#I personally swear a decent amount but as a teacher I have to do a lot of mitigation

[reneesbooks]

Happy STS! Do your characters swear? How often? Why or why not?

hello love ❤️

Maura: swearing is unbecoming of a queen. she never swears but has been known to drop the occasional choice word at certain moments

Keelan: doesn’t really swear but doesn’t think about it much. swears more as he gets older and more worn out but still mainly saves it for the special occasions

Birdie: legally cannot say fuck

Jack: was raised on the streets and will cuss you out as a form of greeting

Arthur: was raised by nuns and very rarely swears. Jack is keeping a tally

Vonnie: insists that she doesn’t swear, only “seasons her language well”. will also cuss you out as a form of greeting

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Town Ghosts

Ok, so this is inspired by this post.

Danny almost lost his balance as he turned on Casper High’s street corner. Catching himself in the nick of time, he resumed his uncontrolled dash down the streets of Amity and finally made it to his locker just in time for the first bell to ring. As he looked up from his locker and noticed how sparsely populated the halls were, Danny frowned. First bell indicated they had 5 minutes before the actual beginning of class, and usually that meant a decent amount of stragglers were still chilling around.

“Damn it, do we have an exam?” Danny mumbled as he took out his phone to text Sam and Tucker.

Wheres everyone? He sent

Assembly, came the answer from Tucker to which Sam added, We saved u a seat

Danny didn’t bother answering and instead quickly gathered his things from his locker before hurrying down to the assembly hall. Everyone was talking which meant he wasn’t late, and he managed to catch Tucker waving him over. Danny maneuvered his way to his friends before sagging into the promised saved seat.

“I swear, if Boxy wakes me up at 2am again to rave about packing peanuts one more time I will put him in Soup Time for a month.”

Sam winced. “Rough night, huh?”

Tucker patted his shoulder in commiseration.

Danny closed his eyes. “At least tell me assembly is taking Lancer’s period?”

“We still have half of it afterwards,” Tucker answered.

Before Danny could groan, the teachers started shushing the crowd. As he looked up to the shoddy stage, Danny could see a blonde woman wearing all black.

“Nice boots,” Sam whispered.

“Hello everyone,” started the woman on stage. “My name is Black Canary, you may know me as a member of the Justice League.”

At that Danny sat up straight, suddenly way more aware. Simultaneously, a wave of whispers started amongst the crowd which was quelled by the numerous teachers shushing everyone. Once silence had been more or less reestablished, Black Canary started again.

“I am here as a spokesperson in our efforts to raise awareness about discriminations against meta humans. This initiative started as a personal project of a lot of the founding members of the Justice League. Did you know that recent studies that show that violence against meta humans is disproportionately more frequent than violence against baseline humans? In fact-”

And one she continued for the next half hour, after which she had some students distribute some pamphlets with different phone numbers on them. There was a little more time dedicated to a few exercises and a video of a testimony from a former meta human criminal. As the presentation progressed, Danny started relaxing more and more, to the point that he was half asleep when time for questions was announced.

“What about ghosts?” Paulina’s voice came through the mic the teachers had passed around, “Are they covered by all those fancy laws you mentioned?”

And yep, Danny was fully back to being awake now.

“Ghosts?” repeated Black Canary, in an even tone but before Paulina could answer, another voice cut through the room.

“Ghosts aren’t people, Paulina.” Valerie’s voice came through sharp and clear.

Paulina’s eyes narrowed in on her former friend. “Says who?”

“Says science!” Valerie exclaimed. “Though I shouldn’t expect a Phantom groupie to understand that.”

“You’re just jealous.” Paulina flicked her hair dismissively.

Danny sank into his seat as he tried to block out the very public argument happening in front of him. Black Canary seemed to be observing the exchange with curiosity, while the teachers were trying to reach Paulina to get the mic out of her hand. There were a few students with their phones out, filming the whole debate and Danny would bet it would be on the school forum by the end of the day, probably sparking yet another Phantom debate.

Just then, as if it wasn’t enough, Danny could feel his ghost sense activating. As he turned his head, he caught a green shimmer at the edge of his vision zooming past the window.

“Come on,” he mumbled. “Gimme a break.”

“Do you want backup?” Sam asked.

“I got it,” Danny grumbled. “Cover me.”

“For sure, dude,” Tucker answered.

Danny stood up and shimmied his way down the rows of chairs to a teacher with Paulina and Valerie still arguing in the background. When Danny reached the nearest teacher he asked for leave to go to the bathroom and by was granted it after which a teacher finally managed to get the microphone away from Paulina. As Danny walked out of the room, he could hear Black Canary’s fading voice asking a question as he got further and further away.

“What do you mean by 'ghosts'?”

[awriterinthenight]

"I Think You Look Good in Purple"-George Weasley

requested: anonymous

words: 1054

warnings: a prank, a small argument, reader legit hates life, a decent amount of swearing, not my best work, I wrote this last night, then finished it today cause I was tired last night, so its a bit disjointed I think, idk enjoy though

summary: When one of the Weasley pranks doesn't go as planned and they end up pranking the one Slytherin they like, especially George, George regrets.

Not all Slytherins were horrible, and you proved that. You were kind to first years, befriended muggle-borns, and were just a good person in general. When the twins pranked Slytherin they made sure to keep you out of it as best as possible. Since you weren't an asshole like the others, and also because George Weasley might've had a small crush on you.

The Weasley twins' latest prank didn't go exactly as planned. Their idea was to put a potion in some of the goblets, so that when the people drank it their hair would change to weird colours. They would only put it in some, so that way there would be more chaos when people would point fingers at those whose hair didn't change. The twins made sure to not put the potion in your general area so that you didn't end up with colored hair for weeks.

The only thing the twins didn't account for was you not sitting in your usual spot. So when suddenly during dinner half of the Slytherins turned every colour of the rainbow, and it included you, the twins knew you weren't going to be happy.

Your day was already really shitty so the sudden change in hair colour was unappreciated. The second you say the twins leave the Great Hall you immediately follow after them.

"This was you two, wasn't it," you said fuming, as the two stopped and turned to look at you.

Fred let out a small chuckle, while George stayed rather quiet, "It's just a simple prank. Besides, it'll come out in a couple weeks," Fred said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, which to him it was.

You were still annoyed by the two and their stupidity, "Do you two ever stop and think before you do something stupid," you yelled at them, "Matter of fact do you ever think." You didn't even let them respond before you stormed away, furious as the two redheads.

Fred seemed confused by why she was so angry, "Merlin, who spat in her pumpkin juice."

George finally spoke up, "Well we did technically spike her pumpkin juice. She's just angry at us, just give it some time and hopefully she'll be less angry," he defended, feeling bad for what he did.

The two left it at that and continued on with their day. You on the other hand were having the worst time ever. You had just practically bombed a potions test since who the fuck has all the ingredients for polyjuice potion memorized off the top of their head. Your friend had cancelled on your Hogsmeade trip the upcoming weekend, since their date was more important than the trip you had planned for two weeks, and now to make everything worse, you were stuck with purple hair for weeks.

You were hoping that maybe your luck would be better as your week went on. Apparently you were way too optimistic. While you were the least hated Slytherin, some Gryffindors still hated you just for being a Slytherin, so they were mean to you, calling you things like 'grape-head' which was just stupid, but you know Gryffindors. Some of the muggle-borns called you 'Barney the Dinosaur' behind your back, which you had to admit was a bit funny.

Even worse was that Snape had seemed to try to make you suffer even more by making you work on a potion all week while being partnered with Marcus Flint, who made you want to gouge out your eyes. School in general was also kicking your ass. It was as if every teacher forgot you had other classes. When you tried to get your work done in the library Peeves showed up, disorganizing every book.

By the end of the week you were ready to collapse. The worst was that almost no one noticed, except for your few close friends, but they didn't push much when you said you were fine. The only person to really notice was George Weasley.

He would try to make conversation with you, but you would ignore him, still angry from the dumb prank. He felt truly horrible, but you wouldn't give him the chance to apologise.

George waited outside your class so that he could try to finally apologise, "Hey, Y/N wait," he yelled out when you walked right by him. You continued to ignore him, being stubborn and not wanting to hear what he had to say, "Can you just hear me out for five minutes, please."

You stopped walking, finally giving into the little voice in your head telling you to stop being stubborn and talk to him, "Fine, one minute, make it quick."

"I'm so sorry for what happened. We didn't mean for it to affect you, I even tried to make sure it was nowhere near where you usually sat. I'm just really sorry, please don't hate me anymore," he explained, not wasting a second.

You had basically already forgiven him at this point, but the part about you hating him stuck out to him, "Hate you, why would I hate you?" you questioned him, since he could never make you hate him.

"I-I, umm..." George said stumbling, "I just, you seemed so angry I thought you hated me," he explained, a little bit quieter now.

You let out a breath, "I could never hate you George," you told him, fully meaning it, nothing could make you hate him, "I was just having a shitty day, and I've been having a lot recently."

A soft smile graced George's face at your words, "I'm glad you don't hate me, and I'm sorry about that. I noticed you didn't seem to be your friendly self as much, but maybe now that you don't hate me I can brighten up your day, and make it better," he joked, trying to make you smile, and being successful.

You shook your head at him, "Yeah, yeah, I'm still stuck with this purple hair, so you're not off the hook till it's gone," you said, crossing your arms.

"Well in my defence," George said, twisting a strand of your hair, "I think you look good in purple." You could feel your cheeks heat up and turn red. If you weren't already head over heels for George, you definitely were now. 

Current Taglist (ask to join, also this is for all fics and I write for a diverse amount of fandoms, just an fyi)

@almost-gabrielle @scarlett-8 @atashiboba @that1deerpersondownstairs

[sunny-speaks]

Smartass

Characters: Academic Rival! Ren @14dayswithyou x reader

Okay, but I have been an academic rivals to lovers stan for far too long, y’all don’t understand…

So like, this au would totally have redacted still the same as Canon! Redacted, he’d just be like… more open to the MC? And it’d be in an academic setting??? Like he developed some self-esteem solutions and got more confident in being himself, still having subtle mannerisms of character traits you enjoyed… but more him

Like… he went to therapy so he could be better for you before you even knew him, cause you said some bullshit like they were no good looking guys in the world who didn’t have therapy, cause there’s nothing hotter than a mentally stable guy. (i mean, you’re all here because you love a stable guy, right… ;] )

But yeah, now you just know him as that snarky ass, dark-haired with pink tips ‘genius’ in your university ‘psychology in modern media’ class.

Warnings and whatnot: lolol NSFW implications so minors DNI, a decent amount of swearing on my part, I'd say?

Another flawless assignment completed for you. Whoo! It was a nice day to be smart!

To be fair, you had pored over that goddamn presentation for hours before going to sleep, so if you hadn’t done well, you probably would’ve bust a pipe over some unlucky guy’s head.

You grinned seeing the big 95 on your paper. You spent so long detailing the moral complications between the character relationships as you gutted the root problems for each of the character flaws and how that showed in their bonds with others.

Unfortunately, you had the (dis)pleasure of being seated to [REDACTED], the class self-proclaimed genius. 

God, you hated him.

You were pretty sure you hated him more because he was so stupidly hot. You could clearly see his chiseled stone abs when he wore those clingy, black compression shirts! And paired with gray fucking sweatpants?

He knew what he was doing… And it was to mess up your game!

I mean, seriously, what was the lecturer doing, seating you next to this second coming of Michelangelo?! It’s almost like she had something personal against you!

(the lecturer was in fact, very for the both of you getting together. You both were smart, maybe you’d find a way to increase [REDACTED]’s grades…)

You never noticed him all that much in the beginning of the year. He brooded in his own corner, never noticed by anyone in those dumb black baggy hoodies.

But the minute he sat next to you, all of a sudden he realized he was hot stuff???

Okay, sure there, bro. He needed to chill out.

All of a sudden, he went from a lonely loser, to some hot genius within like the span of a day.

You didn’t get it.

But to be fair, you didn’t remember telling your good friend Moth how you started having things for hot but smart guys and guys who could actually stand a battle of wits… But that was for [REDACTED] to remember, and you to forget.

He leaned over your shoulder, a lazy smirk gracing his features. “95, not bad, angel.”

Agh! That stupid nickname! It was supposed to be something intimate, something reserved for lovers and such, but he insisted on using it to berate your grades!

He slid his paper over with a big 96 on it. “But not good enough.”

Of course. He had to have known that he was doing an in depth character analysis on the teachers favorite character and played to all the teachers preferences in the character and was spouting self-servient bullshit!

…But his presentation was well done, you had to admit. Normal people wouldn’t notice because you pay an unhealthy amount to any flaws in his looks, but he must’ve studied hard, he had huge eyebags during his presentation…

How would you know it’s because he thought your frustrated face was so cute when you kept thinking of ideas for your presentation that he completely forgot he had to impress the teacher to impress you?

Honestly, [REDACTED] cared more that he was on your mind in any way, even if that was because he acted like a ‘suck-up’ because he was too busy watching you.

“Hope you haven’t forgotten the many times I’ve beaten you academically, [REDACTED]. Or are you losing your memory because you’ve been sitting with a godsend this whole time? Sorry, didn’t mean for my heavenly powers to warp with your memory.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“Then, you’re sure living up to your title, angel.” He snorted and went back to looking towards the front before muttering something under his breath. “...But your presentation was good, dork.”

In shock at the compliment, you stood there with your mouth open.

He glanced back over at you, “What? Is it so hard to believe that you did well on our midterm presentation?” he huffed to himself in disbelief before a grin made its way to his face. “Sitting there with your mouth open? It’s like you want someone to kiss that dumb look off your face.”

He thought the comment would shake you out of your stupor, make you come back with a feisty comment.

But no, you sat there, thinking about all the implications of that statement. …What if he kissed you? But he has so many piercings… He has a tongue piercing, snakebites, honestly, your mouth would feel like a jewelry store with the amount of silver in it…

But he looked like a fuckboy, would he be good at kissing?

Wait, hold up, no, no, no. Dude, you gotta remember…

He was a loser up until now.

If that’s the way he’d been his whole life, he’s probably never even kis—

And if that realization wasn’t enough for you to drop your jaw, nothing ever would.

[REDACTED] could only stare at you in mild surprise as your mouth opened… even more. He slowly blinked at you, a mock-scandalized look on his face, “What, you really want someone to kiss you that bad? You volunteering to be kissed, angel?”

You immediately let go all thoughts of kissing that gorgeous jerk in favor of heat rising to your face, “Nope. I’m good.”

He pushed and prodded a little more, “What, you never kissed anyone before?” He actually wasn’t quite sure. The early years when he didn’t know how to hack anything and couldn’t follow you were blank spaces in your life to him.

You muttered a curse under your breath and turned away from him without denying his question.

Although you couldn’t see it, his whole face lit up with hope. Oh, he was going to be your first kiss! He couldn’t wait! He internallly coughed at his eagerness.

He had to court you first before the two of you could become anything.

He looked back at your lecturer who had been picking on students who had to read out full paragraphs of their analysis on a TV Show that followed the messy plot of a coming of age, romance drama.

And also, clearly, leaving the two of you alone. He hushedly whispered to you, “Wait, are you serious, angel?”

You grumbled into the palm of your hand before slowly turning to him, “unfortunately… yes. I haven’t kissed anyone yet. But turns out this university is full of jerks and dumbasses…”

You paused. Well, maybe not all jerks and dumbasses. “Guess there’s a couple guys in the music department that are cool.”

Murder flashed through [REDACTED]’s mind thinking of you asking them out before putting on a strained smile, “So where do I fit in, hm?”

“I dunno…” You hadn’t put too much thought towards [REDACTED]. Sure, he was hot. But he was kind of a prick.

But he did respect your gender identity…

And he never went too far, making sure he didn’t cross any lines or boundaries…

And he gave you that academic rival that you’d been search―

…Oh my god.

He was your academic rival.

You loved rivals to lovers… Was this a sign? You got a hot rival, who respects you, your boundaries, your intellect and he was hot?!

Okay, maybe you had dreamed about him on a couple of weird occasions, but dreams don’t mean anything!

Is what you would say if you were in denial.

Oh dear, did you like him?!

You gave him a quick once over, looking at all the piercings on his ears and face as your eyes trailed to his shirt which clung tightly to his skin, all defined abs and muscles on display.

Hold up! Were those body cutouts on his top around his hips that you saw?! Fuck, those were hot…

Your eyes trailed a little bit lower to his pants… and shit, he was packing… There was no way in hell he was allowed to be that big, in height and in… length.

Ugh, your thoughts made you shudder a little. No way you were thirsting over a guy you were just fighting.

…But it wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for sure…

Okay, so maybe you had not-so-subtly eyed your seatmate like he was a piece of meat.

But he enjoyed the attention! He loved you drinking him up like he was just a pretty thing. But he was your pretty thing… Some random girls keep trying to ask him out, but he doesn’t want them. He wants you. But most importantly, he wants you to want him too.

“What, cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He teased, using something other than angel as a nickname.

“Wh-Whatever, [REDACTED]. Shut up.” You rolled your eyes and took your attention off of him before whispering something under your breath.

“Angel, you gotta speak up.”

You grimaced, “I guess you go into the alright department. Luckily for you, you’re the only one there. You seem to be the only one I know who’s cool enough to handle me around here.”

He blinked, looking at you in subtle reverence, “A whole department for me, angel? Thank you.” He laced it with an edge of sarcasm but internally, he couldn’t have been more happy. 

He was the only one there that you tolerated! The only one you liked.

You. Chose. Him.

[halastar05]

You know what? Cold Front character headcannons!

I’m bored, and these two idiots live rent free in my head. So here are just some of my personal headcannons (do know that I have adopted a decent amount of these from fics 👍)!

Augustine:

In college, would get into wood carving as a hobby.

While waiting to get accepted into a different college, Augustine would work as a hockey coach/teacher for little kids in his hometown.

Actually a pretty good cook, not the best baker though (he helped his mom with cooking a lot as a kid).

When he was finally old enough to drink coffee, he immediately ordered a black coffee since it was “more mature”. However he despised it so now he always either discreetly adds a decent amount of milk/sugar or if no one is with him he’ll order a Mocha.

Has a single mom.

Likes corny movies, shows and stories a lot.

Has ADHD.

Is constantly at least a little tired.

Listens to Elton John

Winnie:

In college, he would switch from hockey to figure skating, however he now treats sports a bit more like a hobby.

He hates people touching his hair, there are VERY few exceptions. He works hard on it!

Good at baking, not the best at cooking.

Doesn’t like wearing gloves, he finds them itchy.

He’s the type of person who remembers everything about a person as long as he’s relatively close with them. He’ll remember something you like something even if you only brought it up once in passing.

He CAN drive well, as long as no one else is in the car. If someone else is there (or at least in the passenger seat) he will always feel the need to make eye contact with them while talking, which means his eyes are often not on the road. Even if the other person purposely doesn’t talk, Winnie will either start a conversation himself or get distracted by the presence anyway.

A space nerd, he also just enjoys looking at the stars.

He’s autistic (I’m putting this here since it’s only kinda confirmed)

Likes blueberry muffins.

Doesn’t swear much, but isn’t necessarily against it. However he will sometimes jokingly “scold” his friends for swearing.

That’s it for now! Feel free to share some of your own. Might do this for the rest of the SIG characters.

(Edit: added the last one on Winnie’s since I wanted to add it earlier but forgot)

[princess-of-the-corner]

Lost Mineta Fic

Because I’m STILL SALTY ABOUT THIS, is it SO HARD for me to recommend a good fic, do you know how many fics there are of Mineta being a decent person!? It ain’t many!

So, as much as I remember (I swear-)

(TW for sexual harassmen, not sure if it counts, but better safe than sorry)

(Unfortunately this is long so under the read more it goes!)

Fic was called “Sour Grapes Are Hard To Swallow”, or something similar

It’s mostly from Mineta’s pov, and starts shortly after Kamino, when all the kids are moving into the dorms. The fic basically starts with Aizawa and Yagi going to the Minetas to talk about the dorms, and we get our first look at Mineta Sr., who is basically Fanon!Mineta!Grapist. the meeting is tense, with Yagi at one point noting Mineta looks like someone in a hostage situation, but Mineta Sr agrees to move his kid into the dorms. After the teachers leave, We also get a pretty good look at Mineta’s home life, and … yeah, Fanon!Grapist is the best way I can describe him. Mineta Sr is a close-minded, Quirkist, anti-mute Homophobe. He’s the picture of toxic masculinity, and seems to be doing his level best to impart it onto his son, which is actually going pretty badly, and Mineta is conflicted about the fact that he isn’t more conflicted. Like, Mineta is aware he is not what his dad wants in a son (he apparently takes after his absent mother in looks), and he’s starting to wonder if maybe that’s a good thing.

A quick jump here, but part of what I loved about this fic was that it made Mineta an actual CHARACTER, rather than a collection of jokes. Someone with hobbies, and feelings, and aspirations, things that I looked at, then compared to canon, and went, “yeah, I can see that” (which, considering how little they gave us, I’m not sure how impressive that is, but there you go). For instance, Mineta likes art. He’s actually very passionate about it, and is a fairly good artist. One of the things he and Kaminari do while hanging out is play video games - Kaminari playing the game, and Mineta just watching, enjoying the set design And artwork. He and Jirou have the same taste in music, and even swap playlists sometimes. He’s apparently a fairly good tutor for the sciences. He likes animals, especially bunnies, because they always look soft. And most of this wasn’t explicit, it was more “show, don’t tell”. Again, considering how little they gave us, not much, but it was SOMETHING. 

Also, Mineta is bisexual, and TERRIFIED his dad will find out.

Like, there’s a scene/flashback of Mineta in middle school getting a crush on a boy, and how badly it went for him when he tried to ask his dad about it (spoiler, it’s how he learns that Pop Off will eventually start bleeding if he pushes it too much). Mineta basically admits to himself that he only acts how he Does, because it’s the only thing his dad ever praised him for - acting more like HIM. As the fic goes on, it becomes about Mineta, now basically out of his dad’s house, not HAVING to act like his dad, and how he deals with it. It also goes into some of Mineta’s thinking, which, while a bit warped, makes a weird amount of sense, and you kind of start to see where he’s coming from.

Like, yes, even in the fic, he ended up groping a few of the girls (and was summarily told off, given detention, and Did not do it again) but there’s a very awkward scene after a few people have learned what his dad is like, that someone points out Mineta made it a point to avoid ever doing any hero exercises with Hagakure. So, apparently, the way it went in Mineta’s mind - groping girls was something his dad was basically expecting of him as “a red blooded male”. He actually talks about the first time he did something like that in middle school (which was an accident he decided to double down on), and when they called his dad, his dad just laughed. When Mineta got home, his dad actually told him he was “proud” of him, in a roundabout way (which, yes, is messed up, that’s the whole point). So Mineta kept doing it, kept getting calls home about it, and it got his dad off his back about other things - like his art. However, Mineta was still aware it was bad, so he tried to make sure it was fairly fast, obvious, and on girls who clearly had no problem knocking him off (even if most of this was subconscious). However, he’s also vaguely aware of social norms, and all of this shit was above the waist, over clothing - Hagakure’s costume is literally boots and gloves. We later find out that Hagakure DID actually have an actual costume, it was mostly a joke saying she didn’t to freak people out, but Mineta didn’t know that. Apparently, he was genuinely concerned he would grab a naked Hagakure somewhere Not Okay, so avoided doing any exercises with her just in case. Keep in mind, it wasn’t that he WANTED to grope her, he was just conditioned to be EXPECTED TO, and the only solution he saw was making sure he never had the chance.

and yes, all of this is SEVERELY MESSED UP, but thats The point. The fic is pointing it out, saying “Wow, this thinking makes a sick kind of sense, but man, isn’t it fucked?”. They even Have Mineta and Bakugou have a conversation, shortly after Bakugou runs into Mineta and his dad over a weekend. Bakugou talks about how his mom, as much as he loves her, has really messed him up. How he acted a lot like she did, how he internalized a lot of shit she believes, about emotions making you weak, about caring making you weak, about having to stand alone to be strong, even if most of it is a bunch of bullshit. About how physical they are with each other, and how he didn’t even realize how much damage that was doing until he saw Deku without a shirt once, and realized how many scars he had. About how Bakugou is trying his best to shed some of her toxic ideas, but how hard it is.

