumbass
> barely graduate high school
> decide to enlist in the army 'cause I don't know what to do with my life
> spend six weeks in training, then immediately deployed to Europa
> shitshitshit.jpg
> it's exactly as bad as you think it is
> war is hell and hell has frozen over
> get dumped into this trench complex in Arran Chaos defending a big ice harvesting operation
> "p-something ice extraction and research"
> founded by some big tech guy on Earth apparently
> most of us are stationed around their big office building instead of the ice fields
> whatever at least it breaks up the horizon
> nothing around but ice and rocks and our trenches and the other guys' trenches and bodies and stars
> can't even see Jupiter
> fuckingcomeon.ogg
> they've got this big sign with their logo a hundred yards or so from the entrance
> just a bunch of big metal letters
> theyre like two feet high each
> that's where they've got me and this dude kyle camping out
> only thing between us and the...*other guys* are some sandbags and the aforementioned bigass metal letters
> plus my MA-75 and my heatsuit and kyle and his heatsuit and his MA-75
> not that the heatsuits are worth much
> coldasfuckhere.xlsx
> can't even stay above 280 kelvin
> i think that's something like fifty degrees fahrenheit
> feels like thirty
> whatever at least we just have to sit here and not get shot
> direct quote from the lieutenant
> nobody is willing to leave their trenches so it's mostly just sitting around waiting to get sniped
> not much to really do but shoot the shit complain about the cold and eat the mres in our heatsuits
> so we do
> kyle is cool
> i like kyle
> we alternate twelve-hour shifts so we only chat when the other is supposed to be sleeping
> but sleeping is hard and talking is easy
> kyle deployed the week before me
> was stationed here alone until i showed up
> begs the question why we're defending this fucking sign if they know its worth leaving unguarded half the time
> why the hell aren't we out in the ice fields
> why the hell are we fighting over ice in the first place
> sign's probably more valuable by weight
> kyle laughs
> we talk about our home lives for a while
> neither of us did much interesting
> kyle's mom was really into astrology apparently
> we start trying to name constellations
> i'm no good at it
> he tells me hes gonna finally try to get some shuteye
> and leans into me
> for warmth, probably
> the heatsuits don't conduct much but it feels good anyway
> start to doze off myself
> fuck this sign and fuck this building and fuck this moon i'll do whatever i want
> set down my rifle and wrap my arms around kyle
> for warmth, probably
> fall asleep
> dream of california and beach volleyball
> wake up groggy
> really groggy
> something hurts
> my head?
> something...a sound
> theres a loud sound
> it keeps going and going and...
> fuck
> its the heatsuit's oxygen alarm
> struggle to sit upright
> something heavy on me
> its kyle
> he's not moving
> take stock of my surroundings
> shrapnel everywhere
> don't see oxygen tank
> or our umbilicals
> heatsuit's switched to a backup but it's leaking
> there's this film of red ice everywhere
> ...
> kyle...
> i roll him over and there are so many holes
> glance over the sandbags
> see a glint from a distant trench
> duck down and hear something hit the ice behind me
> fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
> FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
> rage
> grab my rifle and start spraying over the barrier
> no response
> probably didnt hit him but id like to think i did
> oxygen is running out
> goodbye hell world
> close eyes for second time today
> dream of nothing
> wake up groggy again
> in field hospital
> goddammit
> whole thing was captured by a satellite
> so they sent a patrol to go recover our equipment
> im lucky to be alive they say
> sure
> end up spending a sol in the hospital
> they ship me back to the sign after that
> same rifle and even the same heatsuit
> bastards didnt even clean it off its still got his blood on it
> still not sure what the objective of this post even is
> alone
> freezing my ass off
> too cold
> cant sleep
> too much blood
> spend a couple sols half-awake sprawled face-down in the ice
> not gonna hit me again
> eventually rotate back to the fob for a sol
> sign is unguarded the whole time
> what am i even doing here
> skulk around the barracks for a while
> overhear that a big inspection of the ice company's facilities is coming up in the next couple sols
> gonna be a big push among the grunts to clear out the snipers so the bigwigs can check the place out
> everybody is writing letters home for when they dont come back
> i, of course, am being sent back alone to the fucking sign
> lieutenant tells me that if my station isn't up to spec they're sending my ass to callanish to die painfully
> direct quote
> fine
> decide im sick and tired of being so goddamned cold out there though
> talk to the fob quartermaster about taking a heat lamp into the field
> he tells me its too dangerous with all the thermal optics the enemy is using
> i tell him he can have my next ten sol's pay
> he hands over the lamp
> hell if im gonna last that long out here
> rotate back to the sign
> heat lamp makes things more tolerable but its a big battery-powered thing so i cant keep it on all the time
> spend another sol lying flat on the ice
> pick out a star near orion and name it kyle
> maybe ten minutes before the inspectors show up i just wig out
> start yelling and throwing things
> knock over part of the sign
> the big letter 'I'
> fuck it and fuck the ice it stands for and fuck me
> calm down
> inspectors are gonna be here any minute now
> fuck i dont wanna go to callanish
> i dont wanna die
> i dont wanna die
> i dont wanna die
> i dont wanna die
> i dont wanna die
> try to stand the sign back up
> wont stay upright
> shitshitshit
> hide the letter under a tarp
> look around for something to replace it
> grab the heat lamp
> MFW I'm Pixar
𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀. — Robert R. x Reader with a sweet tooth!
warnings: none, this is practice character sketching.
working at SDN has been... enigmatic, to say the least, you can't exactly complain since the pay is actually pretty good for what it was worth, not that you had a bunch of job prospects up your sleeve, either. point to be noted.
your newest co-worker, robert robertson, with his peculiar name but a likable personality has also been rather enigmatic. T'was his first week but he seemed to be getting the hang of it rather easily, i guess that's what happens when blonde blazer herself teaches you the fine things, no? anyway, you had no qualms, the guy was nice, easy to talk to and actually seemed to be serious about what he was doing, he also seemed to be going through some stuff. you can't really blame the guy tho.
you didn't MEAN to eavesdrop, but fresh gossip wasn't something regularly at SDN, at least not the ones you were used to, and when you saw invisagal and robert talkin- or rather, arguing about something, you couldn't help but listen just a little bit more.
and that's where you found out that Mr. new guy dad bod was none other than the "infamously" talked about mechaman, or mechadick as you read in one of the comment sections of the several articles written about him, or his... downfall rather.
