dawnover-dusk

[dawnover-dusk]

hii i just read ur med wonwoo au and i love it sm 😭😭 im a first yr med student and wonwoo is my bias and i just aaaaaa so cuteee

i have exams at the end of the month and this kinda motivated me a little more hehe esp since i’ve been feeling kinda hopeless even though i’ve really only just started lol thank u <3 hope you’re doing good !!

wow!! i’m so glad to meet another fellow carat/med student. thank you so much for reading and i’m so happy to hear that it’s helped you ❤️ we all have to find things that we can turn to for comfort and healing, and seventeen has been a great source of calm for me. med school is tough and different and you’ve gotten this far, so you for sure will be able to achieve whatever you want to!!!

good luck on your exams and feel free to chat if you ever need advice from an old grouchy 4th year!

[dawnover-dusk]

it’s only like, two years later lol. inspired by my intern boot camp! lemme know if there’s too much medical jargon so i know i can tone it down in the future lol  EM resident wonwoo x IM intern reader, bullet point, not proofread more seventeen medical au here!

- wonwoo is a 2nd year EM resident - but as a fresh-faced baby intern, you mistake him for an attending - it’s not your fault really -- his aura and quiet stoicism despite the packed ED suggested years of experience - so when you are on nights and a patient that you are admitting starts crashing, you don’t even question it when he comes running over and ordering you to get fluids - after the patient’s vitals stabilize, your adrenaline is still pumping as you shakily say “thank you dr. jeon” - he contemplates you over his wire-framed glasses and nods, “oh it’s just wonwoo”

- and as you gush over wonwoo to your (barely awake) senior resident jeonghan, he begins to grin - you know you’ve only been working at the hospital for a month, but it’s long enough to know that jeonghan is scheming - so when jeonghan calls you over the next night to get sign-out for a new admission, you’re a lil sus - but you don’t have time to react when jeonghan runs out of the room cackling and you hear wonwoo’s voice over the speaker say “hey yn” - and you curse at how your heart jumps over his deep voice and you don’t know if you should thank jeonghan or kill him - when you go to see that patient, wonwoo can’t help but look over at you from time to time from where he is seated at his workstation - not that he purposely chose that seat because he could see that patient or anything because he’s definitely not interested ... and not that jeonghan texted him the entire night about you LOL - and he can see your eyes crinkle over your mask as you talk softly to the elderly woman - and how you pat her hand and she grasps yours for reassurance - and how you run over to the supply storage to grab a hot pack for her before you go back upstairs - just like how you were in awe of how calm he was during an emergency, he’s awed by how considerate you are - so he doesn’t even really mind when you walk into the medicine lounge for more keurig coffee and jeonghan ditches him in the most conspicuous way possible - “oh hi wonwoo!” you greet him brightly, setting down the steaming paper cup on the table as you plop down on the couch across from him - and now he is graced with your full smile, the corners of your eyes crinkling as he tentatively smiles back and gives a small wave - “thanks again for helping me out last night! you looked super cool and i hope that i can be like you,” you start, before realizing that that you just blurted that out without thinking - you could feel your face start to flush and if you weren’t avoiding eye contact, you would’ve seen that wonwoo’s hand had reflexively come up to cover his grin - “don’t worry about it, i know med school and the real world are totally different but you’ll get the hang of it. i’ve seen you with patients though and they can’t teach that amount of empathy, so you’re already miles ahead” - your eyes widen and even though you’ve been trying so hard to fake like everything’s been okay - intern year sucks - “thank you, wonwoo,” you whisper, but words cannot convey how much his recognition means to you - throughout the rest of the rotation, you meet up with wonwoo to have bad coffee and over time, you don’t even use jeonghan as an excuse anymore - whenever wonwoo is off, he texts to check in on you - wonwoo knows how scary it is to be alone as an intern on nights, and as much as he loves jeonghan, he knows that he’s less than…hands on - but you always try to change the subject from work because you believe that when you’re off from the hospital, you should be off - so you talk about video games and literature and spoken word poetry - and to his surprise, wonwoo ends up telling you that he sometimes writes lyrics for this music group that he was part of back in med school (he has never told anyone else this!!!!) - so you ask him to go to a show with you the next time you’re free and he’s like “sure” but internally he’s like “IS THIS…A DATE???”

- “wonwoo’s finally going to have a s/o!” jeonghan all but shouts to his co-residents jihoon and joshua in the morning - it’s been a month on nights and you’re back on the day team - you had gone to intern morning report while the rest of your team...gossips? - “it’s too early for this,” jihoon grumbles while joshua slides his chair closer to jeonghan - “i am the best senior that an intern can have and no one can tell me otherwise,” he continued while joshua just chuckled - “last i heard, you let the intern handle septic shock and you didn’t even leave the call room,” jihoon rebutted. - “uhh..hi?” you question as you enter the room and see joshua zoom back over to his desk and jihoon whip around and pretend to finish his email - jeonghan clears his throat to fill the silence but as he is the king of luck, your pager goes off and you exit that room as quickly as you had entered, shouting something about a code in the ED - jihoon: “so…are you gonna help or” - jeonghan: “nah it’s cool” - in the ED, you run over to the crowd that had formed around this patient and you see wonwoo at the head of the bed who nods at you - “yn, this patient came in with nausea and vomiting but her blood pressure has dropped and her mental status has changed. we think she’s having a heart attack” - you grab the EKG and your eyes widen as you tell the nurse to ready a defibrillator - “there’s nothing that we don’t already know on the EKG, we have to get her to cardiology,” wonwoo argues but you point out this one beat that is abnormal - “she’s going to get worse, wonwoo” you reply and before wonwoo can say anything, the patient’s heart rate skyrockets - “ready for defib,” wonwoo says. “charge to 200, and clear!” - the patient’s rhythm returns to normal and after her vitals are stabilized and she’s transported to cardiology, you see wonwoo slip out - “hey,” you call, and you see him stop in a less busy hallway, his eyes trained on the floor and his face pale. “let’s go somewhere else,” you grab the crook of his arm and lead him to the benches in front of the vending machines - you grab a cup of warm tea and sit down next to the silent man, noticing that his hands are shaking as he runs one through black disheveled hair - “…i’m sorry,” he starts as you gently bump your knee against his - “hey, she’s alive, she’s going to be fine,” you say, folding his shaking hands around the cup and wrapping your hands around his - even though this was foreign to wonwoo, it was…comforting. your thumb brushing across his knuckles, your breath falling in sync with his… - you were comforting - “you know what they always tell us in school, that medicine is a team sport? i’ll always have your back,” you laugh, and you see the corners of his mouth start to rise - “are we still on for our date?” he asks, although so lowly that you almost miss what he’s saying before a wide grin breaks out onto your face - “honestly it’s the highlight of my day off,” you reply

- skip forward in time and you’re almost at the end of your intern year - you pretty much live at wonwoo’s now, using the excuse that he lives closer to the hospital despite jeonghan saying you’re in LOVE - and now instead of jeonghan trying to play wingman, he’s complaining about how much wonwoo won’t shut up about you - when your schedules don’t match up, you prep food for him when he’s working and vice versa - on days off you switch off having lazy days in with going to the movies or hanging out with friends - you meet his med school music group and you’re surprised to see jihoon there (he glares at you whenever you try to bring it up during work though) - tells you the CHEESIEST jokes and wordplay and every chuckle he can get out of you is a victory that he rides the entire week - you’re each other’s go-to person for the most random thoughts, from “why does rheumatology take weeks when all they give are steroids” to “what are the ethical obligations for us as physicians to like…zombies tho…” - his affection for you in the hospital is in the form of coffee and trying not to admit complex patients to whatever medicine team you’re on (jeonghan will point out this favoritism CONSTANTLY) - appreciates that you initiate the skinship at home because sometimes he gets too nervous - one day you’re leaning on him as he plays video games, your laptop open on your lap and you should be doing work but you can’t help but absentmindedly stare as he plays - and you take in his furrowed brow and his glasses and the way he adjusts his headset - it hits you -- you love this man - and you’re so zoned out that you don’t notice that he’s paused his game and is looking at you quizzically - all you can do is pull him down and kiss him and only the need for air causes you to pull back - “so…should i play games more often?” he jokes and you sigh, the arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him as he giggles - “i love you,” you whisper into his neck as one of his hands smooth over your hair - “i would hope so, it would be awkward since you’ve practically moved in and all” - “wonwoo!” - and all you can see is his nose wrinkling in laughter before he kisses you again

[dawnover-dusk]

bright after rain

bright after rain

summary: inspired by our own hopeless romantic leader’s poetic post on the fancafe 

very slight medical au.

the mug of tea, hot with its lazy tendrils of steam drifting in the air, left an imprint on your windowsill, already peeling with age and splatters of paint that you could never quite scrub off. it was late afternoon yet your bedroom was dark, sunlight grayed by the storm clouds doing little to brighten up these four walls, nor your mood. a hand reached out to trace the trail of the raindrops beaded on the windows, the thick glass cold against your fingertips, while the other supported your heavy head, elbow rested on your drawn-up knees hidden underneath the fraying blanket that you’ve kept since you first moved out for college all those years ago.

it was too early to be in bed, but it was also too late for lunch and like the hours, your hunger had passed. you knew that nothing was guaranteed with seungcheol, but he was an unsaid promise and you had forgotten the meaning of uncertainty. when you had first started dating, you were surprised at how easy it was for him to be honest, for him to let you read his thoughts like pages as your fingers smoothed through raven hair, or for him to sing his love like a prayer before bed. no wonder the department named him as the next chief resident, his peers in their white coats clapping with decorum but everyone had expected it, there was no one else who would’ve even come close. you had hovered with a small bouquet of yellow flowers near the exit of the auditorium as he wrapped you in a hug, all gummy grins and rosy cheeks, slightly embarrassed yet beaming bright.

you felt like a child throwing a fit, wanting his afternoons when you had his mornings and his nights. your eyes outlined the tall apartment buildings outside your windows, the tops blunted and obscured by the mist. the sounds of tires racing through water and streams tapping on concrete, the melody of rainfall harmonizing with the city that you had come to love, soothed you enough to make you realize that this wasn’t a big deal, that you would see him soon anyway, that you should go back to studying instead of idling over one missed lunch. your gaze wandered to the bright hospital a couple of blocks away, and you instead hoped that seungcheol brought an umbrella, or wore an extra layer, or had eaten his lunch instead of skipping it like you, worry replacing your listlessness.

you heard the door unlock and your heart leaped into your throat, the low shout of “i’m home!” propelling you out of bed to take tentative, barefoot steps into the kitchen. it’s funny how, even after years of living together, and growing together, you still felt like a lovestruck teenager. the tiles felt cold against your feet as your eyes lit up when you saw him placing take out containers on the counter, his dress shirt wet and slightly transparent against his back, the strands of his black hair dripping onto the floor. you plodded towards him and wrapped tired arms around his waist, your cheek pressing into the curve of his spine, the cold and wetness seeping into the front of your pajamas but with the contrasting warmth of joy bubbling in your chest.