As the story goes on, Mineta is finally starts accepting himself, especially when he starts crushing … on Kouda. No, I am not joking, this was a Mineta/Kouda fic, and I kid you not, that shit was ADORABLE. It starts as the subplot, Kouda and Mineta paired up for a school project, and Kouda finding out that Mineta draws (something he’d been hiding from basically everyone but Kaminari). They start bonding when Kouda invites him to hang out so he can draw some of Kouda’s animal friends, and just gets more tooth rottingly sweet from there. Mineta starts to realize that, after Kaminari, Kouda is probably his best friend. He doesn’t judge him, even when Mineta’s being a dick. He’s teaching him Sign Language, even though Mineta sucks at it. However, he starts to get conflicted, because Kouda is EXACTLY the type of guy his dad would call [a bunch of slurs] but he’s nice! And his Quirk is actually really cool! Not to mention they went to a museum together, and he let Mineta rant about post-modern Impressionism, and they got ice cream, and he’s really cute, andwaitwhatHOLDON-! Eventually, Mineta BiPanics, blurting out most of this to Kaminari, who is a good bro, and helps him out (while also privately planning to murder Mineta Sr.). There’s a lot more back and forth, but Mineta does eventually realize that if he wants to be himself - be happy - be a HERO - he needs to stop trying to be his dad. That he’s ABLE to stop being his dad. He’s in a place where he can safely break away from his dad, with people who will support him and keep him safe.

Now, some other random shit:

- Mineta is technically part of the Bakusquad by the end. No, I’m not kidding.

- Mineta hides his drawing in part because his dad kept insulting Him for it, and he doesn’t want anyone else too

- Kaminari only found out about Mineta’s drawing habit by accident, and he had to really work at it to make the other boy realize he wasn’t going to tease him for it

- Yes, Mineta and Kouda end up dating. For their first kiss, Kouda has to hold Mineta up, which Mineta is embarrassed about but also pleased with (he likes to be held)

- at some point, after Sero and Mineta have a bonding moment, Kaminari dubs them “Sticky Bros” (the two kind of like it despite themselves, and take it as proof they’ve been hanging out with Kami too long)

- Kaminari already kind of suspected Mineta Sr was a prick, as did, funnily enough, Jirou. Kaminari because several of Mineta’s statements seemed like red flags; Jirou, because Mineta sent her at least one playlist by mistake that was of the “Oh, these song choices aren’t concerning in the least” variety

- Everyone finds out Mineta can draw when he does a massive group picture of the whole class in their hero costumes as a birthday present for Aizawa. He actually ended up doing a fairly accurate job of drawing Hagakure’s face, revealing that he’d figured out a light reflecting trick to sort of see her. Later, said light reflection trick is semi-key to Hagakure figuring out how to turn her Quirk “off”

- when Mineta is panicking about his crush on Kouda to Kaminari, he confesses that he briefly had a crush on Shouji, purely for his hugs. Mineta is very small, and enjoys being picked up. Shouji picking him up, he says, is the platonic ideal of being cuddled.

- Mineta and Mina team up for a heroics class against 1-B, and end up kicking Monoma’s ass after he insults Bakugou

- Mineta comes out to most of the class during a game of Truth or Dare. Its right after Tsuyu, Tokoyami and Shoji reveal they’re dating, and he figures if everyone is accepting of that, they won’t much care about him being bi

- Bakugou ends up deputizing Mineta during study nights, because he can apparently explain certain things in a way Mina, Kwami and Sero will understand.

- Yaomomo finds Mineta’s phone at one point after he loses it, and sees a string of texts from Mineta Sr that make her concerned

- there is a big breakdown, where Mineta Sr shows up unannounced, makes a big scene, and Mineta has a panic attack the moment he leaves, thinking the class is going to hate him. I’m actually NOT going to describe it, because just reading it almost gave a sympathy panic attack, and I’m not doing that to myself

-There was also a scene where Mineta explains himself to his classmates, and apologizes to them (The girls in particular) for his behaviour. Everyone is more or less understanding, on the caveat “yeah, we get why you did that shit, and we are trusting you not to do it again, the moment you do we are beating your ass”.

- Ships as follows: Bakugou/Kirishima (like, two weeks after they start living in the dorms); Jirou/Yaomomo (apparently started dating just before the Summer Training Camp); Kaminari/Shinsou (Shinsou is not yet part of their class, but Midoriya keeps dragging him along, he and Kami hit it off); Tokoyami/Shouji/Tsuyu (about halfway through the fic, honestly adorable); Midoriya/Uraraka/Shouto (secondary background subplot about how all three are in love with each other, but think the other two are in love, and keep trying to step aside so those two can be happy. When Tsuyu announces she’s dating both Shouji and Tokoyami, all three have an epiphany, and spend the rest of the fic trying to figure out if the other two are into it. Someone makes the joke that their class has the Stable Poly Trio, and the Chaotic Poly Trio); Iida/Hatsume (not technically dating yet, but heavily implied that they will at some point); Sero/Ojirou (author joked they bonded over being “the plain ones [who are actually badass]”); Aoyama/Hagakure (the definition of dramatic, pansexual disasters); Mina, currently single (the author said they see Mina as grayromantic); Satou, also single (AroAce); Aizawa/Present Mic; and finally Mineta/Kouda

- Fic finale was Mineta Sr disowning Mineta after finding out his son was “a homo”, leading To Mineta becoming a ward of U.A. under Midnight, who was Sort of his mom figure at that point. Mineta Sr also ended up arrested, because he thought it was a good idea to use his Quirk (secreting some kind of adhesive from his skin) to “shut up that gay cockatoo” (Present Mic) leading the PM almost asphyxiating. 

Obviously, the fic was better written than my rambling, but here we are. If anyone finds the fic, throw me the link, cause this is the fifth time a fic I really like just FUCKING VANISHED after I recommended it, and I’m starting to wonder if I am cursed.

-

Honestly this sounds fucking fantastic and I hope someone finds the link

[docholligay]

I talk about this a lot!

I have spent much of my life with a high level of human happiness, and this has been true even when I was what could be fairly called "up against it" in a financial-housing sense.

I credit a fair amount of this to two things, and a third thing I'll also mention, though it's not mentioned above:

I do things that are difficult and require a lot of personal work and discipline and sometimes suck very much. Doc this sounds not fun at all. Well, sometimes it isn't. I read challenging texts. I run long distances. I do very intense hikes. I try to learn embroidery and I swear a lot and boy am I not even close to basic skills there. BUT, I work hard at things that require me to struggle, and require me follow through, and when I DO I get not only a shot of dopamine, which is pretty easily obtained in modern society, but a longer lasting positive sense of self. My boot camp teacher doesn't tell us something isn't hard, she yells "You can do hard things!" and I think that's the key. I can do hard things. I know that about myself, when I do hard things. And this makes me feel like a person who is control of myself and my life, even when i am...struggling with that, and that feeling CARRIES, and lets me do things like planning menus, and cleaning up my office, and working on a hard craft project because I CAN DO HARD THINGS. I cannot tell you enough how much this sense of mastery can help carry you through difficulty in life, but you have to slog through the mud first. And to reiterate the above: Things you do on your computer do not count as much. They just don't, mentally. You can hate it as much as you like, but it is in fact true that building a tiny dollhouse out of superglue and popsicle sticks will make you feel better, long term, than minecraft.

I keep a fairly large group of in-person social connections. This is important for two reasons: In-person interactions count more, mentally. This isn't to say everyone has to be your best friend, but, you know, when you have positive contact with people in your day to day life, it is a good thing, that makes you feel good. And two, the 'touch grass' of human interaction-- I think it's really important to have relationships with people who don't agree with you, or have different shades of thought from you, and it's important to have to deal with that. I think online it can be so easy to get into these circles where there is almost groupthink, and I can be just as guilty as anyone else, I am not saying I'm God's special girl. But these relationships help you learn how to deal with disagreement in a civil way, keep you tapped into the idea that there's more than one way to think about things, and also remind you that people are, generally, more alike than we are different. I know I worked with the Plains Council talking to farmers and shit for years so I have some more experience with this than others, but people in person, like to get along. It is so easy online to see the world as polarized, and to turn cruel, and again, I AM AS GUILTY AS ANYONE ELSE. I have intense regrets about how I have handled some things in the past. But people, on balance, are good. And I'm not even talking about major "I think you should die stuff" I have people I know in person where, we're both Under The Rainbow Umbrella, but I, coming from a rural lesbian point of view, might think something seems really navel-gazing and with a lot of fuckin steps to not much changing, and they might think I oversimplify the human experience and the value in thinking about the micro-ways you interact with the universe, but they trust that I am essentially a decent person, and I trust that they are, and we can both shrug our shoulders and go, "Okay, whatever makes you happy" and that is VALUABLE because we, as human beings on this earth, if we want a better world, must see each other as fully human. Every fucking person, even Ted goddamn "coward" Cruz, has a spark of the divine. And in person, it is easier to see the glint of God in another person, and to allow them to see yours and this is DEFINITELY type two fun, but once you see it, you will see that spark in everyone and you will get greedy to make people the best they could be. Also, popping off and saying something stupid in person makes stronger friendships. You cannot love someone truly, and they can't love you, until they see where you are flawed, and broken, and is...I'm not gonna say impossible, but it is so easy to craft a version of yourself online that sands off the rough edges. (Cue every person who knows me in real life going: "uh did you assume that person had a spark of the divine when you upbraided them for cutting in line?") My online friends, who have become REAL friends--it's a fucking Velveteen rabbit situation. I have seen them in real life, and they have seen me UGLY, and they say, "And so am I" and, I can't tell you how nice this all is. To be a part of a world, the way you are.

Find the light. One time, not to overshare, I was in a rough situation, and I noticed the way the sun sparkled through the frost on the window. It was beautiful. I still think about that. I was cold, and things were not great, but that was beautiful. If you look, it's worth finding.

But definitely like, go outside and say hi to someone on your street and take up a real, physical hobby.

I think people get mixed up a lot about what is fun and what is rewarding. These are two very different kinds of pleasure. You need to be able to tell them apart because if you don't have a balanced diet of both then it will fuck you up, and I mean that in a "known cause of persistent clinical depression" kind of way.

[jenoloqy]

romancing | lee donghyuck

REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG!

pairing. lee donghyuck x female reader

word count. 23.7k

genres and warnings. fluff, comedy, college au, enemies to lovers, podcast au, contains: loads of banter, swearing, weird references of tinder and tiktok references; and hyuck being whipped asf

synopsis. running a romance advisory podcast with lee donghyuck means clashing and feuding with him because you’re too hopeless while he’s too realistic. practically everyone in campus listens to it, which is why you have no idea that your co-host has started asking the show for love advice since he’s fallen for someone. for all you know, lee donghyuck does not fall in love, but you don’t know what’s changed.

author’s note. i am so scared to repost this. idk why. but ahahahaha i hope you enjoy my favourite fluff monster

Welcome to Romanicing, a romance advisory podcast hosted by two broke college students who are only doing this to pass their Speech Communications class. Nothing really special, except for the fact that the two broke college students starring this podcast haven't actually been in any form of romantic relationships. Fun, right? If you believe so, tune in every Friday 8pm for mediocre content and send in your love letters for your story to be featured!

EPISODE 1: the art of online dating sites

If there is one successful dating tip that you know could never go wrong, it would be to never chase over people that do not have the same values as you and will not care to change theirs for the sake of the relationship. You’d like to give full credit to your history teacher back in high school for introducing you to that idea, because now that you’re more exposed to the dating world with all it’s perks and scandals, you’d like to say you survived a good portion of people and their opposed political views from yours. 

It is the reason why all your tinder dates have been a failure; none of them can’t even go past the first date level and it almost scares your neighbour from seeing the amount of dinner dates you come home from with the worst scowl on your face. In fact, your tinder dates are worse than Jaemin’s calculus marks, and everyone knows he failed that course twice already. 

You won’t fully admit that this dating tip has been the major factor to why your dating life has been a total flop, you’d beg to differ. It actually gives you a greater hope that one day, you’ll find the perfect person that will actually fit your standards out of all the other ones that haven’t fit it. And when you finally find that person, it will be the best day of your life. 

For now, let’s focus on the worst day of your life. 

The day you are forced to chase a person who doesn’t have the same values as you. All for a decent mark in your Speech Communications class because your professor had the audacity to partner you up with Lee Donghyuck even after witnessing all the heavily tensioned debates that ensue between the both of you in class. 

“The fact that this is all going to be pre-recorded but we sound like complete idiots makes my headache,” you mumble to the microphone, earning a look of displeasure from your partner, “Anyways, I’ve recently opened our PO box, and I didn't realize that tons of you guys would actually participate. Thanks for the support.”

“With all the posters you placed on campus and peer pressuring anyone that passes by you in the hallways to send in some love letters, I’m surprised if nobody would participate.” You watch as Donghyuck rolls his eyes, and if it only weren’t for the expensive equipment separating the both of you across the table, you would’ve thrown the closest item to you, which is your morning coffee. 

“It’s called advertising, Donghyuck.”

“No wonder why you didn’t pursue business; wise words from a Communications Major.”

There’s a sparkle of satisfaction running through his blood when he sees you taken aback. And knowing that you can’t do anything about that witty remark, he leans back on his chair, watching as you make an attempt to keep yourself composed during the recording while he lets out a light chuckle. 

The moment he notices you clench your fists, the smile on his face grows wider.

Fake it till’ you make it. 

“And since we’re talking about communication, the first set of love advice we’ll be sharing with you guys is about online dating and meeting people through Omegle—you like what I did there?” You say to the recording. Not to Donghyuck — never Donghyuck. “Many of your stories were surrounded by this concept and it’s only fair if we start off this podcast with a bang.” 

“I think online dating is stupid,” your partner comments unhelpfully. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t read any of the love letters and has been relying on you to carry the project. Curse him and his invalid opinions. “I’ve never seen anybody that used Tinder to have gone farther with their relationship other than the talking stage or one-night-stand stage”

“That’s because you're searching in the wrong places,” you take his words to heart, almost pettily because you have to deal with a person who easily stereotypes the online dating world when you know there’s so much more to it. You can’t really say much about it (since your experiences really aren’t the best), but the fair share of documentaries and stories you heard about the successful matches should get into people’s heads. 

“Look— there was a couple that started dating through Omegle, and the boy lived in California while the other is currently living on campus. They’ve been together for two years.”

“Oh. That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugs, still seeming unconvinced. You’ve made a lot of bad decisions throughout your lifetime, but creating a podcast surrounding the concepts of love and dating with Donghyuck is your worst decision yet. Because now that you watch him tap the pencil on the table with little to no interest on his face, you conclude that Lee Donghyuck knows nothing about love and the perks of it. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” You stare down at him, agape. 

“I mean— What else do you want me to say?”

“Donghyuck, this is a podcast.” With that, he looks at you as if you’re speaking to him in a foreign language. You don’t understand why he chose to pursue this type of education when he doesn’t know the basic means and fundamentals. “You need to… you know… talk…”

“Can’t we just cut this part then?” Donghyuck raises both of his hands, his tone sarcastic and emotions unbothered.

“Don’t play stupid. I’m not going to spend most of my evening editing this just because my co-host, which to note is pursuing a career that consists of talking to other people, can’t think of the proper words to say.” You let out a loud sigh, grabbing your mug of coffee and chugging down the lukewarm drink out of stress. They say that doing group work means less individual work, but when your partner does the bare minimum, it feels as if you’re doing double the work instead. 

“Okay, okay, calm down.” he chuckles lightly, whisking away his hand and adjusting the office chair to speak closer to the mic. He looks straight into your eyes when he talks, and you don’t know if he’s doing it to tease you. “Hmm, I’m just a little sceptical about meeting other people through the internet. I have my skepticisms on it. The first and last time my housemate tried online dating, he just got catfished.”

“Are you talking about—?” You suddenly get reminded of Jeno. 

“Mhm.” He nods. “So yeah, big red flag for me there. If you guys want to find sentimental, genuine relationships with others. I’d say look for the people around you in person.” Donghyuck is right and wrong at the same time. 

“I don’t think online dating sites take away someone’s ability to be genuine to another person. I don’t think it really takes away anything for the matter. Yeah people use it for hookups but there’s a whole other side where people actually look for love. In fact, it probably makes relationships stronger; especially when there’s a distance, a screen that’s refraining you from actually meeting a person until you do; it just shows how even through this separation love can bloom.”

“Now you’re just sugarcoating.” He wails and leans back aggressively on the chair, the both of you done with each other's opinions but have nothing to do with it because you need this assignment mark. And it seems like even with 50% worth of both your grades worth on the line, it seems he can put his differences aside to make this podcast seem less of a circus and instead a decent outline to get dating advice. 

“I’m just spreading hope. Unlike you over here who probably hasn’t made an attempt to download a dating app.” It’s no use trying to correct someone who doesn’t want to be corrected.

“Did any of your Tinder dates work?” He attacks out of nowhere, and your heart stops for a second when a smirk forms on his face mirthfully. 

“Pardon?” You ask, blinking your eyes repeatedly.

“Answer my question.” 

The heat on your cheeks keeps Donghyuck’s face looking satisfied because he knows that he’s cornered you at the end of the alley. And it’s worse that you're a person who never lies, “No…”

Your hands slightly clench under the table. “And that concludes our stance on online dating. It. Doesn’t. Work.” At that, Donghyuck pats himself on the back.

Your eyes widen. What is he doing? It’s like Donghyuck wants to lose viewers and lose both your credibilities. And now, you genuinely hope your professor steps on a path of Legos for partnering you with him. “Don’t listen to him, I swear one day you’ll find someone! Love takes time! You’re first right swipe isn’t necessarily your life-long partner, you just have to be patient—”

“Are you going to listen to someone who can’t even find a date herself?”

It’s when Donghyuck bites his lip to refrain himself from laughing that you’ve lost all the last droplets of your patience. 

“Your face looks very punchable right now.” You tell him through gritted teeth. 

“Come at me. I don’t mind.” The beam that breaks out on his face doesn’t make the situation any better, and your whole body collectively agrees to never be in the same room with him, alone, after this project ends. 

EPISODE 2: the morning after (the show went live)

Right off the bat, you knew the podcast would gain some talk around the campus, but you didn’t actually expect for it to blow up over night. 

You have a faint idea as to why it happened, and it’s no surprise that the first two thoughts that popped up in your mind would be because of the excellent marketing skills you’ve contributed to the project or; because Donghyuck is the school’s well known striker in the soccer team and (you hate to admit) a heartthrob and most of the views are coming from the people that think he’s hella cute. You hope for the former.

But when Jaemin reads out the school’s bi-weekly paper in the middle of his tutoring lesson, you realize that the reason why people in your school are tweeting about the podcast is because of a whole other reason. 

The reason being, yours and Donghyuck’s on-mic banters. 

“That was so hilarious,” Jaemin gets distracted for the upteenth time during his tutoring session with you, indulging himself into some talk about your new podcast with his roommate while he throws his pencil up in the air in a frantic manner. Fun fact, actually really really sad fact, the reason why you know Donghyuck on a personal level is through Jaemin, and being the wonderful best friend he is to you (insert the sarcasm), he finds it absolutely lovely you can interact with his roommates. 

“For you, it was.” You shove in a piece of broccoli from the college meal plan in your mouth. Well, Jaemin’s piece of broccoli because he refuses to eat it and gives it to you instead. You chew your food as you talk, “I mean… yeah people got a good laugh because of it. But I don’t want to enter the lecture and see a disappointed look from prof’ after hearing how unprofessional me and Donghyuck were.”

“Uh…” Jaemin chuckles nervously, not knowing what to say as he scratches the back of his head. There’s a meek smile playing on his lips, “It’s not about being professional. I think it’s nice that you guys are able to banter like that, it shows your personalities… and some on-mic chemistry.”

“C-Chemistry?” You stare at him in the most awe-struck expression your face can muster up, lips turning pale at the fact that Jaemin thinks that you and Donghyuck have a dynamic like that. It’s weird to think about. You and Donghyuck... with chemistry... you feel a shiver run through your back. 

“Well, yeah. You guys always know what to say to each other.” Jaemin absentmindedly comments as he closes his calculus textbook. You’re pretty sure he’s stalling at this point and he doesn’t want you to talk anymore mathematical terminology, but you’re too worried about his opinion to continue teaching him.

“That���s because we argue a lot. I practically think of arguments in the shower so I make decent comebacks from his insults.” You raise your arms in defeat, leaning back on your chair and unable to realize that Donghyuck is listening well to your conversation with Jaemin.

“So you think about me in the shower?” He says from the living room — which is honestly only ten metres away from the dining table — and a smirk lingers on his face, “I love that.”

You hate his egotistical mindset, “Not in that way, you idiot.”

“Oh,” he shivers delightfully, “I love the degradation, keep on going, princess.”

You jerk your head to face him, squinting as you watch him sit down on the couch, placing his sports bag right on the vacant area beside him and turning his periphery back to you to notice the literal death glares you're giving him. He likes the attention.

You decide not to argue further, unless you want to make Donghyuck satisfied. You don’t. He wants you to piss him off, to give him all the attention you can give. So you give him the opposite of what he wants. 

“Anyways, Jaemin.” You turn your head back to face your best friend, opening up his textbook and watching as he slumps down. Jaemin really thought he could get away with his act, “Look at problem number four...”

And while you start to get back into the tutoring lesson, Donghyuck watches you argue back and forth in the slightest ways with Jaemin, his heart racing when he hears the small giggles that elicit your mouth when you let Jaemin complain to you how much of a pain his mandatory calculus class is, or when your eyebrows furrow at reading his textbook. He thinks it’s cute.

Wait, what?

“So... How long are you gonna put up with this act?” Donghyuck almost forgets that Jeno is in the same room as him, which is why he jumps from his seat when he sees Jeno looking up from his laptop to look back at Donghyuck with such a taunting expression. 

He clears his throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Donghyuck makes a reminder to himself to keep his tone low, because even if yours and Jaemin’s voices are too loud to be able to hear the other conversation happening on the other side of the room, there’s still a possibility you can hear it.

“Yes you do.” Jeno chuckles, standing up from the love seat and making his way so he can sit on the same couch as his roommate, “You definitely know what I’m talking about.” 

At this, his throat turns dry.

There’s a confession Donghyuck needs to make, and probably everyone has already been aware of this secret before he even confesses it. Well, not everybody. He doesn’t actually hate you. In fact, he doesn’t know what catalyzed him to pretend to hate you in the first place. But you don’t know that. Not when you’re too busy mustering up your next argument with him to realize he actually doesn’t reciprocate the hatred you give.

He doesn’t hate you. He thinks you’re pretty cool. Pretty and cool. 

And the thing is, when Donghyuck thinks someone is pretty (and) cool, he would like it if he could get their attention. Even if that attention isn’t the best form of attention that could exist. It’s stupid. It’s his beautiful and absolute form of desperate measures. But you’re pretty and cool. 

He wants your attention.

"Okay, listen," he keeps his tone low, leaning closer in order for Jeno to hear his whispers. It's almost passive aggressive, and he talks through gritted teeth. "You don't just say this out loud, what if those two hear you?”

Although it contrasts Donghyuck's stance, the last thing he wants to happen is for you to find out about his perception of you. It's better this way, he assumes. It's better because he doesn't have to over-analyze anything. If anything, it keeps him more at bay; obviously excluding the times Jeno has to call him out on how whipped he looks. Because he isn't whipped nor infatuated, he just finds you tolerable more than you can account. And, again, pretty cool.

“You’re. Right. What if those two hear us? Will something happen?” Jeno emphasizes; still not empathetic of Donghyuck and deciding to talk in such a loud manner.

Donghyuck's heart races when you momentarily turn to their direction, eyebrows furrowing at the commotion of the two boys. It makes him freeze to his spot, terrified of almost getting caught before you turn back around casually and continue on helping with Jaemin.

Jeno watches as Donghyuck releases a breath of relief, and this causes a nudge on the shoulder, because Jeno should know when to keep his mouth shut, yet he still decides not to. He wiggles his eyebrows at Donghyuck with a mischievous glint taunting his eye, enjoying the scowl on the boy's face.

“Don’t.” Donghyuck leans back on the couch, sending Jeno those words in a whisper-yell.

If Donghyuck ever regrets any moment he's done in his life, and his you-only-live-once agenda, it would be that he told Jeno of all people his secret. And with every passing second, Donghyuck feels as if he's falling into a miserable hell hole because of anxiousness, trying his best not to look back at your figure just to make sure you aren't listening to the conversation.

He feels like a high school student being painfully obvious about his crush. But he knows better than to compare this to a crush. It's not a crush. It's just you. The bane of his existence. And that can mean something different depending on the context and perspective you look through.

“Don’t what?” Jeno tests. Yup, he hates his guts. And the chuckle that escapes the other boy's lips is turning Donghyuck crimson red.

“Fuck you.” He mutters underneath his breath, trying to fleet his mind of the situation as he plays with the laces of his soccer shoes inside his backpack; anything to distract him. He doesn't even know why Jeno has the audacity to bring this up now, he knows you're at the same roof as him; and his eyes light up when he hits a nerve.