"eavesdropping conversations isn't exactly professional behaviour, y/n". Robert said while working on some paperwork during the end of your shifts.
your blood ran cold, you didn't expect him to actually confront you, or a good question rather, how did he know?
"I uh, I don't know what you're talking about". you tried to play it off.
"agh get outta here with that, just, keep this between the two of us.. and uhh blonde blazer, mkay? look.. Im already going through some shit as it is and I don't need unnecessary attention at my workplace, I'm sure you understand".
you just looked at him for a moment before smiling and going "okay okay, jeez you didn't leave me a chance to defend myself... okay, mecha-co-worker is between us..and..uh blonde blazer"
to that he relaxed his shoulders a bit and smiled back at you, "thank you, so, I know this is a bit abrupt, but, are you free after this? there's this cafe nearby which I'm pretty sure is open until 3 am, wanna grab a bite?"
that caught you off guard, your new co worker has picked up a habit of catching you off guard it seems, "are you asking me out on a date?".
"maybe, not exactly, just co-worker bonding time- sure, a date, let's just call it that, easier that way".
you giggled, "has anyone told you you're quite the unintentional charmer?".
"nope, first time". he replied back smirking.
20 minutes later, and the two of you were sitting at the cafe, it had a rather cozy vibe and chill atmosphere, you were asking yourself why you hadn't checked the place out earlier.
"what do you wanna order?" you broke the silence, that's when you took a good look at him, his face was tilted down towards the menu, and you could see the crinkles around his eyes, his soft stubble which was probably shaven yesterday, and just the way he seemed so... "soft", yeah, if you could describe him in a glance, soft would be the word to go for.
"I'm thinking their fried chicken and waffles, heard it's pretty good". he responded.
"that does sound good". you added, before you could say what you were gonna order, Robert cut you off with a "you should try their maple drenched fluffcakes, add the berries on the side, my treat. you've got a sweet tooth don't ya?".
you stared at him for a moment, "and how do you know that? I'll give you points if you can make the answer less creepy". you retorted.
"i overheard you cursing in the communal dining room, genius. yelling at the fridge would not have gotten your pancakes back".
"so you were eavesdropping huh?". you said unable to hold back a smile.
"walking in on something doesn't count as eavesdropping, try again".
"whatever, this makes us even, and sure, if it's your treat, I'm adding the berries". you said while looking at him, the smile never leaving your face.
"Alright". and with that robert moved the menu to the side and called a server, but you weren't thinking about any of that, right now, the only thing that was going on in your mind was how this entire night was unfolding, that feeling in your chest? probably butterflies... probably a sharp pain you should probably get checked out. but none of that mattered at the moment, you had some maple drenched fluffcakes to go to town on.
Summary: you support Stray Kids and you most definitely do not want Lee Know... Spoiler alert: you do. You just... can't.
Warnings: lots of angst but the end will be worth it!
Word count: 8.1k.
a/n: I didn't expect the first part to get so much love and I felt so much pressure to make this good lmao. Probably not the best formatting but I was in my flow state and I promised this today so here it isss...
Part One
Bora was standing in the doorway, staring. Her expression was a mixture of shock and hurt until it finally morphed into something much, much worse.
Fury.
“Oh,” she said, a hollow, disbelieving laugh slipping out. “Oh, I get it now.”
Your stomach dropped.
“It’s not—” you started, but the words felt useless the second they left your mouth.
“Not what?” she snapped, stepping forward. “Not exactly what it looks like? Because it looks pretty clear to me.”
“It’s not like that,” you tried again, even though you didn’t even know what that meant anymore.
“Really?” she shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like my best friend is making out with the guy she pushed me towards herself!”
Every word hit like a slap.
“I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what?” she demanded. “Didn’t think I’d find out? Didn’t think I’d notice how weird things got? How he suddenly pulled away from me?”
Silence.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
“I told you everything,” she continued, her voice shaking now—not with uncertainty, but anger. “I trusted you. I thought you were on my side. You were meant to be my best friend.”
“I am,” you said quickly. “I am—”
“No,” she cut in sharply. “You’re not.”
That cut deeper than anything else.
“You had feelings for him,” she said, her eyes locking onto yours. “Didn’t you?”
You couldn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Because your silence said everything.
Her expression twisted. “Wow,” she whispered. “That’s… that’s actually pathetic.”
“Hey-” Lee Know tried to interject. Tried to defend you when you couldn’t even defend yourself, because part of you thought maybe you deserved it.
“You could’ve told me,” she went on as if he hadn’t even spoken. “At any point. But instead, you let me embarrass myself. Let me believe something was happening—while you were—” She gestured sharply between you and him. “—doing this behind my back?”
“It wasn’t like that,” you said again, weaker this time.
“Then what was it like, Y/N?” she demanded.
You opened your mouth but nothing came out because there was no version of this that didn’t hurt her. No explanation that made it okay.
She let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable,” she scoffed before looking at him. “And you,” she said, her voice cold now. “You just went along with it?”
His expression tightened slightly, but he didn’t look away. “I told you,” he said evenly. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” she shot back. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Silence fell again. Thick. Heavy. Suffocating. Broken only by the sound of her stepping back toward the door.
“I don’t even want to look at you right now,” she said, her voice quieter, but no less sharp.
The words weren’t just aimed at him. They were aimed at you. You didn't know how to process the idea of your best friend not wanting to see you... You'd never, ever experienced this before. It felt like your heart was splitting in two in your chest.
The door slammed behind her as she stormed out, and just like that, everything you had been trying to prevent finally fell apart.
The silence after the door slammed felt louder than anything that had come before it. It rang in your ears. It pressed in on your chest. It made it impossible to breathe.
For a second, neither of you moved. Then reality hit all at once. You stepped back—harder this time—your hands coming up between you and Lee Know like a barrier.
“No.” Your voice shook. You hated that it shook. “This is exactly what I didn’t want,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “This is—this is why I stayed away. Why I said no.”
He frowned slightly, still close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, still close enough that your thoughts blurred. “You think pushing me away now fixes that?” he asked.
“It’s the only thing that might,” you shot back.