“sorry i’m late,” he said, stepping away just enough to turn around in your arms and to wrap his own around your frame. he pressed soft lips against your forehead, heart beating a pacifying lullaby in your ear. “nice pj’s,” he remarked, and you laughed as he gave you a playful tap against your hip. “i can’t stay for long, but i didn’t want my baby to starve.”

you peered up at him, the light in his brown eyes, the hollows of his cheeks, the slope of his lips, the laughter lines etched deep in the corners of eyes, a map that led you to the safest home that you’ve ever come to know.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, and you knew then that you couldn’t answer, you had no words to, ‘i love you’ not capturing the intensity or depth of emotion that occupied your entire being. maybe one day, you’ll be able to describe it. today, you just pulled him into the bathroom, towel-drying his hair before telling him to change.

before he left, he pulled you close, fingers tracing patterns across the backs of your hands, lips like rays of sun breaking through receding storm clouds to warm the drenched streets. nothing was guaranteed, but you knew that it was a technicality, that he always somehow honored the vows that he whispered against your skin.

you knew that seungcheol would always be the brightness after rain.

[dawnover-dusk]

eclipsing the sun

eclipsing the sun

summary: he shone too bright and you didn’t know if you wanted to be the sun too, or to be the eclipse

suggestive, medical student Seungkwan x reader

Seungkwan, you think, is a gunner.

“I am not a gunner,” he says hotly, his thumb flicking up on the screen of his phone with vengeance. “He wrote on my evaluation, ‘It’s great that you’re so enthusiastic, but you should let other students shine.’ He’s making me sound like a gunner. I am not a gunner.”

Jieqiong nodded her head in understanding as you rolled your eyes, glad that Seungkwan was sitting next to you so that he wouldn’t see your less than sympathetic expression. You half-heartedly scrolled through Instagram on your own phone, your gaze wandering from the dogs and cats on your screen to the lanky body of the fourth-year medical student, Minghao, splayed across the line of chairs with his forearm over his eyes.

You wish that you had the freedom that Minghao had. You eyed the suspicious recliners pushed against the windows, yellowed pillows piled behind them with the beige curtains illuminated with the hidden afternoon sun. It was more tempting, at least, than the plastic chair that you were currently sitting in, your forearms sticky against the wooden table in the center of the conference room. The physician had emailed your small group to tell you that she would be late, but if you knew that “running a little bit late” meant half an hour late, you would have followed Minghao’s lead and taken a quick power-nap as well.

“It’s not my fault that no one else does shit,” you heard the ash-blonde boy mutter next to you.

So far, you’ve spent a week with Seungkwan on the inpatient unit. Your initial fears of sick children and frenzied parents during your pediatric rotation were immediately dwarfed by – well, Seungkwan. He spoke in a way that you envied, yet resented, voice crisp and loud with his laughter echoing down the pastel halls. He stood straight and proud, confident in his royal blue button-down and black slacks, lanyard decorated with funky enamel pins that children pointed to and giggled at. He knew the stories of all of the patients on the floor, and never hesitated to talk to the nurses or social workers who walked into the workroom bearing questions about the boy in room 2 or the teenager with salmonella.

And that was what you hated the most about Seungkwan.

He answered all questions, even the ones about your patients.

Even when the senior resident called to you across the room, “The urine culture came back with 3,000 E. coli – what do you think?”

“That’s not a lot,” you heard him say. Your lips were parted in preparation to respond, but pressed together in a tight line as you fought down the urge to throttle your classmate.

Back in the sleepy lull of the conference room, he continued, “So if someone asks a question, but it’s not directed at me, should I answer it?”

Jieqiong shook her head. Even Minghao, half-asleep in his maroon scrubs, shook his head.

Seungkwan, you know, is a gunner.

It’s so hard to hate him, you’ve realized. It would be easier if he was someone else – someone who didn’t share his tater tots with you in the morning, someone who wasn’t all smiles and cheekbones and lit up like the sun when blowing bubbles at cooing toddlers. You started every morning laughing about his weekend karaoke sessions, or Chan’s mistake of treating him to Korean barbeque, or the time that he swore that he had set up his two interns on his medicine rotation, but with every answer that he stole from you, your ire grew and grew until you had to spam text your friends to vent about this annoying, smartass classmate that all the residents loved with his stupid, perfect hair and his stupid, perfect face.

You tried to talk about this with your residents, but they just claimed that they didn’t notice anything. You tried to talk about this with your attending, and was met with her fantastic advice of, “can you answer faster than him?” You tried to be faster than him, but your voice was like mist while his was the foghorn cutting through the night.

Day after day, you continued this cycle, the steps the same: rosy cheeks in the hospital cafeteria while eating breakfast together, then fingernails digging into the palms of your hands with jealously, then brow furrowed as your thumbs flew across your touch screen keyboard.

One time, he packed an extra Tupperware of japchae and samgyeopsal after he saw that you were skipping lunches to finish your notes.

One time, you passed by when he was singing lullabies to a fussy baby as he rocked her back to sleep, falling in love with the melodic sanctuary obscuring the wires and tubes and beeps of the monitor.

One time, your friend had asked you if you wanted to be him or you wanted to be with him.

One time, you texted him and asked if you could do your admissions alone, because you really didn’t need him hovering and you really didn’t need him to interview the parents and you really didn’t need him to make this his admission, again. (You deleted that part, of course).

One time, he had followed you to the supply closet as you stared at different brands of infant formula in confusion. He plucked the right bottle from the shelf and handed it to you, explaining its nutritional value and how it fit the caloric needs of the newborn in the ICU. You confronted him, asking him to back off, and did he feel good whenever he showed off? Whenever he made you look dumb?

One time, you had made Boo Seungkwan cry, bright eyes ringed red as he stuttered denials and withered under your glare. “I didn’t think I came across that way,” he said, his fingers pressing underneath his eyes to hide the tears that betrayed his usually confident demeanor.

“I’m sure,” you scoffed. “Because none of your other classmates ‘do shit,’ right? So all this time when you’ve been answering questions directed at me, about my patients, it’s because I’m slacking off, right?”

“No!” the boy exclaimed, holding up his hands to you in a show of surrender. “I mean, maybe with other classmates, sure, but I see that you work really hard, and sometimes I also notice that you don’t eat and you go silent whenever you get something wrong and I always feel so bad—”

“Seungkwan,” you breathed, a tone lower but still strung high with bitterness, advancing on him as he stepped backwards until he was trapped between your angry eyes and the metal rack behind him, “Your kind of help is not something that I want.” You were close enough to see the movement of his Adam’s apple, to feel the heat of his breath, to smell the faint fruitiness of his cologne, and in your adrenaline rush of weeks of pent-up annoyance and frustration, you fisted the fabric of his purple shirt and pulled him towards you, your lips meeting his with the sharp promise of teeth behind it. Your heart beat faster as you heard him squeak in surprise, your hand relaxing around his collar as the other combed through his hair, his fingers digging into your hips. The bottle of formula had dropped to the floor and rolled but at this point, you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anything other than the feeling of his plush bottom lip between yours and the warmth of his tongue and how his fingers had crept underneath your blouse and imprinted on the small of your back, pulling your hips flush against his. Your mouth left his to wander along his jaw up to his earlobe, your hands steadying yourself on his shoulders as you nibbled, hearing him let out a choked gasp as his own hands traveled ever upward to cup the swell of your breasts. He ground against you, your thigh flexed between his legs, and your lips lilted dangerously when you felt his length beneath your hand, and all Seungkwan could think about was how hot you were and how you hated him and oh God I’m going to have sex in a supply closet—

You pushed him away, straightened your clothes, and left.

One time, instead of chasing after his certainty, or his poise, or even his knowledge, you left Seungkwan chasing you.

—

You decided to have lunch outside today, the weather cool enough to not melt underneath the afternoon sun, the pages of your textbook flipping in the breeze where it laid open on the picnic table. An iced coffee was set down in front of you as you looked up to see your classmate hesitantly smiling, his lips almost pursed as he held his own iced Americano like a life vest. “I know that you probably hate me, but Chan told me that I was being an ass and I’m really sorry. Also, I miss sharing tater tots with you.”

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered, gesturing for him to sit. “I mean, my evaluations clearly compare me to you, and maybe I’m still bitter about that, but whatever.” You can see him wince at your offhand remark, the both of you knowing that evaluations were always the touchiest factor in the grading scheme of clinical rotations. “I just have to be better at knowing stuff, I guess,” you sighed.

“You know things, you’re just quieter about it,” he replied, and you laughed airily. The wind picked up, signaling the beginnings of autumn as small leaves blown from their branches floated around you like confetti. Seungkwan plucked one from your hair, and as loud and attention-grabbing as he can be, he didn’t fail to notice how pretty your laugh sounded.

“I’m sorry for like, cornering you and kissing you,” you said, your cheeks turning red. “I don’t know what came over me –”

“I kissed back,” he shrugged. “Can’t say that I haven’t been imagining that happening at some point, though.”

“And I can’t say that it’ll happen again, especially in a unit full of children.” You smiled at him and drew your cardigan tighter around your frame. “But seriously, I like being with you. I just hate being compared to you. It’s like being compared to the sun. Everyone notices you, and I’m in your shadow.”

Seungkwan looked down, his eyes fixed on the uneven grain of the wooden table. “I notice you, a lot. And again, I’m really sorry.”

He felt his wire-rimmed glasses being lifted from his face, and his eyes flickered upward to meet yours in question. “Why don’t we just finish this rotation, I’ll forget that you were such a gunner, and we can make out in places that are not supply closets?” you grinned. You looked around, eyes roaming over the empty parking lot, to the swaying trees, to Seungkwan’s brown eyes. “This looks like a pretty good place to start,” you whispered, your hand cupping his cheek as you settled down into his lap.

His arms wrapped around your waist in a firm grip. “Don’t think I’m going to let you go,” he muttered, his eyes darkening.

“Don’t worry,” you smiled, leaning in close enough that your breath tickled his ear. “I’ll give you the kind of help that you need.”

[dawnover-dusk]

like water, like air (breathe)

like water, like air (breathe)

summary: all you know is that every time you surface, you inevitably sink again. but jeonghan is like air, and you’re afraid that once he leaves, you won’t survive in water anymore.  

resident psychiatrist jeonghan x resident internist reader

At every step, you felt like you were drowning. After four years, you thought that you could finally break through the currents and let air fill your starved lungs, but relief, like it always was, was temporary. One month later, the waves magnified and crashed over you again, and you could barely remember what it felt like to be able to breathe.

So when you introduced yourself to the senior residents on your new team, you had to stifle a gasp at the picturesque man who occupied the seat next to yours, his hand outstretched with a lazy grin. He wore a billowy button-down shirt with red and white pinstripes tucked into black slacks, the top button undone to expose the expanse of his neck and hint at defined clavicles.

“Jeonghan,” he stated, platinum blonde hair framing his hooded eyes. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” you muttered, your hand grasping his delicately. You busied yourself with grabbing your list from the printer and trying to clear your mind of unnecessary thoughts, most of which were surrounding your fellow intern lazily running his long fingers over his own patient list.

“Just to warn you,” Seungcheol, your senior resident, began, “the attending on service is a bit of a hardass. Really nitpicky, so be thorough when presenting admissions.” He had swiveled around in his chair to address the two of you, and you could see the faint dark circles outlining his otherwise warm eyes. He glanced at you for a moment before breaking out into a gummy smile, “Don’t look so worried, though. This dude graduated a month ago so he’s only been an attending for like, two seconds. We’ve got your back.”

Jihoon, the other senior resident, ceased his endless typing to let out a grunt. “I’ve seen him make interns cry. It’s so unnecessary,” he gruffly agreed.

“That’s not very impressive,” you shrugged. “Scrub techs made me cry in medical school, it’s not really a feat.”

Jihoon had resumed typing in his orders, but you could see him raise an eyebrow. “You know, it’s not very common to just blatantly admit your weaknesses to people when you first meet them.”