“Imagine all the girls that will be disappointed when they find out that pretty boy over here can swear.” Jeno shakes his head in faux disappointment, making his way to grab the remote controller and turning on the television. In attempts to drown out the noise they are making. “Now tell me, what with Y/N that makes you act like… this.”

The question causes him at a halt. Why is he even acting like this? What the fuck?

After a five second pause, he speaks up, “Nothing. I just think she’s cute.” Donghyuck shrugs, finally making an effort to compose himself instead of staying flustered in front (but not really in front) of you.

“Yeah, sure.” Jeno rolls his eyes. He doesn't buy it.

Blame his marketing tactics, because Jeno knows when someone is lying or not. It's a business major instinct, to know if someone is being genuine with their words, or just saying them to save face. He knows Donghyuck is just saying that to save face.

And you know what gave it away?

It's when he looks down at the ground, smiling to himself when he says those words. No one does that unless they are whipped.

“What?” Donghyuck looks up, furrowing his brows and staring at Jeno questioningly, his eyes asking for him to elaborate.

He has a slight idea of what Jeno is implying.

“So, you’re not going to tell her.”

Jeno says more as a statement rather than a question, nodding to himself to accept how that situation will end up as. For some reason, Donghyuck can hear the downheartedness enlaced in his roommate's voice, and he doesn't understand why so. Because Jeno knows you, it's not even that serious. He knows Donghyuck isn't that type of person.

But it's the fact that it is you of all people that caught Donghyuck's eye. You. Just regular, mediocre, you. Jaemin's best friend who visits the apartment every other day and shares an 8am class with him. Nothing special at that. But something special enough to gain a reputation from Donghyuck that is not part of the people that likes him for clout. You're the enemy-not-so-enemy.

It's almost flattering that you both end up like this. It keeps him up his toes, excited at what next argument you'll be able to muster up in front of him. There's no compliments nor sweet interactions. It's purely of insults and dirty looks and maybe a casual interaction once in every new moon. And he thinks that that is pretty cool.

“Hell nah. She doesn’t need to know.” He likes it this way. It's fun, new, refreshing. “I don’t want to see her getting all gassed up because of it.”

Donghyuck chuckles to himself, zipping up his backpack.

“Or maybe you can actually have a chance.” Jeno corrects, but Donghyuck refuses to let this get to him.

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Never that.”

And he will take this stance till’ the day he dies.

Because Lee Donghyuck, soccer player, campus heartthrob, will not say those words out loud. Lee Donghyuck refuses to, and he too refuses to fall in love. Romance podcast or not, he will not fall in love with anyone; his extent will only be thinking of someone as ‘pretty cool’, and that already, is sending red flags his way.

EPISODE 3: the sports captain stereotypes 

The next two weeks, you find yourself in utter chaos as you navigate through the waves of learning how to properly detail the podcast so it will be user-friendly enough — curse being a Technology Grandma™ in the first place — and; doing the editing, rough scripts and idea planning all by yourself. All while your supposed partner in crime does the bare minimum.

You try not to blame him, since he did mention that his schedule is pretty hectic: Tuesday and Thursday mornings are designated for going to the gym, Wednesday to Friday at 3:00pm is for soccer practice, his weekends are also busy because he uses that time to party and study; and though you have your fair share of college struggles, it isn’t as ridiculous compared to a student athlete, which is why you brought it up to yourself to carry the assignment. 

But it still doesn’t change the fact that he must still contribute to the good mark, after all, he too is one of the professor's favourite student’s (along with you, surprise), and he would be dead-fucked if he fails this course. 

It doesn’t help that you hate his guts.

It doesn’t help that you have to put aside that hatred to get this project finished, instead of hating him more for not doing anything. 

You don’t know how you’ve managed to memorize his schedule… then again, you also remember Jeno’s schedule so it shouldn’t be that of a big deal… but you decide to take advantage of this piece of knowledge and proceed to reach out to Donghyuck.

It’s a shame that desperate times call for desperate measures, because if Donghyuck had the initiative to at least help you with some parts of the project, even with his schedule, then you wouldn’t end up with this predicament.

Jaemin and Jeno says they will wait in the car, eating away the fast food takeout you three ordered earlier (you doubt they will even save some food the time you return) and sending you an encouraging thumbs up before they bury their faces in the burgers, you looking at them painfully disgusted before grabbing your laptop and notebook, trudging across the parking lot and towards the campus field. 

Right from the get-go, you can already dread the image of talking to him; Donghyuck, the one who’s most likely dripping in sweat because he’s just finished practice, feeling the shivers crawl down your skin the moment Donghyuck realizes that you took the time to work on the assignment even under the sun. Especially with your whole “I don’t chase people” ordeal, he will definitely not forget this. 

To you, Lee Donghyuck is merely a boy who you will only act respectively because he’s your best friend’s roommate, and for the sake of getting a good mark. There has always been a principle to his arrogance and smugness — something that will unforcebly cause your face to scrunch in disdain. And with the amount of torment he’s given you by just simply existing in your life, you’d like to say you have your fair share of valid reasons why you don’t want to be in the same league as him. 

But nevertheless, you will still work with him. Again, just for the sake of getting a good mark.

The sun delicately drips down the soccer field, rays of golden light seeping down the grass patch just while the Coach’s whistle blows, the sound of him screaming ‘thirty seconds left’ from the sidelines causing the team to speed up their laps around the field. At the opposite end of the field from where you're standing, is the specific person you’re looking for; he who has placed more effort than anybody else to sprint the last few seconds.

“Oh,” you accidentally let out when your eyes trail to Donghyuck’s figure, seeing how his jersey tightly clings onto his body. Although everybody else in the field is decked out in the exact same uniform, you could easily recognize the outline of his ass and how his shorts perfectly hug his skin like it’s already part of his body. And you instantly look away, hating that you can admit such a fact in the first place. 

A smirk plays across his face when he realizes he’s the first one done the laps, his chest heaving up and down heavily and placing his hands on his knees, catching his breath. You swear, you don’t mean to look at him, heck you don’t even know why you still look back at his figure, but the odds are never in your favour when Donghyuck looks up. 

He feels a presence looking at his figure, and when he decides to see where it’s coming from, he sees you, standing meekly by the sidelines, hugging your laptop like it’s a safety blanket and the tote bag tempting to fall off your shoulders, and the smirk on his face grows wider.

And Donghyuck is good at maintaining eye contact, because his gaze lingers on you for a little while, wiping off the sweat trickling down his face all while keeping his eyes on you. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and when you turn to stare at another soccer player to save some embarrassment, Donghyuck scoffs and chuckles to himself.

He stands straight, turning to the coach and lifting his hand.

“Coach give me five,” he calls for five, and the whistle blows loudly through your ears. It's only been less than thirty seconds since your arrival, and you can already feel yourself regretting going here in the first place. The hold on your laptop gets tighter when he walks up to you, an aura of confidence and mirth radiating his presence as he moves closer to you.

You glare at him, but it doesn't make your side of the situation any better. Instead, the smile on his face unwavers. The annoyance dripping against your gritted teeth reaches the maxima when he stops in front of you, only inches apart, placing both hands on his hips and wondering why the hell you're here.

“Well, if it isn't my favourite girl. I’m glad you came to cheer for me,” the sweetness in his voice irks your skin, if your hands weren't full in this moment, then you could've used it to push him away from you.

“Woah, calm down for a sec’,” you step back, opting to place your stuff on the bleachers beside you and giving him a slight glare, “I’m not here to ‘cheer’ for you, I’m here against my own will just so I can find time to do this project with you. So if you can, will you please catch your breath quicker and do this with me?”

He pants heavily, touching his chest and controlling his breathing. When he sees you roll your eyes at his act, he snickers and proceeds to swipe his hair back, feigning amusement when you try to ignore what he's trying to do to you.

Honestly, you could just turn your heel around and act as if you never made the decision to visit him during practice. You can act like this was all just a plain dream and pretend it never happened; just texting him later in the evening to do his part of the project and hope for the best that he will, actually do it. In fact, you can pick your stuff up from the bleachers and just eat the take out in the parking lot with the other two boys, but because Donghyuck has called a five minute break just, it's the simplest reason why you're holding back.

“Feisty.” Donghyuck notes to himself aloud, and you send him a snarl, only for him to make another step closer to you, “Anyways, you know we could’ve just done this at my place.” He crosses his arms, waiting for another one of your (excuses) retorts and waiting for you to pretend as if everything he does, does not matter to you.

“And everytime I try doing it at your place, you end up stalling and telling me to hang out with Jaemin instead.” You spit, moving aside to grab a seat, the heat of the metal causing you to wince for a quick second before getting accustomed to it.

If only Donghyuck isn't a pain in the ass, then you could've been doing this project peacefully at his dorm; though you realize after years of hanging around with him and the other boys that he is not like that. Donghyuck is of spontaneous, messy schedules that end up seeming as if he has his life down to a t. He can do these things with you anywhere other than mid-practices, but that really doesn't sound like a Donghyuck move to do so.

So, this is what you have to deal with for now.

“Fine then,” he sits beside you by the bleachers, grabbing a quick drink of water before facing you, “What do you want me to do?”

He watches as you turn on your laptop, giving him your notebook in your tote bag and a pencil to write some stuff down. Little do you know, the rest of the team, along with the coach, is giving the captain a strange look; pretending to talk amongst themselves about new game tactics and such, but they instead are just observing your interactions.

Especially since they all know that you both host the new hit podcast around the school. And they all know about the on-mic banters that ensue you both. They briefly wonder if that's all a popularity stunt, a hoax, a marketing plan so you both can get clout, or, if you and Donghyuck actually hate each other.

And seeing how uninterested their captain looks, while you on the other hand look stressed, they assume that whatever the hell your relationship holds with one another, they know that it isn't one that is good.

“I need a new idea for next week.” You start to type on the document that stores all your podcast ideas, Donghyuck just waiting for you to say something that will have to deal with his contribution. “And, I won’t be able to edit this week’s audio. I have to study for a test in my other class, so I was wondering if you can do it just for now?”

You look up from your screen, and you notice that he's holding back a laugh.

“Damn.” Donghyuck nods to himself, drawing scribbles on the notebook for good riddance while you look at him confusingly.

“Huh?”

“This is the first time you’re begging me for help.” He drops the notebook in front of him, propping his hands behind his back on the seat.

His eyes light up when he realizes he's hit another nerve in you.

The shit-eating grin seems to never leave his face, and you can just pull his locks away from his head out of displeasure. You want to wipe off that sickening look on his face, but your annoyance seems to gain him more pleasure. Remind you that he does this all for simple measures — to gain your attention, nothing less, nothing more — and you're just giving it to him.

“I am not ‘begging’ for help, Donghyuck.” The amount of time you have to talk back and answer/correct him for the past few minutes has already started to make your head spin. If only you really could, you would've stuck up the middle finger at him right then and there, but you're desperate, and even if you don't want to admit it, you are begging Lee Donghyuck for help. You sigh, hesitance enlaced in your words, “Listen, if you don’t want to do this. I’ll find a way to do it myself.”

“You talk too much,” this time, he rolls his eyes, placing his hand out, “Just give me the USB. I'll do it.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at how easy this was, “Are you sure?” And you can't blame yourself to think that he might just be pulling a joke on you, and at the final second, that he might pull his hand back and tell you to do this yourself because he needs to work his ass off for the his stupid, upcoming game.

Wait, no. He actually looks serious this time.

“It’s my project too, you know.” He says out loud, exasperated, yet for some reason, you can also hear a tone of reassurance in it. “I have to do something.” 

You almost think he’s a hypocrite for saying such words — and since you're already in this topic, you would like to complain just how group projects are just pure, blissful pain. Period. Because Donghyuck could’ve been doing something this whole time. 

Well, it’s still partially your fault for volunteering to do the majority of the work, but still! Who’s going to do it if it isn’t you? Your trust with group projects doesn’t make your reliance on him any better. At least he’s the professor's second favourite student? Oh. You totally forgot about that.

You look down, smiling at yourself at the amount of stress you're giving to your body and how crazily worried you are, at this point, it’s better to just shake it off. After this day, you make a mental note not to underestimate the man sitting across from you, and maybe, rely on him more often, only if he’s deemed worthy.

“Well, I’m glad you know that.”

You giggle, and Donghyuck’s heart starts slamming out of his chest, taking a breath of relief and shifting on his seat. He’s in a state of bewilderment, almost taken aback that you didn’t scold him this time or tell him that you will punch his face. And he doesn't know how to feel about it.

“Okay,” his voice doesn’t come off as strong as he initially wanted it to, but he’s thankful you’re not paying much attention to it, immersed in your own feelings to worry about his’. “For the next episode, what if you talk about secret admirers, I’m sure there’s a lot of love letters they gave us about that.”

It’s the first idea that pops up in his mind. No clue to how he got that idea. But it works. It makes sense. And probably better than any idea you can think of on the dot. You quickly type it up on your laptop, and you too are surprised at how easy this conversation has been in the end. Well, compared to all the others then yeah.

“Hmm, okay I’ll write that down,” you give him a meek smile before shutting down your laptop, taking the notebook away from Donghyuck and facing away from him to fix your stuff, “Thank you, I guess.”

“Whatever,” he proceeds to stand up, you see his shadow on the ground, and you’re unable to see Donghyuck’s gaze lingering on you a little longer, “I have to go now, coach is calling. Do you need anything else?”

“I’m good now, thanks.” You shrug, glancing up at him for a split second before going back to placing your items back in your bag.

Donghyuck takes one last sip from his water bottle before he walks back to the field, the coach blowing his whistle and everyone rounding to huddle in a circle.

“Wait.” 

Oh my god what are you doing? 

Donghyuck turns back at you, puzzled. “Do you want me to wait for you until practice ends? Jeno and Jaemin are in the car right now, and we’re going somewhere after.” 

His eyes soften, you can feel a weird flutter settling in your belly, having the sudden urge to slap your head at the spontaneity of your question. Donghyuck can assume you probably didn’t mean it at all, and it was just an act of kindness. But he can tell that you're trying. “It’s fine. I might have to do more drills after practice, but I appreciate the offer.”

He wants to say yes, after all, this is the first time you're offering for him to join whatever you, Jaemin and Jeno are up to, but he feels as if you’re just doing it for the sake of being nice. 

What Donghyuck assumes is something far from the truth.

 “No worries.” You tell him it’s fine, and Donghyuck rubs the back of his head, taking a step back awkwardly. Just then, his coach screams out his name from across the area.

He apologizes, before running towards the huddle circle with his team. You watch his demeanour shift during his practice, and you let out a sigh, trying not to over-analyze the whole situation. You stand up, heaving another breath before turning your body to walk to the parking lot.

Donghyuck turns to look if you're still there, but much to his dismay, he sees you figure slowly exiting out his periphery.

Maybe next time, he tells himself. 

If there even is a next time.

EPISODE 4: for lovers who hesitate

Donghyuck reads the set of love letters for the first time during the podcast. After reading through just one of them, he has made a conclusion to never read another one for the remainder of the season, and he will partially — or maybe wholeheartedly — blame it on the way the letter was almost as if it was directed to him. 

It isn’t directed to him, he wishes.

Because he feels awfully attacked by it.

“Dear Romancing…” He follows through, eyes glued to the paper as he reads it aloud in front of the microphone, “I have a friend. He’s a great guy, really, but I sometimes think he’s the dumbest person to have ever existed. He says he doesn’t fall in love. But it looks like he wants to fall in love. And I think that’s really weird because I don’t know what’s stopping him. I hope he listens to this podcast, because I want to knock some sense into him.”

It’s the last sentence that makes his eye unconsciously twitch, sending imaginary daggers to the person who gave the letter because he knows exactly who wrote this. Either it has to be related to the things he said to a certain someone, or he’s just overthinking and this isn’t actually about him. But his gut feeling is telling him it’s about him.

Yeah, you could say that these type of friendships are the ones that are keepers, since they tend to be chaotic yet for a reason, and Donghyuck honestly thinks having friends like that are cool, but when he’s on the receiving end of the slander, he just wants to take his soccer ball and drop kick it to the person’s face.

Because he can imagine the look of amusement on Jeno's face when he placed this letter on the PO box. 

“Oh wow. That’s so cute.” You giggle quietly. Usually Donghyuck would feel some sort of butterflies when hearing it, but he feels more at fear for himself and has no time to give a damn about what you're saying. Because all he cares about is to save face from you. “People who have friends like these are the best. Right, Donghyuck?”

He’s reading the letter quietly one more time, the only thing remotely important at this time is if any part of the piece contains any easter eggs that will show that his roommate (and now-ex-best friend) is the cause of this.

“Hyuck?” You call out his name, turning to see his eyes glued on the piece of paper. 

“Mhm. Yeah. What you said.” You can tell he’s not listening, it’s all evident from his facial reactions. 

“Are you even listening?” You drum your fingers on the desk repeatedly, waiting for Donghyuck’s gaze to shift to you as you raise your tone of voice a little louder. There’s a difference between someone being able to hear a person and someone listening to the person. And you know for a fact Donghyuck can hear you, he literally winced when you spoke up, but the thing is, he’s not paying attention.

“Mhm.” Donghyuck mumbles, if it wasn’t for the podcast currently recording you would’ve easily just grabbed the paper away from him and asked him what’s his problem. But you have to act like a proper civilian here and add even one more droplet in the smallest bottle of patience you have for the boy. 

“So if you were forced to be in a room full of creepy dolls, then you would?” You raise your brow, testing him.

“Mhm.” And he replies immediately. 

The corners of your lips twitch up.

“And if Jaemin asks you to buy him a $100 meal tonight, would you give it to him?” 

“Mhm.” This time, he adds a nod to his answer, nose still up the paper. To that, you let out a snort, glad that this conversation is even recorded in the first place so now people can realize how much of a fool your co-host is. The noise coming from your mouth makes Donghyuck look up, “Wait, what?”

“I think there’s a little birdie in the room that can resonate with this letter.” He gulps at your word, and you feign innocence in front of him, acting as if you didn’t just make him agree to buying a hundred dollar meal for Jaemin, “So… Hyuck… How’s your love life going?”

The taunt in your voice makes him want to add you on his ‘people to drop kick list’, and the way your batting your eyelashes, attempting to keep things at bay at the same time poking fun of his actions, gives him more of a reason not to tell you about his slight attraction for you.

The moment you find out about that, he’s completely, one hundred percent fucked. He doesn’t think the idea of it stroking your ego would be the best. And this idea makes the one hundred dollar meal for Jaemin look more appealing. 

“Shut up.” He mutters underneath his breath, before sliding the love letter across the table. You take it from him and read the words yourself, the smile on your face evident that it will stay there for a while. 

“Okay but really. To whoever sent this letter, I too get confused when people get scared to fall in love. I swear it’s the best feeling ever.” You gush over it, exasperated and talking to the mic, it makes Donghyuck want to barf. He gags when your cheeks heat up at the thought. “Or that’s probably just me being the hopeless romantic that I am, but people are missing out if they hold back with love.”

“At least you admit that you’re hopeless,” he sighs, tempted to slap his palm on his face, but deciding to do so mentally, “It doesn’t hurt to think rationally sometimes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You give him a look, taken aback at his offense as you fold the letter closed. 

“It means your acting as if being in love is the solution to everybody’s problem.” He’s diving onto an even more sensitive topic over here, and the smile that was evident on your face slowly dissolves with each nasty word coming out of Donghyuck’s mouth. It’s nasty because you know he isn’t wrong, which on your part is a struggle to admit. “Maybe the friend is hesitating because they are scared.”

Donghyuck, ever the realistic one between the both of you, leaves you tongue tied again. Your heart drops at the thought that someone would refrain themself because of fear.

“You’re right…” You swallow the pill in your mouth, feeling some sort of lump in your throat as you search for something— anything from Donghyuck that will make you understand further. “But I don’t get why they would be scared.”

You don’t get why people are scared because you’ve never felt the reason to be scared.

You fall in love because you find you have a reason to, even if you don’t know specifically who or why you like the feeling.

Donghyuck thinks it’s naive for you to think so.

You think it’s heartless for him not to think so.

“I don’t know.” Donghyuck slowly rolls his thoughts off his mouth, shifting on his seat. It doesn’t take him long before he finds the perfect excuse for him and his predicament, something so simple yet effective, and it’s the two sentences that he tells everybody else when they ask him why he doesn’t fall in love. No one gives him follow up questions after he says it, “Maybe they already felt it once. And maybe they don’t like the feeling.”

Donghyuck lets out a quiet breath of relief, assuming that you’ll understand now that he doesn’t want to talk about it. But much to his dismay, your eyes light up instead, concluding that he says his words so vaguely because he wants you to talk to him more about it. No. He doesn’t want that. Sigh. “Have you ever fallen in love before?”

You prop your elbows on the table, curious as ever, and so oblivious. Donghyuck makes a mental note to not read any more of the love letters during the recording. He also makes a mental note to discuss what weekly themes the podcast will talk about before recording sessions, so he won’t act like a complete idiot in the room. Sigh.

“Do you want an honest answer?” He’s hoping you just drop the topic, but he might as well just say it. He might as well just say it in front of the fucking podcast, for thousands of people to hear, for you to hear. Just so you won’t bother him about it again. After all, if you think of him as Mr. Pessimist, you might as well know why.

“Well.. yeah.” Your body tenses up the same time he does this, you almost regret saying you want to know about what happened.

“Then yes. I did. And I think it’s overhyped.” Donghyuck says it firmly, and it gives you a reason to shut up. He doesn’t say anything as well after, and the recording turns dead. You conclude the podcast with an awkward chuckle, a meek apology to your co-host for being so nosy, while his jaw is clenched and his heart is at closed doors.

When you leave the studio that day, you take along with you new knowledge about Lee Donghyuck. Firstly, he might potentially have a hopeless heart. And that hopeless heart started to become a little too literal till it finally crushed him into pieces. The idea terrifies you. Mainly because you have a hopeless heart right now. And you wonder what would happen if you were in his shoes. 

Secondly, Lee Donghyuck fell in love once. And you briefly wonder who that person is, before wondering why they would break his heart. Truth be told, Donghyuck is a decent man to an extent, and you wonder why they would make him feel this way.

You walk back home with a messy recording ready to be edited, and Donghyuck walks home with a shard of glass running down his body; pissed and anxious. He feels the vibrations of his phone, and it doesn’t make his mood better, but at the same time, it doesn’t make it worse.

[2 messages from Jeno to Hot Boy Shit]: so… how was the recording? did you like what i sent? *smirks*

[2 messages from Jaemin to Hot Boy Shit]: wait whats happening lol ive just got a text from bestie that you owe me a 100$ meal ?!

[2 messages from Donghyuck to Hot Boy Shit]: nah fuck you  both of you

EPISODE 5: past and present roads collide

Donghyuck comes home to a lot of things.

He comes home from the sight of Jeno doing his marketing homework, papers sprawled in the middle of the dining table while his oversized hoodie gets the best of his body. 

He can also come home from Jaemin’s failed attempts at baking, the weird smell of something burning seeping through the air, and him fanning a cloth over the smoke detector just so it won’t alarm.

Honestly, it’s safe to say he’s seen a lot of things when he comes home, whether it be something so simple, or something so questionable. This is his small ball of a constant, and him being a strong advocate of habit, he thinks this is all part of routine.

But there he is, coming home from soccer practice, his headband pulling back some parts of his hair away from his face, and he sees a sight he’s not accustomed to (Spoiler: it’s not you, because that sight of you is something that's already been part of his constant).

In other words, Donghyuck thinks he’s seen it all, seen so many oddities in the past years of being roommates with two fools, there will be nothing that phases him.

Or so he thought.

“Congratulations!” 

Because there goes Jaemin with a light pink party hat, standing by the front door of the apartment, holding up a banner alongside Jeno that says the exact words that elicit out of his mouth. It’s ten past seven, and Donghyuck was expecting to come home and take a fat nap, but he looks at the sight in front of him, and tries so hard not to drop his duffel bag on the floor in awe.

“Awe, what’s with the face? Do you not like it?” The enthusiasm in Jaemin’s face drops, and although Donghyuck doesn’t like seeing him being the killoy of all this, he genuinely can’t understand why there is an all of a sudden surprise party. He looks around, and there are faces here that he is more so familiar with, like yours, and some others he sees passing in the hallways.

“What is happening… is it someone’s birthday?” Donghyuck rubs the back of his head, awkwardly chuckling. He tries to look around the room if there’s any clues to the occasion, and he is completely aware that it’s neither anyone he’s close to having a birthday around this time… so?

Jeno steps forward, grabbing Donghyuck’s sports equipment, placing it on the corner of the room and proceeding to take off the boy’s headband, replacing it with the same designed party hat as Jaemin’s, “You know how you reached 10k listeners the other day? Yeah, Jaemin wanted to celebrate.” 