“It won’t.”
“Maybe not,” you said, your throat tight. “But staying won’t either.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re just going to run again?”
“Yes,” you said, before you could stop yourself. Because at least this time, you weren’t pretending otherwise.
“That’s not a solution.”
“It is for me.”
“And what about everything you just said?” he pressed. “About how you feel?”
You swallowed hard. “I’ll deal with it.”
His expression hardened. “That’s not dealing with it. That’s burying it.”
“Good,” you snapped. “That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time, and it worked until you didn’t let it.”
Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, maybe, or frustration. “Don’t put that on me.”
“I’m not,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I’m putting it on myself. This is my fault. I should’ve never—” Your voice broke. You forced it to steady before forcing out, “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
A long silence followed. Then, quieter—
“So you regret it.”
You closed your eyes. Because that wasn’t the truth, but it was the only version of it you could live with. “Yes,” you whispered.
The word landed like a final blow. You saw it in the way his expression shut down—not dramatic, not explosive. Just… closed. Like a door locking.
“Fine,” he said.
Just that. Nothing more.
And somehow that hurt worse than if he’d argued.
The next morning, you called in sick. Your voice sounded convincing enough over the phone. You’d barely slept anyway, so it wasn’t entirely a lie.
“Take a couple of days,” they told you. “We’ll manage.”
You almost laughed at that. We’ll manage. Of course they would. The world didn’t stop because you made a mess of things.
Your flatmate didn’t speak to you. Not the first day. Not the second. Not even a glance when you passed each other in the flat, the air between you thick with everything unsaid.
You tried, once. “Can we talk?”
She didn’t even look up. “No.”
Just one word.
Final.
So you stopped trying because you weren’t sure what you could say without making it worse.
Word spread faster than you expected. Not the full story—just enough.
The other dancers noticed the shift immediately. The way your flatmate kept her distance from you, the way you weren’t there, the way something felt off. When you did go in briefly to drop off some paperwork, you felt it. The looks – quiet, judging. It wasn’t an outright confrontation, but it was enough to make a point. You heard whispers cut off when you walked past, felt eyes on your back. It settled heavy in your chest, because even without the full truth…
You knew how it looked.
And they weren’t wrong to think poorly of you.
The members didn’t know what to do. You heard that from a third party—someone in management, speaking in hushed tones you weren’t meant to overhear.
“They’re distracted,” one of them said. “Especially lately.”
“Because of the comeback?”
“…not just that.”
There was a pause.
“And Han?”
A longer pause this time.
“He’s staying out of it.”
That didn’t surprise you. Han hated conflict. And this? This was a mess he couldn’t fix with jokes or late-night snacks or quiet understanding. So he avoided it. Avoided you, avoided Lee Know, avoided your flatmate. Somehow, that made everything feel even more broken.
Your phone buzzed. Again.
You didn’t need to look to know who it was. You had memorised the pattern by now. First a message, then another, then a call. Then silence. Then it would start again hours later.
You hadn’t answered any of them. Not once. Not the texts nor the calls. You didn’t trust yourself to. Didn’t trust that if you heard his voice, you wouldn’t unravel everything you’d just barely managed to hold together.
The screen lit up again, and you stared at it. You let it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Until it stopped.
The silence afterwards felt louder than the sound of the phone call had.
By the third day, you had made your decision.
It wasn’t sudden, it wasn’t impulsive. It was quiet, slow, like something settling into place.
You couldn’t stay.
Not like this, not in the same space, not where every hallway felt like a memory waiting to happen.
You started looking into transfers- other groups, other teams. Somewhere far enough that it wouldn’t overlap. Far enough that you could disappear without making it obvious that you were running. Again.
You didn’t tell anyone about your plans. Not your flatmate, not Han, not even management themselves… not yet. Because once you said it out loud, it would become real and a small, fragile part of you still wasn’t ready for that.
You packed a small bag that night, nothing major. Just… enough. Enough to feel like you had control over something.
Your phone buzzed again, lighting up the dark room. You glanced at it this time, just for a second. His name stared back at you, and you hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Over the accept button. For a moment, just a moment, you almost answered. Almost gave in to the pull to hear his voice again, hear his reasoning.
But then you thought about your flatmate. About the look on her face, about everything you had already broken. You couldn’t do that to her. She was already hurt enough.
You turned your phone face down instead, letting it ring out until it finally stopped.
Management didn’t call you in right away when they got the reference requests. That would’ve been easier, cleaner.
Instead, it happened quietly—as everything else had. A message sent through internal channels, a request to “drop by when you’re available.” Neutral. Professional. Almost harmless.
It wasn’t.
You knew exactly what it was about the second you read it.
The office felt too bright when you stepped inside, too still.
You stood across from the desk, hands loosely clasped in front of you, posture perfect out of habit.
“Is it true?” the manager, your uncle, asked, skipping any pleasantries.
You didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yes.”
He paused, eyes roaming your face in search of answers that your words wouldn’t provide. “You’ve submitted a transfer request.”
“Yes.”
Another pause, longer this time.
“Without discussing it first.”
There it was.
You exhaled slowly. “I was planning to.”
“When?”
You didn’t answer because there was no answer that you could provide that would satisfy him.
Your uncle leaned back slightly, studying you. Not unkindly—but not gently either. “You’re a valuable part of this team,” he said. “We don’t just… move people around without conversation.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” There was a faint edge to the question now. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re trying to disappear.”
Your chest tightened, but you held their gaze anyway. “I think it would be better for everyone.”
“That’s not your call to make alone.”
“No,” you agreed quietly. “But it’s my responsibility to recognise when I’m… affecting things negatively.”
Your uncle was silent now – no denial, no real defence for what you were saying. He sighed, rubbing a hand across their temple. “This is about the team.”
You didn’t confirm it, but you didn’t deny it, either. You didn’t need to.
You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to find a solution to work for everyone. “You’re aware of the timing.”
“Yes.”
“The comeback is in a matter of days.”
“I know.”
“And you think leaving now is appropriate?”
“No,” you said honestly. “Which is why I won’t.” That caught his attention, so you continued, steady despite the way your heart pounded. “I’ll stay until the comeback stage is complete. Everything will run smoothly. There won’t be any disruptions from me.”
“And after?”