“We’re only together for a month,” you smiled. “I thought we could speed up the ‘getting to know each other’ process.” You could hear Jeonghan’s tinkling laughter beside you, and you turned to face your computer to ignore the heat that rose to your cheeks from the sound.

However, you couldn’t ignore the sky blue post-it that made its way to your keyboard. You glanced at your neighbor out of the corner of your eye, but Jeonghan was diligently writing down lab values, his lips ever so slightly parted.

Shua made me promise to look out for his “crybaby,” but he didn’t tell me that you were so pretty :) I always keep my promises, so don’t worry!

You snatched the post-it, along with your list, and with a quick “I’m going to pre-round now bye!” you were out the door, missing the upward curl of Jeonghan’s lips.

---

me [7:01 AM]: JOSHUA HONG me [7:01 AM]: how dare u gossip about me to our peers me [7:02 AM]: it’s so embarrassing me [7:02 AM]: also why is ur friend flirting with me

joshuji [7:05 AM]: can you, like, not??? i was trying to use the interpreting service and your texts kept buzzing my phone joshuji [7:05 AM]: don’t you have patients to see too

me [7:05 AM]: sending image

joshuji [7:07 AM]: big yike joshuji [7:07 AM]: this is so out of character for him? he was actually really shy and nervous in medical school. idk maybe you are pretty go get it ;)

me [8:00 AM]: i was so horrified that i did not regain the ability to type until now. get what, exactly? me [8:00 AM]: also i know that i’m not your type but MAYBE?? me [8:01 AM]: rude. i retroactively retract all my “you look so nice today” statements

joshuji [8:03 AM]: fine. you’re pretty for a crybaby joshuji [8:03 AM]: lunch in the lounge at 1?

me [8:05 AM]: ofc. my few constants in life – complaining in the lounge and getting sassed by you. wouldn’t miss it

---

You would be impressed that you had lasted a whole week if you weren’t busy trying to disguise the familiar stinging set behind your eyes. The workroom felt stuffier than usual, with the addition of two eager medical students in the corner and the attending in the center, his unrelenting gaze on you. After fumbling with finding what the initial vital signs in the ED were and when the last albuterol dose was given, your panic had risen to the point where your mind was wiped clean. And of course, that was when he had asked you to give a differential diagnosis.

You were never so grateful for the hierarchy established than you were at that moment. Seungkwan and Chan did well in filling in different etiologies for respiratory distress, and you made a note to give them positive feedback at the end of the day. However, it was your turn to give the leading diagnosis, and Seungcheol and Jihoon glaring daggers at the attending’s back did little to ease your anxiety.

You felt a light touch at your elbow and a pen clatter to the floor beside you. Jeonghan leaned over and whispered, the sound disguised as a cough as he swooped down to pick up the pen. Fighting off the embarrassment, you held onto this shred of information that Jeonghan had slipped you like a buoy, only letting out a deep exhale when the attending nodded in satisfaction and left to see the patients.

“Excuse me,” you whispered as you stood up, hurriedly opening and slamming the door to the workroom behind your retreating figure. You escaped to the nearby call room, empty and dark in the day time, and tried to catch your breath on one of the threadbare mattresses.

Seungcheol gave an imperceptible nod to Jeonghan as he also stood up. “Well, I’m going to grab coffee, anyone want anything?”

Jihoon called out, “A coke, please,” before his deep voice grumbled at the students to go write their notes. Seungkwan and Chan immediately turned to their own computers to avoid Jihoon’s indifferent stare, while Seungcheol rolled his eyes and complimented them on their presentations.

In the call room, you heard a light knock before a series of electronic beeps on the door’s keypad. The handle turned softly and you turned your head to see Jeonghan’s silhouette bathed by the fluorescent lights of the hallway. He stepped inside and let the door close behind him, the room again falling back into the darkness.

You kept your face in your hands as you hastily tried to wipe away your tears. The mattress dipped beside you as Jeonghan sat down, his hands clasped in his lap.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice uneven. You tried to take a breath, but you ended up shuddering instead. “This is so embarrassing. This has happened to me so many times, but I still don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I can’t get over it—”

“It’s okay if you can’t,” Jeonghan interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what people always say, that you’ll get used to it, but I don’t think it’s something that you should get used to. I’ve only worked with you for a week but you’re so smart, and kind, and your patients love you. Even the med students like you, they’re always clamoring over themselves to impress you.”

You let out a chuckle at the memory of Seungkwan and Chan both trying to get you to review their notes as Jeonghan sat in his corner, pretend-glaring at Chan.

“Can I hug you?” Jeonghan asked, and you nodded. You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders as he pulled you against him, hands rubbing circles on your back. You could hear the steady beating of his heart and the faint smell of his cologne, and it surprised you how comfortable you felt wrapped in the warmth of his body.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you mumbled, your arms wrapping around his waist to give a quick squeeze before pulling back.

“Hannie?” he asked, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue.

“Oh, sorry, Joshua always calls you that—”

“No, I like it when you call me that,” he mumbled, his eyes lighting up despite the darkness of the room. “It totally beats the ‘Yoon Jeonghan (Intern)’ that you have me saved as in your phone.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed, pushing him lightly before getting up. “As if you don’t have me saved as the same thing.”

“No, you’re ‘Pretty Crybaby’ with a bottle emoji next to it.”

You stared at him, horrified, and hit his shoulder. “You have to change it!”

“Only if you change me to ‘Hannie”, he grinned, his pinky outstretched. You rolled your eyes and linked your pinky with his.

That night, you dreamed of the deep, open sea, but rays of light broke through the water like slender fingers guiding you towards the surface.

---

“I’ve missed you,” Jeonghan pouted, handing you a can of coffee from the refrigerator. You finished gathering your hair up into the messiest of ponytails and grabbed the can, smiling reflexively when your fingertips lingered on his. You stood in front of him in old scrubs and sneakers, devoid of makeup and tired, and you marveled at how he could still flirt with you.

“You won’t be saying that after our 24-hour shift together this weekend,” you pointed out.

“It’ll be like a sleepover, I’m so excited,” he deadpanned, and you both laughed at his tone of voice. “But really, handling the kids on my own is so tiresome.”

“You basically adopted Chan on the third day.”

“Okay, handling Seungkwan on my own is so tiresome.”

The two students bounded through the door of the lounge, as if on cue. They left their backpacks in the corner and beamed at you as you handed them printed lists. 

“Time for sign-out, Dr. Boo, Dr. Lee,” you grinned, ruffling Seungkwan and Chan’s hair. “Pay attention, Dr. Yoon,” you giggled, ducking down to avoid Jeonghan’s hand aimed at your head.

---

kwan [3:10 PM]: when will they let us leave?? I need to study kwan [3:12 PM]: and it’s so boring with only jeonghan to bother kwan [3:12 PM]: he just leans back in his chair like this is his house kwan [3:13 PM]: and I’m still offended by what he said about me being tiresome

chan [3:15 PM]: I’m literally right next to you? chan [3:15 PM]: We can always pull the ‘Is there anything else I can help with before I go” card chan [3:16 PM]: more importantly, did you also hear about them having a 24 hour shift together? chan [3:16 PM]: I ship it

kwan [3:17 PM]: omg I know I wonder if there are any workplace rules or w/e kwan [3:18 PM]: but then again jeonghan has already been v flirty kwan [3:18 PM]: maybe I’ll put that in his evaluation. “I admire his ability to shoot his shots”

chan [3:20 PM]: #rolemodel #inspo

---

The weekend came, and with it, the rain. Water pelted against glass windows in sheets as the low rumble of thunder echoed throughout the city. You were sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress with your laptop balanced on your knees, the rest of your belongings shoved in the corner where the bed met the wall. You heard the familiar beeping of the keypad, and like a week prior, Jeonghan stood in the doorway.

He gave you a quick “hi” before collapsing onto the other bed across from you, folding his arms across his stomach.

“Rough night?” you asked sympathetically, rummaging around in your bag for a snack to share.

“I don’t know what it is about the rain that makes everyone in this hospital so crazy,” you heard Jeonghan mutter under his breath. He rolled onto his side to face you and you placed a small box of banana milk next to him. He took it gratefully and poked the straw through the top, letting out a contented sigh.

“Let’s get some rest before they wake us up about that guy in room 5102 not peeing again,” you said, placing your laptop to the side and getting up to turn off the light. You heard an incoherent mumble in response. Shaking your head, you smiled and felt for the blanket folded at the foot of the bed, covering it carefully over Jeonghan’s form and moving the box of milk to the nightstand. Before you could turn back to your own bed, you felt a hand in yours and a brush of lips across your knuckles.

It was whisper, almost lost against the hum of the air conditioning. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

This time, you dream of floating, your body weightless as you stared up at the blue sky above you.

---

It’s almost the end of your month with Jeonghan when it finally hits you.

“Joshua, I’m screwed,” you groan, your hand dropping your fork back into your salad bowl. Joshua scoffs across from you, taking a bite of his pasta and swallowing before waving his own fork in your direction.

“What are you talking about? You’ve been doing super well on the team, from what I’ve heard.”

“It’s who you’ve heard this stuff from that’s the problem, Joshua,” you sigh. “I’m too old to have crushes.”

Joshua gasped dramatically, and snickered when you shot a glare at him across the table. “Sometimes, you’re really dense. You’re literally all that Hannie talks about. Well, you and your med student, Chan.”

“But we only have one more week together, and then what?” you ask glumly, poking at the wilting leaves.

Joshua reached his hand to still your movements. “Hey, you’re talking like you’re never going to see him again after this block. We still make time for each other, and I’m sure you two can, if you want to.”

“But you guys are also technically psychiatry residents,” you stated, moving your hand from under Joshua’s grasp. “You’re not going to be around after this year.” You could feel the tightness behind your nose, the quickening beat of your heart, and the uncomfortable lurch in your stomach as reality soaked through you, dripping wet and cold.

You would be on a different team in a week.

Joshua and Jeonghan would be gone in a few months.

The crisp air that filled your greedy lungs would be replaced by the burn of seawater again and again, the tide a relentless onslaught every time your head broke through the surface. You had learned how to breathe again through hooded eyes and lazy smiles and faint cologne, through a shock of platinum blonde hair and a lilting voice.

But this time, you didn’t know how you would fare when you went under again.

“Why do you think that we won’t see each other anymore?” Joshua asked quietly. In the back of your mind, you knew that he was slipping into his psychiatry persona, trying to get you to talk about your worries and fears. And as much as you knew that it would feel better to talk about it, and as much as you trusted Joshua, you couldn’t explain it.

You couldn’t tell him that you ended up having no one in your third year of medical school, the friendly waves in the hallway turning to tense, unsaid competition between your classmates for good evaluations and honors.

You couldn’t tell him that with every team that you’ve been on during your intern year, you end up dispersing on the last day, going separate ways despite the physical and emotional investment spent caring for patients and for each other.

You couldn’t tell him that he was just a fluke, an anomaly in your track history of brief, intense connections that characterized your entire career thus far.

You couldn’t tell him that everyone always left.

And you had learned to survive with water in your lungs, but Jeonghan tasted like air, clean and proper and euphoric.

What you said, instead, was, “I’m scared.”

It was truth enough.

