#I’m sorry if I dont reply to asks sometimes

[baconcolacan]

guess who just read kings cross and is going through every emotion ever 😍

OH AUGH I JUST SAW THIS NOW

Wahaha thank you :3c I’m glad you liked it

[begginmonty]

working with mike

(this doesn't follow the plot directly and mike works like more than just 3 shifts, also this is legit 2k words long i got so so so carried away im just so in love with mike, apologies!! its also not been proofread sorry <3)

before mike is hired alongside you, steve raglan had given you the job a week or so ago after you had lost your last job over a silly customer dispute (the customer is never right) and steve was your last hope at job, and bingo he had one. here you are 2 weeks later, waiting by your car outside the rundown pizzeria, waiting to train the new guy whose supposed to help you

a car pulls up and out comes a very pretty, but very tired/drained, looking guy, you introduce yourself with a small smile and he doesn’t return it, and is like “im mike”, you give him the benefit of the doubt that he hasn't smiled at you, new jobs are stressful.

the first shift goes fine, you tell him the basics and show him the training video tape, which alongside your commentary of making fun of some of it and nit-picking little things finally gets an amused smile from him. you can see him ease up a little. he doesn’t talk as much as you do but he seems to enjoy your ramblings. 

you show him the showtime performance after he looks confused about ‘animatronics’ . watching his reaction of the animatronics rendition of talking in your sleep by the romantics is a little amusing to you but you were the same way when vanessa had shown you originally.

“its something isn’t it?” he doesn't reply, he just stood looking in disbelief. 

when morning rolls around, you show him how to lock up and then give him his own key that steve had given you. 

“wasn’t so bad was it?” 

“it was..different” 

the second shift alongside mike is different but a good different. he’s running a little late and walks in on your blasting an 80s hot pop hits tape over the old speakers, vacuuming the main dining area. a smile, that melts his heart a little, lights up your face as you see him walk in.

“im sorry i’m late the babysi-”

“hey, dont stress it. you still made it!” 

he is not used to someone being so nice and friendly to him??  its foreign but he finally cracks you a small smile, watching you as you turn on the vacuum and continue listening to the music. (i need to hug him i stg)

he hasn't met anyone as nice as you in a long long time, it’s refreshing for him

and not in a creepy way !!!!!!!!!!! but he watches the cameras and watches as you just listen to the music as if the world isn’t there and continue to clean the area. 

“need a hand?” 

mike speaks up as you take a break leaning against a table, facing the main stage, the curtains open (as your next task is going to clean around the animatronics, it’s getting too dusty), music turned down quietly. he comes and leans against the table with you. you start small talk, saying something about the animatronics and you guys talk a little.

“so, you said something about a babysitter, do you have, like, a kid or something? sorry if im being too nosy, please tell me to shut up or something” mike cannot get over how nice you are

and then mike explains his living situation, and then the two of you get into a discussion about how families can suck and be shitty ect

and mike really likes how you don't pry or ask him lots of questions like others have done in the past, this man is really liking you and he’s only know you for two days

“this guy…must’ve been on something to make this place” and mike laughs a little !!! for the first time you got him to laugh !!

“yeah it’s something isn’t it..” both of you are sat against a table just staring at the animatronics in front of you

the two of you make small talk as you wipe down the dust covered tables but you can see how tired he is, he’s yawning a little bit.

“hey, you know, you can like sleep on the job by the way?” he looks up at you from the table, “sometimes i take a good couple hours nap in the office, no ones breaking into this place anytime soon”

he tries to protest and mentions towards the cleaning products and you brush him off, “go, you need it”

mike feels a strange warmth in his heart the hasn't felt, maybe ever? and he naps for a few hours whilst you continue to clean around. cleaning isn't in your job description but honestly you’re worried about the level of dust entering your lungs y'know

a loud thud and chair scraping noise comes from the office and you run to it and see mike on the floor, he looks confused and you help him to sit up. you ask if he’s okay but he seems out of it, “mike, whats wrong?”

sitting on the floor together, mike explains everything to you and opens up to you about a little brother he had, and tells you about his dream issues and sleep issues and you can see he’s upset and shaken by this dream. He shows you the sleeping pills and he explains the dream theory he’s been reading about.

“this is the part where somebody usually calls me crazy” 

“you aren’t crazy, mike” mike notices how kind you eyes are and how warm your voice is, “i’ve seen crazy. you are far from it” you joke a little and he has the faintest smile tug at his lips. 

finally home time woo !! as you lock up the gate, you watch as mike goes to his car, “mike wait!”

he turns around almost instantly at your voice as you run up to him, you pull something out from your hoodie a fazbear security badge and hand it to him, “you’re officially security now” he takes it from you and thanks you with that small smile. 

3rd shift passes (you could’ve sworn foxy was standing in a different spot and bonnie’s hand placement looked completely different) and vanessa comes for her weekly visit and meets mike. when you aren’t with them, vanessa brings up the fact that you’re one of the kindest and nicest people she’s ever met and mike agrees. 

next shift goes by and another and you guys have a long conversation about everything and you tell him more about yourself. hes never really been romantically involved with anyone but somebodysss got a crush (its him and well, you do too). and then you let him sleep and decide to tackle the old kitchen. (you could’ve sworn you heard someone walk down the hallway but you double check and no ones there)

mike dreams again and you swear you hear a groan and you walk to the office to see him, out of breath, breathing, clutching his arm and theres blood coming from it and he looks up at you trembling. “oh my god mike, what happened?”

you sit opposite him, patch him up and make him a hot drink, and he's explaining everything to you and you can tell he’s really getting bothered by these dreams. (you also think hes hurt himself from falling off the chair somehow..unbeknownst to you)

he’s tearing up a little and you just hold his hand in yours, and he's looking at your kind eyes and he doesn’t know how to react to being touched, he stops talking (mike is incredibly touch starved oh my god) and, carefully, you lean forward and hug him very gently.

he’s stiff at first but you can feel him relax into the hug and he wraps his non-injured arm around you and grips onto your back, “its okay mike. you’re okay” you can tell he really needs this hug and you can tell no one has really hugged him in a long time.

when the shift ends and you say goodbye for the day, your car just refuses to start. you cannot start it at all. you get out the car and look at it in a huff, but lucky for you mike hasnt driven a way yet

he gets out his car and you explain to him about your car, and he offers if you want a lift home or at least back to his house (his house is much closer than yours) and you can call someone about the car and you agree.

the drive is nice, you notice he has a great taste in music

meeting abby!! mike excuses himself for a shower whilst you're ringing the mechanics for your car, and he accidentally falls asleep on his bed after. when he wakes up (a good hour or so later, which you really don't mind) he walks into the living room to see you and abby sat on the floor colouring together with a cartoon on the tv, and you guys are really getting along and she’s wearing your security guard vest and badge. (her friends told her to trust you)

“uh abby, why dont you get ready for school?” mike speaks up, causing you both to look in his direction. 

you can't fight the fact that he looks hot with joggers and shirt on, looking sleepy as hell aHHH

“okay” abby smiles and gives you back your stuff and runs off to her room to get ready for school. 

he walks over to you and sits down on the couch, “im sorry for falling asleep-”

you sit next to him and place your hand on his arm and smile, “its fine, mike, really. your sister is lovely”

mike looks up from your hand and looks at your face. he looks sleepy and gorgeous and you look gorgeous to him and your eyes are so kind and theres a moment. some sort of magnetic force kinda pulls your faces closer together.

“im gonna be late!” says abby running into the room.

mike drops abby to school and you stay in his house, waiting for the mechanic to eventually call you back like he says he will. you feel a little awkward sitting on his couch watching tv but you have nothing better to do.

he comes back he offers you a shower and some of his clothes as he feels bad for you having to sit in work clothes. 

the way his heart feels when he see’s you walk out to the bathroom and back to the couch next to him wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his joggers as well hMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm (too early for love?)

he smells good

you must both drop off to sleep, as a few hours later mike opens his eyes for a minute to the TV showing some drama show, and then he notices a heavy feeling on his chest. there you are, passed out, in his clothes, head on his chest peacefully asleep. 

this is something he’s never felt before !1!!1 

he blushes (thank god you’re asleep) and brushes a hair out of your face, staring down at your sleeping face (uh oh someones in love) before grabbing the worn blanket from behind him and throwing it over your exposed legs.

you stirr a little, your arm wrapping around his lower half and he's so flustered and sleepy and aHHHH

he wraps his arm around your shoulders gently and passes out again (PART 2??)