You swallowed.
“After… I go.”
The words felt heavier spoken out loud, final in a way they hadn’t been before.
Your uncle watched you carefully, weighing something. “You’ve already made up your mind.
It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “Yes.”
He let out a long sigh before asking, “Does anyone else know?”
Your throat tightened as you thought of the people you’d be leaving behind. “No.”
“And you intend to keep it that way?”
“If possible.”
Your uncle frowned slightly as he considered your response. “That’s not how we usually handle transitions.”
“I know,” you said. “But this isn’t… a usual situation.”
That was an understatement.
You forced yourself to hold his gaze. “Please,” you added, quieter now. “Let me finish this properly. Let me see it through, and then I’ll step away. No scenes. No disruptions. No… complications.” You didn’t say names but you didn’t have to. Understanding settled in the space between you.
He exhaled slowly. “This puts us in a difficult position.”
“I know.”
“You’re asking us to keep something from the team.”
“Yes.”
“And from the members.”
Your chest tightened at that. How would they react, knowing you’d just left them? Would they care? Or would they feel better knowing that you wouldn’t be there to cause any more trouble for them?
Would Lee Know miss you?
You shook the thought from your head. “Yes.”
There was a long silence, and your palms started to sweat. What would you do if he said-
“Fine.”
The word came with reluctance, but it came, and relief hit you harder than you expected.
“Thank you,” you said quietly.
“This is temporary,” he added firmly. “We’ll formalise things after the comeback.”
“Of course.”
“And if anything—anything—interferes with preparations—”
“It won’t,” you said immediately. You would make sure of that.
Even if it costs you everything else.
The days that followed felt… unreal. Like you were moving through something that no longer fully belonged to you.
You returned to work and kept your head down. You did everything exactly as expected—no mistakes, no hesitation, no sign that anything had changed.
Except everything had.
Your flatmate still didn’t speak to you. Not a word, not even when you stood inches apart during rehearsals. The absence of her voice hurt more than anything she could have said. The dancers still watched you differently. The air around you felt colder, quieter.
Like you were already gone.
You saw Lee Know again. Of course you did. There was no avoiding him completely—not now. Not with everything so close to the finish line. But something had shifted. He had stopped reaching out. There were no more messages, no more calls. No more attempts to corner you in quiet hallways or empty rooms.
At first, you told yourself it was what you wanted, that this made things easier. Cleaner. But every time your phone stayed silent?
It felt heavier.
Like something final had settled between you without either of you saying it out loud.
When you did cross paths, it was brief. Professional. Distant. Like strangers who knew too much about each other. And somehow that hurt more than the tension ever had.
The night before the comeback stage, you stood at the edge of the rehearsal space, watching everything come together.
Lights. Music. Movement. Precision.
It was perfect, or as close to perfect as it could be.
You felt it then—that quiet sense of completion. Like something was ending exactly the way it was supposed to. You didn’t belong here anymore, maybe you never really had. Maybe you had, inevitably, ridden your family’s name and prestige to your position here.
The day of the performance came faster than expected.
Backstage buzzed with energy—nervous, electric, alive. Everyone moved with purpose. There were the usual final checks, final adjustments, and final moments before everything went live.
You stayed in the background like always. Quiet, unnoticed. Exactly how you needed it to be, how it should have always been. Your flatmate stood with the other dancers, focused, determined. She didn’t look at you, and you didn’t expect her to. And Han—
You caught a glimpse of him across the room.
For a second, it looked like he might come over, like he might say something. But then someone called his name, and the moment passed. Just like everything else.
The performance was flawless. Every beat hit, every move sharp, every moment exactly as it should be. You watched from the wings, arms folded tightly across yourself, committing it all to memory. Because this would be the last time. The last time you stood here, the last time you watched them like this, the last time you let yourself feel like you were part of something bigger.
The final note rang out, and applause filled the space. The lights dimmed, and just like that—
It was over.
No one noticed when you slipped away. There was no one to stop you, no one to call your name. You moved quietly through the corridors, past the dressing rooms, past the noise and celebration, past everything that had once felt like home. Your bag was already packed, your decision already made. You paused only once, hand resting lightly against the wall of an empty hallway, letting yourself feel it—just for a second. You took a second to finally acknowledge everything you were leaving behind, everything you had lost. Everything you never allowed yourself to have. Then you exhaled, trying to release some of the crippling sadness and longing within you.
When it finally felt like you could breathe through all the emotions raging through you, you left quietly.
The noise backstage hadn’t even settled when the call came.
“Everyone to the conference room.”
It wasn’t unusual—post-performance briefings happened all the time. Still riding the high, still half in costume, the members filtered in one by one, energy lingering in their movements.
Han dropped into a chair with a sigh. “If this is about notes, I swear we nailed that.”
No one laughed. The atmosphere felt… off.
Lee Know stayed standing at the back, arms crossed loosely, expression unreadable—but his gaze flicked once toward the door. Like he was expecting someone. Like he had been all night.
The manager stepped in last, closing the door behind himself.
That was when the shift became undeniable.
“This won’t take long,” he said, voice measured.
Han straightened slightly, something in his expression sharpening. “What’s going on?”
There was a pause before their manager sighed and stated, “There’s been an internal change regarding staff assignments.”
Lee Know’s posture stilled. Just slightly.
But enough.
The manager continued. “One of your support staff has requested a transfer to a partnering company. The request has been approved.”
Silence.
It stretched for a second too long.
Han frowned. “Who?”
The manager hesitated, seemingly having to force the same out. “Y/N.”
Han’s reaction was immediate. “What? No—she didn’t say anything.”
“No,” the manager confirmed. “She intended to complete the comeback first.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Han said, shaking his head. “Why would she—”
He stopped. Because suddenly… It did make sense. Too much sense. His gaze flicked across the room, towards Lee Know, and Han froze. Because Lee Know hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t reacted the way anyone else had. He just stood there as the ground had shifted under him, and he hadn’t quite caught up yet.
“She’s leaving?” Han said again, quieter now.
“Yes.”
“When?”
Another pause. More hesitation.
“She’s already gone.”
That landed.
Hard.
The room shifted instantly—confusion turning into something heavier, something unsettled.
“Gone?” someone repeated. “Like—tonight?”