He points to your figure, who is busy interacting with a group of first years. You look like you don’t mind the party, and he pulls the tiniest form of a smile when he sees you laughing over something the girl beside you said. The party hat on your head looks like you’ve a unicorn puked over your head. He wonders if you know how much of an idiot you look with it.

“Oh.” Donghyuck’s lips part, turning back to his two roommates, he doesn’t really know why they decide to host a party over something like this. But you know, they are college kids and uh— Jaemin will find every reason to party, even if it means celebrating the amount of clout you and him gained over the podcast.

“I swear to god, Hyuck. If you don’t show enthusiasm I will kick you out of this house.” Jaemin squints his eyes, his arms dropping, tired from holding up the banner and waiting for a decent reaction to come out of Donghyuck. Don’t be mistaken though, he’s lowkey touched by this celebration, because the boys always take the time to accomplish him with any milestone he’s reached, he’s just in awe. 

Who even knew that he had the luck to get such roommates? He’s so starstruck, to the point he can even formulate the proper words, but apparently Jaemin thinks the opposite.

“No, no. It’s wonderful, I’m just shocked.” There’s something about this that Donghyuck finds so fucking endearing after each passing second, because when he looks around the room more, he sees a small cake in the middle of the table, and if he listens closely, he can hear the speakers blaring the recordings of his podcast (but let’s be real, Donghyuck hates to hear the sound of his voice).

Donghyuck pats his friends’ back as his gesture of a thank you, and takes off his shoes slowly.

The two boys move out of the way so Donghyuck can see the commotion they’ve done. You turn away from the first years you’re talking to and do a double take when you see Donghyuck finally home from practice, and Jaemin takes this as his cue to leave, “Okay, then. We’ll be playing Monopoly in Jeno’s room if you’ll be looking for us.” 

“I won’t,” he jokes around, but when he peaks through Jeno’s bedroom and sees five more people trying to fit in there just to play that game, his words might be truer than he supposes. He cringes at the sight, before making his way to you. 

“Well you seem grumpy in this fine evening,” you call out, watching as Donghyuck approaches you with ease, giving a head nod to the people he is familiar with, and pausing to stop in front of you, “Who am I kidding, you always look grumpy.”

He gives you a look, before clearing his throat. “Y/N.”

The way he says your name stiffly makes you scrunch your nose in disgust. And Donghyuck too crunches his face in disgust when he’s up close, next to you. You reek of alcohol. But you don’t look like you're getting tipsy, maybe give it a few more minutes, but the looming smell surrounding you explains why you’re easily talking to Donghyuck. 

You hold out your bottle of alcohol and offer it to him, as if you guys are friends sharing a drink. “Here, drink this. It will help you loosen up.” The group of first-years move to a different spot in the house, maybe to get a drink from the kitchen, who knows, but for Donghyuck, he hesitantly takes the drink from you.

“Thank you.” He takes a sip from your cup, a small smile forming on your face when he doesn’t bother to hesitate — you repeat, as if you guys are friends taking a drink. You both know this won’t happen again, not unless you're sober. “Congratulations by the way, to us, that is.”

“Can you at least not sound dead when you say it?” You giggle, and Donghyuck awkwardly chuckles, chugging down another sip of the drink and facing away so you won’t study his reactions.

Donghyuck made a terrible mistake by doing that. 

Just when Donghyuck is ready to loosen up and have fun at the party dedicated to him, he sees two figures he’s been trying to avoid since senior year of high school. 

And he has no idea which one of the people in the room concluded that they have the audacity to bring these two here as their plus… two. 

Two years of not seeing them. To be specific, two years, seven months and three days, but who’s counting? Definitely not Donghyuck. 

He mutters curse words underneath his breath, and you’re too busy talking about how many streams the podcast reached and how much pride you take in doing so, but Donghyuck honestly is not listening. The second time he’s done that to you in the past month. Somewhat the same reason — or same context — because he feels so bothered looking at the sight right across from him.

Your back is facing it, continuing to ramble on and on, all while Donghyuck feels his heart just pondering just as his mind unlocks a distant memory. 

“You good?” You finally look up at his face, and realize the wrinkles on his forehead from frowning. Before Donghyuck can get further welled up by the sight, he turns right at you, and musters up the fakest smile possible. You reek of alcohol, so he hopes you don’t sense this facade he’s putting up. 

“Yeah uh, I just need to g—” his words trails off, before glance at the sight of the girl he onced loved, and once of his best friends in high school, looking at each other like they are so in love. He wants to scoff at it, he wonders if they even know that they’re doing such an act at his home. 

And he asks himself, again: who the hell invited these two?

He’s not mad. Because it doesn’t feel like his blood is boiling, instead it feels like it’s turning cold.

“What are you looking at?” As you turn your head back, curious to the cause of the boy’s suspicious behaviour, he sees the two, observing an interaction between the two that just shows that they are a happy couple before turning back to Donghyuck, who’s not fully chugging the rest of the alcohol in the cup. “I—? Um— Mark?”

“You know him?” Donghyuck looks at you, tilting his head, clearly flustered and confused. 

“Yes, he was in one of my classes last sem,” you explain to him, taking one more glance at the two, “I’m guessing that’s his girlfriend.”

The word girlfriend makes him wince. His heart tries to get accustomed to the title, and he hates how the cup in his hands is empty. He can’t drown those sorrows away. 

“Yeah…” Donghyuck sighs, he feels helpless. Which is weird, because he rarely feels helpless, and all of a sudden it’s all crashing down on him.

You can tell something is up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, grabbing the empty cup in his hand and walking towards the area with the drinks, refilling it for him because you almost feel bad.

He leans his body on the wall, amused at your observations. “Woah. Did I just hear that right?” 

“Huh?” You hand him back his cup, and he chuckles.

“Last time I checked, you don’t care about me.” He calls you out, in a light tone, not spiteful. His almond eyes continue to regard you with keen interest as you tempt yourself away from slapping his arm.

“Shut up.” You mutter angrily, but soften up to him when he spares another glance at Mark and his girlfriend. It’s the fact that he is acting like this matter isn’t making him feel some type of way, while his eyes tell a different story. 

“But really, do you want to talk about it?” Look, this will be the only time you’ll feel empathetic towards him. (It’s the alcohol in your system that makes you talk to him like this. That’s all.)

But it’s enough to make Donghyuck try to forget. He shrugs, lips forming into a thin smile. “I’m good.”

“No. You’re not.” You say as if you’re talking to a child, causing another sigh to escape his lips. The small persistent nature in you has been making Donghyuck say too much about himself to you, and he doesn’t know why he keeps on word vomiting such vulnerable parts of his life. To you. 

And he knows it’s not your pretty (cool) privilege that he has for you.

“Remember that one podcast episode, when I told you I fell in love with someone?” You nod, remembering it clearly because the idea of Donghyuck — the boy who doesn’t fall in love — actually falling in love has been living in your mind for the past few days. “I liked Yeri before, That’s Mark’s girlfriend.”

He swirls his drink, taking another aggressive chug before moving his gaze at the two. The more he keeps on glancing at them, he thinks it will make the pain less, since he’ll start getting accustomed to it. But the more he sees how in love they are — how in love his old best friend is, the pain he tries to subside doesn’t get easier. 

“Oh. I’m sorry.” He glances at you, and you try to reassure him. But he doesn’t know why you're sorry. You don’t know why you’re sorry. It’s not your fault Donghyuck's life has gone to this. He chose to love, and though he once understood how much of a beautiful thing it could be, he refuses to do so again. It’s not your fault he feels this way. It’s his. He doesn’t know why you’re saying those words.

And he doesn’t like that you’re saying those words. Because you of all people don't know how it feels to be heartbroken like this. 

He won’t despise you for it, though. After all, he once knew how it felt like, and he won’t take that away from you, nor place the negative emotions penting in his body towards you. “It’s no worries, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

If he thinks about it, he’s thankful that you’re here. It makes the fog trafficking his thoughts subtly clearer. 

And you try to change the topic. To make the atmosphere between the both of you lighter. It’s a party dedicated to a milestone you both reached, and it would be foolish if you spend the rest of the night worrying about what could have been. You pat Donghyuck’s shoulder awkwardly, yet with sentiment, and it’s enough for him to forget.

“By the way, there’s cupcakes in the refrigerator. Don’t worry, I baked it this time. If you need it, you can take the whole batch.” You gesture to the kitchen, and your head starts spinning when you take a step forward.

It’s the way you barely drink. Oh god.

“You’re being awfully kind to me,” Donghyuck looks down at your figure, taking a hold of your hand before you accidentally tip forward. It’s his first time making contact with your skin, and his heart — from being so stone cold — warms up at the thought.

“At least I’m not being a pain in the ass this time, you're welcome.” The corners of his lips tug up when you try to compose yourself. This is much better than being a heartbroken fool at your own party.

“You’re so drunk.” He grins when you swat his arm away from his hold. 

Who knew, huh.

From the corner of his eye, he can feel someone’s gaze lingering his way, but he’s too busy to notice. 

“No I’m not. I only drank half a bottle.” You argue back, trying to keep a firm stance but your voice starts to slur. As you try to explain yourself, Donghyuck takes the party hat off his head and swipes his hair back. Oh. 

“So you’re lightweight?” Though he tries to refuse the delight creeping up his way at your drunken state, Donghyuck can’t help to feel at glee, especially after seeing you just gulp down harshly, unknowingly keeping eye contact with him for longer than the normal.

You look away immediately when he smirks. “No no no. I’m alright. It will take an awful lot of effort for the alcohol to do its job, I’ll be alright.” Your words and actions say two different things, and when you take one more step, your mind suddenly faces some difficulties.

These difficulties come in the form of you almost tripping over air, and Donghyuck having to grab a hold of your wrist, you throwing your body at him, and him scoffing at you for it.

“If you say so…” He most likely drank more than you with his two complete chugged down drinks, yet here you are, looking like a complete idiot. As always. If he can, he would declare it as your brand.

“Yes. And let’s get some of my cupcakes and go play Monopoly with the others.” You finally reach the kitchen, and Donghyuck props his weight on the counter with an eyebrow raised, watching you (try to) open the fridge. 

“Who said I want to do that?” He does not want to play Monopoly with the boys in that sweaty room. 

“You want to stay here and watch those two lovebirds?” Even when you're intoxicated, you still find a way to say smart things, and Donghyuck hates that for you. He doesn’t glance back this time. 

“So… cupcakes?”

Monopoly it is.

Donghyuck moves towards you and then beside you, helping you take out the batch of cupcakes after seeing you struggle to get it yourself. The proximity makes the butterflies in your stomach do some flips, re: you’re drunk and you won’t think of this while you're sober. 

But while you’re still not-sober, you turn your head to face him, realizing your faces are inches apart from each other’s. He gives you an endearing beam, and that not-sober mind of yours makes a pact that smiling looks better on Donghyuck than a frown, and you’ll do whatever it takes to see it again.

Re: you’re drunk.

EPISODE 06: the rise of secret admirers

Lee Donghyuck does not fall in love, but maybe there could be a few exceptions.

“Okay so I will pick out our fifth love letter of the day… again, by natural selection.” You try to joke around, but your attempts to do so ends up in the trash when the boy across from you rolls his eyes. And you shoot him a sarcastic grin back at him out of impulse.

With Donghyuck, there’s bound to be endless banter from left to right, no matter how much progress the both of you made to try and cross the line between being in each other throats to finally having a decent form of friendship, all costs and efforts are lost the moment one of you open your mouths to say something to the other.

“Please. If you’re just going to laugh at me, why don’t you say something interesting instead.” You wail in frustration, throwing your rough script up in the air hopelessly. Being a comedian has never been your strong suit. “We need content. And I’m the only one giving proper content to the media.”

“Excuse me for being a prude,” Donghyuck straightens his posture on the chair, staring right at you as he speaks, “But I have made my fair share of top tier content for this podcast. You just don’t have the humor to think mine are okay.”

“No. Shut up.” You grumble.

And he puts up a taunting grin, “You’re just mad that I’m right.” He begins to tease, voice echoing with rich velvet and mirth, “And watch your language, we’re recording.”

“College kids listen to this, not elementary kids. I think I’m allowed to swear.” You fire back. There are so many things tempting to come out of your mouth, but the evident distaste in your features leave him with pure entertainment. He’s such a hypocrite, because you know that in the next few seconds, he’ll probably blurt out some foul language that is much more inappropriate than your simple ‘shut up.’

You continue to stare down at him, sending daggers at Donghyuck’s way and him easily dodging each one. 

“Just read the goddamn letter.” See? What did you say?

After that night, the night where you treated Donghyuck as if he was a friend — someone that can lean on your shoulder when times get tough, he seems to search for the version of you through the days following. But the more the both of you keep firing fire in the pit, he slowly wishes that he never associated with you in the first place. Because you are a pain.

You are so intolerable. 

He doesn’t even know why he likes you.

“Dear Romancing, I’m the friend that got called out the last time. The one that doesn’t fall in love. I don’t know, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just don’t think I’m ready.” You begin reading another letter from the pile, but this specific one causes Donghyuck to freeze. He forgot he wrote that out of impulse.

Let’s see. How shall we explain this? So to keep a long story short, he did it for a variety of reasons that absolutely make no sense, but if they had to come down to the top three, most rational, valid explanations it would be because of Jeno’s peer pressure, content for the podcast, and seeing your reaction without directly asking it from you. 

It’s like a beta; to see how you would present yourself in this type of situation, and how you’ll handle it, so Donghyuck will know what to do when he himself introduces his not-so-loving self to you. He wants to see if you can teach him to fix it.

But he can’t imagine that the letter — out of the hundred others in the mail — that this one would be the lucky draw. If he calculated correctly, then the chances of his letter being read out loud would be lower than the acceptance rate of Harvard. 

This says a lot about his fate, because if you think about it, Donghyuck is one lucky bastard.

Your eyes blink at the paper, forming sparkles as it moves across the sheet. He hopes that the look on your face is a good thing. “But there’s this girl. And even though she can be an ass sometimes, it just feels nice to be around her. But I don’t want to admit that.”

As you repeat the words written, the tone of your voice can depict your excitement. And if only the both of you were filming a Youtube Video instead of recording the podcast, the audience would be able to witness how bad your cheeks are heating up. You think it’s absolutely cute how the person sending the letter is able to find exceptions in his stance.

At the same time, the boy across from you contemplates on how oblivious you are, because there’s a complete set of puzzles set in front of you, and you still haven’t pieced any of the dots together.

“Now this is content.” You chide delightfully, enthralled that there even is a part two to this specific love-advice-story. Everybody, say thank you to Donghyuck for this.

“Damn.” He comments quietly; nibbling his bottom lip to refrain from word vomiting.

“Mr. Guy That Doesn’t Fall In Love, let me just say one thing, because I have a feeling you already know what you're feeling inside.” You beam, sitting on the edge of your office chair as you clear your throat. “If you feel happy with that girl, it’s most likely you’re making the girl happy too.”

His eyes widen. 

What the fuck.

“What type of advice is that?” When Donghyuck bursts, you look back at him with an unphased expression, shrugging at him because you know that what you said is correct.

This is not what he was expecting from you. He expected something along the lines of ‘aS a hOpeLeSs rOmAnTic, i tHinK yOu sHouLd gO fOr iT,’ then that could give him a sense of validation that falling love wouldn’t be so bad. But… this?

You tell him that you won’t say anything because you apparently know what he’s already going to say… and you end up giving him reassurance about giving each other happiness…? 

What does that even mean—!

“It’s great advice. Better than what you can think of.” You commend yourself with great honour at the piece of advice you gave; Donghyuck thinks it’s pure bull. It keeps him in place, it reminds him why he doesn’t fall in love with people because they too don’t know how to properly explain why it would be so great to do so. 

But at the same time, though he utterly, unquestionably, undoubtedly thinks that sending in this letter is such a waste of time, now that you have given him one of the worst replies — and those words only start with the letter ‘u’, there’s much more where he comes from — it still lifts some sort of weight. It did jackshit, but nevertheless, it made Donghyuck somewhat better. Just a little bit.

He feels so conflicted.

“You said something?” Donghyuck pretends to be deafened, holding up his hands to cup his ears.

“Get out of here.” You groan, attempting to ignore Donghyuck as you make an effort to give the patron the advice they are looking for, “But Mr. Guy That Doesn’t Fall In Love, if you feel something towards someone, don’t stop yourself. Don’t be like Donghyuck. Look at him now, he’s a miserable motherfucker.”

At that Donghyuck looks at you in disbelief, crescents in his eyes forming, and though he tries not to show it, he thinks that that was one of the best things you’ve said all day. Even when the ridiculing is directed to him. It made him smile.

“Cute.” 

Donghyuck’s pretty sure he said that in his mind. Not out loud. But when you look at him, taken aback, he flutters his eyes shut and wishes he can erase himself from the embarrassment. You perk up, and he knows you won’t let this off the hook.

“Thank you, I know I am.” You over-exaggerate how flattered you are, flipping your hair dramatically and straightening your posture. Deep inside, you still feel flattered, but by acting over the top, it makes it seem like your heart isn’t failing on you at this moment. But it is.

This is the art of sarcasm, and it has given you a whole lot of perks. 

“I wasn’t talking about you.” He tries to take back what he said, but it’s already engraved in your mind. 

You lean forward to the table, “Then what are you referring to as cute? The guy in the letter?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Donghyuck has reached peak humiliation, and he doesn’t know why he can’t just embrace his slip up and act like the charismatic guy he is towards other people. It’s your fault he’s like this. It’s your fault everyone will find out how whipped he is for you the moment this podcast episode goes live. 

He wonders why he can’t act normal toward you, why he can’t ever do his almost-playboy antics— but it’s you. He uses this as another opportunity to learn something about you. And it is exactly how hard it is to figure out who you really are that keeps his interest levels high. He could go whipped for any other person, he is the star soccer player on campus, but his dumbass-of-a-brain chose you. 

“Loser.” You voice out Donghyuck’s thoughts about himself. Because he’s starting to slowly admit how much of a loser he is. And it’s all your fault. 

EPISODE 7: the first-first kiss

Slowly but surely, Donghyuck starts to admit that he is going through a free fall. Well, not really a free fall because there would be air resistance — the air resistance being his metaphorical refusal that he is indeed going down. And if this version of Donghyuck told the version of him several days ago that he will one day admit this calling, past Donghyuck would not take it well.

But here he is now, grasping in the atmosphere of his defeat; he almost feels like those Ancient Gods that carry the weight of losing an important battle, but he doesn’t know which one specifically because he hasn’t taken any world history courses. 

Lee Donghyuck has hit rock bottom with his relationship with you. He is like a lost puppy, a clown embarrassing himself in his own circus, a shrivelled up leaf on the sidewalk, and every other comparable item that he can think of on the top of his head. 

So when he looks up at the ceiling, he acts as if all the answers could be found there, throwing and catching the soccer ball in his hands as he lies down on the couch as another awful sigh escapes his lips. He can hear your voice inside his head spewing out nonsense. Honestly, you’ve been living in his mind for a while now and could ask you to pay for the rent you’ve been occupying. 

He’s immersed in his own thoughts, that he has forgotten that you are actually here, and he can hear your voice. And it’s not the voice that he’s imagining. “Can you stop sighing, it’s getting annoying.” 

Donghyuck catches the ball with his hands, holding it firmly before proceeding to turn his head to your voice. When he looks at you, he’s faced with the wrath of your dead face, seeming as if you’ve been sick and tired of his noises of complaint, that he isn’t aware he’s doing. It’s the way you have your arms folded, waiting for him to do something, as you sit on the floor by the coffee table with your laptop in front of you with a bored expression that makes him sigh even louder. 

“Why are you even here?” He sits up, leaning his back on the cushions and mirroring the expression on your face, “Aren’t you done tutoring Jaemin?”

“Yeah. But is there something wrong with me staying here?” You interrogate him, and he just closes his eyes in despair. Does he want to deal with this right now? Not really. 

Here we go again. “If you’re wondering why I’m still here. I’m going to make those Dalgona Coffee things that’s everywhere on Tiktok with Jeno. I’ve been dying to make them, and Nana did not want to do them with me. He says it’s too messy—” 

You stop your rant abruptly when you realize that Donghyuck has been staring at you quietly. He’s nit-picking one of the pieces of loose thread on the throw pillow, and even listening to you, which is to your surprise.

“Oh?” He tilts his head when you quit mid-sentence, waiting for you to continue on, but instead you shake your head, shifting closer to the coffee table and typing away on your laptop.

“I went on a tangent, my bad.” You purse your lips, and you still feel the weight of his eyes directed towards your face. 

He feels his heart soften at how casual you are just seconds ago. All while you feel hues of crimson taint your cheeks, bashful at your passionate ramble about coffee. “And you didn’t try to ask me?”

You tilt your head up, eyes churning to see Donghyuck with a grin on his face, which causes you to furrow your eyebrows, “Because you’re going to say no?”

“You never know. I could’ve joined you.” You’re pretty sure this is all talk; last time you checked, you and Donghyuck never did something together voluntarily. 

“But knowing you, if you did join me, I would’ve probably thrown all the ingredients at you in less than five minutes because you would make me mad. Plus, Jeno seems like he’s actually down to do them with me. You’d probably feel forced to do it.” You take note that you’re rambling again, and you want to slap your forehead for it.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep kicking in your system, because that always has been bringing you to do this you won’t usually do on the norm (I.e. talking to Donghyuck properly), of course other than drinking alcohol, that also makes you do weird shit. 

But you're making the coffee with Jeno later in the evening, most likely around 11pm, since he needs to use the caffeine to stay up for his Marketing assignment. That’s still in a few hours, though.

“Wait. Do you perhaps have any fever patches?” You shut your laptop and ask. 

Donghyuck is taken aback by it, eyes slightly bulging out of his head from worry (but you don’t know that), “Are you sick?”

“No,” you trail off, rubbing the back of your head meekly, “I’m just getting really sleepy and I need to stay awake.” You don’t explain further to him, you don’t need to. But he finds that there’s a certain level of oddity at your proposition. 

Remembering that one kdrama Jaemin indulged in around a year ago — where the guy placed a fever patch on his forehead during a midnight study session, because the coolness kept the guy awake — Donghyuck nods in acquiesce, not bothering to question if those things actually work. 

That’s probably why Jeno once bought a whole stash of them one time, “Okay, lemme get them. I’m sure there’s some in the bathroom.” He gets up and pats down his shirt before proceeding to get the fever patches.

You fidget and tap on the surface of the desk while waiting for Donghyuck to come back, yawning shamelessly and shaking your head furiously to remove all the sleepy jitters trying to crawl your skin. From your periphery, you can see him coming back with a fresh box of the item you asked, speculating it before diverting his eyes to you.

He stops in front of you, kneeling down to level himself alongside and letting you watch as he rips open the packaging. “Oh. Thanks.” You try to grab it from him, but he pulls his arm back.

Wait, what.

As you try to grab the fever patch from him, he preps it and holds the edges of the square with both his hands, making sure he doesn’t touch the sticky part. “I’ll put it on you.”

“There’s no need— oh.” Donghyuck shifts his weight, leaning forward as he takes off the grasp of one side of the patch to tuck your hair back behind your ear. Your breath hitches when you take note that his body is inches away from yours. 

He delicately swipes back more strands of hair before aligning the patch straight on your forehead, rubbing it with his thumb softly to ensure it won’t fall off. You look up at him, seeing that he’s focused on putting it properly. This is probably the closest you’ve seen Donghyuck.

“I must say, you don’t look that bad up close.” You comment, Donghyuck feeling your breath hit his skin, and his lips twitch up. The way you’re studying him gives him the sole reason why the butterflies are fluttering in his stomach.

“It’s good that you know that, Princess.” He smirks, finally mustering up the courage to bolden up, just to cover up the fact that he is clearly flustered at where you both are positioned. He wonders where this energy has gone a few days ago.

“Not the nickname again.” You cry, letting out a huff before pushing him away from you. He’s still sitting in front of you, and there’s an evident glint in his eye. “Nevermind what I said earlier, sometimes your face looks very punchable.”

“Oh, really?” He tests you, lifting up one of his eyebrows. 

“Yes. Really.” You squeak, looking down at the carpet with a smile, but as your gaze diverts back to him, you can suddenly feel a lump in your throat when he looks right back at you. His eyes pierce into you, as if he’s searching for something in the stars of your own set, “Donghyuck, what are you doing?”

You awkwardly clear your throat. 

“Looking at you.” He says straightforwardly, and the way he’s still looking at you sends shivers down your back. Donghyuck notices the effect it has, and it makes the crescent of his lip more apparent, “Why? Am I not allowed to?”