[hysteria-things]

hi! i recently found your account, and i js wanna say omg ur so talented, like ur fr my new fav writer. could u maybe write something about a virgin reader, whos only ever fingered herself, and so when matt (or chris but im a matt girl and im being self indulgent about this), and she squirts, and is super embarrassed about it and he comforts her about it? u dont have to, but idk i js think u could do this idea rlly well:)

FIRST TIME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x virgin!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt have been together for quite sometime, but never had sex. he knows you’re a virgin and he’s so patient with you, but now you think you’re ready

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluff!, making out, mini panic attack, praising, p in v, squirting

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,066

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for anon and @mattsleftnipple03

these were pretty much the same so i combined them! hope you like :)

thank you and love you guys🫶

the pen in your hand scribbles on the piece of paper in front of you as you ponder. you’re in art class and your best friend sits across from you at the big table.

art class is basically a free period because let’s face it, you guys don’t do anything except gossip and draw for fun.

you’ve been asking your friend a series of questions about what losing your virginity is like since she has experience. the only experience you’ve ever gotten was your fingers, and to be honest, it gets old after a while.

you’re not embarrassed about being a senior in high school and still a virgin, but your boyfriend who graduated last year lost his with his ex a while back. you guys have talked about having sex for the first time for quite some time, but you were never ready.

no words can describe how grateful you are for matt. he’s been super patient and understanding with you.

but now, you think you’re ready.

“is there a reason you are asking me these questions?” your best friend asks, raising a brow.

you shrug, your hand still having a mind of its own with the pen. “i’m thinking about going all the way with matt.”

she smiles, genuinely looking happy for you. “oh my god! when?”

“i told him i plan on this weekend.”

“that’s so exciting!”

“yeah, but,” you pause to take a deep breath. “i feel nervous.”

she reaches over to stop your drawing hand. “it’s totally normal to feel nervous. matt’s such a sweet guy. i’m sure if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort, he’ll stop immediately.”

you smile at the mention of your boyfriend. she’s not wrong. matt will do anything to make you feel comfortable. he’s not one to force anything on someone. “you’re right.”

she gives your hand a light squeeze. “let me know how it goes.” she winks just as the bell rings for dismissal.

the rain outside is pattering on the window, you and matt cuddling comfortably on his bed. you guys just woke up from the best nap of your life.

you nibble on the inside of your mouth. “matt?”

“hm?” he hums, picking up his head that was resting on your chest.

“i want to do it.”

he beams at you. “positive?”

you bite your lip in excitement and nod. matt lifts himself to get more serious. “don’t be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?”

“i know,” you reply. he leans in and kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. he breaks the kiss to take off his and your shirt but goes back at it to unclip your bra.

the skin-to-skin contact felt warm and comforting, but your anxiety is starting to take over.

you try to brush it off until matt reaches for your pants. yanking his hands away, you cover your top half with the comforter as you feel tears start to form.

matt freezes, a hint of guilt on his face. you try your best to take as many deep breaths as possible. “i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs soothingly to calm you down. “n-no it’s not you.” you take three deep breaths before continuing. “it’s silly. the thought of a penis about to be inside of me freaks me out.”

you chuckle along with him, the humor helping you relax. “we don’t have—”

“i want to.” you say truthfully. “i just need a second.”

he goes through different breathing techniques with you until you calm down from your mini panic attack. he asks if you're okay at least a hundred times before you shut him up by kissing him again.

he hesitates with your pants not wanting to trigger you again, but after a beat, he pulls them down with your underwear.

his pajama pants soon end up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. he comes under the blanket with you and pecks you on the temple, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. “so proud of you.” he starts, making you blush. “you ready?”

you give him the okay, and he slowly starts pushing into you. the stretch makes you cringe and hiss, causing him to halt. “hurts?”

you shake your head. “pressure… keep going.”

dampening your lips by licking them, he continues to move. his eyes are dead set on your face to sense any discomfort. you let out a ‘mmph’ when he’s all the way in.

when he doesn’t see any bad signs, he starts moving his hips. you moan softly, the pain turning into pleasure.

“you can go faster,” you whisper, and he does. your nails leave crescent marks on his shoulders as he peppers kisses on your chest, neck, and face.

you squeeze your eyes closed, the softest of sounds leaving your lips. then, your legs twitch, and a watery liquid squirts out of you. your eyes widen, and matt stops the second he notices. “what’s wrong? need me to stop?”

“no. i think i…” your cheeks burn, too embarrassed to admit what you’re thinking.

“that’s okay. it’s completely natural.” he reassures, grabbing one of your hands to interlock with his above your head. “you’re doing so well, y/n. so fucking proud of you.”

he continues to rock his hips, this time pulling out more and thrusting back in a smidge harder. “oh.” you moan, arching your back when he starts hitting a certain spot. “oh shit, matt. just like that.”

he tries his best not to pick up speed to scare you, so instead he keeps the rhythm you’re comfortable with. he grunts, taking the hand that’s not holding yours and placing it on your hip.

the grip you have on his hand tightens, indicating that you’re close when his tip keeps abusing your g-spot.

you whimper, your legs starting to quiver from pleasure. “i’m close.”

“cum, baby. you’re doing such a good job.”

you sigh of relief when your cum slowly starts to ooze around him. matt’s right there with you with just a few more thrusts before spilling into the condom.

the feeling of him pulling out of you makes you wince, but then you two giggle. “i did it!” you say proudly, holding up your hand to give him a high five.

he laughs. “damn right you did.” he takes your high five, followed by a handhold.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72

[hotpinkstars]

AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??

-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2

synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?

a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.

warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol

w/c -> 1.2k

it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 

thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.

“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”

you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 

ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”

you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”

that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 

“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”

ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 

you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 

“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”

“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 

now, back on alhaithams end..

he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 

as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.

as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…

your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 

so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 

the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?

he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 

he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 

he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.

and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.

now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.

[aeruia]

⌕. WIND BREAKER

⟳. DRINK YOUR WATER !

you always forget to drink water every time you finish eating or just drinking water in general. that's why wbk boys are there to remind you to drink water !

character/s : sakura haruka , suo hayato , umemiya hajime , tomiyami choji .

warnings : ooc sighs ( always ooc im sorryhaishsjs ) , use of [name] in umemiya & choji’s part !!

word count : 100+ , i put it next to the character’s name :3

note : finally i’m having motivation to write omgomgomg, requests are open feel free to req !!

sakura haruka — 151 words

raises an eyebrow when you literally just stands up and about to walk away when you finished your food. he grab you by the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.

“ you leaving without even drinking water? ” he says as he pushed a glass of water in your way. shocked at what he did you gladly took the glass of water and chugged it quickly.

“ hey! don't drink too fast or you’ll get a hiccup. ” he warns making you laugh, carefully placing the cup in the table. “ oh my since when did you get so caring! ” you playfully said, result of sakura huffing and puffing his cheeks. “ what!? i’m just saying you should stay hydrated! ”

he really does just want you to stay hydrated, he keeps reminding you to drink water whenever he bumps into you ( you and sakura always bump into each other, one way or another,, )

suo hayato — 182 words

he probably knows you always fail to drink water after eating or just drink it in general and complain about your mouth being dry.

suo would text you about it reminding you and you were expecting a different text but it was just him saying " drink water! " and then a cute sticker that's drinking water.

has an extra water bottle for you if you both are outside, makes you take a few sip of water every thirty minutes. so, when you both are back inside the water he bought for you is empty just like his water bottle.

“ see, taking a sip of water every thirty minutes isn't so bad isn't it? ” he asked you with a smile as you just looked at him with a deadpan look. “ i don't like the taste of it when i keep repeating drinking water. ” suo shrugged as he puts both of your bottles on the table. “ then, drink glass of water every hour. ” you took his advice and started to drink glass of water every hour. ( and you still forget to drink it every hour. )

umemiya hajime — 152 words

you two were eating in the café as he compliments kotoha’s omelette saying how good it was and that it was the number one omelette in japan.

you finished eating and just waited for him to finish, umemiya noticed that your glass of water was left untouched by you. ” drink your water, [name]!” you looked at him when he said that before turning your head at the untouched glass. “ oh, yeah sorry! ” you said and drinks your water, drinking half of it.

after that, umemiya made a mental note to himself that he should remind you to drink water or he will tell kotoha that she should also remind you to drink water. you never forget to drink water when umemiya and kotoha will remind you every time.

you never got to complain to anyone about how you feel dehydrated and that your mouth is dry because of them, you appreciate it.

tomiyami choji — 171 words

doesn't get why you always forget to drink water and yet sometimes he also forgets to drink water so when you two are taking a walk, you will buy water not for yourself but for him. he was puzzled at that but he takes a few sip of the water you bought.

you and choji were sitting at a nearby bench for a rest and choji remembers that you haven't drink any water since you two started walking so he gave you the water.

“ drinkk your water, [name]!! ” he said happily, taking the bottle from his hand and you finished the bottle in just one go. he smiled at you and laughs “ you should drink water more often! ” you agreed with choji as you replied “ well, i hope i dont forget to drink it often. ”

when you said you hope to drink it, choji reminds you to drink water almost everyday and you feel like you always have eight glasses a day and that's good news because choji’s reminders are working.

date posted : 062124

[specialagentlokitty]

10th doctor x deaf!reader - the way you talk

Heya! Absolutely love your work! I've been rewatching doctor who ready for davids comeback😍 it's kinda hard because i'm deaf and sometimes the subtitles dont keep up with the timings😫 i was wondering if i could request a 10th doctor with a deaf reader if possible pleaseeee, thanks 💜 - Anon💜

A/N: Italics will be sign language

The TARDIS enabled the doctor to speak and listen to every language there was.