The manager nodded once. “She completed her responsibilities for the comeback. After that, she left the building.”
Lee Know’s jaw tightened. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.
Han stood up abruptly. “You’re telling me she just… walked out? Without saying anything to anyone?”
“That was her decision.”
“That’s not—” Han ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. “That’s not like her.”
No. It wasn’t. And that was the problem.
Because the only reason it would be like you was if something had gone very, very wrong.
Silence settled again. It was heavier this time. More aware. More pointed. The manager let it sit for a moment before his eyes shifted to where Lee Know was still standing in shock, staring at the floor.
“Some things,” he said carefully, “don’t resolve themselves if you leave them alone.”
Lee Know didn’t respond, didn’t even look up.
“She made her choice,” someone added quietly.
“Yes,” the manager agreed. “She did.” When Lee Know finally dragged his eyes away from the floor, the manager continued. “But not all choices are final. Not if someone is willing to challenge them.”
That was it.
That was the moment.
Because this time Lee Know moved.
His head lifted slightly, eyes sharpening—not confused anymore, not frozen. Focused. “When did she leave?” he asked.
“Not long ago.”
That was all he needed.
He turned immediately, heading for the door.
“Hyung—” Han started, stepping forward instinctively.
Lee Know didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down or look back when the younger called after him. The door opened and closed behind him.
And then he was gone.
Outside, the night air hit sharply and cold but he barely registered it. Because for the first time since hearing the news, everything was clear. You weren’t just avoiding him anymore. You weren’t just pulling away. You were leaving. For real this time. And he had let you. Every unanswered message, every moment he chose not to push, every second he told himself you needed space… It had led to this.
His pace quickened, eyes scanning instinctively, as he tried to think clearly. Where would you go? What would you do? You wouldn’t make a scene. You wouldn’t linger. You’d disappear quietly just like you always said you would.
His jaw clenched. “No,” he muttered under his breath. Not this time.
Somewhere ahead, just out of reach, you were walking away. You were under the impression that no one would notice, that no one would come after you. You thought that you could leave everything behind without consequence. For a moment, that might have been true. But not anymore. Not now that he knew. Not now that he understood exactly what you were trying to do.
He wasn’t going to let you disappear like this. Not without a fight.
Back at the venue, Han didn’t bother knocking. The door to the dancers’ dressing room swung open hard enough to echo, his breath uneven from running.
“Hey—have you seen—”
He stopped when he saw her.
Your flatmate stood near the mirror, stretching as if nothing in the world had shifted. Like everything was normal. Like the last few days hadn’t fractured something important.
She didn’t even turn around right away. “You’re late,” she said flatly. “The celebrations finished ages ago.”
“This isn’t about celebrating,” he said quickly.
That got her attention. She glanced at him through the mirror, expression guarded. “Then what?”
Han stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “She’s gone.”
Bora regarded him with the same guarded expression, but Han could see something flicker in her eyes.
“So?”
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Han blinked. “What do you mean so?”
She shrugged, turning back to her stretch like it didn’t matter. “I mean… she made her choice, didn’t she?”
“That’s it?” he asked, disbelief creeping into his voice. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“What do you want me to say?” she shot back, finally facing him fully now. “That I’m devastated? That I’m heartbroken? Because I’m not.”
Han stared at her. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t,” he insisted, stepping closer. “You’re just angry.”
“Yeah,” she snapped. “I am angry. I think I have every right to be.”
“You do,” he said immediately. “No one’s saying you don’t.”
“Good,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Then leave it alone.”
“I can’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
“Because she didn’t just leave the group,” he said, voice tightening slightly. “She left you, too.”
That same flicker of emotion passed through her eyes before she locked it away again.
“She made that pretty clear already,” she said, looking away.
“No,” Han shook his head. “She didn’t. She thought she was doing the right thing.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to make her the victim in this.”
“I’m not,” he said firmly. “I’m just saying it’s not as simple as you’re making it.”
“It is that simple,” she insisted. “She lied to me. She went behind my back. She—” Her voice wavered slightly before she forced it steady again. “She chose him over me.”
Han exhaled slowly. “That’s not what happened.”
“It is from where I’m standing.”
“You’re standing in the middle of it,” he countered. “Of course it looks like that.”
“Then enlighten me,” she shot back. “What am I missing?”
He hesitated, because this wasn’t his place. None of this was his place, but you weren’t here, and someone had to say it.
“She didn’t choose him over you,” Han said carefully. “She tried to choose you from the beginning.”
Her expression faltered—just slightly. “What?”
“She turned down the audition for you,” he continued. “Pushed you forward instead. Stayed out of it even when she didn’t have to.”
“That doesn’t excuse—”
“I know,” he cut in gently. “I know it doesn’t fix what happened. But it matters.” Bora looked away again, jaw tightening. “She didn’t want to hurt you,” he added.
“Well, she did.”
“I know.”
Silence settled between them, and Han let it sit for a moment whilst Bora gathered her thoughts. Then—
“She’s transferring,” he said.
That got her attention again.
“What?”
“To another company,” Han clarified. “She’s not just… taking a break. She’s leaving. For good.”
The words landed differently this time. He could see it- the cracks in her guarded expression.
“She… what?” she asked, slower now.
“She waited until the comeback was done,” he said. “Did everything properly. And then she left. Without telling anyone.”
Her arms slowly dropped from where they’d been crossed. “That’s—” She stopped, frowning. “That’s stupid.”
Han huffed out a quiet, humourless laugh. “Yeah. It is.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she thinks it’s the only way to fix things,” he said. “Or at least stop making them worse.”
Her expression twisted slightly. “That’s not fixing anything,” she muttered.
“I know.”
A silence fell between them again, and Han watched her carefully. Watched the way her anger didn’t disappear—but shifted. It softened at the edges. Became complicated.
“You really don’t care?” he asked quietly.
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned back to the mirror and stared at her reflection.
“…she didn’t even say goodbye,” she said, her voice quieter now. Not sharp. Not angry. Just… hurt.
Han’s chest tightened.
“No,” he admitted. “She didn’t.”
“That’s worse,” she added.
“I know.”
She let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “She always does this,” she muttered. “Acts like she can just carry everything on her own. Like she doesn’t need anyone.”
“She thought she was protecting you.”