“It feels weird.” You reply truthfully, wanting to bury your head in a hole or maybe run to the opposite end of the country just to avoid this contact. It’s leaving brushes of shimmer against your skin, and you don’t particularly know how to feel about it.

“May I know why it feels weird?” He waits for an answer, so confidently, as if he wants to challenge you. 

“You better stop what you're doing.” As you warn him, it only makes him more satisfied, more bold.

“But you said I don’t look bad up close.” There’s a tone of mockery enlaced in his voice, trying to reach and copy the same tone of your voice, only to end up pitches higher as he pouts. The way Donghyuck’s eyeing your lips don’t go unnoticed and your eyes unknowingly rests on his as well, “Don’t tell me you regret saying it. That would be unlike you.”

“Shut. Up.” You say through gritted teeth, looking at him through your lashes as your heart continues to beat rapidly. It’s so intense, you swear if Donghyuck is paying attention to it, he would be able to hear it synchronizing with his own heart. 

He looks back up at your eyes, only to catch you staring at his lips.

“Make me.”

Before neither of you can take back the situation, his lips smash against yours.

You don’t even know who decided to finish the act, whether it be you or him, because he asked you to do it, but you don’t know if Donghyuck was impatient and just did it a millisecond before you. But there are goosebumps rising on your skin when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss; his lips finding solace in yours, it just feels so sweet. 

You don’t even know if you're doing it correctly, but Donghyuck makes it so that your stomach knots harder and unravels quickly again, a bloom blooming throughout your chest as you relax under his touch. 

If he’s being honest, he’s always associated a pair’s first kiss as something so over romanticized. Because he’s never felt that way before. And he would always scoff at the idea of first kisses feeling like fireworks or warm vanilla. He doesn’t know how to describe this one. But he knows it feels right. 

Donghyuck doesn’t fall in love, but if this, if this is what it feels like to fall in love; the one that you won’t ever shut up about, then maybe he wouldn’t mind it at all.

Because maybe he’s growing fond of the idea. 

EPISODE 8: shoot your shot

“And there we have it, Lee Donghyuck scores another goal!”

HOME: 1 | VISITORS: 1

Neither of you talk about The Incident for the next few days and you’re thankful Donghyuck doesn’t taunt you for it nor bring it up. If you think about it, it might be better this way. It’s just as if that distinct memory you shared with Donghyuck by the coffee table banished right after it happened, and you blame it for your sleep deprivation that it even happened because having lack of sleep should be able to make you irrationally kiss the boy you would never think of kissing. Yeah. Totally.

At least Jaemin, or Jeno, did not see whatever that was. If they did, you would’ve hid in the closet for the rest of your lifetime. But they didn’t. And that’s all that matters. 

Which is why when the two boys drag you to one of Donghyuck’s soccer games — as their means of being supportive to their roommate, as well as to drag you out of your dorm to get some sunlight — they don’t act differently towards you, and they don’t interrogate you about the status of your relationship with Donghyuck. Because they don’t know what happened. 

Unbeknownst to Donghyuck, he doesn’t know that you will watch his game. Especially since you never even bother to participate in watching any of the sports games held around campus, so he believes that he has the liberty act however he pleases, just because a specific pair of eyes, that belong to you, isn’t watching him. And it’s doing him hella justice. 

Or so he thinks.

“He looks so cool.” Jeno says through the food he’s eating, leaning forward on his seat to get a better view of the game while there are spots of ketchup and mustard left on the corner of his lip from the hotdog.

You raise your head to get a better view of Donghyuck, finally spotting him as his brown locks are pulled back by a headband as he jogs from one end of the field to the other. His tongue is slightly sticking out as he runs with the ball, eyes following it attentively and glancing up to see where his opponents are going.

As you carefully take a bite of your hotdog, you focus your periphery on the main action on the field, seeing the ball fly up in the air towards Donghyuck’s direction, before it lands on the ground a few metres away from his foot. You realize that there aren't a lot of people with the ball other than Donghyuck, and when he sprints to it, there are multiple opposing players trying to take the ball away from him or stopping him from getting closer to the ball.

He slides past them like it’s such an easy feat to do so, and the crowd goes wild when Donghyuck makes a successful long-distance pass, kicking it to one of his teammates before it reaches the other team’s goal.

“Oh my god, did you see that?” Jaemin stands up next to you in excitement, turning momentarily to see your reactions with an awe-struck one laid on his face. 

“Yes, Nana. We saw it.” You chuckle, shaking your head with a smile before shifting at your spot once more to find the best view to the game, since there are so many heads in front of yours and the three of you came to the stadium with half the seats already filled.

As you jerk your head to follow the ball, you see the backs of two familiar figures, pointing at the game and clapping just like everybody else is. 

“Is that Mark and his girlfriend? Over there, look.” You point your lips to the two, nudging Jeno’s side so he can look at where you are looking. He snaps his neck and widens his eyes when he recognizes Mark and Yeri.

He then turns to you in question, “Yeah. What about them?”

“I don’t know. Donghyuck told me something before.” You shrug, lifting your shoulders. 

“Wait. He told you?” Jeno purses his lips, before a knowing smile slowly forms in his face, thinking the most out of the situation. “I didn’t know you were close like that.”

“I don’t think we are? It was a one time thing.” You answer honestly, a nervous chuckle coming out of your throat as you avoid the way Jeno is staring down at you. He scoffs in disbelief, and when Jaemin is finished cheering, he sits back down and joins the conversation, leaning his body to hear what you two are saying.

“I’m surprised that it’s only a one time thing, since you guys have been spending a lot of time together the past few weeks.” Jeno confesses, which makes Jaemin nod furiously as he adds on. “I think you’ve been spending more time with him than me.”

Your gaze shifts back and forth at the two boys, tongue tied because you don’t know how to reply to that. The fact that they are stating this out of the blue, in the middle of a freaking soccer game, makes you want to cough out the hotdog you're eating. 

They might be right about that, how you’ve been spending the past few weeks a little more than your liking with Donghyuck; but them of all people should know that you’re only doing so because of reasons that include everything along the lines of ‘podcast assignment’ or ‘mutual friends’. 

Your heart races at the idea, and when you can feel Jaemin and Jeno waiting for your next move, you suddenly just want to break out in cold sweat. 

What makes you even more terrified, is that you’ve only realized now that you stopped complaining about Donghyuck to Jaemin. 

“Go, Hyuck!” The girls sitting behind you scream out loud, causing you to flinch while the two boys jerk their heads to see why the crowd is suddenly getting hyped up. You let out a huff of relief when they finally quit the curiosity towards your relationship with Donghyuck, and now moved to the game instead. 

But your half-second calmness is immediately replaced with a new problem.

Because as you decide to see the commotion, and why everyone is starting to cheer for the captain (yet, again), his eyes land where you are sitting. He notices you. He looks down at the ball for a second before turning back to you, and it causes you to freeze at your spot.

Everyone around you is cheering loudly, some of them even standing up from their position in enthusiasm. Donghyuck grins smugly and looks back at you, pointing his index finger in your direction that has several fellow watchers trying to find who he was exactly pointing to. Your cheeks start to heat up when Jaemin’s jaw drops and looks at you in disbelief.

“Holy shit. Donghyuck has never done that before. You saw that, right?” Jaemin says in excitement, his lips curving up the slightest as it replays in his mind. “Y/N. What the fuck. He’s fucking flirting with you.”

Oh no.

“He was just pointing at me. I don’t know what that means.” You lie. You have an idea what it means, but trying to admit it will only make you feel even more flustered, so it’s better that you avoid it and play dumb.

“He just straight up dedicated his next shot to you. Come on, Y/N. Did you not find that cute?” Jaemin tries to get something out of you, but you don’t bulge; your eyes are still on the game, Donghyuck gets the goal in and the yells from around you helps you ignore the crazy thumping in your chest.

Yes you find it cute. Nobody’s ever done that to you before. Donghyuck’s never done that to you before. Now shut up before you start feeling some type of way.

“Oh, please. He’s probably done this to other girls. It’s not that serious.” You shake your head, trying to get your mind out of the gutter. You’re trying to remember that Donghyuck and you still despise each other, but you begin to take knowledge of the little things that are changing in this relationship. 

“I’d beg to differ.” Jeno smirks, leaning back in his seat with amusement taunting his iris’. You turn your head with a frown. 

“Shut up, let’s just watch this game.” Jeno laughs, shaking his head at your denial. 

“What if Donghyuck likes you?” Jaemin gasps at the sudden idea he’s thought of, proud at the on-the-go assumption he’s made, while you look at him disappointingly. “Come on. Don’t give me that look. It was like he was dedicating his next score for you.”

“Jaemin.” You warn him, and he lets out a giggle. 

“Look at that. Someone’s blushing.” Jeno pokes your shoulder teasingly. You should’ve never allowed them to bring you to the game if this is what they were going to do.

“Jeno.” You say through gritted teeth, and you don’t miss the way the two boys bump their fist together behind you.

“So you like him.” They say as a statement instead of a question. You wonder why they are so convinced you like him, because you haven’t done anything to make them think in such a way. Well, unless Donghyuck told them about the kiss— if he did, you would whoop his ass. You suddenly think back to the time Jaemin noted to you that you and Donghyuck seem to have ‘chemistry’ while recording the podcast, and you don’t know if he’s taken those words to heart.

“I don’t like him. And he doesn’t like me. It’s as simple as that.” You make an attempt to sound strong and firm, but your words come out as a mere squeak. 

If anything, you’d like to say Donghyuck has turned into a friend. That’s only if you’re willing to call him such, because the past few weeks prove to you that he really isn’t as bad as you suppose. But you don’t like him, you swear. Maybe.

“If you say so.” They drop the conversation, since there’s still a game you have to focus on.

You don’t even understand why you’re getting affected by this; last time you checked, you and Donghyuck don’t share the same values. He doesn’t fall in love. And you want to fall in love. But if you fall in love with someone who doesn’t, then it won’t do you any good. But what if he’s changed? But what if—

“30 seconds on the clock.” 

The commentary snaps you back into present time, a quirk of an eyebrow while you flick your eyes to the scoreboard makes you realize that both teams are on another tie. 

HOME: 3 | VISITORS: 3

“Oh shit.” You hear Jaemin curse, moving his butt closer to the edge of the chair while he grasps on his hotdog tighter. You too, feel the rate of your heart quicken. 

“Here comes Lee Donghyuck with the ball—”

Fixated on his figure, your able to follow where Donghyuck is moving with the bolded #1 on his jersey, seeing that he’s running towards the ball with all his might, zipping through all his opponents and flashing through the grass like lightning. A player with a different coloured jersey starts to run beside him, and it cues Donghyuck to pick up his pace. Everything is getting intense, and Donghyuck starts to grow in desperation after every passing second just so he can touch the ball and kick it to the net. 

Jeno’s holding the handle of the chair like his life is on the line, muttering in hushed whispers ‘you better get this one, idiot’ and you want to laugh. But you have no time to laugh. 

“Finally!” Jaemin shouts when Donghyuck gets a hold of the ball after failed attempts prior, kicking it to the other side of the field where the goal was. Every student who is rooting for the team is now standing in excitement, ready to cheer if Donghyuck delivers the winning point. Since he’s captain, though you might now want to acknowledge so, you believe that he can do it. 

It’s not until he moves closer to the opposing side’s goal, moving past the defence players and slipping in between the gaps as they try to take the ball away from him. Donghyuck uses his footwork to keep the ball to himself, and your fists subconsciously turn white at how it’s clenched.

Donghyuck looks at where he’s trying to shoot, doing his best to break the tie and win this game. In a millisecond, he swings his leg back and kicks the ball with just the right amount of energy, causing it to fly before it stops at the net.

“There we have it. The winning shot from none other than the captain himself!”

The commentator tries to scream the stats louder than the noise in the crowd, but everyone is busy screaming in glee, Jaemin and Jeno included as they almost throw their food up in the air from all the exhilaration. Jeno claps his hands, and Jaemin hollers. As for you, you let out the biggest breath, not realizing how apprehensive you’ve become.

A soft giggle elicits from your throat as you watch Donghyuck run through the field haphazardly, his teammates scurrying over to him to engulf him in hugs and pats. And you feel at ease. 

When Donghyuck takes off his headband, wiping the sweat off his head with his arm. He takes a sharp inhale, and eyes going off to search the crowd, immediately stopping when they meet yours in the crowd. There’s so much screaming from the crowd, but you hear bells. You hear bells ringing through your ears and everything about this just feels too good to be true. 

He ignores the pushes and shoves from his teammates when his gaze is at yours, and it’s just as if time has stopped just for you to share this moment with him. You give him a smile, a small-thumbs up, and he reciprocates the act, making your heart set off into a rocket.

“So, what’d you think about your first game you watched?” Jaemin asks, “Is it good?” The thing is, you don’t need to say anything for them to know what you're feeling.

“It’s… okay…” And both Jeno and Jaemin know that you’re lying. Your eyes are telling them it’s more than okay. In fact, by the looks of it, they can tell you won’t be needing your Tinder app anymore. 

The two share a knowing look at each other when you continue to look back at Donghyuck, a whole galaxy painted in your eyes. If only you can acknowledge them.

EPISODE 9: meet-cute (and puppies) 

There’s a shift. 

You can just sense it. 

Or perhaps, you can’t only just sense it, but you know it. And you know it because you have never looked at Donghyuck in that way before. Not in a way where you seem like you're looking for something in him: something specific but not knowing exactly what it is. 

For the most part, this acquired proposition doesn’t completely impact your relationship with him: there’s still the occasional banter from one end to the other, and his continuous foolish acts still makes your skin boil, but now, the way you act around him, when it’s only the both of you in the room, is more tense.

And not the good kind of tension.

 “Hey, are you okay?” Donghyuck says softly, his eyes showing worry when he’s caught you lacking and staring off at a random spot in the room for the past few minutes. 

Your eyes avert to him, and you swear, it feels much weirder to look at him straight in the eye. It doesn’t feel natural. It feels like you’re hiding something from him, but you don’t know what it is in Donghyuck that’s making you feel this specific, new way towards him.

Nowadays, you feel yourself holding back when you converse with him. It takes you an unusual amount of willpower to not all of a sudden worry about the way you speak to Donghyuck. He’s supposed to be one of the people you have no filter for, to be yourself and not worry about what he thinks. But it really doesn’t feel the way you want it to be at the moment.

He waves his hand across your face, causing you to get your mind off your daydream and you give him a faint smile of reassurance before sitting up straight. “Yeah, I’m good.” You clear your throat, adjusting your headset and placing your face closer to the microphone, muttering an apology.

You can still feel Donghyuck’s stare on you. You’re unable to meet his eyes without panicking, which is why you avoid looking at his figure. 

This shift is making you shift on your seat uncomfortably.

“Your shoulders are tense. We can’t have you breaking cold sweat now.” Donghyuck notices the tension in the air, trying to fix it by calling you out and chuckling it off. But everything comes off as awkward. A disconcerting feeling starts to stir in the pit of your stomach, so you take a deep breath and try to forget that Donghyuck is in the room.

Just pretend you're talking to someone else. Absolutely. This is going to work out perfectly if you act like it isn’t your crush that’s right in front of you. Wait— holy shit you did not just say crush. 

“Right.” You yelp, and flick your leg to stop acting like a total fool. Donghyuck just stares at you suspiciously, before he suddenly grabs the notebook where your podcast ideas are written down and pretends to not notice the strained atmosphere. He gets ready to talk, pressing the resume button on the recording and your shoulders drop in ease that he total focus isn’t on you anymore.

“Anyways, I’ll be the one introducing this week’s topic.” he brings himself closer to the mic as he looks up at the ceiling, trying to formulate and visualize the proper words to say. He looks really pretty. “I think it’s my first time introducing the topic… huh.”

“It’s about time,” you mumble, blushing when you feel the sudden weight of his gaze. He gives you a warm smile when you're finally trying to talk to him properly, and it makes things seem much easier to do so.

“Okay, okay. Here we go.” He says excitingly, and your wariness slowly fades away; the bliss he’s giving you when he gives you a knowing look that reminds you that you both are going to talk about a topic you’ve been dying to discuss in the podcast. Donghyuck checks off that topic from your list as he talks, “We’re going to be talking about meet-cute incidents. A topic that has been on our list of discussions for a while now. But we only decided to talk about it now for one specific reason:”

He gestures for you to continue on. He sends you a message through telepathy on what to say, and you hold back a grin suddenly remembering why you and Donghyuck decided to make this your theme this week. Because of Jaemin. The boy across from you feels his heart blossoming when you start easing up in the room. 

It’s like the saying, ‘seeing you happy makes me happy,’ in this case, that form comes in you.

“We have this friend, and when he came back home from his volleyball practice, he brought home a dog that he picked up on the sidewalk because apparently the owner couldn’t be found. At first, we thought that the dog had rabies so we told him to kick the dog out, but he insisted on finding the owner.” You start to talk about Jaemin’s incident from earlier this week, and Donghyuck finds that the small giggle coming out of your mouth is very pretty. “Next thing you know, the owner comes and picks up their dog. And our friend just looked so starstruck when he opened the door.”

Here’s the thing: you’re pretty good at sharing stories about other people in your circle without spilling out their names, and although most people know and associate you with Jaemin and might have an idea that this story is about him, you still do not mention his name for many reasons. But at least it gives a mysterious element in the story, because they wouldn’t officially consider that you are talking about him unless you straight up announce it. 

You try to stop yourself from smiling at the memory too hard, picturing how Jaemin looked when he met the owner of the puppy for the first time, because minutes after the puppy is gone, he either wouldn’t shut up about how cute the owner looked, or would just start grinning to himself at the small memory. You, Donghyuck, and Jeno saw him almost trip on his foot once because of how distracted he’s gotten. 

“I never seen him with that look before. It looks nice on him.” Donghyuck laughs wholeheartedly, neither of you getting slightly worried that Jaemin will come screaming at you for telling his story to the podcast. But again, you did not say his name. And if anything, you can drag Donghyuck down with you if Jaemin does get mad.

“It does.” You agree with him, and he throws his head back in bemusement before huffing a sigh of content.

“To the person who picked up their dog from our friend. This is our love letter to you. Our friend is probably whipped for you now.” Donghyuck does his job as a love advisor, but this time, a matchmaker too, “Last time we talked to him — which was a few hours ago, he couldn’t stop blushing while doing his calculus assignment.”

You’re happy for your best friend, you really are, but the more you see romance happening all around you, from the podcast to now your best friend, your mind goes back to asking when you’ll have that moment as well. Because you, of all people, have been waiting patiently for your turn.

“I wonder when I’ll have my meet-cute moment,” you say out loud, and it perks up Donghyuck’s interest.

He wonders if you remember the first time you met him.

“You know, when I first heard the term 'meet-cute’, I thought it meant that you’re meeting a really cute person for the first time.” This makes you giggle. You nod at him, agreeing because you thought the same thing as him when you first heard of this term. “But it isn’t necessarily that.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Yeah…”

You clear your throat. “Okay, I’ll get started with the love letters. Donghyuck, pick one from the pile and give it to me.” Grabbing the basket with all the letters you place on the table in front of Donghyuck, as he picks one out, there’s something about the way he looks up at you; it makes your body feel as if it’s zapped by electricity. He’s barely doing anything to make you feel like this, but it almost makes you dizzy — like the blood is rushing hard around your head. 

“Here.” He takes one and gives it to you, your hands momentarily brushing which makes your whole body jolt. A warm tingling feeling courses to your own fingertips, and you wonder how holding his hand would feel like. 

“Thank you.” You mumble bashfully, your cheeks painted with scarlet hues as you try to open the letter. When you unfold the piece of paper, you are meeted with a full page, and you look up at Donghyuck, widening your eyes. “Oh. This one’s a long letter.”

He chuckles, and leans back on his chair, as you start reading. 

There is a shift. You can sense it. But for some odd reason, you’re starting to let it grow on you.

“Dear Romacing…”

EPISODE 10: professor’s matchmaking services

If there is one (1) professor that has been bearable throughout your years as a college student, it would be Professor Dae. And you have a variety of supporting evidence to why you picked her.

For one, she too is a hopeless romantic and will rave over classic love stories she’s stumbled on through Netflix with you. Professor Dae allowed you to email her some Kdrama recommendations, throwing the professionality aside and even giving you five minutes of time after the lecture just to talk about it with her. It’s lovely. Dae is lovely.

And she also likes mint chocolate chip ice cream— though, she seemed more like a caramel ice cream lover. But when after hearing that fact about her during the icebreakers on the first day of school, you knew that you would get along with her easily, because unlike all the others that think mint chocolate chip ice cream tastes like toothpaste, there’s someone you know that finally has a good set of taste buds.

You love your professor just as much as you love your romance films and mint chocolate chip, but after the stunt she pulled, where she made you and Donghyuck partners for this project, she became one of the teachers in your list of ‘watch-out -for-next-semester’ professors. 

“So, how’s the projects going along?” She looks around the classroom, blazer and suit in check, clasping her hands sweetly with a warm smile and her overly large glasses looming over her face when she turns to face you. “Donghyuck? Y/N?”

You freeze when you hear your name, shifting your gaze away from the powerpoint slide filling the window in your laptop, and turning to see everybody in the class looking at you in anticipation. Professor Dae notices you trying to tiny yourself in your spot, and she chuckles. 

“I’ve been hearing a lot from yours. Care to share a little bit with the class before we start our lesson?” She raises her eyebrows, she’s not offering you to share what’s happening in your project, she’s making you share what’s happening in your project. Professor then moves her head to look at Donghyuck, who is seated on the same row as you as she coughs aggressively, making him turn up in surprise. 

“You don’t have to share if you don’t feel comfortable.” You have to share whether you feel comfortable or not. 

You and Donghyuck give each other a look from across the lecture hall before turning back to Dae.

“It’s been good…” you clasp your lips together, your cheeks heating up from all the attention. “...We’ve been getting a lot of… exposure.” 

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen, though little do you know, Professor Dae already listens to your podcast (look, she listens to all her students podcasts, there’s no favouritism here). And she knows what has been happening, at this point it’s just playing the oblivious role. “It’s that good?”

“Well, I’d like to think it is. But there’s probably more arguments in the podcast than actual advice.” You can feel yourself beaming like a complete fool, in front of everyone that’s watching you, and potentially Donghyuck too, which is super risky. But he doesn’t notice because he himself is grinning behind his laptop screen, scared that you’ll catch him.

Professor Dae bites back a simper.

“I’m excited to listen to it.” She claps once, enthusiasm radiating through her words that gets a couple of students to laugh. “Especially since you two would always get into arguments here. I’m surprised you two haven’t gotten along yet.”

Your eyes widen, shy to respond while your tongue gets stuck in your mouth, unable to tell any of them you did start getting along with Donghyuck just recently, but you’re too afraid to admit it. You’d expect Dae to move on and discuss with another student about their communication assignment, since you’ve stopped talking and moved on to continue reading the Powerpoint slides, but apparently she’s not done.

“Well…” She waits in anticipation, but you have no idea what she’s referring to.

“Well—?”

Oh. 

Oh.

So she does want you to correct her.

“We’ve gotten a little bit closer? I think?” You don’t sound as confident as you intend to, because the mere idea of getting closer to Donghyuck, and tipping over that relationship that consists of you despising each other to tip over to friendship, makes your gut, mind and heart ricochet right before your eyes.

You turn to his direction, seeing if he will correct you and say that you both are still what you were at the beginning of the podcast, but when he looks at you, he sends you a subtle grin, as he nods hesitantly.

Professor Dae snickers, face livelier than ever, “Then that’s nice to hear. It’s about time that happened.” She shakes her head, and finds a new group to taunt.

Hold up.

EPISODE 11: there’s just something about you

Donghyuck’s mind is engulfed by you. 

And it means a lot coming from him.

When you sit across from him across the recording studio, he feels like the luckiest man alive that Professor decided to partner you up with him. There are plenty of victories he can acknowledge that happened during his college life — the notable ones including his numerous wins during his soccer games — but this one feels special in it’s own way. There’s triumph in this sense, and his mind can’t simply phantom why he particularly feels this way around you.

But he finds solace in it. He finds solace whenever he sees your eyes from crescents over the smallest things, whenever you try to hold back that smile of yours, whenever you pout or frown over something stupid he says. 

He’s always enjoyed the attention from you, the way you banter with him because you're not like the other ones who easily let him into their lives. But the very moment you showed him the other side of you, the side he didn’t think you would ever give him, you make it feel like it’s a dandelion wisp, something so fragile that he’s scared he would never see it ever again.

It feels so beautiful and painful in every way, and Donghyuck didn’t know he would ever have the capacity to hold such emotions for you. 