And for somebody like it, it was amazing, incredibly useful, meaning there wasn’t anything that would be lost in translation.

But, he realised there was limitations to this, and that he wouldn’t make him an expert in some areas, especially sign language.

He knew some, enough to get by if needed.

But when he met you, he realised that wouldn’t be enough if he wanted to communicate with you.

You talked through notepads and text messages, but for him it wasn’t enough, he wanted more. He wanted to communicate with you the way you had to.

So, when he had some free time, which surprisingly was quite a lot considering he always seemed so busy, he began to learn.

And when he next went to pick you up, he wore a grin from ear to ear as he waved at you.

You waved back, following him into the TARDIS, and you set your notepad and pen on the console, putting your bag out of the way before coming back over.

The doctor was flicking through the notepad, and you waved your hand at him, gesturing for him to pass it back.

Quickly writing in it, you flipped it over and held it out to him.

‘Where are we going?’

The doctor beamed.

He took it from you and set it down, making you furrow your brows a little bit, and he began to put some coordinates in.

You took the notepad again, asking him where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t reply, so you knew it was a surprise he had planned for you.

Which wasn’t so bad, except usually his surprises ended in some sort of running or rescue situation.

He was bouncing around, and you smiled as you watched him, leaning against the railing as you just watched him bounce from thing to thing, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

You didn’t quite know how the whole TARDIS worked, and he had offered to explain it, but you didn’t want him to sit there for hour writing it all down.

You were happy not knowing.

As long as you were travelling with him you didn’t care.

He bounding over, and with a grin he held out his hand to you.

“Come with me.” He said.

He knew you could lip read, so often he would just speak to you.

Sometimes he would forget and be stood behind you, trying to have a whole conversation with you and getting confused when you wouldn’t talk back.

You smiled, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the doors and outside.

It was bright, multiple sun sun the sky. It was warm, it wasn’t hot, it seemed like the perfect temperature.

The sand was a vibrant shade of gold, and in the distance the heatwaves rippled about, creating almost an illusion if there being water over there.

The doctor looked at you, smiling even more when he saw you smiling, and he reached out, tapping your shoulder.

You turned to him and he took a small breath.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right, I’m still learning.

Your eyes shot open at the sight of him signing, carefully watching what he was doing as he carried on.

But I want to make it easier for you to talk.

He looked at you slightly nervous.

How long have you been learning? When did you start?

You carried on signing questions and he quickly took your hands to stop you.

Laughing slightly, the doctor smiled and let go.

Not so fast, I’m still learning.

You grinned sheepishly.

Sorry. Why did you start?

So I could talk to you.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

Yes we write or text to each other, but I want to talk to you properly. The way you do, I wanted to make it easier on you.

You smiled and rushed to hug him tightly, and he happily hugged you back.

He had a long way to go, but with some practice and you to help guide him, he would be able to have longer conversations with you in no time

[luvrgreyy]

A PERFECTLY RUINED THING

boyfriend's brother!leon x f!reader

word count: 3.1k summary: leon's attempts to comfort you after a fight with his older brother. masterlist | ko-fi

18+ MDNI. infidelity, one mention of masturbation, age gap(leon is 21, reader is 25), non-con kissing, car sex, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, oral(r!receiving), praise, soft dom leon.

a/n: not my best work, but alright. this was meant to be a short, self indulgent fic, i dont know how i ended up writing this much. anyway, here's something to keep you guys occupied while i work on a new series im writing :3

leon has always had a thing for you. ever since you started dating his brother a few years ago, he’d always found you attractive. he’s tried to get over you, date other girls, but that doesn’t really seem to work.

his brother was a moron, and he was sure you deserved better. not that leon considered himself any better. it’s wrong, it’s messed up in every possible way, which is why he could never tell his brother how he truly feels.

family is important, and leon wouldn't do anything to risk losing his brother's respect.

but being around you, watching you, it's all too much sometimes. he would often find himself fantasizing about you while jerking off to porn, imagining it was him instead of his brother making out with you, touching you, fucking you.

it used to bother him a lot, feeling like this for someone who was technically off-limits. but lately, with his brother spending lesser time around the house, leon had started to brush off those guilty feelings.

and he began to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, he could have you for himself one day. the fantasies were harmless, he told himself, as long as they remained just that — fantasies.

leon shakes his head and comes out of his thoughts with a start. he couldn't make out all the words, but he could tell you and his brother were fighting. nothing new there.

he knows he shouldn't care, that it's none of his business, but he can't help but wonder what his brother had said to make you so upset. was he flirting with some girl? did he forget your birthday again? had you finally broken up with him? he felt bad for being somewhat happy at the thought.

until he hears the door slam. he blinks and looks up, listening as the sound echoes through the house. well, so much for staying out of it.

he’s about to get up when he hears your footsteps, and soon you stomp into the living room, face flushed with anger.

"hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, looking up at you from his place on the couch. you stopped pacing and turn to face him, eyes brimming with tears. "your stupid brothers what’s wrong,”

he can't help it, his jaw twitches at the mention of his brother, but he manages to keep a neutral look otherwise. “what did he do this time?" he asks quietly, standing up. you bite your lip and look away, struggling to find the words.

"i don't know," you finally reply. "he's just— he’s being difficult,” he wants to hug you, to comfort you, but he's hesitant to do so. you’ve just never been that close, so he just stands there awkwardly as you try to speak through the tears.

“i-i’ve tired talking to him, but he never listens. i don’t know what i did, but i know there's something wrong,”

“i’m sorry about him,” it's stupid, he knows his brother is terrible to you, but he couldn't stop myself from making a dig. “but you know you can talk to me, right?”

“i know,” you choke out a sob. “but— i just wanna go home, leon.”

it kills him to see you like this, especially since he knows it's his brother's fault. but he wants you to stay. he doesn't say it, but he hopes, silently, that you'll stay with him instead. “yeah, okay,” he agrees, forcing a smile. “i can do that, i can take you home.” he reaches out and gently wipes away your tears, thumb lingering on your cheek.

“thank you,” you sniff and nod, reaching up to brush his hand away. he lets it linger a moment longer, before reluctantly pulling back.

he knows he should tell you it will all work out, that his brother loves you and that things will be fine... but he can't. because then he'd be lying.

the ride to your house is quiet. he wants to say something, anything, but it seems wrong to talk about anything lighthearted.

when he pulls up to your house, he parks and turns to you. you're staring out the window, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

"hey," he asks softly. "you okay?"

you look at him then, really look at him, and for a moment, he thinks he sees something in your eyes — a flicker of... something. he doesn't know what it is, and he doesn't bother trying to find out when you reach out for his hand.

he freezes. it's a small point of contact, one he's not ready for.

he tries not to tremble as you hold his hand, but you're so close to him and he can't make himself pull away, so he does the only thing he can think to do — pretend nothing is wrong and and just sit there, praying you don't notice how his breath catches in his throat. praying you can't feel how hard he is.

you just want comfort, he tells himself. don't be weird.

he looks down at your fingers, how small they looked, your soft skin, the way your nails dig lightly into his skin.

"leon?" your voice comes out a small squeak.

"yeah?"

he tries to say something else, but its no use. all he can think about is how close your hand is to his dick. how easy it would be to move it a few inches and have you cupping him. he doesn't do that, of course. that would be messed up. but the thought alone is making him rock hard.

god, he feels like a fucking pervert, crossing his legs to try and hide his boner. you look at him with those big, beautiful eyes, and he nearly melts. he wants nothing more than to kiss you right then and there. but he can't. can he?

"i— uh, thank you."

you withdraw your hand, and the relief he feels is short-lived, because he watches you reach out for the door. he doesn't want you to go. not yet, anyway. "wait," he says, and you pause.

before he can stop himself, his mouth is on yours. it's just a small, chaste kiss, but it's still a massive step. what the hell is wrong with him? you're his brother's girlfriend for fucks sake! but you don't pull away, and he can't bring himself to do the same.

for a moment, he thinks you kiss him back. just for a second. it's hard to tell, since it's so quick, but he could swear he feels your lips moving with his. he pulls back, breathless, eyes wide.

"i'm so sorry," he whispers, knowing it's not enough, but not knowing what else to say. so he just sits there, staring at you, trying not to panic.

he can't think straight. all he can focus on is your lips, how soft they were, the way they moved with his. it was a real kiss. a tentative one, yes, but real. his mind is spinning. what does this mean? does it even mean anything at all? or was it just a momentary lapse in judgment? he knows he shouldn't have done it. he should've let you go, let you walk out of his life for good. but looking at you now, he realizes he'd do it all over again, whatever the consequences are.

this makes him bold. reckless. and he moves in for another kiss, hand cupping your cheek. this time, there's no mistake — you pull him closer, your tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. he can taste you on his lips, like really taste you. it’s incredible.

one hand moves down your side, to rest on your hip. the other cradles your head, fingers threaded through your hair. he pours all his emotion into the kiss — the frustration, the longing, the love he's kept hidden for so long. you taste like toothpaste and happiness, and it's the best thing he's ever experienced.

this goes on for a long time. like, a really long time. long enough that he starts to feel guilty, like he's taking advantage of you or something. but you don't seem to mind. you kiss him back, enthusiastically, and he swallows the small noises you make in your throat.

the kiss finally breaks, and you're panting. he is too. your lips are swollen and glossy, hands on his chest, pushing him away, but only slightly.

he doesn't care anymore. he's past the point of return. "i want you," he whispers, trying to memorize the feel of you. "i want you so bad. please," he begs, the plea raw in his voice. "i'll make it good for you, i promise.”