“Well, she wasn’t,” she snapped, though there was less bite to it now. “She just made it worse.”
Han nodded. “Yeah. She did.”
“Where is she?”
There it was.
Han exhaled slowly. “I don’t know exactly,” he admitted. “But she left not long ago. She won’t go far—not yet.”
Her eyes flicked to his. “And you’re telling me this because…?”
“Because someone already went after her,” he said.
Understanding clicked.
“Lee Know.”
Han nodded.
She scoffed lightly, but it lacked conviction. “Of course he did.”
“Yeah.”
Han hesitated before he stepped closer, voice softer now.
“But this isn’t just about him.”
She didn’t respond.
“Whatever you’re feeling—anger, hurt, all of it—you’re allowed to feel it,” he continued. “But if you let her leave like this… without saying anything…”
He let the sentence trail off, not needing to finish it.
Her expression shifted again, more uncertain now. More conflicted.
“You don’t have to forgive her,” Han added. “Not right now. Maybe not for a while.” She swallowed. “But you should at least talk to her,” he finished. “Before she’s gone for real.”
The room went quiet. Completely still. Your flatmate looked at the door, then back at the mirror, then down at her hands. For the first time since he walked in, she didn’t look angry. She looked… torn.
“…I hate her right now,” she said quietly.
Han gave a small nod. “I figured.”
“…but I don’t think I want her to disappear either.”
“That’s enough,” he said gently. “That’s all you need right now.”
She exhaled slowly, unsteadily, then grabbed her jacket. Han stepped aside as she moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked, though he already knew.
She hesitated briefly at the threshold.
“…to stop her from being an idiot,” she muttered.
Han let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “Good.”
The night air felt colder the further you got from the building. Or maybe it was just you. Your steps were quick, uneven—like if you slowed down even a little, everything would catch up to you at once. You didn’t look back, didn’t stop, didn’t think.
Because thinking would mean feeling, and feeling.. Feeling would break you.
“Stop.”
Your breath hitched, and you froze.
For a second, you considered pretending you hadn’t heard. If you just kept walking… But you knew that voice. Knew it too well.
Slowly, reluctantly, you turned. And there he was. Lee Know stood a few steps behind you, chest rising slightly from having rushed, eyes locked onto yours with a focus that made your stomach drop.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.
“Neither should you.”
You shook your head immediately, taking a step back. “No. Don’t—don’t do this.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“You have to,” you insisted. “You shouldn’t have even come after me.”
“And let you disappear?” he shot back. “No.”
“I’m not disappearing,” you argued weakly.
He let out a short, disbelieving breath. “You requested a transfer. You left without telling anyone. You’re ignoring my calls.” Each point landed heavier than the last. “That’s not disappearing?” he pressed.
You swallowed. “It’s what’s best.”
“For who?”
“For everyone.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is,” you snapped. “You just don’t like it.”
He stepped closer, and you stepped back.
Again.
And again—
Until there was nowhere left to go but standing your ground.
“You don’t get to decide that on your own,” he said.
“Yes, I do,” you fired back. “This is my job. My life.”
“And what about me?”
The question hit harder than it should have.
“You’ll be fine,” you said quickly. “You are fine. This—” you gestured between you, your voice tightening “—this was a mistake. One we should’ve never let happen.”
His expression darkened. “Stop saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is!” you insisted, your voice cracking now. “Look at what it’s done. My best friend hates me. The team’s a mess. Everything is worse because I didn’t stay in my place.”
“Your place?” he repeated, disbelief creeping in. “Is that how you see it?”
“That’s how it is.”
“No,” he said firmly. “That’s how you’ve convinced yourself it is, so you don’t have to deal with this.”
“And what is this?” you demanded.
“This,” he said, stepping closer again, not stopping this time. “Us.”
Your breath caught. “There is no ‘us,’” you said quickly.
“There is,” he replied, unwavering. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“I did admit it,” you shot back. “And look what happened.”
“That doesn’t mean it was wrong.”
“It does when it hurts people!”
The silence that fell between you was charged.
“You’re not wrong for how you feel,” he said, quieter now.
“I am if I act on it.”
“You already did.”
Your chest tightened painfully. “Exactly,” you whispered. “And I won’t make that mistake again.”
“You think leaving fixes that?” he asked.
“It stops it from getting worse.”
“It doesn’t stop anything,” he said. “It just means you’re running away from it.”
“Yes,” you said, voice breaking. “Because staying means hurting her more, and I won’t do that.”
“And what about you?”
“I don’t matter in this.”
“You do to me.”
“Stop,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “Don’t say things like that. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes it harder,” you admitted, your voice barely holding together, eyes filling. “It makes me want things I can’t have.”
“Why can’t you have them?”
“Because they’re not just mine to take!” you snapped. “Because she’s part of this. Because I chose her before any of this even started, and I’m not going to undo that just because I—”
You stopped.
But it was too late.
“Because you what?” he pushed.
You closed your eyes briefly. Then, quietly—
“Because I love her too.”
The words shifted everything. They weren’t romantic, weren’t the same as the feelings you were trying so desperately to push away.
But they were just as strong.
Just as binding.
“She’s my best friend,” you continued, your voice trembling. “She trusted me. And I broke that. I already did enough damage—I’m not going to stay and make it worse just because I—”
“Because you like me,” he finished.
You didn’t deny it, but you didn’t confirm it either.
But your silence said enough.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “And you think leaving is the only way to fix that.”
“Yes.”
“It’s not.”
“It is for me.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Maybe,” you said, tears finally slipping free despite your effort to hold them back. “But it’s the only thing I can do that doesn’t make me hate myself more than I already do.”
The confession made him pause. Just for a second. But it wasn’t enough, because when he stepped forward again, he wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t uncertain.
It was decided.
“I’m not letting you go like this,” he said.
“You don’t have a choice.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t,” you insisted, backing up again, your voice shaking. “This isn’t something you can fix.”
“I’m not trying to fix it.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m choosing not to walk away from it.”
“Then you’re choosing wrong,” you said, almost pleading now. “Please—just let me go. Let this end here before it gets worse.”
“It already got worse,” he replied. “And you leaving isn’t going to undo that.”
“It might stop more damage.”
“Or it might just leave everything broken.”