---

han [7:35 PM]: I’m so excited about tomorrow han [7:36 PM]: last day~ but maybe we can finally go on a proper date

shua [7:37 PM]: bro, you need to have an honest conversation with her shua [7:37 PM]: she thinks you’re just never going to speak again after tomorrow shua [7:38 PM]: well, she thinks we’re all not going to speak to her after our intern year ends because we’re in different programs, but that’s a whole other thing shua [7:39 PM]: there is a lot of catastrophizing

han [7:40 PM]: I’ll appreciate it if you didn’t psychoanalyze my future s/o han [7:41 PM]: I mean, you’re right, but still

shua [7:42 PM]: aren’t you getting ahead of yourself there buddy

han [7:45 PM]: no. I’ve been an absolute angel

shua [7:45 PM]: I already regret setting you up shua [7:46 PM]: what did my sweet crybaby do to deserve this

---

“Hannie?” you answered tentatively, brows furrowing in confusion when you saw your phone screen light up with his name.

“Uh, hey,” he laughed, the sound tinny and nasal. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Yeah, is something wrong?” you ask, your thoughts flashing to the conversation you had with Joshua several days ago. You could feel something akin to dread rise up in your chest, but you pushed it down.

“No, nothing bad. Do you live in the resident housing complex? I can come over.”

“Okay,” you sigh, giving him your apartment number. Twenty minutes later, you heard a knock on your door, and you let Jeonghan in.

“So,” the blonde started, settling himself on your sofa, “Joshua told me that you were…worried.”

“Joshua needs to stay out of my business,” you muttered under your breath. Jeonghan grinned and patted the space next to him, and when you sat down, his sweater-clad arm wrapped around you like it was a motion that he had perfected for years.

“I’m just going to come out and say it,” he said, his heart starting to quicken in his chest. “I was really excited about our last day together because I thought I could finally ask you out properly.”

Your eyes widen as you angled yourself towards him. “Oh, so you mean those moments in the call room weren’t dates?” you teased, and he covered his face with his hands.

“Ugh, you’re not making this any easier,” he whined, and you laughed before wrapping your hands around his wrists and gently pulling his hands away from his face. You smiled gently at him before averting your gaze, suddenly shy as your hands traveled down his wrists to rest in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Hannie,” your voice no more than a whisper. Your eyes were fixed resolutely to the floor as you spoke. “I’m just not used to people wanting to stick around, and I’m scared about what’ll happen in the future.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Of course I want to stick around. It’s weird, but I feel like I want to know everything about you. Like, I went into psychiatry because I was interested in how people became who they were, but these past few weeks, I just wanted to know how you became the person you are today. Someone who works hard, who feels with their entire being. Someone who I’ve grown really attracted to.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. “You can’t just say these things, Jeonghan,” you protested, feeling the rumble of laughter through his body.

“I can promise you that we’ll make it work. Even after tomorrow. Even after this year.”

You pulled away to look up into his brown eyes, at the curve of his nose, at his red lips pulled into a wide smile. You breathed out, “and you always keep your promises” before pulling him towards you, lips singing praises against his, wrapped up in a brown sweater and a gentle breeze whispering Jeonghan, Jeonghan, Jeonghan.

---

my hannie [6:01 AM]: I’m on the shuttle to the inpatient psych center! you’re probably still asleep, sorry that I couldn’t get you breakfast :( my hannie [6:02 AM]: but just wanted to wish you luck on your first day as a !! second !! year!! can you believe it? i’m so proud of you, baby. everyone’s going to love you, but not as much as me~ my hannie [6:03 AM]: shua says good luck too! I’m going to try to take a nap, it is way too early my hannie [6:05 AM]: but also….Joshua or Jeonghan?

my baby [6:30 AM]: omg hannie of course you, you big dummy. I woke up sad bc the bed was empty and then panicked bc I forgot that I didn’t have to go to sign-out anymore my baby [6:31 AM]: good luck on your first day too! poor hannie, you have to get up so early my baby [6:32 AM]: I’ll grab takeout and then we can cuddle tonight and talk about our days?

my hannie [7:00 AM]: ah yes, my most natural state – lying down in your arms. sounds perfect my hannie [7:01 AM]: I love you so much, pretty baby

my baby [7:02 AM]: well I guess it’s an upgrade from ‘pretty crybaby’ my baby [7:02 AM]: love you too

[dawnover-dusk]

PhD!Woozi x med student!reader

“You know, I can’t do IV drugs,” you mused from your place on the couch. “I don’t have the veins for it.”

Jihoon raised his brows as he placed his headphones around his neck, glancing at you in confusion. His silent question of whether or not he heard you correctly was promptly answered when he saw you gazing at your forearms intently, your laptop open with your question bank forgotten at your feet. The disbelief in his voice changed his uncertain laugh into a scoff, and he wondered if he should return to the electronic parts strewn all over his desk or do the responsible thing – namely, put you to bed.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw your fingers begin to gently prod at your skin and with a sigh, he threw his headphones down onto the desk and stood up. “It’s your bedtime,” he announced, and you looked up to see your boyfriend stretching from the hours that he had been sat fiddling with his prototype hearing aid.

“Wait, no, a few more questions,” you exclaimed, hurriedly grabbing your laptop again. “I’m so sorry for interrupting you; I got distracted. A lot of the questions were about patients who were using substances—”

“Babe, you’re obviously not learning any more tonight, you might as well go to sleep.”

You pouted at the man before you. He stood with his arms crossed, his brown hair peeking out from under a black cap with the brim covering his eyes, the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly at your attempt to plead with him. “I want to keep you company,” you began as you wrapped your arms around his middle, bringing your head up against his stomach. “And it honestly makes me feel a little guilty to see you working so late while I should be doing the same, but I’m not. Hoonie, you’re about to finish an extremely competitive doctorate program in record time and launch your first medical device, and I’m just….here,” you mumbled, your arms unconsciously tightening around him as you fought the crack in your voice. “Below average in my class and barely surviving.”

Jihoon cautiously ran his hands through your hair, his heart lurching as you whispered your insecurities. He had sensed that something was off ever since he told you that he would be defending his thesis soon, a full year earlier than expected. Since then, you had insisted on staying up with him as he worked – or at least, tried to, as you consistently fell asleep on the couch with your laptop and your notes. You had woken up a couple of times when Jihoon carried you to your shared bed, or when he shook you awake after nightmares about evaluations and grades and making mistakes in the hospital.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, his voice low and comforting against the steady hum of the air conditioning and the honking of cars in the distance. You felt him pry your arms from around him as he squatted to your eye level, his fingers intertwining with your own. “I’m sorry that I haven’t asked – truly asked – about how you’ve been. I’ve felt so thankful that you’ve wanted to keep me company these past few weeks, but now it’s my turn to take care of you, okay?” His fingers brushed slowly over your knuckles, but you still couldn’t meet his eyes with your own. Jihoon shifted his weight forward to softly kiss your forehead.

“You wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t extraordinary,”

--a kiss to your cheek,

“and I’m crazy in love with you regardless.”

--a kiss to your nose,

“You’re my everything, and you’re so damn good to me,” he finished, pulling you towards him to kiss your parted lips.

“Thank you, Jihoon,” you breathed when you parted, the familiarity in his gaze soothing your frayed nerves. “I really needed to hear that.”

Jihoon stood up and offered his hand out to you. Giving one last glance to your work, you took his hand and let him lead you to bed. For one night, you’d cast aside your worries about your future, giving into the steadiness and safety that was being wrapped up in Jihoon’s arms.

[dawnover-dusk]

drabble inspired by hug. most of you are probably on summer vacation but i’m not and i’m having a hard time ok 

Rays of sunlight broke through the clouds and into your apartment, highlighting the dust particles swirling lazily in air to match your current state of mind. Your textbook dug into your back and you shifted to avoid its corners. You felt warm – perhaps, that was why sleep was calling –  as the sun illuminated your curled up form, pressed into a fluffy rug and against the tall boy lying beside you.

Your fingers drew circles in his orange knit sweater from where your hand was resting on his waist. You could feel his muscles tense and relax underneath your neck as he precariously held his phone above your face, giggling at whatever video he was watching on the device. You hummed contently as you snuggled further into his form, and you felt him shift to look down at you.

“Are you going to sleep?”

You felt his hand cradle your face and tuck stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“If I don’t say anything, will you let me?” you ask, smiling with your eyes closed.

“Ah, too late, the rouse has been broken,” he chuckled, and you opened your eyes to see his grin. You whined and turned into the crook of his neck and you heard a laugh as his arms wrapped around your back. “You need to get back to studying, I already gave you fifteen minutes!” he scolded.

“But you’re soft and comfy,” you breathed into his neck.

“But your head is heavy and I will drop this phone on your face.”

You rolled away from him and shot him a glare before slowly sitting up, missing his fond gaze as you twisted to grab your forgotten textbook.

“Come here,” Minghao called softly, and you turned to see the afternoon sunlight cast a halo around him, a sight that almost made you breathless no matter how many times you’ve seen the brown-haired boy before you. You smiled and took his outstretched hand, claiming your rightful place on his inviting lap as he embraced you. You could feel his lips on the top of your head before you heard his calm murmur, “You’ve worked hard. I’m proud of you.”

You didn’t want to admit that such a simple statement could bring you to tears, but your body betrayed you as you felt the tell-tale heaviness build up behind your nose and in your throat. Your head settled on his shoulder as he ran his hands up and down your back.

Your unsteady hands reached upward to cup his face, and as your lips met his, you hoped that he could feel your heart beating against your chest, or the warmth seeping into your body, or the fact that he had become your home.

Above all, you hoped that he knew the words that you couldn’t say:

Thank you, and

I love you too.

[dawnover-dusk]

when to stop waiting

genre: fluff, angst word count: 4,386 member: joshua summary: college sucks, but then there’s him. note: happy birthday @seventeen-requests 💕🎉

1st year

It is a well-established truth that high school, for anyone, is shit.

What they don’t tell you, however, is that the promise land of college is also equally as shit.

A crisp breeze seeped into your skin like ice water as you withdrew further into an old sweatshirt, the sleeves already dampened as you furiously rubbed away the tears escaping from red-rimmed eyes. Your bag was thrown haphazardly next to you, obscuring the proudly etched “donated by the class of 1971” on the worn stone bench. Before you stretched out the gothic-styled towers and arches of West Campus, and beyond that, the rusty reds and browns of autumn around a picturesque blue lake. But here you sat, in the shadow of the building of the English department, trying to calm your breathing as you clutched onto crumpled pieces of paper.

Put that in a college brochure, you thought bitterly.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice said, interrupting your state of self-misery. You looked up to see a boy from your freshman writing seminar, the one with chocolate brown hair and matching eyes. He was the type of guy that you would steal glances at, but never approach. Judging from his ear piercings contrasting with his soft pastel cardigan aesthetic, you figured that he was an eccentric, yet kind-hearted soul, and you honestly couldn’t deal with how put together he always seemed. He had a hand around his backpack strap slung over one shoulder and another steadying a bicycle, which you guessed that he had locked up on the bike racks right next to the bench that you were wallowing on. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, hoping that you sounded steady and confident. Unfortunately for you, your voice turned into a breathy squeak, and the boy from your seminar propped his bike against the bench and pushed your bag over so he could sit. 

“I’m Joshua,” he began, “from the writing seminar?” You gave a slight nod, almost imperceptible, but he took it as a cue to continue. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but the sun is setting and your friends might be worried…” he trailed off, his voice lilting and rhythmic. You let out a scoff.

“No, I’m pretty sure she’s running her poetry workshop right now, but I appreciate it.” If he had noticed your use of a singular pronoun, he hid it well. You assumed that he had had enough of comforting an unresponsive stranger, understandably so, and weren’t at all surprised when he got up and started wheeling his bicycle away.

What did surprise you, however, was that he was walking away with your bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you yelled after him. He looked over his shoulder to see you standing this time, your hair tinged with the golden hue of the setting sun and with hands still clenched around crumpled paper. 