“leon,” you breathe out his name again. “this.. this isn’t right,”

he knows you’re right. of course you are. but he can't help himself. his desire drowns out whatever sense and reasoning he may still have. you're his brother's girlfriend. it's wrong, it's messed up, it's... “it doesn't feel wrong," he argues softly, thumb brushing against your flushed cheek. "does it?" you don't answer, just shake your head.

next thing he knows, his hand is sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up with it. he feels a scrap of fabric and the smooth skin it's covering. he stops, hovering just at the edge of decency.

“tell me to stop,” his lips hover just above yours. “tell me to stop, and i will.”

he waits. and waits. and waits. but no words come. you're quiet, neither denying nor confirming, and that's enough for him to take it as a yes. his hand continues up, past your knee, brushing the edge of your panties. he can feel the heat emanating from you, how your body is screaming at him to continue. to keep going. to take what he wants.

and he does. one finger, then two, slip in to push your panties to the side, and he's rewarded with a small gasp.

he shifts his fingers higher, seeking out your clit. he finds it, and rubs gently. you buck, just a little, and he freezes.

"this okay?" he looks at your face, searching for any sign that he should stop.

a tiny nod, almost imperceptible. "yeah," your voice is breathy. "yeah, leon." you grab his wrist, stopping him from retreating. "don't stop." he doesn't.

he goes back to rubbing your clit, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. one finger slips down to test your entrance. he pushes it inside, just the tip, and you tense. he groans in triumph at the feel of your slick walls, taking it as a sign to pushes further, sinking his finger knuckle deep into your pussy. you mewl, and he nearly comes in his pants.

your hips start to move, trying to fuck his hand, and he's happy to oblige. he adds another finger, hand practically punching into your dripping cunt. you're so wet and tight, so perfect for him.

“get in the back," he hisses through his teeth. "wanna have a taste.”

he doesn’t give you time, roughly shoving you into the backseat, and plopping himself down in a position where you straddle his face while his hands push your thighs apart.

he kneels down, and trails a finger up your inner thigh, finding your panties damp with arousal. he hooks his fingers in the elastic and drags them down, letting your soaked cunt be exposed to the air. he buries his face in your pussy, fingers spreading you apart. "fuck, you smell good," he groans, before closing his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue darting out to lick your juices.

you let out a startled yelp at the suddenness of it all, but he doesn't care. he's too busy breathing in your scent, licking and sucking at your little pussy, fingers digging into your hips as he pushes his tongue as far as it will go. he eats you like you're the last morsel of food on earth, desperate and ravenous.

your juices flood his mouth as he sucks and licks, fucking you with his hand while his mouth eats your pussy. he growls in the back of his throat, loving how you taste. he pulls away for a second, just long enough to yank your panties the rest of the way off, before diving back in. he can hear you whimper and moan, the sounds music to his ears.

the car lurches, and his face is buried in your pussy. he looks up, surprised, as you suddenly buck against him. but he recovers quickly, one hand reaching out to grab your wrist and pull you back down to his mouth, the other hand keeping the first two fingers of his other hand knuckle-deep in your pussy, pumping them slowly.

"i got you," he mouths around your clit, and continues eating you with renewed vigor, as if trying to prove a point. his tongue is fast, slick, and decisive, and he knows it's coming.

"tell me when," he mumbles, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy.

he feels it. the way you go slack, how your muscles tremble and contract. he's already sucking hard on your clit, lips vacuuming up your little bundle of nerves, trying to suck your orgasm straight into his mouth.

“imma cum, leon, i’m—“ you start, but the words die down in your throat.

your entire body bows back, throat making a sound like a scream that tappers out. he drinks it all in, every single drop of your release coating his lips, tongue, and it dribbles down to his chin.

he pulls back, sitting back on his heels, hands pushing your knees together to keep you from tipping over.

"c'mere," he coos. gently pushing you back onto the car seat, he slots himself between your legs. his cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, and with a curse, he undoes them, freeing his shaft.

he helps you get in position, hands shaking slightly as he lines himself up with your entrance. he's hard, veins bulging along the shaft, the tip leaking precum.

“can i?”

you nod. just once, and it's enough. his hips buck forward, slow and steady, feeling you stretch around him, the intrusion making you wince.

"sorry," he whispers, before pulling back slightly. "’ts okay," you hum in response.

your walls resist, then give, slowly swallowing up his length. but he doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, hips flush with yours "god, you're tight,” he looks down, watches himself disappear into you, and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

he takes his time, letting you adjust, letting yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you when he starts to move, it's a slow thrust, pulling back almost all the way, then pushing back in, creating a slow rhythm.

he's patient, letting the rhythm build, in and out, in and out, feeling your walls relax around him more and more with each thrust.

his hips rise up, his abs flexing as he pulls back, then lower, feeling you swallow him up again.

"feels so good," he admits, voice strained with the effort of holding back.

his hands land on your hips, fingers digging in, holding you in place as he fucks you, slow and deep, with a pace that's almost lazy.

“leon,” your voice is soft, almost dreamy. “leon,” you repeat his name like a prayer.

“i’m—”

“i know,” he huffs against your lips, feeling his balls drawing up.

your nails rake down his chest. “i’m gonna—“ “cum.” he groans, hips bucking harder, trying to draw it out. your pussy spasms, milking him for all he's worth, and he's powerless to stop it.

he's coming all over your insides. your walls suck him dry, and he slumps forward, forehead pressed against your shoulder, chest heaving.

your hand threads through his hair, holding his head still against your shoulder. he nuzzles into the touch, feeling your warmth, your softness. he's spent. emotionally and physically.

he pulls out slowly, cock slipping free, and a pearly rope of cum dribbles out. he grabs a napkin from the glovebox, and gently wipes your lips clean. he looks over at you, taking in your mussed hair, your flushed cheeks, your half-lidded eyes. you look relaxed. content.

"you alright?" he asks softly.

“mhm,”

he smiles, small and shy. like he didn’t just fuck your brains out. “good.”

he tucks himself back into his pants, zipping up. it takes a bit of effort to extricate himself from the wreckage of the backseat. he turns to you, and just looks. you straighten out your clothes, carefully smoothing down the fabric of your rumpled shirt. he watches as you adjust your skirt, his gaze soft yet intense.

“well, uh,” you pull back, eyes meeting, and you swallow hard. “i should probably go..”

“oh, yeah, of course," he pauses, then adds. “i’ll walk you to your door.”

you climb out of the car, and he follows. the cool night air feels strange on your skin, and it makes your skin shiver. he walks you to your front door, hands shoved deep in his pockets. the walk is silent, but not uncomfortable. you stop at your front door, and you turn to him.

“thank you,” you say softly. “for tonight.” he smiles. and you smile back. and for a second, he thinks of kissing you again. but he doesn't.

"night," he turns to leave, but pauses. "i hope this is the last time i see you.”

as you watch him go, your heart feels full. and weird. you can't stop smiling, even as you go inside and lock the door behind you. you walk to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. your hair is a mess. your face is flushed.

i guess now you know who the better kennedy is.

[pyr0-kai]

Could you maybe write a mike x reader that the reader has a crush on Mike for a long time now secretly but dont dare tell him because she just can't is too shy and Abby helps reader and Mike to find together with her drawings since she noticed how they look at each other every time but no one says anything and maybe with just fluffy please. The reader knows mike a long time and knows what he is going through and Mike did become distance from the reader but the reader is still here for him when he needs it too.. And they kiss too :)

Hiiii, thank you for my first official request!! I hope you like it!

There shouldn’t be anything to spoiler-y just some tooth rotting fluff and bad writing!! (And one spicy reference ish? Nothing too bad)

Also So sorry, my art class was watching the little mermaid today so its been in the back of my mind.

Abby, The Little Matchmaker

You had moved in next door to the Schmidt house a few years ago. Mike was watched out the window the day you moved in, while eating breakfast with Abby one morning. He saw you outside of the window, and he wasn’t trying to stare, but ended up staring at your driveway, watching you bring in and out boxes of stuff from one of those large moving trucks. Abby finished a little doodle before looking up, seeing her big brother staring. When Abby spoke up, he zapped out of his little trance.

As a lot of time had passed you had gotten to know him somewhat well. Sometimes he would talk with you from the other side of your fence, or you two would sit on the curb or one of your porches together and just chat about random stuff. As he became more focused on his work, trying and failing to keep a good few job, he slowly began to, unintentionally, become distant. No longer speaking to you directly. But he still would watch you from the window of his kitchen if he saw you pretty [hair color] flash in the corner of his vision. Often seeing you playing with your younger sibling, or younger family members.