You shook your head. “I can live with that.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
He studied you for a long moment, like he was trying to see past everything you were saying. Everything you were hiding. Everything you were trying to convince both him and yourself was true.
“No,” he said finally. The certainty in his voice made your chest tighten. “You can’t.”
You laughed weakly through your tears. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I don’t,” he agreed. “But I can decide not to let you do this alone.”
“I have to do this alone.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the one who caused it!”
“And you think punishing yourself fixes it?”
“I’m not punishing myself,” you said, even though it didn’t sound convincing.
He didn’t call you out on it. He just stepped closer again, close enough that you couldn’t ignore him. Close enough that you had to look at him.
“Running away doesn’t make you selfless,” he said quietly. “It just means you’re scared.”
“I am scared,” you admitted. “Of hurting her again. Of hurting you. Of ruining everything even more than I already have.”
“Then stay,” he said. “And face it.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No,” you whispered. “I can’t… if you’re here.”
“Then don’t stay for me,” he said. Your heart twisted at the words. “Stay for her.”
That hit harder than anything else he’d said because that? That was the one thing you couldn’t argue against. And he knew it.
“Stay for both of us.”
The words didn’t come from him. They came from behind you.
Your breath caught so sharply it hurt. You spun in the direction of her voice, and there she was.
Bora.
Hair slightly dishevelled from running, chest rising unevenly, eyes locked on you like she’d been holding everything in for too long and finally couldn’t anymore.
For a second, no one moved. No one spoke. Even the night around you felt like it had gone still. Then her gaze flicked—not away from you—but past you. To him. Lee Know stood a few steps behind, frozen in place, like he hadn’t expected her either.
“Of course,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “Of course, you found her first.”
“Wait,” you said quickly, stepping forward. “This isn’t—this isn’t what you think.”
She laughed once. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t kind. It was tired. “Isn’t it?”
The question hung between you. You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Anything you said would sound wrong, would be too late, too hollow.
She looked at you properly now, really looked, and for the first time since everything broke, there wasn’t just anger there. There was hurt. Deep, exhausted hurt.
“You left,” she said.
“I know.”
“No,” she shook her head. “You don’t get to say it like that. You don’t get to say it like it’s just a fact.”
Your throat tightened. “I didn’t know how else to fix it.”
“You didn’t fix anything,” she replied, voice cracking slightly now. “You just disappeared.”
Silence.
Behind you, Lee Know didn’t interrupt. Didn’t step in. He just stayed – present, waiting. She looked at him again briefly, then back at you.
“And you,” she said, quieter now, “I told you everything. Everything I felt. Everything I thought was happening.”
“I know,” you whispered.
“And you let me believe it.”
Your chest tightened painfully. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You did,” she cut in softly. Not angry now. Just… honest. “Even if you didn’t plan it, you did.”
You swallowed hard around the lump in your throat. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know,” she said.
You blinked at her, surprised, and she exhaled shakily, running a hand over her face like she was trying to hold herself together.
“I know that’s the worst part,” she admitted. “You didn’t mean it. That’s what makes it harder.”
Your eyes stung. “I should’ve told you sooner,” you said. “I should’ve told you I was—” You stopped because you couldn’t say it cleanly. Because even now, it felt too complicated.
She nodded slightly. “You should’ve,” she agreed.
Silence fell again, longer this time. You were thinking of what to say, how to save this, when Bora spoke again.
“But I get it.”
Your head snapped up. “What?”
She looked away for a moment, swallowing hard. “I don’t like it,” she said. “I don’t forgive it yet. I’m still angry. I probably will be for a while.” Your chest tightened again. “But I get it,” she repeated, quieter now. “Because I saw the way you looked at him before I even realised what I was looking at.” That made your breath hitch. “And I saw the way he looked at you,” she added, glancing briefly at him again.
Lee Know didn’t move, didn’t interrupt. Just listened.
“I didn’t want to see it,” she admitted. “Because I wanted it to be simple. I wanted to be right.” Her voice wavered slightly. “But I wasn’t.”
You felt something break inside of you because she wasn’t absolving you. She wasn’t pretending it didn’t hurt. She was just… being honest. Somehow, it made it both better and worse.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
She nodded once. “I know.”
She stepped forward—not toward him, not away from him—but toward you. You stiffened instinctively, not knowing what to expect. But she didn’t hit you, didn’t shove you. She didn’t shout. She just stopped close enough that you could see her properly. Close enough that you couldn’t avoid this anymore.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said quietly.
Your breath stuttered. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
A shaky laugh escaped her. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Then maybe don’t run away again.”
Her words hit home and landed in your chest. Fresh tears slipped down your face before you could stop them.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” you admitted.
“I know,” she said again. “But next time… talk to me. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s stupid. Just—don’t decide for both of us.”
You nodded quickly, unable to speak.
Behind her, Lee Know finally stepped forward – careful, measured. Not interrupting. Just… present. “I didn’t mean to be the reason this happened,” he said quietly.
She looked at him, holding eye contact as she thought of how to reply. “You weren’t the reason,” she said after a moment. “Not entirely.” She paused as she considered her next words before adding, reluctantly, “But you weren’t not the reason either.”
He nodded once, accepting her words. He didn’t try to defend himself, just showed that he understood her meaning. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.
She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. “I know,” she said again. “That’s also the worst part.”
The silence that followed was different to the others. New. It wasn’t heavy anymore; it was raw. The kind of silence that follows an emotional outpour.
Your flatmate looked between you both, exhaling slowly. “I’m still mad,” she said bluntly.
You gave a tearful nod. “Fair.”
“But I’m not done with you,” she added, pointing at you. “So don’t think you get to disappear again.”
A weak laugh slipped out of you. “I won’t.”
“And you,” she said, glancing at Lee Know again. “Don’t make this weird.”
He blinked once, then, very slightly—
“I won’t try.”
That earned the faintest, almost-smile from her. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but something softer than before.
She looked back at you. “You’re an idiot,” she said.
“I know.”
“And you’re still my best friend,” she added, voice quieter now.
You stepped forward and hugged her before you could think better of it. She hesitated for half a second before hugging you back. It was tighter than you expected, probably angrier than necessary.
But real.
Behind you, you felt Lee Know exhale—slow, almost relieved.