“Come on, it’s chicken night at the dining hall and the lines get really long,” he called back, and you had no choice but to run after him.

--

“So, I guess we should get the typical introductions out of the way? I’m Seungcheol, exercise science major,” he said, breaking out into a friendly smile.

“Jeonghan, marketing!” a blonde boy called out from where he lied sprawled out on a bed, his brow furrowed as he swiped furiously on his phone. Letting out a groan and tossing his phone to the side, he continued, “Well, I lost, so now is a great time to get some food.”

“I’m an English major,” Joshua added. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both stared at their roommate in disbelief – did Joshua just pick up a random girl? – but shrugged and grabbed their ID cards, pushing past Joshua to stand in the hallway.

“Y/N, undecided, and your friend here stole my bag,” you huffed out. You tried to make another grab at it, possibly your seventh attempt at doing so, and your eyes widened when Joshua sidestepped you, threw your bag into his room, and closed the door. “Does he do this often?” you asked incredulously, your voice rising.

“No, he’s usually quite the gentleman,” Seungcheol said, mirroring your shock.

“We’ll protect you from this newfound dark side of our friend, but after I get some food,” Jeonghan said playfully, bounding down the hall. 

Over plates and plates of chicken in a crowded dining hall, you began to loosen up, any negativity you had felt earlier dissipating as your energy was now redirected to laughing at Joshua’s impromptu rapping, Seungcheol’s embarrassment, and Jeonghan’s emphatic cheers.

After bidding Seungcheol and Jeonghan a good night and with your bag safely slung over your own shoulder this time, you began your trek back to your dorm. Joshua had insisted on walking with you, and you could feel his gaze on your profile. With a sharp inhale, you rummaged in your bag for those crumpled papers and handed it to the boy next to you. “I was upset because I absolutely hate our writing TA.”

“Not a writer?” Joshua asked, squinting a bit to see the words underneath the dim lampposts. 

“Not for formal literary analyses, no,” you sighed. “It seems like I always find out what I’m bad at rather than what I’m good at.”

“I can help you, if you want. It’s the least I could do since I dragged you to dinner with me.”

“That would be great, actually,” you smiled. “Speaking of which, why’d you do that?”

Silence fell between the pair of you as you continued walking, the hum of electrical generators and crickets replacing the conversation. “I was that quiet kid in high school who was always waiting for someone to approach me,” Joshua began. “You reminded me of that.”

“Well…thanks. It turned out a lot less awkward than I expected it to be.” You came to a stop in front of your dorm entrance. “See you in class?” you asked as you held your ID in front of the scanner and opened the door. 

He nodded, and with a soft smile, watched you disappear from view behind the heavy wooden door.

2nd year

“You need to pick a major by December,” Byulyi stated. You hummed next to her in acknowledgement but didn’t open your eyes; the warmth of August sunshine and the stuffiness of the room had made you drowsy. You heard Byulyi roll over beside you and felt a tugging at the hem of your shirt, which had ridden up from your tossing and turning. “You must have thought about it, right?” your friend continued to prod, and you opened your eyes groggily.

“Only all of my freshman year,” you bit back. You rolled away from her warmth and closer to open door of your room. “Sorry we can’t all be super talented and win every poetry slam competition in the universe.”

“I came in second that one time,” Byulyi protested, and you snorted. “Okay, but you have to like something. What are you excited about learning? What do you like doing?”

“Will you leave me alone if I honestly, genuinely say ‘nothing’? And as my grades show, I’m not great at anything either.”

“She’s a writer,” a softer voice interrupted, “and a liar, too, apparently. Why are you two rolling around on the floor?” You looked to your side to see Joshua and you held up your arm. He sighed and pulled you to your feet.

“Hello, neighbor,” you said with forced cheer, trying to steer clear of this conversation topic. “I would hug you, but it’s too hot.”

“Wait, you let him read your writing and not me? Your best friend? Scandalizing,” Byulyi chucked a pillow at you. “What do you write? Never mind, you’re never going to answer. What does she write?” the blonde-haired girl asked in rapid succession, redirecting her curiosity to Joshua.

“Short scripts, scenes. She’s really good at dialogue. I actually came over to ask if you could do me a huge favor and possibly take a film studies class with me?” 

“She’ll do it. I’ll add the class to her schedule myself, if I have to,” Byulyi interjected confidently. You nodded at Joshua in defeat and smiled as he squeezed your shoulder gratefully before leaving, promising to see you at dinner.

“So, you and Joshua,” Byulyi began.

“He’s been editing my writing since last year! It’s strictly professional, or academic, or whatever.”

“Then can I read your writing?”

“No,” you refused without a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to take a nap, wake me up at dinnertime.”

“Already don’t know what to do with yourself when you’re away from him?”

“Oh. My God. Byulyi.”

The girl in question was met with a pillow to her face.

--

“Why are you taking this class anyway?” you asked, reaching over to steal a handful of popcorn from the tub that was nestled in Joshua’s lap. You were at the school cinema, waiting for a showing of one of the assigned films to begin.

“It was one of those general topic requirements for my major, and I thought I might as well. I have so much to read anyway from my other English classes.”

The lights darkened and you contently settled against your friend, his warmth welcome and inviting as you became engrossed in the movie.

“You know, this would never happen in real life,” you heard him whisper in your ear, and the sudden closeness caused you to flinch. You blinked at him and nodded.

“Well, yeah, but he’s just a foil to the protagonist. He came from the same background and has to make the same choices, but he chooses the dark while she chooses the light. It’s classic good and evil, black and white. Real life is a lot more gray – and wow, I’m starting to sound like you.”

“That was really, really good. It didn’t seem to come so easily last year, though,” he teased.

“Maybe I’m more of a visual learner?” you shrugged, flushing at his compliment.

--

“Joshua!” you screamed excitedly as you barreled down the stone steps, your hands cold and red in the November chill. The tall boy turned around quizzically in his dark pea coat, one hand gripping the guitar case strap on his shoulder. “I got my first A!” 

You barely had time to skid to a stop in the slippery snow and threw your arms around him, thanking him profusely. “When I went to get my final grade, the professor even said that she wanted me in her screenwriting course next semester!”

“That’s wonderful,” he breathed, staring at you in utter awe. “I think you’ve found your major!”

“Wait, what? It was just one class, though, Joshua, what if I’m not that good?”

He held you by your shoulders, his eyes on yours. “It doesn’t matter if people love or hate your work. What matters is that you have stories to tell, and that you have fun while doing it, right?” You gave him a small nod. “Plus, the deadline’s in a few weeks anyway, so you have to declare a major no matter what.” With a scowl, you pushed his arms away and pouted.

“Okay, I’m going to do it, but it will be because of your inspiring pep talk and not that last bit that you threw in there.”

“Fine by me,” he grinned, his gloved hand tugging your bare one towards the film department’s building.

3rd year

“Promise that you won’t get mad at me.” You had approached the three friends with your hands behind your back and your best puppy-dog expression.

“I have never seen Joshua truly angry, but that is never a good way to start off a conversation,��� Jeonghan said.

“Did you watch Boku no Hero without him or something?” Seungcheol joked.

“Probably worse? I may have…gotten you a slot to perform at the spring Korean Students’ Association show,” you blurted out, handing him the set list that you were hiding. “Okay, before you freak out, I know that you work behind the scenes on that show every year but this time I really think you need to show the world how good you are! Seokmin and Seungkwan said they’d be happy to sing with you if you don’t want to do it alone – ”

“I’ll do it,” Joshua nodded and you squealed happily. “With Seokmin and Seungkwan. And you’ll owe me dinner and anime marathons for the next two weeks.”

You nodded profusely and waved as he entered his class, letting out a loud “yes” once he was out of earshot. Seungcheol stared at you in wonder before pulling you away from the classroom doors.

“He must really like you if he’s agreeing to do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Joshua has major stage fright,” Seungcheol whispered, eyeing the doors warily in hopes that his friend wouldn’t hear him gossiping. “He used to perform all the time at church when he was younger, but one day, he just played his guitar without singing, and then over time, nothing at all. He hasn’t performed in front of other people since.”

You bit your lip in worry. Your Joshua was confident, unfazed by teasing, knew what he wanted and how to go about getting it. What could shake him up so much? You remember him strumming his guitar during your late night study sessions, singing airy songs about pizza and chocolate. You remember the feel of calloused fingertips gentle on your skin. It always seemed to you that music was what Joshua was truly passionate about, even more than the books that he was constantly buried in. Had you made a mistake?

“I’m going to tell Seokmin and Seungkwan the good news,” you replied dumbly, walking away from Seungcheol’s questioning gaze.

--

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you tried again. You were waiting for Seokmin and Seungkwan to come and rehearse for the performance, but you and Joshua had gotten there too early. Joshua was tuning his guitar and testing out some chords, scowling whenever he made a mistake.

“Okay, you’ve said that for the third time now. What’s wrong?” he asked, pausing his fingers to look at you.

You sighed, thinking that you might as well stop beating around the bush. “Seungcheol told me that you had stage fright. I didn’t know, and I would’ve never signed you up – ”

“It’s fine, really. I actually miss being on stage and playing guitar,” he smiled wistfully.

“Can I ask why you stopped performing then?” 

He set his guitar gently beside him and scratched the back of his neck. “I auditioned for the church choir that day, but they said that they had too many people auditioning so I didn’t make the cut. I told myself that I would only play accompaniment since I thought I wasn’t good enough, but then every time I made a mistake on stage, it made me feel like…like I wasn’t even good enough at guitar? So I stopped playing altogether.”

“Last year, you told me that it wasn’t about being bad or good, but about enjoying what you’re doing. Maybe you should take your own advice,” you smiled, leaning forward to place a hand on his shoulder. “Plus, whenever you sing, you give me goosebumps. Like Seokmin and Seungkwan are great, but your voice seeps into my bones.”

“Thank you,” he laughed, feeling a strange fluttering in his stomach at your words.

--

The audience roared as the dance team on stage bowed and filed off, Soonyoung high-fiving Seokmin and Seungkwan as he passed. You nudged Joshua excitedly, but when he didn’t respond, you looked to your side to see him standing unnaturally still, a hand gripped white on the neck of his guitar. You placed your own hand gently on his, running a thumb over his knuckles. “I’ll be right here,” you whispered, gesturing towards the awaiting stage. He nodded and walked out, swallowing as he took a seat and adjusted his microphone.

The first notes belted from the speakers and Joshua froze, staring at the sea of dark silhouettes as his fingers refused to move over the guitar strings. Panicking, he looked to the side of stage where he knew you stood, and saw you gesturing at him wildly. The familiarity of your image soothed him, and although he had no clue what you were doing, he felt a strange sense of courage wash over him as he began to strum.

After the performance ended, he practically ran off the stage to find you, his grin still large and bright. He was disappointed to find you missing among all of the other students who stood backstage, halfheartedly accepting the congratulations from his peers and friends.

“Joshua!” you yelled out, and he turned to see you running towards him with a bouquet of flowers. “Sorry, I had to run out so I could get you these,” you wheezed, thrusting the flowers in front of his face.

“Thank you so much,” he breathed out, bringing you into a tight embrace. “Thank you for giving me the courage to do something that I never would’ve done myself.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one that went out there and sang,” you laughed. 

“But you believed in me,” he said, so truthfully, so earnestly that you felt your heart beating faster. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, the corners of his mouth flicking upward into his familiar cat-like smile. Dark brown eyes roamed your face before settling on your lips, and time seemed to slow to a crawl when he cupped your cheek with his hand and dipped his head down to kiss you.