Once he landed the job at Freddy’s, he knew he would need help. And you were the best and only person he could really think to ask. It was awkward but, you agreed. Excited to officially meet his little sister, and hopefully see more of him once again. Thats how you ended up watching over Abby once he started working late nights.

Abby was very shy at first, but as time past, and you spent more time at the Schmidt house, she began to open up a bit, talking more and inviting you to draw with her. She also noticed though, how awkward you were with Mike. How you two both seemed to like each other a lot, but it was strange.

One evening however, it was just you and Abby. One of her favorite movies, The Little Mermaid was playing in the background, and she was drawing. Not looking up from the paper, she spoke.

“Hey, [Y/N]?”

“Yeah Abby? Whats up?”

“Do you like my brother? I mean, Like-Like him?”

Your face flustered at that question.

“N-Not like that no… We are just friends really.” You replied, voice cracking a bit.

She turns her head and looks at you.

“Oh really? At dinner sometimes when I mention you, he always says you’re pretty and appreciates you being friends and taking care of me at night. Also, sometimes when i’m not asleep yet, I hear weird noises, and your name coming from his room.”

She notices your face and how red it gets from hearing her speak. She knew you had a crush on him, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Then she turned her head back, smirked to to herself and grabbed a new piece of paper, before heading back into her room, to plan.

Later, Mike invited you to stay for breakfast. He was cooking up some slightly burnt scrambled eggs while you were tapping your nails on the kitchen table. After what Abby had told you, it became even more difficult to talk to him.

Abby came out of her room a few minutes later, a piece of folded paper in her pj pocket. She sat at the table, across from you, wishing you and Mike a good morning. You 3 ate Mike’s slightly burnt food, as Abby told you about a project she’s excited to start at school. Once the food was done, and the dishes were put in the sink, Abby perked up again.

“I drew this for both pf you! Don’t open it until I’m back in my room please!”

You and Mike both nodded as she dashed off into her room to get ready for school. You stood next to Mike as he unfolded the sheet of paper. The inside revealing a picture of You, Mike, And Abby, all happily hugging. You and Mike looked at each other, admiring each other’s eyes. Before you both heard Kiss the girl, from The Little Mermaid start playing from the Cassette player in Abby’s room.

You two both looked at each other, the paper still in Mike’s hand.

“Did Abby tell you that I like you?��� He asked.

“Yeah, did she say that I like you..?”

You replied.

But you’re dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl

Yes, you want her

The song played, while you and mike looked each other. He gulped before leaning in slightly for a kiss, and you met his lips halfway. The kiss was everything you both wanted, soft, loving and passionate.

“I love you…”

He spoke.

“I love you too…”

You replied.

The song ended from Abbys room, and you both heard her shout

“I KNEW IT!”

You and Mike both laughed before he pulled you into a tight hug. To this very day, the specific picture Abby drew is framed and sits on a shelf. She draws all 3 of you together much more, loving how happy it makes you all. This always ends with a group hug, as well as you and mike sharing a loving kiss.

[whoreforchr1s]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

bf!chris sturniolo

a/n: y’all please give me one-shot suggestions🙏🙏

- HUGEEEE pda guy like he wants his hands on you 24/7, whether thats on your waist, you hands, you thighs or even your back, it doesn’t matter. expect this man’s hands to be GLUED to you.

- compliments all the time! even if your sick and look disturbingly gross, he would still think you are the most beautiful human to walk this planet, and he will always tell you that.

- he defo gets jealous easily but trusts you with his whole heart

- you guys are just literally bestfriends in a relationship. i dont know if this makes sense, but y’all literally laugh at anything and just get along so well!

- he acts all tough but he has a HUGE soft spot for you.

- he honestly doesn’t like pet names, but ‘ma’ is an exception. He calls you ma ALLLLL the time, but nothing else. Not babe, not baby, nothing! but if you call him babe or baby, he loves it. But he’ll just stick to ‘ma’

- morning 🪵 pretty much everyday.

- protects you all the time from haters. if you get hate, he will be replying to every comment/ message that he sees. even if you tell him it doesn’t bother you, he doesn’t care, no one is gonna hate on his girl.

- back to the pet names, when talking to other people like his friends or just random people, he always labels you as ‘his girl.’

‘oh sorry, i’m going with my girl’

‘i gotta go find my girl’

- matt and nick always tease him about sappy stuff he has done for you/ said to you.

- he’s defo the type of guy that pretends to hit it from the back when you bend over to get something.

- he’s low-key a freaky bitch..

- whenever you are in a short skirt or dress in public, he always walks behind you so no creeps can stare at you.

- ass guy. i think alot of people agree that chris is an ass guy, of course, but my man loves soke boobs too. Like he loves grabbing and slapping your ass, and loves backshots, but honestly when your wearing a low neck shirt, he can’t help but stare..

- if you’re a reader, he will always ask about your books and what is happening in your current read, he has no idea what your saying but he just loves to hear you talk about something your so passionate about.

- he finds it hard to say no to you, you wanna do his makeup? sure thing! wanna get a cat? okay! no problem!

- he loves complimenting you. He knows that sometimes you are a bit self-conscious, but he will do everything in his power to make sure you know how beautiful you are. because, you are the prettiest person he has ever laid his eyes on.

masterlist!

[storm-angel989]

heyy ik this is weird to ask but cam you do valentino's daugher x vox idk why but im screaming for content and honestly i think it would be interesting to see if they "got along" you coulf say you dont have to do this i just find this a interesting concept like imagine if they had more of a special bond then valentino and his own daugher plus im sorry if this is to much to ask for

Hi there,

Sorry for the delay! Take a peek at this one- and let me know if you were thinking a different vibe!

~Mandy

“Hey, Uncle Vox!” I called cheerfully as I walked into his office.  Two more nights, two more until my final game of the school year. As an avid water polo player, my games were the height of my highschool experience and this final game this year was one I had been working hard towards. I tossed my backpack on my desk next to my Uncle Vox’s and slid myself into my chair. 

My weekday routine had been the same since I started school. With my father being The Valentino, and the odd hours he worked, it was my Uncle Vox who usually woke me up early and kept me on a schedule. Brushing my teeth, getting me dressed, breakfast and out the door when I was little. Now that I was sixteen, that morning routine looked a little different. Instead of waking up at seven, I woke up at four with Uncle Vox. We hit the gym together, then parted ways until it was time for breakfast- or more importantly, coffee. Sometimes my dad joined us, and sometimes my Auntie Vel joined us. But with their ever changing schedules more often than not it just wasn’t practical for them to join. So Uncle Vox stayed the consistent one. 

“Hey yourself, kid,” Vox replied as he stood up out of his chair. “Your dad is on the line, he wants to chat with you.” 

I slid into Vox’s seat and my fathers face appeared on the monitor in front of me. My heart soared. I bet he had a big surprise waiting to celebrate after tomorrow night.

“Hi Daddy!” I said cheerfully. “Are you ready to watch me rock it tomorrow?” 

My father’s face looked sad. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about bebita. I’m sorry, I won’t make it. I have a crisis to handle down in the greed ring and I…” 

I could feel the sadness wash over me. The rest of the conversation went in one ear and out the other and I tried to hide my crushing disappointment. 

“I’m sorry baby, but your Uncle Vox and Auntie Vel will be there and they promised to keep me updated.” My father finished. “I’ll make it up to you later okay? We can do whatever you want. Daddy daughter day.”

Yeah, sure. I had heard that one before. To date, he owed me no less than six daddy daughter days. And the flowers and trinkets he sent to make up for his absence didn’t help either. He tried- I knew it. But nothing he said or did would make up for his lack of presence. 

I signed off and put my head in my hands as I tired to keep tears from falling down my face. I felt Vox’s hand on my shoulder and I looked back at him as I bit back bitter disappointment. 

Vox seemed to recognize the look on my face. “Aw honey, I know. But we’ll be there. I promise.” He squeezed my shoulder gently. “Your Auntie Vel and I will cheer you on.” 

“Yeah, at least someone cares.” I muttered as I rubbed my eyes. 

“Now you know that isn’t true sweetheart,” Vox began. “Your Daddy loves you very much, his work just…”

“You make time for me!” I said angrily. “You make it a point to sit with me and go to my games and ask me about my day, I can’t remember the last time I saw my dad at one of my games or even just right after school!” 

“My schedule is a lot more fluid than your dads is sweetheart,” he replied calmly. “I understand your frustration, but if your dad could make it he would.”

It was the age-old argument. After a few seconds, I stood up and Vox pulled me into a hug. 

“Hey, you’re loved. Don’t forget that, okay?” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “Now let’s get that homework done.” 

I scowled but sat back down at my desk. The homework rule had been instilled by my father from my first days of preschool. Home. Snack. Work. Sometimes at my pink desk in my room, if it was Dad or auntie Vel picked me up. But more often than not, it was uncle Vox who showed up in the limo and he had work to do too. As I grew, the desk next to his grew as well. From a tiny pink plastic chair to a full grown pink office chair- I sat right by Uncle Vox almost every single day. 