The silence after the hug didn’t feel like an ending anymore. It felt like something was finally settling. Not solved. Not perfect. But no longer breaking.
Your flatmate pulled back first, wiping at her face quickly like she was annoyed at herself for crying. “I need time,” she said bluntly.
You nodded immediately. “You can have all the time you need.”
She huffed a quiet laugh. “Don’t sound so dramatic.”
“I’m not trying to be dramatic,” you said weakly.
“That’s exactly what someone being dramatic would say,” she retorted, smiling softly at you. She stepped back, glancing between you and him once more, then pointed at you again. “I’m still mad.”
“I know.”
“And I still think you’re an idiot.”
“I also know that.”
“And if you disappear again, I’ll actually kill you.”
That surprised a laugh out of you—small, broken, but real. “Noted.”
She exhaled, then hesitated. “Just… don’t take too long figuring your life out, okay?”
Your throat tightened. “I’ll try.”
She gave one last look at both of you before turning and walking away, slowly.
When she was out of sight, the space between you and Lee Know suddenly felt… louder. It wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. Just full. Everything you hadn’t said in weeks pressed up against the surface at once.
You didn’t look at him immediately, and he didn’t speak for a while, until finally-
“You really were going to leave,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t an accusation.
Just a fact.
You swallowed around the guilt lodged in your windpipe before you turned to face him, shocked by the lack of space between you.
“…yes.”
He paused, eyes roaming your face, memorising every detail. “And not tell me.”
Your chest tightened.
“I didn’t think I was allowed to stay and want both things,” you admitted softly. “You and her. My job. My sanity. I thought if I picked anything else, I’d just make everything worse.”
“You still do that,” he said.
You let out a weak breath. “I know.”
There was a pause before he reached for your hand, squeezing slightly.
“You said it was a mistake,” he said.
Your stomach dropped slightly because you knew what he meant. The kiss. The moment you tried to bury.
You nodded slowly. “I said a lot of things I didn’t fully mean,” you admitted.
His gaze sharpened slightly. “Which ones did you mean?”
The question landed differently. He wasn’t pushing anymore, because he didn’t have to. He was asking. Waiting. You looked at him properly, still scared to share the depth of your feelings. But the longer you looked at him, the more something inside you gave me. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, just… quiet. Like a door you’d been holding shut, finally unlocking on its own.
“I meant that I was scared,” you said. He didn’t move as you thought about what to say. “I meant that I thought I’d ruin everything if I let myself feel anything for you,” you continued, voice shaking slightly. “And I meant that I didn’t know how to exist in a world where I wanted something I wasn’t supposed to have.”
His expression softened just a fraction, and you let out a shaky breath.
“But I didn’t mean…” You paused, swallowing hard, “I didn’t mean that it didn’t matter.”
That got his full attention.
Your hands curled slightly at your sides. “I didn’t mean that you didn’t matter.” You pause before adding, softly, “You matter. You matter too much. That’s the problem.”
His breath shifted slightly, like he’d been holding it in without realising. “You ran because of that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And now?”
Your chest rose unevenly. Now? Now there was no hiding behind excuses, no distance left to build, no flatmate to blame, no work to bury yourself in.
Just this.
Just him and the truth you’d been circling for weeks.
Now, you didn’t move away. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it,” you said quietly. His eyes stayed on yours, waiting for you to finally admit it. “I really, really like you, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”
The words didn’t feel like a confession. They felt like a release. Something you’d been holding so tightly it hurt. His expression didn’t change immediately. It was like he was letting it land fully. Letting it become real.
“Do you think I don’t feel it, too?” he asked softly.
Your breath caught. “What?”
A faint, almost helpless exhale left him. “You think I’ve been following you around like this because it’s just convenient?”
Your heart stuttered. “I thought—”
“That I was just confused?” he interrupted gently.
You didn’t answer… Because you had thought that.
He stepped closer, closing the distance you’d been terrified of. “I told you before,” he said quietly. “I don’t walk away from things I want.”
Your pulse hammered.
“I tried to,” you whispered.
He smiled, exasperated. “Oh, I know.”
“I tried really hard.”
“Now you’re just stating the obvious,” he teased.
Silence again. But this one wasn’t painful; it was fragile, like something about to finally settle into place.
“You made it impossible,” you admitted softly.
That earned the faintest shift in his expression. Almost a smile.
“Good,” he said.
Your breath broke into something that wasn’t quite a laugh.
“You’re still leaving,” he said.
Your chest tightened again. Because that was still real. Still there.
“I was,” you corrected quietly. You paused before adding, “I don’t know if I am anymore.”
His gaze softened. “You don’t have to run,” he said.
“I don’t know how to stay without hurting people.”
“You already did the hardest part,” he said. “You told the truth.”
Something inside you ached at his words, because it was true… And terrifying.
“And now?” you whispered.
He looked at you for a long moment before lifting a hand—slowly, giving you every chance to step away. You didn’t, and his fingers brushed lightly against your wrist. It was grounding. Real.
“Now,” he said quietly, “you stop deciding alone.”
Your breath shook. “I’m bad at that,” you admitted.
“I noticed.”
That earned a small, genuine laugh from you this time. It cracked something open fully, and before you could think too much about it, you stepped forward, closing the final distance yourself, and kissed him.
This time, there was no shock, no hesitation. Just him meeting you immediately like he’d been waiting for it. Like it had always been inevitable. His hand slid gently to your waist, steadying you like you might still disappear if he didn’t hold you there. For once, you didn’t pull away. Not from fear, not from guilt. Not from anything.
When you finally broke apart, it was only because you needed air—not because you wanted distance. Your forehead rested lightly against his, breathing uneven.
“I’m still figuring this out,” you whispered.
“I know,” he said softly.
“And I’m probably still going to overthink everything.”
“I know.”
“And I might panic again.”
A faint hum of amusement in his voice. “I know.”
You let out a breath that almost sounded like relief.
“…but I’m not leaving,” you said.
His hand tightened slightly at your waist. “Good,” he said again.
And for the first time, staying didn’t feel like a mistake—it felt like the beginning of something worth fighting for.
a/n: WHAT DO WE THINK? WAS PART TWO OKAY GUYS? DID IT LIVE UP TO EXPECTATIONS? DID YOU HAVE ANY EXPECTATIONS?