“So, we’re nearing the finale.” You note out of the blue in the middle of the podcast, “How do you feel?”

He remembers when you both were so done after the first episode, but after all the things you’ve been through, he can genuinely say that he will miss this. “Delighted. I don’t have to talk to you as much anymore, and we can go back to our separate ways and ignore each other.” He jokes around, it’s all shown in the way his eyes sparkle.

“Fuck you, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I’d love that.” 

And maybe. Just maybe. You're going to miss Lee Donghyuck; questionably humbled soccer player, decent podcast co-host, not so charismatic and more awkward boy, and the boy who’s somehow entered your heart in the weirdest way possible.

“This will be our last week of accepting letters, so get everything in while we’re still here. We won’t be having a Season 2.” It leaves you with a bittersweet taste in your tongue saying these words. You’re going to miss this, but you don’t think you’ll be able to tolerate spending another series of sleepless nights just to edit and think of ideas. Yeah the clout is cool, but it has drained you out a lot. 

“We have reached the end of this week’s recording, so a reminder to hit that five star rating and tweet to us your thoughts of this episode.” You start to sound like those Youtubers that shamelessly promote their content, and it makes Donghyuck’s lips curve up to a grin. You sigh, confessing your thoughts, “I’ll miss this.” 

“No you won’t, you’ll be thrilled we’re done with this. No more pulling all-nighters to do the editing.” He says in a sing-song tone, and you place your hand by your heart in faux pain. 

“That was so uncalled for.” You sneer at him wittily, and as much as you can agree with him, you don’t like the way he’s bluntly saying it for the world to hear. Who knows. Maybe Professor will take off part marks for saying that.

“Okay but I think I’ll miss this too.” When you turn back to Donghyuck, his features soften; the words escaping him simmer in the silence between you, and you never could have imagined that things would end up like this. That you both would actually be at a level where you’ll feel weird going back to the lives you had before Professor brought you together. 

And you press the stop button. Sighing, full of contentment and giving Donghyuck an air fist-bump, in which he gives back through tired eyes.

You take off your headset and gather your bag from under the desk, standing up from the chair and slinging your backpack around your arms, clutching it tightly as you get ready to get out of the room.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asks while you get ready, he’s still sitting down, watching as you move and scurry along the recording studio. 

“Nah, I’m good. I’m meeting up with an old friend in that Korean Barbecue place in thirty minutes.” You play with the strings of your backpack as you reply to him, standing awkwardly by the exit. He stands up, 

“Should I drop you off there, then?”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you’ll be fine, “It’s okay. Thank you, though.” But he looks at you as if there’s so many things drowning his mind, like there’s so much more of the unspoken words that you share. For some reason, you want to say yes to his question, just so you can spend just a few more minutes with him. 

When you turn your heel and turn the door knob, you hear Donghyuck quickly clutching on his keys, the metal clinging furiously as his chair pulls back. 

“Wait, Y/N.” He hurries to your side, and next thing you know, you can feel his fingers wrapped around your wrist. You give it a glance, and you suck in a deep breath, your heart dead struck at from his touch. 

“What is it?” You whisper, doubting your own voice. 

“I— I need to tell you something...” His voice trails off, and you turn back around so you can see his face, which is inches apart from yours. Donghyuck’s nerves wrack together as he finds the right way to say what he’s been dying to tell you for the last few days, and when you look at him so patiently, so lovingly, he thinks it’s no better time to tell you but now. “I think I might’ve caught feelings for you.”

There’s a grace period that happens immediately after, the delicacy of his hold starting to tremble as he waits for an excruciating amount of time to hear if you feel the same way or not. He hopes he has a chance, he hopes he’s just not misinterpreting everything that happens, and you as well felt the same spark he felt. It’s like his heart is getting ripped out of his chest, and though you don’t mean to, you might’ve broken him as you say your next words.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that?” You know why you don’t want to admit how you feel about him just yet. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can believe you.” 

“You can’t?” He releases his hold. 

“I’m sorry…” But it’s not that you're scared of him, no, you feel everything but that. But there’s just stopping you from telling him now. You don’t think it’s the right moment. There’s a glint flickering your iris’, a heavy burden that makes you want to believe that Donghyuck does feel the same way about you, but he said he doesn’t fall in love. And it’s hard to believe that someone who doesn’t want to have those feelings suddenly gains them in a span of weeks.

There’s a reason why Donghyuck teaches you to be realistic at times, and these are one of the circumstances where you have to. 

“B-but I like you.”

The way his body is sending you the message makes you want to believe him. Because heck, you like, really really really feel the same way. But now that you’re able to finally accept what it feels like falling in love, you’re almost terrified at the idea. You’re scared that Donghyuck is just saying that because this was the first time he felt something different, or if he sincerely feels that way toward you. 

“Then— then prove it to me, I guess.” You tell him, and this makes Donghyuck feel his body that was slowly falling, earning its wings. “I don’t know if I should trust your words, when just weeks ago, you told me, and everyone that listens to our podcast, that you don’t fall in love.” 

And he thinks your words are valid. It’s the way you're giving him a chance that keeps him up his toes. And he knows you’re not purposely playing hard to get, because that game has already been going on since the day you met him. “So what do I do when I prove it?”

You place your hands on his shoulders with a small grin painting your lips, before opening the door. “Do it first. Then I’ll tell you what I’ll do after.”

“Is this a challenge?” 

“I don’t know. Is it?”

For some reason, even though it should feel like you indirectly rejected him, he still feels like there is hope. After all, you did not completely shut him down.

EPISODE 12: let’s fall in love

Donghyuck does not know how to ‘prove it’. If he’s being real, he does not know what that statement even means, but after talking it out with the only person who seems to wholeheartedly understand him, also known as his roommate: the Lee Jeno, he’s been given a good pep talk and decent advice to what he should do. 

It is the exact reason why he’s gone through with his plans right after his soccer practice just so he can tell you. You asked him to prove it, and he will do just that.

He’s panting at your front door, not because he’s exhausted, because everyone knows he has way too much stamina to feel out of breath from just running to your place for a good three minutes. But instead, it’s him standing at your front door, already knocked at the piece of wood with his practice uniform that makes him feel as if he’s ready to give his heart on a platter in any form he can. 

You open your door, wearing one of your worn out high school club shirts and flamingo pyjamas, hair tousled and mix-match socks, and Donghyuck still thinks you're absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes almost bulge out, bewildered at the fact that Donghyuck is standing in front of you at an hour you don’t expect him to. “Woah— what are you doing here?”

“You asked me to prove it to you. So I’m doing it right now.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so straightforward with it, but as he collects all the courage he can muster up so he can talk to you, he believes that this is his one and only chance to make things right. Everything about this feels so right. The drink he's holding, that you still don’t notice, still feels so right.

“Okay,” your face perks up. His attempt at doing this makes you laugh. It’s airy. Light. Saccharine. And it gives Donghyuck hope. So much hope. It gives him hope that love is worth it. “How so?”

“Here.” He holds up the drink in front of you, and you look at it with furrowed eyebrows. “Does this remind you of anything?”

“It’s bubble tea.” 

He gives off a single nod, eyes flickering at the same time you look at him in concern, blinking repeatedly, causing Donghyuck to close his lips shut, refraining himself from the crescents tempting to form his lips. It’s just a simple drink. Taro bubble tea. You don’t know why he’s giving it to you.

“It’s how I first met you.” He beams, simpering when you turn speechless. “You said you wanted a meet-cute moment, maybe I can help you remember ours.”

This alarms a strange, familiar tightening in your chest.

“Donghyuck…”

“We met at the bubble tea shop near the library. Jaemin wanted to introduce his best friend to us for the first time, and he was pretty excited and told us all about you. Then you enter the shop with the warmest smile on your face, and I remember feeling so ecstatic seeing you.” He takes a deep breath, and he doesn’t remove the contact he has with your eyes. If he only can, he would choose to be lost in them for an infinity. 

And it makes you burst through the seams, letting him take your hand and hold the drink. 

“But then when we got our orders, my drink accidentally spilt all over your shirt. And you got so mad at me after that because the purple stuff is now stained on that shirt.” He chuckles, looking down at what you're holding, then back to your face. “You hated me so much after that, and the debates we had in class didn’t make it better.”

“That was not a meet-cute.” You tell him the truth, it’s probably a meet-messy more than a meet-cute, but no matter what it is, the idea of Donghyuck even remembering this keeps your cheeks vividly flaring and fingers quaking. He fucking remembers. 

You look at him gently, sharing a comforting moment through the borderline of your dorm and the hallway. 

“Yes, it was.” Donghyuck begins to groan, “It was the first time I felt hopeful. After what happened in high school.”

You study the drink amusingly. You can’t believe you, the mediocre and simple you, was able to be the reason why Donghyuck has learned to find the value in falling in love. “I can’t believe I did that.”

But what you can’t believe is that you, the hopeless romantic and tinder date searching you, was able to find your reason to fall in love through Lee Donghyuck. The bane of your existence. But now, that has a different meaning.

“Yeah you did.” He wants you to believe him. “I know I say I don’t fall in love, and I know I have been firm with it. But god, Y/N. If only I knew this is what love would feel like.” And you do. You do believe him in every sense, in every word that he tells you.

“Can I drink this?” You hold it up higher, waving the drink at his face and poking the side of the straw, seeing his face drop because just when he’s sure that you will say the words back — because he knows — you do this instead.

“Are you being for real right now?” Donghyuck gawks, looking at you in disbelief, and you put up your best meekful expression. He really wishes you're messing with him right now, he really does, but it’s exactly the way he just gave his heart to you like that only for you to pull this card on him. “I— you know what. I can’t do this. Nevermind what I said.”

He huffs out a breath, taking a step back and getting ready to head to the elevator.

You grab his wrist. 

“So do you love me or do you not love me?” His back is facing you, refusing to turn and look at you because he refuses to make a fool of himself to you one more time. “I can’t believe you're running away already.”

“I said what I said.” He says with a sigh.

“Answer my question.” Deciding to spare a glance at you, he thinks he will be greeted by a stern, or maybe a mirthful expression, but he notices neither. There you are, opposite of hard, of everything fond, sentimental, poignant, compassionate, he really thinks you would play with his feelings for another time.

Instead, you give him a look, one willing to listen to him, one filled with everything he’s been looking for. Seeing how your eyes don’t hold anything back anymore, you hold onto his wrist a little more delicately, like how you would hold his heart, and it makes Donghyuck loosen up and feel jittery at the same time.

“Yes, you fool. I do. And if I want to prove it to you by kissing you, but instead I had to make a whole monologue just so you can believe me. But look at where we are now.” Hearing his blunt words, his voice trembling at the same time, you cup his cheeks, making him look at you.

“You talk too much when you’re nervous.”

You let go of his wrist, moving it to rub your thumb across his cheeks, and Donghyuck finds himself relaxing under your touch.

“So… what are you gonna do now?” He asks you. There’s a twinkle of light that you don’t miss in his eyes, a subtle hint from him to you in hopes you’d continue instead of turning the other cheek.

“I don’t know.”

“I answered your question and you’re not going to say anything—?” Before he can say anything further, or reprimand you for fooling with his heart again, you cut him off, placing your lips on his, and it feels no less than the first time you did so, back by the coffee table. 

Donghyuck’s head is spinning, letting out a gasp of air as honey and sugar drips from your lips, he kisses you, brings you closer, realizing right then and there, though he already knows, that you feel the same way. He’s reassured that you feel the same way.

“Oh.”

You smile at him, lovingly. Ready to tell him anything and everything. “Lee Donghyuck. I have started catching feelings for you too, and I knew falling in love would be wonderful, but I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

“Good.” He says teasingly, and you push your drink against his chest, chuckling, not bothering if you spill it, because that’s how you met, right? “Because if I didn’t say it already, I love you.”

When Donghyuck smiles at your expression, you best believe that it is the most beautiful thing in the world. His mouth is formed so tender and lovestruck and his eyes turn into moons, it’s such a sight to bask in under the constellation painted in the night sky. You probably realized this a long time ago, and you have only come to terms to admit it now — Donghyuck is beautiful. His smile is beautiful. Everything about him is so beautiful that he can easily turn your world around just from his presence.

“I love you too, Mr. Guy Who Doesn’t Fall In Love.”

“Wait, you knew that was me?”

“Excuse me what?” You look at him weirdly, unable to register his words until one, two, three seconds, and your head snaps up. “I just said that as a joke. Oh my god, Donghyuck.”

“Oh well,” He shrugs, before the corners of his lips turn up for the umpteenth time, pulling you into an embrace. “At least you know what happened to his story now.”

Project Title: Romancing Member Names: Lee Donghyuck and Y/N Final Project Mark: 95%

Taglist. @vocalracha @jishyucks @strawbaeri-s @neoteez01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @b1kon131 @freesmbdy134 @teardroplover @haruharux23 @haechanswhore @ndr1271 @channiedani @fullfarmrascalpeach @ellethereal00 @jensbae @bluejaem @hhyuckkkk @jensrose @zcl01 @tyunsie 

if your user is bolded, it means i could not tag you. 

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

billy and max were not californian enough in my humble socal opinion. like i’m not saying all californians have had my exact experience. but. come on.

where was the bitching about the cold weather and the lack of good mexican and chinese restaurants nearby. never have i met a californian that wasn’t ready to throw down for in n out when out of state ppl try to talk shit, even if it isn’t remotely their favorite burger place. i just know max would go crazy over the fuck all to do in town within a month or two. the largest city is probably hours away, cue billy quickly realizing the only entertainment at hand is shitty high school parties.

you’re telling me max wouldn’t throw a fit about the lack of giant skateparks? that billy wouldn’t take every opportunity to bitch and moan about having to get chains for his tires and the menace of ice and snow on the roads fucking up his car? billy refuses to button his fuckin shirt in november, he’s going to die as soon as the temperature dips below 35F. i know not every person from socal is as much of a bitch as i am about low temperatures but most of us are not built for temperatures below like 40 or 30F. actual snow is going to happen and max is going to eat shit trying to skateboard through it. i had to defrost my car for the first time during a cold snap last month and i thought i was losing my mind, billy is going to fucking hate what cold temperatures can do to your car, especially if you park it outside on the regular.

white bitches love mexican food, have you seen how they get about chipotle? one day billy and max are gonna be home alone and go ‘we should get mexican takeout tonight’ and suddenly realize they live in the fuckin heartland now, the chances of finding a good (let alone decent) taco place nearby depend entirely of the percentage of mexican immigrants settling in bumfuck indiana to actually open a place. or at least somebody from texas.

i desperately need max and billy throwing down for in n out. i don’t care about your opinion on it, your average bitch from california will not stand for actual slander against it. lucas tries taking max to the local diner and puts his foot in his mouth (”it can’t be that good, max”) after trying to insist that the burgers in hawkins are leagues better than whatever they had back in california. steve and billy nearly brawl again because billy fuckin loves the skinny crispy in n out fries and dares to put them above mcdonald’s fries and steve thinks he’s fucking crazy.

depending on where they lived in california, the lack of mountains would probably be something weird to get used to. travelling past the mountains and through flat land makes the monkey in my brain go ‘where big rocks go??? why so exposed??? too flat!!’ and i can’t help but think of max constantly doing double takes at the sheer amount forest around hawkins and the distinct lack of mountains nearby lol. california is huge and there’s loads of different biomes within it, but you’re not gonna find very many forests, especially in the areas billy and max probably lived in (i think in runaway max they lived in san diego? but that’s shaky half-canon at this point).

give me the weird slang differences between the midwest and the west coast. i had a teacher from wisconsin call water fountains ‘bubblers’ once and i swear it gave me whiplash. i love regional slang. idk if it depends on the person’s age or region or if its interchangeable in some places, but the face i’m picturing billy making after hearing somebody call it ‘pop’ instead of ‘soda’ is priceless. there’s also no fucking way billy hung out with californian surfers in the 70s - 80s and didn’t pick up some truly atrocious slang that pops up now and then. max thinks he sounds fucking dumb, but then billy makes fun of the fact that she can’t roll her ‘r’s and it starts another bitch fight. more of max and billy both saying ‘like’ way too much as a sentence filler and everyone else making fun of them.

i don’t know, i want more fun and interesting and annoying little things that people from different states do. billy and max moved across the whole damn country, i want more conflict from that than just the obvious issues.

[leggerefiore]

▲Subway Bosses Texting HCs▽

long post sorta? pictures big sorry

▲Ingo▼

● He texts as if he is sending a business email. It's sometimes so flat and dry you wonder if his brain has forgotten he's texting his partner. You swear if you see one more “In our prior correspondence…” you'll scream and want to throw your phone out the window.

● His grammar is nearly perfect, and he always attempts to text at least three sentences per message. In a previous life, he was certainly a grammar teacher. Ingo will set out to correct your grammar slightly at the beginning of your relationship but gets over it eventually.

● You start typing like him and feel like you're writing essays again. He's proud of your grammatical and structural progress; you've likely worsened his. Emmet was laughing at his sudden adoption of "wanna" into his typing. His big brother was finally relaxing thanks to you.

● Do not send this man memes. He is a middle-aged father in this aspect. Ingo needs you to explain everything, or he's like genuinely sitting there confused. (You may send him train memes… He sort of understands those.)

● He texts you throughout the day if he has some spare time to update you on whatever and check in. You're an important person in his life, and he needs to reach out and touch you. His little texts will make you feel loved and cared for. 'I love you, dear. I hope your day arrives at the destination of content, if it has not already. - Ingo'

▽Emmet△

○ His texts are short and filled with emojis. Half of the text are hieroglyphics you must decipher to understand the full context of whatever he's saying. One time, he sent you a text that was solely emojis, and you tossed your phone away in pure frustration.

○ His grammar is actually excellent, and he can type long form decently. Emmet doesn't want to, however. Short phrases and emojis convey his words just as well. Though, if it's something serious, he does lay off the emojis. He doesn't care how you text, so long as he can understand it.

○ You will pick up his affinity for emojis and probably have started annoying your own social group with the sheer amount of them added to your texts. Emmet feels no remorse for his actions; emojis make texts more readable to him and more expressive. He's likely picked up some of your quirks. For example, if you use 'u' in place of 'you' there is a noticeable shift in his preference.

○ Send Emmet memes, and he's confused as his brother at first. He will grow accustomed quickly, though. You will then have to beg him to stop sending weird obscure train memes that mean absolutely nothing to you. He doesn't stop. Seek revenge with your own obscure memes.

○ He also texts you throughput the day, but not just in his breaks. His mind is often occupied with thoughts about how you're doing and if you're feeling all right. You'll be texted sporadically with little reassuring, loving messages. He wants you to feel adored and comforted. Emmet has ignored a trainer fully ready to brawl him to send you a 'I love you💕💗. Have a wonderful day☀️☀️'.

Bonus:

Implied NSFW Mention Under Cut:

● Sexting is impossible with Ingo because you feel as though you're reading a peer's paper for class. You just send him pictures until he drops the formality or stops texting all together. Either means you've won, which you'll take pride in.

○ Sexting is the funniest thing with Emmet. You'll send something well-detailed and salacious, and he responds '👌👌💕💕'. You likely will come to hate even trying, and just send him pictures to bully him for such awful replies. Eventually, you get a single '😡'. This means you've won.

[delicioussshame]

Sugar daddy AU: new chapter. That’s it, that’s the fic.

The world has never stopped spinning for Shen Yuan before, so why would it now?

He’s sure Luo Binghe is thrilled with his current situation. If he really wanted to create a perfect bubble where he would be the center of Shen Yuan’s universe, he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He’s been all Shen Yuan has been able to think about. The moral conundrum of considering whether you’re attracted to your former student, and if so, whether you can and should accept his affection, has been dominating his every moment. Each time he thinks that yes, he could see himself allowing this, allowing Luo Binghe the more he has so visibly been craving, he falters. In a way, it seems like a culmination of all his failures; a failed career he’s a disgrace to and a return to values he’d sworn to leave behind with his family.

But maybe, just maybe, Binghe would be worth it. Shen Yuan thinks if anyone could make those concerns seem ridiculous with only the power of their presence by his side, it would be Luo Binghe.

All his hesitations don’t stop his heart from freezing in his chest where the school sends an email regarding his teaching plan for the upcoming term.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to ride the wave of anxiety that returning to the beat of regular employment brings. He hasn’t looked forward to returning to class for years, but after those sweet weeks spent doing nothing but relaxing? Facing coworkers that were at best indifferent, at worst downright abusive for the sake of disinterested students is such an unappealing prospect that it almost gives him nausea.

He’s been too spoiled. Shen Yuan normally spends the summer working part-time jobs to make ends meet. This year, Luo Binghe had swiped all those worries away. One of the first things he’d done was tell Shen Yuan that he’d be paying his rent for now, like he would be providing for all his other needs. Shen Yuan had protested, but he’d known it was pointless. How was he supposed to stop Luo Binghe from sending money to his landlord?

Without those preoccupations, Shen Yuan had permitted himself freedom from work in general. He had spared not a thought to that most unpleasant matter. His romantic life, if it could be called that, had demanded all his attention.

Now, enough was enough. This had been fun, but Shen Yuan had a job to do. No matter how much he dreads it, he has to review his lesson plan.

Such is life.

_________________

It takes Luo Binghe only one cursory look at Shen Yuan to notice something went very, very wrong. His dear teacher is tense, hunched over his desk, hand on his forehead as if he’s trying to hold a headache at bay. Shen Yuan hasn’t appeared this stressed since he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s home. He radiates distress like he did that day, when Luo Binghe went to visit him and found him on the verge of collapse.

Back then, all he wanted was to stop that collapse.

That conviction has never faltered.

Gently, Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi?”

Shen Yuan doesn’t turn. “Binghe, not now. I’m busy.”

Luo Binghe glances at the document he’s worked on, and swears inwardly. Is all it took to reverse all the progress they made a reminder of that dreaded job?

Shen Yuan isn’t going back, and that’s final. “Why is Laoshi wasting his valuable time on this? Doesn’t he trust his Binghe?”

Shen Yuan turns toward him, annoyance visible on his face. “What does trust have to do with this?”

He stays firm. “I told Laoshi all I wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. I promised I would do anything for this to happen. His job doesn’t make him happy. Why would he return to it? He still has a few days to send his notice in time. He can leave the school behind and stay with me instead.”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Binghe, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I see no reason why Laoshi should go back when he doesn’t need to work.”

“I do need to work. I can’t rely on Binghe’s good will for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of paying for an old man and will look to buy a younger, sweeter companion.”

There is so much wrong with this sentence Luo Binghe is struck silent. Shen Yuan knows better than this. He’s just in too fool a mood to act like it.

He regains control of himself. “First, Laoshi must never talk of himself like he’s a passing fancy I feel like throwing money at. It’s insulting both to yourself and to my love for you. Second, he can rely on me however he wants to. If he’s not secure with his current position, that can be dealt with. I will happily pay whatever lawyer he chooses to draft any arrangement he deems agreeable. I can transfer him a set amount of money each week that he can manage at his discretion. I can also give him a lump sum, significant enough that if something were to happen, he could live by himself, though he’s already my will’s sole beneficiary. Work is unnecessary.”

At this, Shen Yuan shakes. “I’m sorry? Did you just say that in the event of your death, you’re leaving me everything? Me?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t know why Shen Yuan is so surprised. “Who else? Laoshi knows I have no family. I have no plan to die before Laoshi, but if it were to happen, that’s no reason not to keep my promise.” It won’t, of course. Luo Binghe won’t allow it.

“Are you serious? That’s something you do for a spouse, not a dumb childhood crush.”

He genuinely thought they were over this. “Laoshi isn’t a crush. He’s someone I’ve been in love with for since I was a teenager. Didn’t I say I wanted him by my side at all times? I planned consequently.” If Shen Yuan wants children, modifications will be made to the will, but this won’t be happening anytime soon. For now, Luo Binghe wants him all to himself.

“I… We’re not even a couple yet! Binghe is being reckless! If he’s this open, what’s stopping me from fleecing him for all he’s got and leaving him destitute!”

Luo Binghe laughs, encouraged by the “yet”. “Laoshi would never. He’s too good a man to do such a thing.”

“I could! Binghe thinks he knows me so well, but the truth is he doesn’t. He’s got this image of me as a saint, as a person without flaws nor desires, but he’s wrong. Every day, I take advantage of Binghe’s kindness.”

Shen Yuan is the one who doesn’t know himself. “Taking what’s freely offered is not taking advantage.”

“It is when no sane person would make the offer!”

“Does Laoshi think me insane, then?”

“Well, no. I know Binghe is very smart.”