His snack drawer too changed as I grew- from cheeze-itz, to fresh fruit, to protein bars and goldfish. 

“Hey, can you check this one?” I asked after a few moments of work. “Uncle Vox?”

“Did you try it three times three different ways and watch a video?” He replied back without another glance. 

“Yeah.”

“Then, sure.” He lifted his head up and picked up my homework sheet. He glanced it over. “I think this is a quadratic formula problem. You forgot the square root sign- remember the song?”

“I do but…”

He cleared his throat. “X equals negative b plus or minus the square root of b squared minus for ac all over two a!”

To his credit, the song was a great study tool. To my mortification, Vox couldn’t sing worth a damn. 

“You’re way too enthusiastic about math,” I muttered as I made the correction. 

“But I was right wasn’t I?” He teased as he turned back to his computer. 

“That’s not the point,” I replied. Not to my surprise, the problem worked itself out. “Thanks Uncle Vox.” 

I stood up and leaned in between him and his desk wrapped my arms around him. “And thanks for being the best uncle a girl could want.” 

I felt him return the hug. “Love you, kiddo. More than you’ll ever know.” 

I released him and he grinned. “If you get your homework done quickly I’ll take you to the pool and run a few practice rounds with you. And then I’ll take you out to dinner- see if Auntie can meet us.”

The work that went into Vox being able to get into the water was tremendous- not to mention he’d be leaving his job early. 

“Really? You have time for that?” I asked. 

“For you sweetie? I’ll always have time.”

[love-anddeepression]

Father Mine- 3

ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1

You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.

“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.

“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”

You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”

He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”

You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”

That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.

Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.

Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”

“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.

“That’s mental.” He exclaims.

“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.

“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”

“I knew someone who could.”

Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.

The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.

“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.

He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”

———————————-

“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.

She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”

He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.

“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.

“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.

"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."

"It's a start."

"Jessica." he looks up

"What?"

"I should have told you, something about her."

"What?"

"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."

"Why didn't you send her there before?"

"It was too dangerous."

"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."

The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

————-

You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.

“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.

“Marc?”

He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”

You tilt your head, “Go on.”

He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.

As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.

He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.

It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.

When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.

You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.

That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.

“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”

“For good reason.”

“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”

The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”

Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”

“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”

“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”

“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”

His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”

Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.

------------------

"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.

"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.

"And you cannot go back?"

"No."

"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."

"What would you have me do then?" you ask.

"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.

His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.

But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.

You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.

"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.

Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.

Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.

"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."

You need to run.

[notmusa]

Hi. I’m sorry if this is weird. I’m an artist too and I get guilty for not replying to some asks. I get really anxious.. Also if they’re asks that are sort of expecting to see some kind of drawing from me it makes me feel guilty for not replying. Do you ever have to deal with that?

not weird! i do not have this problem tho....... there are over 10,000 unanswered asks in my inbox lmao. just respond 2 the ones u feel good about responding to! u dont gotta waste precious spoons on which messages get replies. sometimes ur just not feeling it & sometimes u forget & that is ok.

[ylangelegy]

the loser and lover both die at the end ꩜ yeonjun.

── .✦ 💌 inspired by adam silvera's they both die at the end, major character death, alternate universe: non-idol, [heavy] angst, grief/mourning, last day on earth, platonic relationships, slice of life, [possibly] unrequited love.

── .✦ 🚏 this is the last of my non-svt/skz fanfiction for now! first published on ao3... at a time where i was admittedly very obsessed with yeonjun's watermelon sugar x blow dance cover (lol). this is thematically heavy, so please look out for yourself. it's also my first ever kpop fic (whew!) and so my writing style isn't like this anymore, but it's a good time capsule of some sorts.

── .✦ 📟 wc: 12,000+

On the day that he’s supposed to die, Choi Yeonjun learns what it means to be alive.

Choi Yeonjun was in the locker room when he got the call.

It was cruel, really. Everything had been so perfect until then. The cold noodles he had for breakfast were divine. There wasn’t any traffic on the way to the dance studio. And it took him only three hours to film his dance cover of Watermelon Sugar, as opposed to his other routines that usually ate up his whole day.

He had ducked into the locker room to send the group chat a quick text about their dinner plans when his phone started ringing. It was an unregistered number, which Yeonjun wouldn’t usually have bothered to answer— but he was in such a good mood, and how could anything go wrong on a day like this? 

“Yeonjun speaking,” he chirped, using his free hand to sift through the mess of his locker. He was pretty sure he’d packed an extra pair of clothes somewhere. “Who’s this?” 

“Hello. I’m calling from Death-cast.”

A beat.

“Could you please confirm that you are Choi Yeonjun, born September 13, 1999?” the monotone voice on the other end of the line asked.

It wasn’t until later that Yeonjun would realize how standard the entire spiel was. He’d already mentioned his name on the get-go; this stranger was just calmly reading off a script as if it weren’t the worst call of Yeonjun’s life.

“Hello, Yeonjun? Are you there?” 

“Yes,” Yeonjun said quickly. Pulling away from his locker, he slumped down onto the nearest bench. “Yes, this is Choi Yeonjun.” 

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours, you will be meeting an untimely death.” The caller paused, as if to let the information sink in. 

“On behalf of Death-cast, we are sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun responded dazedly. Then, more out of habit than anything, he weakly added, “Thank you.” 

The call cut without another word.

Yeonjun sat in his seat for what felt like an eternity, staring at his phone log. Three minutes. His entire conversation with the Death-cast had lasted only three minutes. 

This had happened to him before. He’d be having a Good Day, but then something small would come around and trip him up.

Maybe the master CD would refuse to play. Maybe Soobin nicked the kimbap he’d been saving. There was always something.

Beomgyu jokingly called them hiccups, and Yeonjun found himself waiting for them; holding his breath for whatever might take away his day’s joy.

The Death-cast call was today’s hiccup. The worst hiccup he’d ever gotten.

His phone pinged, snapping him out of his shell-shocked state. It was Soobin. 

do u still need a ride? 

Ping. Another text from Soobin. 

reply asap i wont hv time 2 make a uturn if u dont reply NOW 

Despite himself, Yeonjun chuckled. What did Soobin know about not having time?

As he keyed in his response, he contemplated skipping out on dinner. Maybe he could just disappear. No one would ever have to know he was dying, and they’d also never know when he died. 

I’ll meet you there, Yeonjun responded instead.

Ping. 

suit urself!!!! dnt b late yeonttomeok ~

The stupid nickname. Yeonjun grimaced at the sight of it. Then, his expression softened, because he realized that he couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun couldn’t run from Soobin or the rest of the boys. If he was going to spend his last day with anyone, he was going to do it with them. 

He left the dance studio half an hour later. He emptied out his locker first, then he walked around for a bit to take it all in. On his way out, he tacked a note on the studio’s student corkboard. 

It would take a few days for anyone to notice. The grieving custodian is the one who finds it; a neon orange Post-It, hiding in plain sight among a sea of reminders and ID pictures. 

Thank you, he’d written. For everything. -YJ. 09/16/21

“You should try some of my pizza,” Hueningkai said enthusiastically, shoving a slice onto everyone’s plates. “It’s to die for!”

Yeonjun choked on his drink. 

On Yeonjun’s right, Beomgyu burst into peals of laughter, mimicking Yeonjun’s hacking coughs. Soobin, on the left, was tapping Yeonjun’s back sympathetically— though also visibly holding back his own grin.

As Yeonjun tried to clear the blockage in his throat, he fleetingly thought that this was it. He was going to drop dead in the booth of an American fast food chain, right before he could even tell his friends that he was on borrowed time.

But then the cola went down, and Hueningkai’s incessant apologies started sounding louder than the fears in his head, and Yeonjun quietly thanked God that his cause of death was not as lame as he thought it’d be.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Yeonjun sighed, looking around the table. A sneer for Beomgyu. A smile of reassurance for Soobin and Hueningkai. And for Taehyun… 

There was an odd look on Taehyun’s face that knocked the wind out of Yeonjun. 

It was almost like Taehyun knew. How could he, though?

Yeonjun held the other boy’s gaze, the two of them staring each other down intently. 

“Earth to Yeonjun,” Beomgyu sing-songed, waving his hand in front of Yeonjun’s face.

Taehyun looked temporarily startled by the intrusion before his expression quickly shifted into something more pleasant. Despite both of them breaking into a smile, Yeonjun couldn’t help but still feel a bit unsettled. 

“You’re extra sunny today,” Yeonjun sarcastically told Beomgyu. The latter smiled cheekily and shrugged. 

“What can I say? I love the first Friday of each month,” the younger boy said. As he turned away from Yeonjun to shove some fries into his mouth, it occurred to Yeonjun that this would be their last first Friday.

The five of them had been close friends since 2019. It started off as a small group that enjoyed playing computer games with each other, but then Taehyun quit gaming to focus on his studies and Hueningkai decided he wanted to spend his money on collecting plush toys.