You were the one to break away, your lips warm and your head dizzy. Your hands withdrew from where they had automatically locked behind his neck, and you took a few steps backwards, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered before turning and running off.

The panic that the gentle boy had felt on stage had now returned tenfold, and its weight settled on his chest as he stood there, hand clenched around crumpled flowers.

4th year

“Can you believe that we’re graduating this year?” Byulyi asked as she stood in front of her closet full of flannel and button-down shirts, musing on what to wear for the day. 

“You’ve been asking that ever since we moved in,” you groaned. You shifted to face away from her and towards the wall that your bed was pushed against.

“Yes, and I’ll keep asking that until we graduate, and then the question will change to ‘Can you believe that we’ve graduated?” She nodded in approval and threw down a couple of blouses onto her bed. “You know, I’ve never seen you this down since your ‘undecided major, only had one friend’ days. What’s up?”

You turned and mustered up your best glare before sighing dejectedly. “One, that was a little rude. Two, nothing’s up. Everything’s just fine and dandy.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. When you and Joshua became friends, you’ve been uphill ever since. I’m guessing that something happened, and now you won’t talk to him again, which is really weird considering how you’re usually so….forward.”

You cursed Byulyi’s uncanny sense of perception. “Well, not when it’s my feelings on the line,” you muttered, causing your roommate to roll her eyes at your childishness. “He kissed me, I freaked out, and I haven’t talked to him since. He hasn’t reached out to me, for the record, so it’s not like he cares either.”

“Is that it?” Byulyi asked incredulously. “Even strangers can tell that that kid has had a crush on you since sophomore year! We were placing bets on when you two would end up together. Hasn’t Jeonghan or Seungcheol reached out?”

“Well, they stopped talking to me too,” you muttered. “I don’t blame them. I don’t think I’m meant to have loving, supportive people around me. It’s only time that I’ve returned to my natural state,” you proclaimed dramatically, muffling yourself with your pillow.

“Whenever Yongsun and I fight, we always have to end up talking it out. You have to talk to him, or you’re going to regret it. Besides,” Byulyi said, pulling the pillow away from your face with a disgusted look, “You’re an adult, you need to act like one.” She brought the pillow down onto your torso with a loud whack and sauntered out of the room, ignoring your yelps in protest.

--

For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel excitement or content when you stood in front of Joshua’s door.

You were scared.

Did he hate you now? Would he still want to be friends? It was your basest, most primal instinct to avoid the chocolate-eyed boy – after all, there was only a year left to graduation, and the campus was big enough. You could skip over all the messy emotions of humiliation and embarrassment and escape to a new place where you could start over again, a place without half-moon eyes and a cat-like smile haunting your every step. But you knew that Byulyi was right – you would only exchange the absence of those feelings with regret and unanswered ‘what if’s.

You kissed him back, a nagging voice repeated in your head, and you couldn’t even deny that truth. Byulyi and his friends might have thought that you simply didn’t return poor Joshua’s feelings and subsequently reacted in the most childish way possible, but the fact was that you liked Joshua. The fact was that the intense happiness that you felt whenever you thought about him frightened you.

The fact was that you were in love with him.

But you didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve his bright smile. You didn’t deserve his soothing voice or his calloused hands. You didn’t deserve his bad jokes, his sage advice, or his quiet and unwavering support. You didn’t deserve his forgiveness, and most of all, you didn’t deserve his love.

Throughout your entire friendship, he gave and gave and you took and took. You had sat there, waiting for friends, waiting for a path in life, and now, waiting for love. Joshua was the one who gave you everything that you idly waited for, even thought that you were entitled to at times, but what would happen if you took too much from him?

It was your turn to stop waiting.

This realization made you gasp, and you had decided to knock when his door swung open. There he stood, tan and glowing from the summer, and you almost smiled at the confirmation that he looked so much better without you.

Joshua mistook the look in your eyes for panic and wrapped his arms around your frozen frame, your arms crushed between your torsos. “Not this time,” he muttered, and you almost began to tremble at how softly he was brushing his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you struggled to get out. You could feel the tell-tale pressure in your nose and the burning in your eyes and as much as you tried to restrain yourself, you began to cry into his chest, his sweater warm and soft against your cheek.

He had moved you away from the doorway and to his bed, thankful that his roommates weren’t home so that you could cry as much as you wanted. He kept an arm around you until your breathing evened out. “I should have approached you first,” you sniffled, “but I was so scared because you’re just a better person and you’ve given me everything while I’ve given you absolutely nothing.”

“You give me so much courage, Y/N,” he softly replied. “To perform on stage, or to say hi to strangers. You make me want to be a better person, and not only for you, but for me, too. There’s no bad or good in life – ”

“—but what matters is what you like doing,” you finished. 

“And I enjoy being around you,” he smiled.

This time, you were the one who cupped his cheek, bringing his lips down to meet yours in an inexplicably familiar way, as if you had committed your first kiss to memory. You closed your eyes and you could smell the cologne that you had bought him for his birthday last year, you could feel his smile as his hands pulled you onto his lap, heavy breaths fanning against your cheek and fingers leaving hot trails on your waistline. You were so preoccupied with each other that you both missed the lock turning, and it took an exaggerated cough to pull you out of the haze that was Joshua.

“Who apologized first?” Jeonghan asked shamelessly, grinning as Seungcheol elbowed him.

You raised your hand shyly and Jeonghan let out a victory whoop. He held out a hand to Seungcheol who slapped a five-dollar bill into it. “This is so not fair, you totally cheated!”

“What are you talking about? I just know our dear Y/N very well,” he winked.

“No, you told us not to meddle. We always meddle,” Seungcheol emphasized, “And if we did, they would’ve been making out a long time ago!”

You felt a hand tighten around your waist and you turned to see the usually unfazed boy next to you turn scarlet red, even staining the tips of his ears. 

Although he was still pouting, Seungcheol got the message and pulled Jeonghan towards the door. “Well, we’ll leave you two lovebirds to catch up on lost time,” he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Clean up after yourselves!” Jeonghan called behind him. “If you need us, we’ll be in your room. I have to collect money from your roommate.”

After the door shut closed behind them, you got off Joshua’s lap and lied down on his bed, a hand covering your eyes. “Your friends are so gross.”

You felt him settle next to you, and you turned towards him, resting your head on his chest and letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep. “I love you, Y/N,” you heard him whisper, as if a proclamation to himself more than you.

“I love you too,” you whispered, without waiting, unwaveringly confident that at the very least, you could give him your love in return.

[dawnover-dusk]

Congrats!! Could i have a Minghao + lazy day fluff?

ya’ll really like this kid! sorry that this took a turn

You felt the person beside you shift and you hid a smile behind the book that you were reading. “Good morning,” a raspy voice greeted you, and you looked down to meet his warm brown eyes and his sleepy smile. He pulled himself closer to you by wrapping a toned arm around your lap, only stopping when his head was comfortably nuzzled on your thighs.

“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty,” you corrected with a giggle, your hand automatically finding its perch in his soft hair. You placed the book down on the nightstand and pulled the covers off of you, ignoring the man’s groans. “Minghao, you don’t have to get up, but I have a surprise for you and you’re going to ruin it.” You softly pushed his head off of your lap and scurried to the kitchen where several bags of his favorite takeout food sat.

“Surprise!” you cheered, setting down the food at a small table in your shared bedroom. You watched as Minghao’s eyes widened in glee. “I got delivery this morning! You haven’t had a full day off in so long, so I figured that we could just stay in bed and eat and watch TV or something.”

“That sounds…really great, but didn’t you want me to come shopping with you?” You waved off his uncertainty and climbed back into the bed, settling into his awaiting arms.

“The mall will always be there, and we can do some online shopping. Besides,” you grinned, angling your head upward to press a kiss to his jaw, “we have an entire day, alone, in this bedroom.” Your voice deepened to a purr, fingers trailing up and down his chest over the fabric of his thin tank top. “Don’t you think that there are better things to do?” Minghao swallowed and nodded, waiting for you to make your move. “Just do me one favor, okay?” you asked innocently, breathy and soft, your hand nearing the waistband of his boxers.

“Anything,” he blurted out immediately, cursing how easily you could affect him.

“The scallion pancakes are mine,” you whispered into his ear before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You happily got up to claim your prize, leaving him frustrated in more ways than one.

[dawnover-dusk]

Hellooooo!! Congrats on gaining 150 followers!!! 🎊🎊🎊 Can you do a Seungcheol + college sweetheart AU pls~~ Thank you~~ 💖

sorry that this took so long!! thank you, this was fun to write

Choi Seungcheol had a résumé that read like a small-town legend: football scholarship, fraternity president, board of trustees, a business major with a government minor who still managed to keep his 4.0 GPA.

He was competitive and commanded respect, a born leader with a handsome face and a razor-cut jaw that could inspire awe (and fear) in anyone. He was the pride of his town, the pride of his parents, the pride of the entire university, even, and no one would be surprised if he made a name for himself after graduation.

What would be a surprise, however, was how he was sitting in a grassy field with his brow furrowed, thick fingers clumsily braiding the long stems of white daisies together into a chain.

“If the world could see you now, Cheollie,” you laughed. You propped yourself up on the picnic blanket to take a sip of the ice-cold soda next to you, a perfect reprieve from the afternoon sun. You lowered your sunglasses to watch him for a few moments before fully sitting up and placing your hand over his. “I was really just joking about the daisy crown, babe. You’re sweet though,” you cooed, and he slapped your hand away to continue his determined braiding.

“No, you said you wanted a flower crown, so I’m making a flower crown.” He stopped his handiwork to reread the online tutorial that he had pulled up on his phone. “I think I’m almost done.” He proudly gestured to the long string of flowers before him and connected the two ends together to form a ring, threading the loose ends of the stems into a secure knot. “A beautiful crown for a beautiful princess,” he bowed, grinning goofily.

“I would be honored,” you mimicked, bowing your head as lady-like as you could. He placed the crown upon your head and beamed at you, one hand brushing loose hair behind your ear before leaning forward to steal a quick kiss.

“Let me take a picture,” he said, and you smiled while he focused on you with his phone. “Ugh, how am I with someone who is so pretty? Now I can see this every time I unlock my phone.”

“Okay, greaseball,” you snorted. “Let’s do your math problem set now.” You turned to lie on your stomach and he followed beside you, pausing to quickly throw an arm around you and give your waist a squeeze before grabbing his calculator and getting to work.

Choi Seungcheol was the campus golden boy, but to you, he was just Cheollie, a stubborn dork who made bad jokes and who loved you with all of his heart.

[dawnover-dusk]

dk + stargazing!au

You only saw him at night.

That was the one rule that you came to accept. When the sun rose, Dokyeom belonged to the world of bright LCD screens and flashy pyrotechnics, the world of adoring screams and bass lines that echoed the thumps of your own heart. But when the sky became stained with pinks and reds, he was simply Lee Seokmin, the boy in an oversized hoodie who was currently pulling you away from the lampposts and into the dark.

Your hand gripped his tighter as the lights of the park faded into the distance, and you became all too aware of the darkness which pressed up against you, almost suffocating you. Seokmin had come to a stop and with an excited whisper of “Look up!”, the clawing fear in the pit of your stomach evaporated at the abstract splatter of white against a midnight blue canvas.

In your awe, you didn’t notice that Seokmin had let go of your hand, and you jumped when you felt something tap against your legs. “Sorry,” he laughed, “lie down with me!”