“Then why not trust I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

This is going nowhere. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m making Laoshi happy by keeping him from a job that is killing him.” He sighs. “If Laoshi absolutely feels like he needs to earn his own income, I will support him until he finds a decent job, or will pay for his continued education so that he can find something better, but I would much, much prefer he doesn’t bother. It’s stress he doesn’t need, for no reason. I just cannot accept his return to a school that has only one good point: him. It’s not good for him. As I said earlier, whatever he needs as collateral to feel safe, I’m willing to provide, as long as he does what’s best for himself.”

Shen Yuan looks speechless.

Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch.

“Every time I think Binghe must be fooling himself, or fooling me, he goes and does something like this, something that no one else would do, as if to prove his honesty. He makes me feel like an idiot.”

“That must be novel. I imagine someone as wonderful as Laoshi doesn’t feel that way often.”

“Just most days of my life.”

“Then his life must change. Laoshi should only feel good.” Which is something Luo Binghe would gladly help with, no matter when and where.

He takes Shen Yuan’s hand in his; presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “Please. Don’t go.”

Silence rests heavy on his shoulders for a while, until Shen Yuan breaks. “I’ll consider it.”

Luo Binghe embraces him and decides to wait.

_________________

The notice is sent two days later.

_________________

One moment Luo Binghe is preparing to go to bed, the next Shen Yuan, still damp from the shower, sits on his lap and kisses him.

It takes Luo Binghe negative one second to respond in kind, to open his mouth and to kiss back, his arms snaking around Shen Yuan’s waist to pull him closer and keep him there. Laoshi is the one who initiated! Luo Binghe can’t allow him to take it back.

Not that it seems like he will. Shen Yuan doesn’t struggle at all as Luo Binghe deepens the kiss, as his hands find the buttons of Shen Yuan’s sleeping shirt and open a trail he follows with his mouth. His laoshi’s breath fastens as Luo Binghe acquaints himself with his chest, fingers dancing over his ribs and down the gentle curve of his back.

Such good behavior has to be rewarded.

He does lift his eyes to Shen Yuan’s before removing his pants.

His beloved doesn’t say a word as he turns his gaze away demurely, but the caress in Luo Binghe’s hair speaks volumes, as does the seductive way he opens his thighs. If Shen Yuan has finally accepted his advances, how could Luo Binghe refuse him?

There are so many things Luo Binghe dreamed of doing to his Laoshi. He wants to spend hours worshipping him, keeping him in a state of unforgiving arousal until he begs for release. He wants to prepare him carefully and take him gently, painlessly, until all of Shen Yuan’s stress has left him and he’s barely conscious. He wants to fuck him until he screams. He wants to ride him languorously, for hours on end, until his body has taken the shape of Shen Yuan and no one else’s. He wants to be tied to the bed and used until he’s crying for mercy, and then be denied that mercy. He wants to go to work wearing the mark of Shen Yuan’s teeth high on his neck proudly, knowing his laoshi is wearing the exact same mark at home. He wants to fill him up with a remote-controlled toy and bring him to ecstasy during those interminable board meetings that would at least have a purpose, for once.

But for now, all he wants is to get to know all of Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan startles when Luo Binghe presses a kiss to his rapidly filling length, but he doesn’t protest. Good for him, because Luo Binghe isn’t sure he could have stopped. Not when he finally gets to find out how he tastes, how he sounds, how beautiful he looks when he flushes from pleasure.

He moans around him when Shen Yuan’s fingers twist into his hair. Shen Yuan could fuck his throat anytime, if he wanted to. Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind choking for him.

Maybe he could overcome that reflex with practice.

He would love to try.

It takes little time for Shen Yuan to groan and try to pull him off, which is a futile endeavor. Like Luo Binghe is going to waste any gift of Shen Yuan.

He greedily swallows it all down when Shen Yuan bites back his student’s name and digs his nails into Luo Binghe’s scalp.

Luo Binghe has never been this hard. “Laoshi, Shen Yuan, please.” He’d take anything. He’d rut against his leg if Shen Yuan would allow him to. “Please.”

Shen Yuan is bright red when his beautiful hand wraps around Luo Binghe’s cock, pulling and stroking in an awkward, unexperienced hold that Luo Binghe knows he’ll never get enough of. Just the sight of those white fingers on his feverish skin is enough to enthrall him. How is he going to last when they grow skilled? He’ll embarrass himself like the teenager he isn’t anymore! Even now, it takes all he has to last a few minutes.

He thought no sight could be fairer than Shen Yuan in pleasure, but the view of his fingers and chest covered in Luo Binghe’s come is so overwhelming Luo Binghe wishes his love was the type to allow for recording. If it were his face despoiled so… Luo Binghe would probably not soften at all.

Hopefully Shen Yuan will let him.

Another time. While Luo Binghe himself could easily keep on going for the rest of the night and the day after, what has happened tonight was probably a lot to ask of shy, proper Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe tries to soothe his exaltation, instead exploding in praises and endearments for his visibly embarrassed lover.

Luo Binghe ignores his attempts at distancing himself, instead holding him in his arm until Shen Yuan quiets and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him.

_________________

Well, that happened.

It wasn’t… It was fine.

Okay, it was more than fine. One can only lie to themselves for so long. Luo Binghe is devastatingly handsome and convinced he loves Shen Yuan, for some reason. He’s not immune to that much charm!

He was kind. Shen Yuan had been as mentally prepared as he could be to find himself pushed on his back and taken, but Luo Binghe had waited.

Shen Yuan fully expects it will happen sooner or later. He’ll deal then. It will be hard on him, because quite honestly, he’s not sure anyone on Earth is built the right way to accommodate Luo Binghe, but he’ll do it. Binghe deserves it.

If he’s that serious about providing for Shen Yuan, he should get his money’s worth. Shen Yuan couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

[vs-redemption]

Hi, its me! Im sorry for bothering you! How would Bakugou, Aizawa, and Iida react if some random kid, who had their eyes but different hair, who looks homeless and IS homeless, knockef on their door and said 'hey, do you know *insert womans name*? Youre my dad apparently' and it turns iut it was a woman they had a flimg with, who left them, and went on to abusr their kid? Like severely? Its just me projecting lol. Im so sorry have a great day!

A/N: I noticed that @madkaleidoscope got almost the same request while going through the my hero tags, so please check out their post HERE for another take on the same idea.

A Surprise Meeting (Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario for Todoroki and Dabi HERE You can read the same scenario for Hawks, Fatgum, and Shigaraki Here

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness. Also, swearing for Bakugo!⚠️

Bakugo

“What the hell do you mean they were offended?” Bakugo growls at his manager through the phone propped up on his shoulder as he aggressively chops up vegetables for the stew he was making. “Instead of being grateful that I saved their asses, they decided to file a complaint against me huh?”

The underpaid person on the other end launches into an explanation about why a top ranked pro hero should avoid yelling out expletives while fighting villains in front of a crowd of civilians. Apparently it wasn’t an appropriate way to behave in front of impressionable children and elderly folks. Bakugo rolled his eyes as he continued cooking. He’d heard this spiel a hundred times before. He’d honestly worked hard over the years to improve the way he directly interacted with the innocent people he fought to protect every day, but he couldn’t help but get a little overzealous in the moment when taking down bad guys.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance when his doorbell suddenly rang. He wiped his hands off on a towel before going to tell off whoever it was that was interrupting his very limited free time. It was bad enough he was already getting an earful from his manger while he was trying to relax. He ripped open the door and felt a hint of surprise when he had to lower his angry red eyes to find the unexpected visitor. It was a little girl.

“What the hell?” Bakugo leaned out of the doorway a bit to look for an adult that might be accompanying the child but she seemed to be all alone. His manager paused their lecture to ask if he was all right. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to call you back,” Bakugo hangs up the phone and looks back at the little girl who was glaring up at him with familiar red eyes. Her long dark hair was dirty and matted. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms and face.

“Do you need help or something?” Bakugo asks awkwardly as he tries to slip into his comforting hero voice. “Where are your parents?”

“Mommy left and didn’t come back,” the little girl scowls and crosses her arms. She then tells Bakugo her mother’s name, causing the man to freeze up in shock at the implication. “She said you were my daddy.” Bakugo just stands speechless for a few moments as his brain tries to catch up with what he’d just heard. He knew the girl’s mom, but he hadn’t seen her in about four years. They’d had a bit of a summer romance right at the beginning of his hero career before she’d suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Bakugo lets his eyes scan over the little girl once more. He couldn’t deny she had his eyes and his scowl. He felt irritated that his summer fling hadn’t even had the decency to tell him she’d gotten pregnant. He squats down to look more closely at the dirt and injuries all over the girl’s body.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, trying to keep the gruffness from his voice. Some emotion cracks through the little girl’s false bravado then and she looks down at her bare feet shyly.

“Mommy…” she whispers. Bakugo takes a deep breath to calm the rage that boiled up inside him and offers a hand to the little girl.

“Mommy left me too,” he confesses. “But she’s not going to hurt either of us ever again, okay?” The little girl looks up at her dad, a tentative hope blossoming in her eyes. Bakugo knew this was going to impact his life in a huge way, but at the moment he only cared about getting to know his daughter and making up for lost time. “Are you hungry?” The little girl nods her head eagerly and he leads her into his apartment. He would get her cleaned up and fed before getting started on all the legal stuff he’d undoubtedly have to endure before she could really be his daughter completely. His mind was already coming up with ways to fit parenting into his work schedule though, and he found himself looking forward to spending as much time with his little girl as possible.

Iida

Iida assumed he was going to have another normal morning as he sat at his desk, looking over his patrol route for the day. He’d taken over his family’s hero agency not too long ago, but he was already used to the daily routine. All the experiences he’d lived through during high school, not to mention growing up in a family of heroes, had prepared him for most scenarios he would encounter as a pro. He had no reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary would happen, even as he heard the knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out while standing up to start putting on his hero costume. The door blasts open and a young girl runs into the room.

“Daddy!” she shouts as she runs right up to him and throws her arms around his waist. Iida looks down at the girl in shock before glancing towards the door where one of his sidekicks stood looking as confused as he felt.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” the sidekick says a bit awkwardly. “One of the interns found her wandering outside. She was asking people to help her find you, her dad.”

Iida wanted to deny the claim immediately. He would definitely know if he had a child, especially one who looked to be around eight years old. The idea became a lot less preposterous as he looked back down at the girl. Her hair color was as white as snow, a complete contrast to his dark blue. The thing that gave him pause were the two legs sticking out from under the dirty skirt the girl was wearing. Her legs looked skinny, too skinny, aside from her calves which had tiny exhaust pipes sticking out of them. The girl looks up at him after a moment to meet his gaze. His breathe catches in his throat at her blue eyes and checkmark shaped eyebrows that were iconic to the Iida family.

“Uh, thank you,” Iida felt flustered as he looks back at his sidekick who was blatantly starting at him in shock. “I’ll handle this from here. Do you mind asking someone to take over my patrol?” The sidekick accepts the job and hurries off, leaving Iida alone with the girl. Part of him felt really embarrassed that this had happened in front of his coworkers. He couldn’t imagine what they must think of him now. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to be involved with something that could be perceived as scandalous.

“What is your mother’s name?” Iida asks, even though he was sure he already knew. The list of possibilities was very small. The little girl goes up on her tiptoes and Iida bends down to meet her so she can whisper in his ear. He sighs heavily at the name that falls from her lips. It was just further confirmation that this wasn’t some crazy misunderstanding. The information settles into his mind. He was a father.

“Please don’t make me go back to her though,” the girl’s eyes brim with tears as she searches Iida’s face for comfort. “She’s scary.” Iida understood how the girl felt. If given the option, he would choose never to see that woman again either. She had only dated him for a brief time, pretending to be in love with him in order to take advantage of his fame until she found someone higher up in the ranks to seduce. He had been so shocked and heart broken when she’d left him so suddenly, but now there was no way to hide from that mistake of his past.

“Why do you say she’s scary?” Iida asks while putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She winces and flinches away from his touch. He narrows his eyes in concern and asks her to roll up her sleeves. His heart fills with sadness at the welts marring her frail arms. “I see,” he frowns. “I promise you won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to, but can you tell me where she lives?”

“I don’t know. We always have to sleep outside,” the girl explains warily, painting a rather sad image of her life.

“Well that just won’t do,” he pats her on the head. “I’m going to make sure you have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in from now on.” The girl’s face lights up happily and she hugs Iida even tighter. The shame he’d felt initially was gone now, replaced by a determination to provide his daughter with the best life possible.

Aizawa

Between all his hero work and being a full time teacher, Aizawa’s opportunities to simply sleep for a couple consecutive hours were few and far between. He took any chance he could to just shut his eyes and rest for a while. Tonight he’d hoped to get a decent amount of sleep in before having to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend a UA staff meeting. However, it seemed fate had other plans for him.

It was around one in the morning when a knock on his front door pulled him from the depths of his much needed slumber. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as he rolled out of bed, not even having the energy to be annoyed. “Who is it?” He asks while putting on his slippers and shuffling over to the door. There was no answer, so he pressed his face up to the peep hole. He let out a groan when he saw a random kid standing outside. If this was some kind of prank, he wasn’t sure he had the strength of mind to deal with it at this hour. He already put up with a whole class of teenagers every day who drained him of every drop of patience he had.

“Can I help you?” Aizawa mumbles after opening the door. The young boy in front of him looked to be about thirteen years old. The ends of his dark burgundy hair were frayed and had been cut sloppily as if he’d done it himself. He had outgrown his clothes a while ago, and they appeared uncomfortably small on his skinny frame. The poor kid looked extremely dirty and smelled even worse.

“Do you know this woman?” the haggard boy holds out an old photograph of a person Aizawa recognized immediately. It had been a very long time, but he’d never forget the face of the first woman he’d ever been with. He’d been so young and naïve at the time, and he still felt bitter toward the friend who’d set him up with a woman with such an atrocious personality. Aizawa knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“This is my mother,” the boy states the obvious fact. “And apparently you’re my dad.” Aizawa had no reason not to believe him as he looked into the boy’s tired eyes that matched his own. It was clear that life had not been kind to the kid so far.

“Come on in,” Aizawa invites his son inside, deciding to wait to involve the proper authorities until morning. “You can take a hot shower, and I think I have some leftovers we can heat up.”

“A shower?” the boy looked overwhelmed, as if the promise of a shower was more than he’d ever dared to hope for. Aizawa was growing more concerned with each passing second.

“Where is your mother now?” He asks and the boy shrugs.

“I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks,” he states as if that were normal. “I think she met some new guy.” That was enough to put Aizawa’s teeth on edge.

“Where have you been staying then?” he asks.

“Wherever I can,” the boy replies, sounding embarrassed. “Park benches, bus stops, train stations…” Aizawa was horrified. What kind of person left their child to survive in those conditions? Why hadn’t she ever reached out to him for help?

“What are these?” Aizawa reaches out to snatch up the boys arm. Now that he was inside where the lighting was better, he could see strange scars and scabs covering his skin.

“Cigarette burns,” the boy pulls his arm away and averts his eyes. “Mom thought it would make people more willing to help when I had to beg for money.” Aizawa felt his eyes fill with tears at the words, and he doesn’t think twice before pulling his son into his arms. The boy returns the embrace, clinging to Aizawa as if he feared the man might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” the boy asks fearfully after he calms down a bit.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” Aizawa finds himself accepting the role of father rather quickly. He was already responsible for so many kids already, he didn’t see the harm in adding one more to the list. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please!” The boy nods his head, looking ecstatic as he wiped away his tears. Aizawa nods his head and pats his son on the shoulder.

“Well then kid,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

------

Aizawa Tag List:  @clovertitan  @raine-needs-help @lucacangettathisass @lea2107-foxsin @tiaraowens

[mimzy-writing-online]

Why are college professors glorified so much? High school teachers get a somewhat decent amount of respect, though that claim can be argued. However, it seems like college professors are looked up to as rock stars. Why do you think that is? I feel like I admire my professors more than I did anyone from high school

There are a couple of reasons, and please note that all my examples are going to be U.S. specific because that’s the education system and society I grew up with, I recognize that other countries work differently in terms of education.

From a societal viewpoint, professors are more respected because of the extensive education they have to undergo to get there. To become a high school teacher you need a B.A. and accreditation. To become a community college professor you need a Master's degree. To become a professor at a university you need to get a Ph.D.

As for why we (individually) feel more respect for college professors versus high school teachers, I think it’s two parts. 

One, it’s the age gap between teacher and student and how mature teachers expect their students to be. There’s a ridiculous socially constructed line drawn between ages 17 and 18, that finally entering the legal majority sets you on this new level of maturity. There’s also a fairly arbitrary line drawn between high school seniors and high school graduates. By this I mean that in high school you’re expected to ask your teacher if you can leave to use the bathroom or see the nurse for a medical problem, and your teacher is able to just tell you no. But as soon as you’re out of high school you suddenly never have to ask anyone if you can just leave, but it takes a long time to unlearn that twelve year ingrained habit. In high school there’s also a very strict, incredibly sexist (and where I went to school, often racist) dress code, but in college you can wear anything to class (barring anything that breaks the legal law).

College professors treat you like an adult who should know how to attend class on time, keep up with classwork on your own without parental supervision, and take care of personal needs and outside social commitments.

Two, it’s how college professors have more freedom from education politics than high school teachers. Public schools in America are given state regulations about what they teach and how they teach it and how well students are expected to perform with the school’s funding depending on test scores. In more conservative state governments there are bans on certain “controversial topics” like sex education, LGBTQ info, evolution, and different religions. 

College professors can swear in front of students, talk about their personal life, go on tangents about controversial topics, have actual planned lectures on those topics if it applies to class material, and the only people they answer to are their department heads and the university administration.

So high school teachers become impersonal robots with strict rules because those are the requirements of their job, and college professors are just adults who treat you like adults.

In the end I think high school teachers deserve a lot more respect than they’re getting, and the best way to show that would be for the government to grant them better funding. I also think the university system could stand to have an overhaul, namely in making it more affordable and less elitist.

[leechobsessed]

Book Club

A look back in time to see why Ella, Beatrice and Leila weren’t regularly invited to social functions. 

characters: Ella Sagen, Beatrice Viano (of @juliandev0rak) and Leila Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens) pairing: beaellaleila words: 2.2k warnings: swearing, sneaky use of alcohol

notes: this fic takes place before the events of the game and was inspired by a very specific tea cup that Leila owns, referenced in this fic

“We’re doing what?” Beatrice half-whines, half-exclaims, literally dragging her feet as Leila pulls her toward the door.

“We’re going to a book club,” Ella repeats, sighing. She and Leila had, unbeknownst to Beatrice, enrolled them in a group that reads and discusses books in an attempt to expand their social circle.

“I haven’t even read the book!” Beatrice protests, yanking her hands from Leila to fold them across her chest. “Isn’t that the only prerequisite for such a club?”

“Did you read that book I lent you last week? That one romance novel?” Leila asks, mirroring her friend's stance. Beatrice nods slowly. “Then you read the book.”

“You— you… tricked me into reading a book?”

“Yes and no. Trick is a bad word for it, seeing as no one has ever needed to work very hard to convince you to read something.” Ella sighs again. “Come on, Beatrice, it’ll be fun. You have a very keen literary eye, and it will be a good chance to meet people.”

“Who came up with this idea anyway?”

“Me?” Leila shrugs. “Maybe your aunt? Or maybe Ella? Hard to say, it became a bit of a team effort.”

The hazel-eyed magician purses her lips at her two friends, who have come to stand next to each other, smushing their cheeks together and batting their eyelashes at her.

“Pleaaassee?” they whine in unison, which makes Beatrice laugh.

“Fine!” She huffs, grabbing her cloak from the back of her kitchen chair. She disappears into her bedroom and emerges a moment later, clutching the book Leila had given her the week prior. “It wasn’t even that good of a novel.”

“I didn’t think it was terrible,” Ella offers, but is quieted by Leila’s finger pressed to her lips.

“Hey! The whole point of this is to discuss the book with others!”

“Isn’t that what I was just doing?” Ella asks, her voice muffled from the finger against her mouth.

“Don’t get smart with me, Ellanora. We’ll be late to our own party if we don’t hurry up.”

The three women exit Beatrice’s home and wait patiently for her to lock up, then immediately lock arms and start down the street.

“Where are we going?” Beatrice asks, adjusting the book under her arm.

“To my place,” Leila answers.

“What about Leda?”

“She’s at my house,” Ella responds. “Your aunt Cora should be heading over there soon for their own version of a girls night.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Was everyone in on this aside from me?”

“Pretty much,” Ella laughs, giving her a kiss on the top of the head. “Don’t worry. This will be fun,” she says again, though Beatrice remains less than convinced.

At Leila’s home, Beatrice and Ella hurry up the stairs to the living area and begin to pull couches and chairs around a tea table, while Leila starts a pot of tea in the kitchen.

“How many people are you expecting?” Beatrice asks, frowning at the number of chairs they’ve gathered. “And who exactly are they?”

“Four?” Leila says, though it’s more of a question and she peeks out of the kitchen at Ella for confirmation. Ella nods, even though her back is to her friend. “Four.”

Leila retreats into the kitchen to put some cakes on a serving dish, and Ella takes a seat on the couch and explains that those who were invited to this book club were regulars at either Vivian, Leda or Cora’s shops. They were all around the same age and had all just moved to Vesuvia or just moved back within the past year.

“Have either of you met them?”

“Um, I think I met one of them,” Ella shrugs. “And Leila knows of two. The other girl is friendly with the rest of them, which is why she was invited, but none of our aunts have met her.”

Leila returns to the living area, setting the cakes on the table beside the tea. “I do know that one of them has their eye on you, Beatrice,” she says, nudging her friend's shoulder. “Your aunt said so. But I won’t tell you who it is, because then you’ll just be a blushing mess any time they try to talk to you.”

“I would not!” Beatrice exclaims, her cheeks already burning. “I feel it would be better to know ahead of time!”

Ella rolls her eyes toward the ceiling and then fixes Leila with an unamused gaze. “Why would you tease her like that?” She mutters, standing from her seat to answer the door. “Sounds like our guests have arrived.”

Only three of the four invited guests were able to attend, and they each say hello to the three magicians before sitting down and gratefully accepting the tea Leila offers.

Anita was the first to make her introduction. The girls liked her immediately, with her very bubbly, loud personality and whooping laugh. She had kind gold eyes and a bright smile, and easily made herself at home with Ella on the couch.

Alice followed closely behind Anita, shaking hands with each of the women as she introduced herself in a soft, melodic voice. Beatrice quickly recognized the redhead as a nursing student that frequently made an appearance at her aunt’s shop. The two women made eye contact, and Alice smiled shyly and blushed before immediately looking away.

Charlotte, a very pale, very blonde, very pretty woman only nodded in acknowledgement as she was introduced by Anita, who was the one who had invited her. Charlotte found her seat quickly, at the head of the gathering, her dark eyes scanning the magicians up and down in silent judgement as she made a show of removing her fur coat.

Once they are all seated, the six women spend a decent amount of time making small talk, getting to know each other better, though it quickly becomes obvious Charlotte thinks too highly of herself to be associating with her hosts. She comments on how “small and humble” the home is and turns her nose up at the cakes offered, informing the others the only cakes she will eat are from a specific, high-end bakery in the Heart District. Not too long after, Charlotte makes a comment to Leila about magicians in a tone that suggests she thinks quite little of them, smiling as if daring Leila to challenge her statement. Instead of responding, Leila gives her a dangerously polite smile and excuses herself to the kitchen to get more tea.

Now alone, Charlotte holds her book open in her lap, waiting for the conversation to die out before she clears her throat to begin the discussion.

“We’ve all finished the novel, correct?” She asks, making eye contact with each person sitting around her, waiting for them to nod before looking to the next woman. “Good. I thought we could start by discussing general feelings toward the story.”

She waits patiently, her rings catching the light as her perfectly painted pink nails drum on the open book in her lap, her eyebrows raised like a teacher waiting for her students to participate. Out of the corner of Ella’s eye, she sees Leila return to her seat, now holding a different cup than she had before.

“I enjoyed it,” Alice offers. “It was an easy read, and the story had a nice flow to it.”

Charlotte nods and hums in agreement before turning toward Beatrice, placing a delicate hand on her knee and giving it a squeeze. “Beatrice, honey, what did you think?”

Beatrice blinks down at the hand on her knee, her gaze flickering up toward Ella and Leila. From the brief moment of eye contact, the three magicians silently agree that they are not fans of this guest.

Anita senses Beatrice’s discomfort at the unwanted contact, and offers instead her own opinions on the book, adding that it was refreshing to read a novel where some of the characters were meant to be unlikable.

Charlotte frowns at this, leaning back in her chair. “Unlikable? Would you elaborate on that?”

“No,” Anita responds, taking a bite of her cake. Ella clears her throat to cover a laugh and Beatrice and Alice share a small smile.