It was Soobin who insisted that they meet up even if it meant not going to internet cafes anymore. That unassuming evening marked the start of a two-year tradition of meeting up every first Friday of the month. 

They still met up outside of those Fridays, of course. Soobin and Yeonjun actually moved in to be roommates half a year ago, and Beomgyu liked to still play video games with Yeonjun every now and then.

But first Fridays were sacred. No one missed out on them, come storms or break-ups. Their Fridays were the glue that kept the five of them together. 

“Sorry. Give me a second.” 

It didn’t immediately register to Yeonjun that Taehyun had excused himself from the table. Only when Hueningkai made an offhand comment about Taehyun taking his time, only then did the feeling of dread settle at the pit of Yeonjun’s stomach. 

“I’ll check on him,” he volunteered immediately, hastily climbing over Soobin’s legs to get out of the suffocating booth.

As he speedily walked away, he could hear Beomgyu cracking a joke to the remaining two boys. Yeonjun missed out on the rest of the story as he ducked into the men’s bathroom.

The overwhelming stench of bile was the first thing that hit Yeonjun; instinctively, he covered his nose with his hand.

From a barely closed stall, he could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone retching. Trying his best not to gag, Yeonjun took a few tentative steps towards the source. 

From where he was standing, he could recognize Taehyun’s Adidas shoes. 

Yeonjun couldn’t come any closer. 

Taehyun, from inside the stall, finally stopped convulsing. A brief moment passed before he flushed and stumbled out. Head bent, Taehyun mumbled apologies before stopping in his tracks at the sight of Yeonjun. For the second time that night, the two carefully regarded each other. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Taehyun made an annoyed tsk sound. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned up at the older boy.

“You too, huh?” he asked quietly. 

To Yeonjun, it felt like the punch line to the world’s worst joke. 

They decided to tell the rest of the boys after footing the bill. 

It was unceremonious at best and merciless at worst, for Taehyun and Yeonjun to break the news outside Hueningkai’s favorite restaurant. And Beomgyu made it so easy, too, by kidding about it as they headed out.

“What are you two so nice for? Don’t tell me you’re dying,” he teased, and Taehyun and Yeonjun shared a look as if to say, Well, now that you’ve mentioned it… 

Even though they talked it over in the bathroom, actually telling the rest turned out to be quite hard. At first, Beomgyu thought they were messing with him; that they’d colluded the whole plot while they were both gone.

As he screeched at Taehyun and Yeonjun that it wasn’t funny, Yeonjun pulled out his phone to show off his last received call. Taehyun did the same. 

Beomgyu got dreadfully quiet after that.

Soobin, ever the soft one, burst into quiet tears. Hueningkai held on to him, looking as though he might pass out if he wasn’t clutching on to something. Taehyun approached the two and whispered words of comfort that Yeonjun caught only bits and pieces of. 

“Have each other… Accepted our fate… Be okay…” 

Lies, the eldest of them found himself thinking angrily. All lies. 

No longer able to handle it, Yeonjun stalked over to Beomgyu. The younger boy was crouched near the sidewalk corner with no discernible expression on his face. His silence spoke volumes to Yeonjun; it was comforting to share, so much that Yeonjun felt a bit disappointed when Beomgyu spoke up. 

“What now?” 

“What now?” Yeonjun repeated.

“Are you just gonna lay down and die?” Beomgyu asked brazenly. Momentarily floored by Beomgyu’s audacity, Yeonjun looked at him like it was his first time seeing him. 

It was a silly notion, honestly. They saw each other practically every day. Next to Soobin, Beomgyu was the one closest to him. Admittedly, though, Beomgyu was also the one who irritated him the most. 

But not today. 

“I’ve always loved how shameless you can be,” Yeonjun blurted out, the heat immediately rushing to his cheeks at the sudden confession. If Beomgyu was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he answered with a faint smirk. “Anyway, back to my question. What now? Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully?” 

“But it’s 8 PM,” Yeonjun said dumbly. Beomgyu promptly smacked him on the back of the head, making Yeonjun yell with indignation. 

“You’re dying and you’re thinking about curfew?” Beomgyu bellowed. “Do you understand just how stupid that sounds?”

“I swear, you’ll be the one that kills me,” Yeonjun grumbled, rubbing the spot Beomgyu hit. 

The younger boy barrelled on. “We don’t know how or when exactly you’re going to die. You and Tae can’t sit around and just wait. There’s so much that you can do in 24 hours!”

“Less than 24 hours.” 

“With all due respect, Junnie—I don’t give a fuck.” 

Yeonjun let out a disbelieving chuckle. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Beomgyu was right. It’d be a waste to spend his last day in fearful anticipation of the inevitable.

“Do you have a marker on you?” Yeonjun asked suddenly. 

Between the five of them, Beomgyu was the only one who was skilled at drawing. He sometimes carried the most random of art materials around with him and that night was no exception. “Just a blue one,” he said after sifting through his backpack. No questions asked, he passed it over to Yeonjun.

Looking around, Yeonjun zeroed in on the restaurant’s painted wall. It was in a pristine shade of white. Perfect. 

“Cover for me,” he commanded Beomgyu. The latter did as he was told, shielding Yeonjun from the street’s view. 

After a minute or two, Beomgyu was no longer able to contain his curiosity. “What are you doing?” he piped up, obviously trying to mask his interest. 

The impatience made Yeonjun laugh. 

“You can look now,” he said. 

Beomgyu turned to face Yeonjun.

On the restaurant’s shop front, Yeonjun had left yet another small thing to be remembered by. Along with a doodle of a pizza and a cola was a scrawled note, a note: YJ’s last supper. 09/16/21. 

If it had been any other day, Beomgyu might have commented on the abysmal state of Yeonjun’s drawings or the chicken scratch quality of his handwriting. That night, though, he wordlessly reached out for the marker.

Quickly, he sketched what seemed to be chibi versions of the two of them. 

“Always stealing my thunder,” Yeonjun jeered, though the taunt was softened significantly by the astonishment beneath his tone. Beomgyu’s rendition of them was uncanny. Finishing up, he wrote: Gyu was here too! 

Beomgyu looked up at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun smiled at him in response.

An iPhone note found in Choi Yeonjun’s phone, dated September 16, 2021. Last edited: 8:34 PM. 

☑ Commit vandalism 

☑ Have a good meal 

▢ Film and post a dance video

▢ Play Overwatch

▢ Go to a thrift shop and buy Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin better clothes

▢ Go on a date 

▢ Write my last will and testament 

▢ Say goodbye to mom and dad

▢ Take photos to leave for Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin

“You’re seriously going to waste time on Overwatch? On your last day ever?” Beomgyu complained.

Yeonjun angled his phone away from Beomgyu’s view. “It’s my bucket list. Not yours.” 

“Stop fighting,” Soobin said. His eyes were rimmed with red from his non-stop crying. It made Yeonjun’s heart ache. 

The three of them were in the back of a cab, heading to Yeonjun’s family home in Bundang. Though it was the last on his bucket list, it was the first thing he wanted off his chest.

He didn’t intend to tell his parents over the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he should even tell his parents at all. 

Half an hour ago, Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to not wallow over their impending death. They had individual businesses that they first had to deal with but they made plans to meet up after so the five of them could be complete.

Hueningkai stuck with Taehyun while Beomgyu and Soobin decided to accompany Yeonjun. 

“I’m just saying, you could be spending your time a little wiser than losing to me and Soobin,” Beomgyu quipped. 

Sighing dramatically, Yeonjun removed the goal from his list. 

Before he could hit Beomgyu with another wisecrack, their ride came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, Soobin was strict on always wearing seatbelts; the safety device kept them from launching forward, though Beomgyu’s forehead did collide with the driver’s headrest. 

Beomgyu howled with pain as the driver profusely apologized. “A stray cat bolted in front of us as I was pulling in to park,” the driver explained. “I didn’t notice.” 

Yeonjun exhaled, one hand clutching his chest. 

The three of them slid out of the backseat and onto the Seongnam sidewalk. “You alright?” Soobin asked quietly as Beomgyu went to pay for the ride. 

The honest answer: Yeonjun was a little shaken.

Each step felt like there might be a minefield beneath his feet. He kept imagining a bunch of different scenarios on how it would happen, who would be there with him when it did. He didn’t want it to be any of the three boys, but they were insistent on keeping him and Taehyun company. 

No one seemed like they were ready to let go. 

Instead, what Yeonjun said: “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Beomgyu returned, another unreadable expression on his face. “The driver wouldn’t let me pay,” he reported, shaking his head. “He eavesdropped on us a bit, I think, because he—” A pause. 

The hard-to-read look suddenly became clear to Yeonjun. It was the same look of when Beomgyu polaroids came out all wrong, or when he miscalculated a toy’s position in a claw game. It was a mix of annoyance, and disappointment—and a little bit of sadness. 

“He what?” Soobin prompted.

Beomgyu looked directly at Yeonjun, opening and closing his mouth as though considering how to tell him. Finally, he choked out the rest of his sentence. 