With your back pressed firmly against the slightly damp grass and your vision filled with the night sky, you began to grow more relaxed, your senses keen on grounding you to reality. You could feel Seokmin’s arm pressed up beside yours, his warm fingers slowly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. You could hear his soft breathing, steady and strong, and for a boy who talked in his sleep, he remained quiet.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and he inhaled sharply, as if your words broke him out of his own musings.

“I used to come out here, sometimes alone, sometimes with the other members, and we would wish for success,” he began, fondness and nostalgia seeping into his speech. “But now, I’m wishing that we can stay like this.”

Although you couldn’t see him, you knew that he was grinning that same grin which wrinkled the corners of his eyes with the ferocity of joy that it exuded. You couldn’t see him, but you still felt the happiness from that smile spreading warmth into your heart.

You only saw Lee Seokmin at night, but he was all the light that you needed. 

[dawnover-dusk]

Cannn I get a Minghao soulmate Au please??

red string of fate

Minghao had made a promise to himself that he would never meddle.

Of course, that promise wasn’t completely unfounded. Ever since he could talk and began asking about the red string which tied his parents together, he was only met with confused looks and laughs about his “rich imagination.” When he finally learned to walk, he would stumble out of the way of the glimmering red strings tied around the fingers of strangers, and his parents wrote it off as a toddler…well, toddling, of course.

So, through years of trial and error, he learned that no, these strings weren’t tangible, and yes, he was the only one that could see them. Except his own, of course. Funny how these things work.

And the promise about meddling? Well, that was another lesson learned the hard way – trying to break up his love-struck best friend’s first relationship was admittedly not his brightest idea, especially when his only reason was that their red strings didn’t lead to one another.

When he saw you for the first time in a workshop held by the university’s hip hop dance crew, he tried to recall those feelings of hurt and sadness because for the first time, he couldn’t see the red string.

You didn’t have one.

What could it mean? Even when people lost their soulmates, their strings would simply grow dim and frayed, not disappear. Since he couldn’t see his own string either, could you perhaps see them as well?

Throwing caution to the wind, he approached you, but it would be a year later and six months after you first asked him out when he finally mustered up the courage to ask about the legends surrounding the red string of fate.

“I see them too,” you admitted coolly.

Any excitement that Minghao felt upon this admission was quickly crushed by the torrent of questions exploding in his head. You knew him long enough to know that he was trying to mask his growing sense of unease, and you slid your hand down his forearm and into his hand in a silent gesture of solidarity.

“Maybe this is the trade-off,” he finally said, a half-question and half-statement. “We see everyone’s fates, their destinies, but not our own.”

You remember the first time you saw him, the duality that existed between the steely-eyed performer with infinite charm and the quiet boy full of thoughts and doubts who now stood before you. “What are you afraid of?”

He looked at you, his weary smile almost a grimace on his usually bubbly face. “That we’re not meant to be together.”

“Do you think we’re right together?” you ask, your hand slowly withdrawing from his, playing with the infinity ring on your left pinky finger. He quickly captured your hand again to intertwine his fingers with yours, nodding “yes” without hesitation. “Then maybe we were given the chance to create our own fates.”

He smiled, a true smile, and wrapped his long arms around your shoulders. “I would love nothing more than to do that with you.”

[dawnover-dusk]

seungkwan soulmate!au please. thank you!!

where you can see your soulmate in reflective surfaces if they’re looking at one at the same time

“I thought we were going to watch another movie,” you whined, trying to make out your friends in the dim living room of your shared house. You nudged the closest girl sitting on the floor with your foot, and Eunwoo yelped in surprise before smacking your leg in protest.

“Nayoung said she saw her soulmate a week ago, so we’re going to find ours too,” Kyulkyung whispered conspiratorially, Eunwoo nodding resolutely beside her.

“So you two are just going to stare at mirrors the entire night on the off-chance that your soulmate looks back?” The other two girls pointedly ignored your sarcastic question, and you groaned as you stood up from your position on the sofa. It was nearing 1AM anyway, and your other housemates had decided to sleep after the scheduled weekly house movie marathon. You figured that you might as well retire for the night too, and leave Kyulkyung and Eunwoo to their silly, but admittedly dedicated, plan.

You looked up at your reflection in the bathroom mirror after brushing your teeth, patting your face dry with a small towel. Suddenly, a foggy image of a person appeared, and you could barely make out the “SVT” print on a bright t-shirt. Long fingers clipped back white gold hair which framed what you assumed to be a face…

If a face only had eyes and lips, that is.

You tore your gaze away from the mirror and bolted out of the bathroom, your mind torn between not waking up your sleeping housemates with a scream and panicking because oh my gosh, was that a ghost? Were you going to die?

But wait, what kind of ghost would be in SVT, your college’s very own secret honor society?

Just as your heart was beginning to calm down, rapid knocks on your front door resounded through the first floor, and you rounded the corner to see Eunwoo cautiously peering through the peephole.

“Why is Boo Seungkwan knocking on our door at 1AM?” she hissed at you and Kyulkyung, who only stared back at her wide-eyed and confused. You shrugged your shoulders as she opened the door to reveal the breathless boy from your poetry class, fringe clipped out of the way and in a bright, “SVT” printed t-shirt.

Neither of you said a word until Eunwoo rolled her eyes and cleared her throat rather loudly. “Sorry for scaring you,” Seungkwan managed to stutter out, and you flushed when you realized that he had confirmed your suspicions. “I had a sheet mask on and…this wasn’t the best first impression to make as your soulmate, huh?” he laughed nervously.

You threw an arm around his shoulders mirthfully, bringing him into a loose hug. “Seungkwan, I’m just glad that my soulmate isn’t going to haunt me or something,” you joked. “Since you’ve come all this way, do you want to do sheet masks together?” Your hand subconsciously found his, your fingers intertwining together as you led him towards your room.

Eunwoo and Kyulkyung stared after the pair of you incredulously, returning to the living room and to their vanity mirrors with renewed determination.

[dawnover-dusk]

mingyu and buying a puppy please and thank you!!!!!! congrats :)

thanks anon! 💖

Your hand reflexively found Mingyu’s upper arm upon entering the “Orphaned Dogs” room of the adoption center, and he looked at you with slight confusion as you stood, frozen, your eyes seemingly unfocused as a cacophony of excited barks bombarded the both of you. Were you too overwhelmed? Mingyu knew that you were never too warm to the idea of getting a puppy, but was it because you were actually…afraid of dogs? He had made up his mind to get you out of the room and into fresher air, his large hand enveloping the one still gripping his upper arm, until he heard a high-pitched squeal erupting from your parted lips.

“Mingyu, do you believe in love at first sight?”

All too quickly, your grip on his arm had released and you were on the ground, cooing at a fluffy golden retriever mix who had bounded up to you curiously, her steps still a bit uncoordinated and wobbly. Without hesitation, you brought the pup into your lap, fingers scratching her warm belly as you looked up at your boyfriend with glimmering eyes.

He looked at you, a bit dumbfounded, before sitting next to you and eyeing you suspiciously. He fought to keep his strange feeling of jealousy in check, but seriously, you looked happier and more in love than on the day that he had finally confessed to you! “And you said you didn’t want a dog,” he settled on saying.

“Well, yeah, because then I would have to take care of two pups,” you teased, reaching up to pat Mingyu’s cheek as he scowled. You scooped up the dog and placed her in his empty lap, and Mingyu couldn’t help the stars in his eyes when she began to softly nibble on his fingertips. You stood up with renewed vigor. “Okay, let’s go become the dog parents that we were always destined to be.”

extra:

“Just promise me that we won’t become one of those pet owners,” he laughed, bumping his hip lightly into yours. You shot him a ‘well, duh’ look.

A week later, Mingyu was steering you out of the dog stroller section of the pet store.

[dawnover-dusk]

Hoshi + the end of the world

Soonyoung had a bad feeling when he found out that your research team’s first experiments on mammalian influenza transmissibility had failed spectacularly. He couldn’t fathom what had gone so wrong to warrant such a swift and authoritarian response because there he stood, in the same government-sponsored biomedical engineering facility, innocently conducting research on embryonic development in chickens.

Through his incessant prodding and puppy-dog eyes, you told him that you may have created a new, highly pathogenic strain of influenza. “They were afraid that it could ‘fall into the wrong hands’,” you snorted derisively, “but how could any scientist be so unethical?”

Famous last words.

Sometimes, you would scold Soonyoung for not following protocol, like playing popular dance songs in his lab or naming all his lab animals, leaving you to think that he was way too soft-hearted and playful for this line of work.

But perhaps you were the one who was too trusting, and Soonyoung’s lighthearted demeanor was all a façade. A few days later, you found the genetic sequence to your accidental flu strain ripped from your lab manual, and a few months later, news broke out about flu epidemics and connections to bioterrorism with its source traced back to a scientist in your group who had sold the virus to the highest bidder.

In the midst of failing treatments and rising death counts, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. As curiosity and worry got the better of you, and justifying it as him telling you that the code was your birthday anyway, you unlocked his lab bench drawer to find your missing, torn-out manual page, a bunch of test tubes, and one loaded syringe.

You hid the syringe in your pocket and locked the drawer up when Soonyoung entered the lab, his eyes widening like a deer in headlights.

“I was working overtime?” he tried, and he knew he couldn’t lie to you when your face contorted in disbelief. “Okay, I have a prototype vaccination for the pandemic, but I need more time for the antiviral meds!” he admitted. He grinned sheepishly, his smile not reaching his eyes, and continued, “I may have…taken a page from your manual a while ago…”

“Why are you withholding the vaccine?” you hissed, choosing to let the theft confession slide.

“They’re going to take away my work once they find out, and then they’ll just focus on getting the vaccinations out. There’s no time to synthesize and then mass-produce a 2-week long course of antiviral therapy drug—everyone that’s sick already is going to die.”

“You’re…such an idiot, Soonyoung. A kindhearted idiot,” you mumbled, throwing your arms around his torso. “At least tell me you took the vaccine.”

“No,” he protested, sounding slightly scandalized as his cheek pressed against the top of your head. “If anything, I’d let you have it first.”

Your hand withdrew into your pocket and uncapped the syringe with your thumb. You felt Soonyoung begin to pull away and before you could fully consider the consequences of your actions, your hand shot out to plunge the needle deep into his upper arm.

“Be selfish for once, Soonyoung,” you whispered as you withdrew, letting the now empty syringe crash onto the floor.