The tendons in Charlotte’s neck tense momentarily, but she shrugs off the comment and launches into her own analysis of the novel, which lasts at least a good thirty minutes alone.

She continues to dominate the discussion, asking questions of the others that she immediately disagrees with, calling them idiots in not so few words as she picks apart their opinions on the book.

The energy in the group continues to deflate as Charlotte drones on. Leila excuses herself again to get more tea, returning with more cakes as Charlotte admits that this book happens to be her least favorite romance novel of all time.

“Why is that?” Ella asks, reaching for a cake. “I thought it was pretty good.”

“Pretty good? No.” Charlotte scoffs. “Poor decisions were made on the part of Mr. Chauncey.”

“Elaborate on that,” Leila remarks, standing up to disappear to the kitchen again, and Anita lets out a chuckle.

Charlotte seems to miss the joke and straightens up in her chair, flipping a gold ringlet over her shoulder. “Well, the woman he was pursuing was incredibly beneath his status. Marrying her was a poor choice, as it only elevated her status and tarnished his own.”

“But they were in love,” Alice murmurs, frowning. “One doesn’t care much for social status when matters of the heart are involved.”

Charlotte snorts, dismissing Alice’s thought. “Mr. Chauncey’s mother worked so hard to keep them apart, to save her family and protect what they had made for themselves. I believe she is one of the characters you alluded to earlier, Anita, the ones that were written to be unlikable?”

Anita nods, but Beatrice speaks up before she can respond, surprising Ella and Leila.

“She is unlikable. The son she was trying to protect was not the heir to their family fortune, seeing as he was the youngest of five. He could marry much more flexibly than his brothers. The main character, Julia, was a respectable, intelligent woman, who didn’t pursue him out of respect for his status, and whom Mrs. Chauncey only disliked because she didn’t think a ‘mere seamstress’ was worthy of her family.”

“A ‘lowly peasant,’ actually, but—” Charlotte starts, only to be interrupted by Anita.

“Oh come on, Charlotte, you can’t actually believe she was written to be a likeable character.”

“I do.” She sniffs, tilting her chin upward. “I quite like her, and she even reminded me a bit of myself.”

“I think she’s a bitch,” Leila says, her eyes locked on Charlotte’s.

For a heartbeat, there is silence. Then Anita and Ella both let out a bark of laughter, falling into each other as their bodies shake. Alice and Beatrice giggle, attempting to hide the sound by covering their mouths with their hands.

Charlotte’s nostrils flare as Leila takes a sip from her mug, her eyes still on Charlotte.

“Mrs. Chauncey believes she’s better than everyone, that she always knows best, and that she deserves more respect than others, just because she was lucky enough to be born into money and status.” Leila shrugs, cocking her head to the side. “Having nice things doesn't automatically make you a good or important person.”

Charlotte fingers the diamond pendant around her thin neck, raising her eyebrows at the soft purple shawl wrapped around Leila’s shoulders. “Oh, but it does.”

Ella sees the flash of anger in Leila’s eyes and stands up quickly, moving her body in between the two women and clapping her hands together loudly. “Oh-kay! What a riveting discussion! But I am beat, whew, what a long day it’s been!” She pulls Charlotte off of her chair by her elbow despite her protests, leading her toward the door as Anita and Alice grab their things.

“Some of us need to work in the morning, so,” Ella opens the door and almost shoves Charlotte out. “Get home safe now!”

Alice thanks Leila for the hospitality and shakes Beatrice’s hand, giving it a small squeeze before she follows a fuming Charlotte out the door and into the night. Anita, still laughing, gives Leila a hug.

“You were spot on with that character analysis,” she chuckles, winking. “Thank you for having us. I’d really love to see you all again sometime.”

Ella closes the door after Anita and leans her head against the wood. She lets out a long exhale before returning upstairs to Beatrice and Leila, ready to scold Leila for blatantly antagonizing a guest. Instead, she finds both of them in hysterics on the couch, their heads leaning against each other as they shake with laughter.

“Well, I’m glad you two think that was funny. I think it’s safe to say we didn’t make many new friends tonight,” Ella says, flopping down next to them on the couch. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”

“Hmm,” Leila hiccups once, adjusting herself in order to rest her head on Ella’s shoulder. “I dunno, but I think you’re stuck with us.”

“It does seem that way,” Ella laughs. “At least we won’t have to plan any more book clubs.”

Beatrice wipes at the corner of her eyes, still giggling. “That sounds fine with me.”

[miruko-will-fight-god]

Class 1A x Immortal reader

Warnings: death, Reader death (But revival), talks of pain

Reader info:

Quirk: Complete Restoration (This quirk allows the reader to completely heal from any injury, even allowing them to regrow organs and limbs)

A/N: I swear this isn’t angst, tbh I dont even know what to call this since it isnt fluff, crack, or angst enjoy anyway tho (Also Mineta is replaced with Shinso but that shouldn’t really be a problem lol)

You walked into the room of class 2-A greeted by the faces of your new classmates and Eraser Head, who you had met a few days prior, was lying on the floor wrapped up in his blindingly yellow sleeping bag. You walked through the door, the exhausted teacher sluggishly sitting up. “Alright, introduce yourself quickly, we have things to do afterwards” he grumbles before slouching back down.

 You stepped beside the podium, reciting your rehearsed introduction from memory “Hello, I’m [Y/N] [L/N], I’m a new transfer from [Country]. I look forward to getting to know you all!” You finished, looking over towards Aizawa who was now standing, only half covered in his sleeping bag. “Alright,” he said, “now that that's over with, everyone get suited up and meet me at ground gamma.” 

You followed the rest of the class towards the lockers to change into your costumes Your costume was simple, it consisted of a simple black full bodysuit that had two large pockets running down the outer sides of your legs containing rope for restraining, and some combat boots. Since your quirk didn’t give you any offensive properties, your weapon of choice was a scythe, which was quite noticeable as you paraded out of the locker room with it.

 You, Ahisdo, Shinso and Midoriya were the first ones out of the locker rooms. You stood in awe of the massive industrial training grounds, as Ashido and Midoriya tried to convince you to tell them what your quirk is and Shinso looked like he was planning. As the rest of the class gathered up, you were greeted by your grumpy homeroom teacher and the frail form of all might. When all of you had arrived, All might began to brief you all on the exercise. “Today the battle will be a free for all, The border will be marked by a large red line that will shrink every minute, get pushed out of the border and you’re out, become immobilized, you’re out. Someone will win when they’re the last person standing within the border. We’ll give a 45 second grace period, for you all to get into a position, just make sure that you stay within the border.” He finished explaining. “Does everyone got it?” he asked, eliciting varying ‘yeses’ from you and your classmates. Before the class was told to begin Aizawa added something on. “One more thing, [L/N] and Shinso” your features became riddled with confusion. “As you most likely guessed this test will be an evaluation of you skills. And if I feel like your lacking what it takes to remain in this class, I will expel you.” You jumped at the notion of expelling while Shinso only narrowed his eyes,  you knew that Eraserhead has expelled entire classes of students before, you were no exception to this.

You calmed your nerves just as the pair gave the signal for the grace period to start. All of you ran in, some moving faster than others due to their quirks. An overly loud horn blew throughout the arena just as you reached a safe area near the edge of the border.

‘I guess that was the signal’ you thought, starting to come up with a plan

You knew that you had the benefit of them not knowing your quirk, you were told of them and their quirks and you remember seeing them in the sports festival from last year. So your best bet would be sneak attacks and to knock people out of the border since you only had a limited amount of rope, you figured the stronger and more ballsy of your peers would be near the center, so the majority would be around the outskirts like you.

You were taken out of your thoughts by tape narrowly avoiding your face. You towards your right, to find the person of origin perched on top of a pipe. You readied your weapon in front of you, The memory of the sports festival last year coming back to you. The grip you kept on your weapon tightened as you ran towards Sero, dogging and cutting tape as it was shot as you. Once you were close enough to the pipe you jumped up, hitching your scythe into a vertical pipe adjacent to where you were jumping using the momentum to pull yourself up. As your feet landed on the metal with a soft thud, you pulled your weapon out, grasping it with both hands.

Without hesitation you run towards your current opponent, making your way between the two streams of tape he shot at you. Once he was within range of your weapon, turning the blade around so he was hit with the heel of your scythe. You watched as he fell off of the pole landing on his butt. Before he had a chance to get up or even register the slight pain in his tailbone, the large red line marking the perimeter began to move inward, leaving him outside the line. You slightly felt bad but remembered that there was still a challenge going on. However you knew you were definitely going to be apologizing.

Your next destination was closer to the center of the arena. While it was still fairly early in the game, you had no doubt that quite a few people were out. After a while navigating, only accompanied by the sound of your footsteps and the sound of fights off in the distance. Before you knew it you reached what you assumed was the center. Primarily due to the fact that the area seemed more cleared out compared to other places in the structure. The area seemed almost under ground due to the lack of pipes at the bottom but random pipes acting similar to a roof only letting stray beams of light worming their way to the ground. Within the large cleared out area three people stood the arena. Three who you recognized from their files Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, and Hitoshi Shinso.

You remembered them specifically since one only transferred to the hero course this year, and the other two were fairly powerful. From where you stood you noticed a few other people, their either eyes trained on the scene in front of them waiting for an opportune moment to take one of them out or fighting someone else. The boys were currently engaged in a three-way battle trying their best to keep each other at bay while also trying to keep each other down. 

The boy in the green seemed to have a slight advantage since he seemed more skilled in close ranged hand-to-hand combat than the others. The blonde was stuck primarily on defense and the purple haired boy seemed to have a decent balance between defense and offense. You remembered Aizawa’s words, the threat of expulsion still slightly terrifying you. You took a deep breath and formulated a plan.

 As the battle continued you scaled your way up the pipes avoiding the other spectators. You eventually made you way to the end of a pipe that led directly over the battle- well as direct as you could be considering how much they moved around. You did your best to stay as quiet as possible as your made your way across the pipe until something caught your eye. Quite a bit ahead of you, the pipe got unstable due to it missing quite a few screws. It was unstable enough that probably if you applied enough pressure the pipe would collapse causing a domino effect to the few pipes below it. You knew if you spent anymore time thinking it over you would psych yourself out of it.

 You got a running start and jumped onto the pip fell with it  was everything collapsed. The trio below you saw and each to appropriate actions to save themselves. Bakugou jumping back using the force of explosions to power himself back. Shinso using his capture weapon to move larger pieces of debris out of his way. Deku jumping off of the falling rubble to make sure none of it fell on himself.

That portion of the Arena was covered in a layer of dust causing everyone to cough. As the dust started to settle, letting everyone open their eyes and get fresh breaths of air into their lungs, that's when they noticed it. You were dead…? You laid on top of the rubble, only small pieces laying on top of you. There was quite a noticeable head wound, and a hole in your stomach. Almost like a piece of metal had passed clean through you.

No one dared to move, the sight of a dead body causing some of them gag, trying to keep the bile in their stomachs. No one’s eyes dared to stay fixated on anything your body, like if they looked away you would really be dead. The most stoic of your classmates were unable to keep their unwavering facades together. Everyone's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden yelling from the pile of  wreckage “THAT HURT LIKE A BITCH!” You yelled, sitting up unaware of the state of your classmates. Tears started to flow as some of them finally gained the courage to run up to you bombarding you with questions. 

You chuckled at the familiar questions of “what?” “how?” “weren’t you dead?” Aizawa looked through the screen, a shock that was unknown to his colleague riddled his mind. He knew what your quirk was, but he didn’t know it was to that extent. He had seen healing quirks at work before, but he had never seen someone just come back to life like that. Aizawa ended the training session early giving you his logical ruse spiel while also reprimanding you for being that reckless.

Soon enough lunch rolled around, and you sat with a large group of one 1-A students ending up next to the green haired boy from earlier. As soon as you sat down you were bombarded with questions before you chuckled. “I can’t answer all your questions at once, one at a time please.” Midoriya asked his questions first which were basically all the practical ones. 

“What is your quirk?”

“It’s called complete restoration, I’m just able to heal any injury on myself, including ones that are fatal.”

“So you’re immortal?”

“Pretty Much.” you answered curtly, continuing to stuff your face. 

“Do you feel pain?” a red head asked sheepishly. “Not in the slightest! But I can tell when I get hurt, it’s like some sort of sixth sense. And “dying” is practically just waking up from that weird falling feeling ” You shrugged. “But it makes it really fun to jump off of buildings and stuff!” you finished giggling. Your classmates looked at you with a mix of awe and disbelief, continuing to ask questions throughout the lunch period.

[centuriantalevevo]

Draco x Nonbinary Reader

Reader is AMAB, also this contains my headcanons lmao- hella OOC because of that (one of my headcanons, Draco has like.. multiple cousins who are basically on crack /j)

TW: transphobia and enbyphobia, with talk of biphobia. LGBTphobia in general. Misgendering

    5th year is.. Hectic.. Especially for a certain kid, Y/N L/N, who had to deal with a literal pink toad this year. Like.. ew? What made it worse, was they seemed to be the only kid in the school, well Slytherin specifically, that was… Different. Not in the normal, cliche sense, where ‘oh Y/N was drop dead gorgeous but abused by everyone around her, she can sing amazing-’, no. This isn’t your typical x Reader story, Y/N was different in the sense of Identity, Gender, specifically Gender Norms. They seemed to be all alone on this feeling, a feeling of discomfort, a feeling of loneliness despite multiple friends being in the room with them at this moment. They were away from earth, where no words can hurt. Where the erasure cannot get to them.

Oh god did the words hurt.

Oh? What words? You’re about to find out.

    “No, but did you hear some of the bullshit Umbridge was saying?” He asked, he as in the blonde. Draco. Draco Malfoy. “Especially to my cousin-” “You have a cousin?” Pansy asked, “Welcome to the conversation, first time speaking to me?- Yes, you are hella late to the conversation.” Draco groaned, “Now let me get back to the story” “Continue, which cousin? Darla?- Dominic?-” Blaise asked, “No, Jamie..” He responded quickly, “Oh hold on, what did the toad do to Jamie? I swear, if she hURT THAT PRECIOUS CHILD- Gryffindor or not, I love that girl to death” Blaise said quickly, interrupting Draco.

The blonde sighed deeply, “Blaise.. I love you to death but holy shit let me finnish, alright..” He took a breather, Y/N came back from their little world, queuing into the conversation. “Okay, so Umbridge had the AUDACITY to misgender MY COUSIN OVER AND OVER again! Misgendered her, invalidated her, you know that rule about like.. Something distance from the opposite gender? Yeah she’s forcing Jamie, a literal girl, to distance from girls and not guys-” He halted for a second, “No, my bad.. She’s forcing Jamie to stay away from both because she believe that Jamie is gay.. No, Jamie is a whole straight girl..” Draco ranted, “um.. Sorry to interrupt but… Jamie’s a girl? So how was she invalidated?” Y/N asked, tilting their head, Draco’s eyes moved to them, softening some.

    “Oh, you didn’t know? I thought everyone knew. Jamie is trans, she’s a trans girl specifically”

THERE! THERE IT WAS! They weren’t alone now.. There was someone who understood, yet they’d been clueless this whole time.

“I swear I will jack that woman UP” Blaise said lowly and Draco nodded in agreement. “Jamie was CRYING when she came to me, she could barely speak. That poor girl passed out from crying so much. She felt so hurt and the amount of dysphoria she felt was astronomically high.” He sighed, even he wanted to cry. “Like, damn bitch you didn’t have to out yourself as a whole LGBTphobe, you could’ve just stayed quiet and it would cost you nothing yet you chose to mess with a child who is related to the MALFOY family, very smart yes mhmm..” He growled in aggravation “Only merlin knows what she’d do if there was a nonbinary in the school, she’s probably dehumanize them.” He shook his head.

    “I’d commit a hate crime if I’m honest” Dominic said, coming from the stairs of the boys dormitory, “The LGBT had their way for a moment because she hadn’t thought about the gays, bisexuals and lesbians. Well.. the gays and lesbians, I don’t think she thinks Bisexuals exist..” He hummed, “She’s enforced the rule so now Darla can’t be near Daphne, luckily I don’t have a boyfriend.. The one time being single is a good thing.” Dominic dramatically cried.

“I will prove bisexuals exist, damn seems like I gotta stay away from ALL of you, sorry” Draco jokes, but was dead serious at the same time. “Until then, if there are nonbinaries in the school, technically they can by-pass the rules, if they present as masculine one day feminine the next. Or just androgynous to confuse the toad.” Draco then added, “I think I have to stay away from you guys too, shit Bisexuals can’t do ANYTHING” Blaise said, pretending to get up and leave.

So.. the students know of the nonbinary gender…

“Although, no surprise, Snape is always the decent one, along with all the other professors, and respect the trans kids pronouns, I’ve gone into his class to give him something during one of his lessons and heard him deliberately calling out kids that misgendered Jamie, it was amazing. And everyone says Snape is a bad teacher.” Draco says, smiling some at the memory. “Ooo! Speaking of which! While in Umbrdige’s class I think.. A few days ago, Snape actually found out about the incident and told her the fuck off for it-” “Damn, snape really said ‘trans rights are human rights’, go off honestly” Dominic interrupted, Draco nodded “The best look honestly, it was pure bliss watching that.” He responded.

Y/N finally managed to form words. “I.. didn’t know there was a trans person in the school.. A fellow trans person..” They said, mumbling the last part quietly, but Draco, Dominic, and Blaise caught it. “Fellow trans person?” Blaise tilted his head, and Draco glanced knowingly, the last part of their sentence was all he needed. They shook their head quickly, “Nothing” They shrugged, “Just nice to know”

It hurt, to be misgendered everyday, to be fair no one knew they were misgendering the kid. But they were so scared of being erased, discriminated against, that they said nothing. Since 1st year, pretty much.

They stretched some, “I'm gonna head to the library, I need to get studying done for Defense Against the Dark Arts, I’ll talk to you guys later.” They smiled, getting up, and grabbing paper, a quill, ink and their books from their dorm. Speed walking out, though it didn’t take long to hear a second pair of footsteps racing after them. Who the-

    “Hey, Y/N..” Draco trailed of, catching up to them quickly, “What’s up?” They looked at him from the corner of their eye, “There’s something you never told anyone, isn’t there?” He asked. Y/N averted their eyes and shook their head, “Nn… No..?” They sounded unsure, “Is that a statement, or a question because you don’t know?” He asked. He didn’t wanna be rude, but this was the only way he could truly confirm. If there was someone he had been accidentally misgendering, he wanted to stop that quickly.

    “I don’t wanna sound rude, nor put you on the spot.. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but.. What are your pronouns?” he asked, he knew of the nonbinaries, he knew of them.. So it’s fine to tell him, yes? He was basically defending them. They shook their head, not ready yet. “Not ready? That’s fine, I can respect that. You can always tell me, you know that right? I’ll understand. And if not me, then Jamie will.” heHe had sincerity in his voice, Y/N simply nodded. “Noted, thanks Draco..” They smiled and headed to the Library.

    The next day, Defense Against the Dark Arts was boring as ever, all because of Umbridge. But she had a new lesson today, not the normal one though. She had been doing her usual bullying of Jamie, Draco had been on edge and heard about it earlier, fairly quickly too. It was like it was her MISSION to be an LGBTphobic idiot with no life. Jamie had mentioned nonbinaries before she dipped from class, arguing about trans in general with the woman, or.. Monster.. Both terms work. So she was now here, in front of kids, spewing out enbyphobic shit, and not planning on stopping.. Y/N was starting to cry, but tried their best to hold it in.

The first person to notice the distress was Draco, Hermione did too, as she sat behind Y/N but could see them jolting some, “These.. Non-binaries, are less than human. You’re either a boy, or a girl. Everyone agrees, yes? If you are born a girl, you’re a girl. If you’re born a boy, you’re a boy. It’s a mental disorder, and you need to be fixed-” “They’re normal.. They just happen to not feel like a guy or a girl..” Y/N said quietly, “Trans folk are human, they aren’t an it.. That’s incredibly hurtful..” They said, it took all their strength to keep their voice from cracking.

“What was that Mr. L/N?” Umbridge smiled that sweet yet disgusting smile, tilting her head.. No, that smile had more dangerous intent behind that. They flinched. “Is there something you would like to say sir?” She asked, stopping in front of them. “Trans people.. Are people.. Just because you’re too ignorant to learn doesn’t.. M..mean you- b-bring someone down b-beca-use of it..” Their voice started to crack, they hiccuped some. “I’m sorry.. Do you think you have more knowledge than me?” She asked, her tone was dangerous. “Y..yes. Clearly, I’ve d-done my research on this, th-there is science tha-at defends us” They said.

“Detention Mr. L/N.. For talking back to a teacher, when I am giving a lesson you are to listen, you’re too caught up in whatever freak show you tra-” Umbridge was cut off, “Don’t you DARE finish that damn sentence, I can promise you I am not against hitting a teacher and a woman at that.” Draco intervened, “There is a lot of science that backs transgenders up, plenty of brain science has shown there is a female and male brain, that’s what backs up trans girls and trans boys, the nonbinary is still being researched, but I can assure you it is much more than a mental illness. Yes, dysphoria is a disorder, it CAN be treated, it can be treated with Hormone Replacement Therapy, or HRT. It can be treated with transitioning. Some nonbinaries transition, some don’t feel dysphoric enough to transition, but at the end of the day they are still a they, I am still a he, and you are still a she. Just imagine if someone called you ‘he’, or even ‘it’ because they didn’t believe you were actually a girl-” “DETENTION, for BOTH of you.” Umbridge screamed, glaring daggers at both of them.

    “I’d take detention over hearing another second of the erasure, you’ve hurt my cousin enough, I’ll gladly take the blow for her. I thought Snape would’ve taught you.” Draco muttered, staring at her, “Both of you, leave. Now.” She said with a huff, Draco grabbed his things, but stopped Y/N when they tried to collect theirs, getting it for them, “Come on.” He said softly, leaving the classroom with the student.

He handed their things to them gently, “I.. Noticed you got really upset..” He said softly, “More like panicked..” They said softly, “It’s easier said than done, but try not to let her get to you. Some people just choose to stay stupid. Sometimes even I hurt from some of the shit she says. Damn the amount of biphobia I have heard from her is ungodly.” He sighed, “You’re bi?” They asked curiously, “Yeah, I thought it was obvious by now. I kinda stopped caring at like.. 2nd year, hell I made out with.. A lot of guys in 2nd and 3rd year, mostly to piss my father off because he’s also LGBTphobic, but also just because it’s fun, and guys are cute.” He said with a small grin, they laughed. “Fair enough, do what you can to piss the oppressors off” They joked, drying their eyes. He turned to head to the Slytherin Common Room, when their voice ringed out again.

“They/Them..” Y/N said, he turned around and tilted his head, “You asked what my pronouns are.. I use they/them. I’m nonbinary” They said softly, and Draco smiled with a nod. “Is there a different name you want to be called?” But they shook their head, “The name I introduced myself as is the name I want to use.” Y/N said, “Alright, come on. Lets go to the common room” Draco said, “I can probably try and get Jamie in there too..” He hummed softly.

    Later that day, it was after dinner, and all the Slytherins were in the common room. Aside from Draco and Y/N, “Do you want to tell them? Most of them are accepting, aside from a few exceptions, Pansy surprisingly is accepting.” He said quietly, and thought for a moment.. “Blaise told me a few of the kids got told off because they agreed with us.” He added, “I think.. I was always scared to say anything because I didn’t wanna be made fun of.. I didn’t know there was someone who was trans like me til you talked about what happened with Jamie..” They said, “Well, you’re safe here. Hell, I’m more than 110% sure that our headmaster is gay, so.. Do with what you will on that information” He said with a small lighthearted laugh, Draco kissed their cheek with a small hum “It’ll be okay.”

They’d chosen to tell them, they didn’t want to feel misgendered any longer, Umbridge aside. “Oi, everyone shut your trap for a second, I have something to say- THEO… Thank you” He said, after staring down Theodore for a moment. “Let us reintroduce someone, but properly this time. This is Y/N, they’re nonbinary, use they/them pronouns and the moment I hear any of you say something against that, I will personally come for you, with Jamie in tow.” Draco said, Y/N smiling a little with a small wave. “Could’ve told us sooner, but glad you did, especially after Professor Umbridge, good job” Blaise said.

    Even Pansy was accepting, they were all proud that you had the courage to say come out, and also that you said something to Umbridge.

This was fine, everything is fine. Umbridge wasn’t fine, but.. This was nice, being accepted as who you are, by people who you’d think would be the last people to ever accept you. The person you thought would be the last person to accept you ended up being the most accepting, which is ironic when you consider his dad. 

This was bad 😭