[dawnover-dusk]

Magical!SVT: Hoshi

lol 420 blaze it. for @dumbbelle my beautiful friend

of course, our kwon fire is more inclined towards fire magic

he’s from an old family of magicians and they were all elemental so it was always

‘which element will our little soonyoung master??’

the kwons got their answer when hoshi almost burnt down the family farm

mom ran outside to find her 5 year old son sobbing and cradling the chickens

‘BUT I JUST WANTED COCO TO BE WARM’

dad decided to make an ill-timed joke about having chicken for dinner. mom was not amused

when hoshi turned 15, he enrolled in the boarding school for magicians called ‘The Academy’

it was supposed to be all ominous sounding but nah magicians aren’t that creative

he quickly made friends but he isn’t…the best. student

he works really hard of course but none of the theory came to him naturally

lots of one-on-one tutoring sessions with model student!joshua

didn’t help that the Academy was basically a walled building on the outskirts of a town

and the town was so much more interesting?

like the mid-autumn festival and the loud percussion he would hear from his bedroom window when he was supposed to be studying 

junior magicians weren’t allowed to go into the town 

the #1 rule was no f.u.n pretty much

one night he’s just like,,,yolo and sneaks out. light magic!dino wakes up but makes hoshi get him some street food before rolling over and going back to bed

the festival is ending and the last night involves this big party that just goes on and on

hoshi finds a hole that was never patched up from when this random girl dug her way into the compound and crawls through

and for the first time he feels so….free? breathing in the night air, feeling the bass lines vibrate through his body

there’s a little wooden stage constructed for the festival in the middle of the town square and he pushes his way through the crowd gathered around it

and there he sees something so magical that he can’t believe that it’s not. it’s non-magical

you’re there performing with your dance team and the live band behind you

he’s looking up at you with such wonder and joy

you catch his eye and you almost forget your next steps because of how wide-eyed he is? like has this boy never seen someone dance…pls stop staring you’re getting self-conscious

never mind that there’s a freaking crowd around you….and there’s a lot more eyes than his staring y’know?

probably because he’s really cute too ok lol

by this point the music is reaching a crescendo but nope. you’ve forgotten what you’re supposed to be doing 

so like any entertainer you’re just like...time for AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION also time for winging it but no one will ever know

and you pretty much drag hoshi up on stage 

he freezes but after some really frantic facial and body language communication that you do, he starts to feel the beat and dance along 

and surprise! winging it worked! because hoshi, although not the best magician, is FIRE on the dance floor

like to the point where you want to kick him off because hello you’ve practiced way too long for this stage ya feel

after your team’s performance ended, you and hoshi are on an after-performance high

you find out that he’s from the Academy and of course you’re just like

“can you do any tricks??”

but he gets a bit uncomfortable so you lay off and spend the rest of the night running around to all the street vendors

he remembers to snag dino a really loaded up hot dog and you end up walking with him back to the Academy

the lights and noise fade out into the background and the darkness swallows the two of you

and he’s like. oh shit. i have to go back to this world of stuffiness and academia and ughhh 

you, on the other hand, are looking up at the wall in the same wonder that hoshi had in his eyes while you were dancing

he notices it 

‘canyoucomebacksometime?’ he asks, all in one breath

you’re a bit confused but he goes on

‘you asked about tricks, right? i can show them to you!’

your face lights up and you nod

‘that would be so cool’ you exclaim

‘can you teach me more dances though?’ you just nod because…why wouldn’t you he’s a cute magician

so every weekend you meet at the hole underneath the wall 

you sneak in and watch him and his friends practice their spells and potion making and he sneaks out to learn more about dancing and music with your team

one night he’s showing you a new idea that he had

he wants to incorporate fire into his dancing 

and while you watch him, you feel your heart flutter a bit 

he’s so passionate about what he’s creating and his friends say that he’s been a lot happier too, more than he has been at the Academy

but then a stray flame directs itself to your arm and you yelp as you feel it burn your skin

hoshi immediately runs to you but you flinch away. he backs off, hurt

you had covered the burned area of your forearm with your opposite hand in reflex but when you take it away to check, you yelp again with surprise

your skin is healing?? like this was not the biological process of healing that you learned in school?? what

you look at hoshi and he’s just like…i did not do that

your friend already has that guilty kicked puppy look but then he’s like…‘maybe you’re magical too???’

you want to scoff but then you think back about how you’ve had faster wound healing than a lot of kids 

that’s why your dance team makes you do a lot of the more difficult stunts lol

‘I mean I know you said that your family isn’t magical but…sometimes it just awakens in some people!’

he drags you back to the Academy but you refuse to talk to the Council or any of the teachers because it’s been like, half a year

you know by now that the Academy isn’t Hogwarts and you don’t really want to be trapped in there until you can control your magic or whatever

so seungcheol examines you instead and yup. you are a bonafide healing magic user. greeeeeat

you swear seungcheol to secrecy after some very creative threats and you and hoshi take a walk around the garden

‘I’m really sorry about earlier..’ he still feels so guilty omg

‘it’s ok, I guess I know now that I can fix you up whenever you do something stupid’

‘no but really!! I know I’m not the best student but it’s my second year here and I still can’t control the fire sometimes…’

you place a hand on his arm and try to look him in the eye. is he���.crying??? you’ve never seen him tear up before

you wrap your arms around his waist and he reflexively nuzzles his cheek against your head

‘I promise you that I’m going to try harder! and I won’t hurt you ever again’

you pull away a bit and stick out your pinky finger

‘ok but you also have to promise me that you’ll continue to use fire in your dances! it looked really cool it was lit’

you see him scrunch up his face really cutely and nod, hooking his pinky finger around yours

hoshi gets joshua to tutor you on the side just so you can do basic wound healing stuff on your own

a few years later he’s graduating from the Academy with his friends

you sort of sneak in through that same hole and the Council is like….ugh….another one? but they don’t throw you out because it’s supposed to be a happy day!

you throw flowers at him and he shoots finger guns at you all greasy-like and you’re like…gross…but also…his winking is really cute what is happening

at the end of the ceremony you run up and hug him and then, like the night that you met him, you were going to wing it

you kiss him really quickly on the lips. just a peck. but he freezes up and you’re like lol gotta blast

to no one’s surprise, he decides that he wants to be an entertainer and pretty much joins your dance team

at first your team is like….uh….did he even try out? what 

and then they get super confused because IS THAT FIRE? minghao, one of the choreographers, is lowkey living for it tho

but you’re like ‘it’s ok guys I got you’ and it was just. a day of revelations for your poor team. but after a while they’re ok with it because hoshi pretty much becomes the star and you rake in so much in ticket sales that you guys get to travel too

in some swanky hotel room overseas, he comes up behind you and tickles your sides and you turn around to tell him off

but then he grabs your shoulders and gives you your first. proper kiss together 

when he pulls back you’re like. oh. oh. oh.

*oh by snsd starts playing*

‘that’s how it should be done’ he smiles at you

and nope. now you’re back to telling him off lol 

[dawnover-dusk]

s.coups // i. the magician ;;

genre: magician!AU, fluff

word count: 1,181

summary: you are a non-magical with a sales pitch

series: tarot cards

When you had emerged from the crudely dug hole underneath the stone walls surrounding The Academy, heart pounding and covered in dirt, the worst scenario that you had anticipated was being caught by one of the magicians who practiced within the compound. Perhaps the magician would consequently kick you out, or punish you by making you clean up the messes that the junior magicians undoubtedly made…and then kick you out.  However, no one seemed to notice that you had been out there for weeks tunneling underneath the stone wall, and even if you were discovered, you figured that you could just sneak back in. Who could blame you, anyways? As a non-magical, you were curious as to what the magicians were doing that required what was practically a fortress – if it was only brewing the standard love potions that were peddled at the local market, they wouldn’t need so much security, right?

What you didn’t anticipate, however, was being caught by a magician because you were being attacked by a goddamn monkey.

You landed flat on your rear only a few yards away from your entry point, your arms flailing in a desperate attempt to wrestle the squealing primate off of your chest. You could vaguely hear the low sound of laughter nearby, and a brief spike of anger surged in you before the weight on your chest disappeared after a sharp whistle cut through the air. From your position on the ground, you scowled as you warily eyed the ball of fur which had leapt up onto a young man’s shoulders.

“I’ve heard of attack dogs, but not attack monkeys,” you gritted out, pointedly ignoring the magician’s outstretched hand and returning to your feet. He shrugged and scratched the monkey’s head. 

“I’m Seungcheol, and this is my companion, Coups,” he beamed.  

“So, Seungcheol…are you going to show me around, or are you going to kick me out?” 

Coups trilled noisily on Seungcheol’s shoulder, as if in vehement protest, but the man’s face was a lot more pensive. “Well, the Council says that non-magicals have to be removed, but honestly, it’s really boring here anyway. I wouldn’t even know what to show you, and I’ve been here my entire life.” 

Your eyes widened slightly while a plan rapidly materialized in your head. “Well, Seungcheol, have I got a deal for you! If you give me a tour, we can take a trip to the town via my luxurious tunnel system, and I can show you around!” Seungcheol almost scoffed at the too-bright tone that your voice had taken – it reminded him of the loud door-to-door salespeople who shamelessly delivered their pitches to the guards at the gate before they were silenced by sound-proof bubbles which carried them back towards the town. However, he couldn’t disguise the excitement at the thought of finally leaving the walls of The Academy. 

“Okay,” he agreed, and this time, you clasped his outstretched hand in a firm handshake. You could have sworn that Coups had palmed his face in disappointment at his master’s actions, but the monkey would get used to your company soon enough.

In fact, two years later, you were freely traversing the halls of The Academy and shaking your head at the familiar sounds of glass beakers breaking along with strings of curses. The Council had caught on pretty quickly, and since Seungcheol couldn’t keep secrets for that long, you had found yourself in a lengthy lecture about safety and societal norms while they flashed floating images of the pair of you that they had taken as evidence. They finally dismissed you with a groan when you tried to pitch how they could use their magic to speed up the town’s court cases (“you would save us years of legal proceedings with those powers,” you said with an eyebrow wiggle), and they left you alone when they begrudgingly admitted that Seungcheol was a lot more motivated in his studies with you around.

Well, they didn’t have to know why Seungcheol wasn’t motivated in the first place, before you became a source of support.

He was scared. 

After the official Coming of Age ceremony, where junior magicians were allowed to finally practice magic independently, the Council held a private meeting with Seungcheol. They explained why he wasn’t allowed to leave the compound – he had the potential to master all types of elemental magic, while most magicians only specialized in one or two. Such powers were dangerous if uncontrolled, and records of the few magicians who had this ability all ended in ruin – one hurt a loved one, another tried to vie for power, unfortunate fates which haunted Seungcheol and bound him to self-imposed shackles of mediocrity.

But then he met you. 

You, with a bright face and a curious mind, a non-magical who could somehow weave magic into words. You had shown him simple, non-magical alternatives (Coups still blamed you for his pink fur after you explained how dyes worked) while pushing Seungcheol to learn more advanced techniques to control his magic, especially after he accidentally blasted a hole in the wall while trying to make your tunnel a bit larger. Even if he stopped using magic, this power was innately a part of him, a ticking bomb about to explode at any wrong move. All he could do was practice, to be better at controlling the wild energy inside of him. He had to protect everyone. He had to protect you. 

So when the Council had summoned him again, this time to request his help in protecting the town from invading bandits, he didn’t hesitate to agree.

This time, you were scared.

“Why’d they have to send you?” you complained, pouting as you watched Seungcheol ready himself to warp to the outskirts of town. Coups chittered in agreement on your shoulder, and you gave his head a little scratch, noticing that the pink dye was finally fading.

“Well, I am the most powerful magician at The Academy,” he joked. His face grew more serious when he realized that you weren’t laughing, and he placed his hands gently on your arms. “It’ll be fine. After all, you’re the one who’s seen all my training and progress, right? So this will be easy…just a bit of landscaping so they’ll pass by without noticing our home.”

“I wish I could help you,” you sighed out, your spark fizzling out.

He tapped your nose with a smile. “You don’t know how much you already have. For a non-magical, you’re more of a magician than me.” 

You furrowed your brow in slight confusion while he pecked your forehead quickly before breaking out into a sprint away from you. Before you could yell at him, there was a familiar pop as he was replaced by white smoke and light.

“Well, Coups,” you said as you turned your head to face the monkey on your shoulder, “we should do something so he has a surprise when he gets back. How do you feel about the color red?” 

The monkey immediately bounded off your shoulder and, like his master, sprinted away.

i. the magician: use full potential, don’t hold back, cultivate creativity and self-confidence to control your surroundings + make things happen