“He sends his condolences.” 

“The worst thing that could ever happen to a parent is to have their child leave this Earth before them.”

Those were the only words that Yeonjun committed to memory. The conversation he had with his parents was not so much a conversation as much as it was groveling, sobbing, cursing.

There was anger. There was sadness. There was all the love they could offer each other. 

Though it broke his heart, Yeonjun begged his parents to let him go for the simple reason that he couldn’t bear the thought of passing away in their presence. He promised to call, if he could. He swore to have Beomgyu and Soobin at his side, at all times, to call them if he couldn’t. 

Then his father told him about the worst thing that could happen—how it was already happening—, and he hugged Yeonjun with a finality that didn’t need any spoken goodbye, and Yeonjun damn near reconsidered throwing it all away to spend his final hours with them.

Holding on to his pride, he hugged his father back. He gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. 

He asked that they both smile so his last image of them would be “not all that sad.”

And, just like that, the Chois let go of their only son. 

The cab ride back to Hueningkai and Taehyun was a solemn one. Yeonjun was thankful that neither Beomgyu nor Soobin felt the need to speak. They had waited outside Yeonjun’s home while he was saying his goodbyes to his parents, and they had let him take the window seat where he could stare listlessly out at the highway. This is the last time I’ll see this strip of road, Yeonjun numbly thought to himself. It was tiring to think in lasts. It was all he could seem to do as the minutes ticked by.

Ping. 

Hueningkai, whose Instagram account previously had zero photos, had just uploaded a photo of him posing with Taehyun. Lotte World all to ourselves!!!~ , the caption said.

“That’s new,” Beomgyu mumbled, looking at the post over Yeonjun’s shoulder.

“We saw each other practically every day for the past two years,” Soobin interjected, voice hollow. He was staring at Hueningkai’s post on his own phone. “Hyuka never saw the point in posting about us, because it wasn’t like we were going anywhere.”

The implication of Soobin’s words weighed heavy in the air. Now that two of us are dying, Hueningkai wants to capture whatever we have left. 

“I’m just glad to finally be Instagram official,” Beomgyu blurted out.

Both Soobin and Yeonjun shook their head, but Yeonjun was secretly glad to have an excuse to laugh. 

By the time they got to Lotte World, Hueningkai and Taehyun were already donning ridiculous animal headbands and sharing some honey butter chips.

“I got you guys headbands, too!” Hueningkai said. He pulled three out of his bag and proceeded to pass Beomgyu and Soobin theirs. Hueningkai asked Yeonjun to bend down so he could put it on himself.

“A fox?” Yeonjun asked, skeptically eyeing his reflection in a nearby shop mirror.

“Don’t you look like one?” Hueningkai shot back.

“How am I a bear?” Beomgyu whined, pinching the brown ears of his own headband.

Soobin quickly retorted, “Because you’re un-bear-able!”

It was a terrible pun but all the boys chuckled a bit nonetheless. Beomgyu yelled “Yah!”, reaching out to hit Soobin— who swiftly dodged, which meant Beomgyu’s slap landed on the small of Taehyun’s back. The chase that ensued had Soobin, Hueningkai, and Yeonjun doubling over in laughter.

“By the way,” Yeonjun mused out loud as they started strolling down the amusement park’s mostly empty avenues. “Why are we here after hours? Lotte World should be closed.”

Hueningkai’s face fell, and Yeonjun suddenly wished that he never asked.

“Lotte World is tied in with Death-cast,” Beomgyu answered instead. He and Taehyun had caught up to the rest, done with their chase. The latter looked a little out of breath; Yeonjun concernedly glanced over at him, to which Taehyun responded with a thumbs up and a gesture to keep listening to Beomgyu. “They allot their after-hours to people who might want to spend their last day here.”

Not wanting to dampen the mood any further, Yeonjun forced on a smirk. He threw an arm around Hueningkai’s shoulders and gave him a light shove forward

“Let’s make the most out of it then!” Yeonjun said resolutely. “Come on, Hyuka. We’ll go wherever you pick!”

That made Hueningkai light up like a Christmas tree. For the first time that night, Yeonjun felt like he’d done something right.

And go wherever Hueningkai picked they did. After around an hour or so, Soobin was already calling for something less exciting. “I don’t think my heart can take any more of this,” he cried dramatically.

“How about there?” Hueningkai said excitedly. Four pairs of eyes followed to see where he was pointing: A photobooth.

 “Perfect,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve been meaning to take some photos.”

 “Why don’t we go first, hyung?”

The other boys fell quiet when Taehyun addressed Yeonjun. Taehyun was smiling delicately, face flushed from the consecutive high-stakes rides. In one hand, he held a squirrel stuffed toy that Beomgyu had won him at a shooting game.

Taehyun looked so serene. So alive, Yeonjun thought in awe.

Yeonjun grinned back at his friend. “I’d like that.”

The two slid into the booth as Beomgyu, Hueningkai, and Soobin looked at costumes for themselves.

“This is part of my bucket list,” Yeonjun shared as he started loading the coins into its slot. “I wanted to give them photos of us, for them to remember.”

“That’s smart,” Taehyun responded. “We won’t have enough photos of each other to go by.”

Yeonjun swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look directly at Taehyun. Outside the booth, they could hear the sounds of Hueningkai and Soobin arguing over a plastic mustache.

If they tried really hard, they could pretend that it was just like any other day—and shouldn’t it be like that anyway, Yeonjun contemplated. He debated about asking Taehyun whether he thought this was for the best; knowing they’d pass within 24 hours.

As if sensing Yeonjun’s internal conflict, Taehyun reached out to push the last few coins into their slot. The photobooth roared to life, a woman’s voice welcoming them and instructing them on what to click next. Neither of the two tapped on anything on the screen.

But then Taehyun shrugged. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Let’s leave them with good-looking photos of us.”

Before the two could pose properly, though, Beomgyu burst through the curtains of the photo booth. “Cheese!” he screeched, throwing himself over Taehyun and Yeonjun’s legs.

“Hey!” Yeonjun protested, trying to shove Beomgyu off his lap. Meanwhile, Taehyun started giggling and making room for Beomgyu on the bench.

Click. Click. Click.

“Why must you ruin everything?” Yeonjun groaned as the photo strips printed out. In the first two photos, he and Taehyun looked fine; the remaining four were extremely chaotic with Beomgyu’s unexpected entrance.

“You look best here, don’t you think?” Beomgyu said innocently, pointing out the picture where Yeonjun was mid-yell. The older boy raised his hand as if to smack Beomgyu, who promptly ducked behind Hueningkai for protection.

“We can take more,” Taehyun assured. Despite his tousled hair and the beads of sweat trailing down his face, he shone brighter than he ever had. There was a reassuring smile on his face, one that had found comfort in an inevitable fate. 

When all is said and done, that is how Yeonjun chooses to remember Taehyun; the healthy, happy Taehyun of this moment.

Yeonjun doesn’t know that yet, of course. Not while it’s happening. “I want one with our baby Hyuka,” he announced, reaching out for the youngest of their group.

“I’ll get some with Soobin and Beomgyu then,” Taehyun responded.

They took photos with each other and of each other. Taehyun and Yeonjun eventually got their own photo strip without Beomgyu interrupting. The five of them had at least seven different sets together until they’d run through each prop the booth had to offer, and they’d played with every single filter available.

Hueningkai held on to the photo strips as if they were important documents. As they went out to grab some snacks at one of the nearby food stalls, Yeonjun followed Hueningkai wandering over to a corner.

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asked.

The blonde boy had laid out all the photos and was attempting to take a picture of them. “Oh, I was making a post on my Instagram account,” he admitted, sounding a bit shy of the fact.

“I saw you posted for the first time earlier.”

“Yeah, I never had a reason to use my account before. I guess I just... want to document today. I don’t want to forget anything.”

The slight quiver in his voice damn near made Yeonjun cry. Reeling in his emotions, Yeonjun moved around some of the photo strips. “Here,” he said. “I think it looks better like that.”

Smiling appreciatively, Hueningkai snapped his picture.

“What should I caption it?”

They both paused, contemplating. 

“Ah, I’ve got it!” Hueningkai said excitedly, typing away at his phone. Yeonjun peered over his shoulder to check.

“‘Five forever,’” Yeonjun read out loud.

“Five forever,” Hueningkai repeated resolutely, looking straight at Yeonjun. “No matter what.”  

If he had a choice, Yeonjun would have gone out dancing. 

Dance was one of the few constants in his life. It was something Yeonjun whole-heartedly knew that he was good at. He meant to be an instructor, even, had the Death-cast call never happened.

His peers constantly joked that he was in the running to take over their studio’s director role. Guess they were wrong, Yeonjun bitterly thought to himself as he intently scrolled through his phone for a song. 

His final dance break song. 

The boys had set out after Lotte World to go clothes shopping when Yeonjun remembered one of the other to-dos on his list. Film and post a dance video. They took a detour to the nearest park and loitered a bit, and Yeonjun was reckoned with the most difficult decision of his dancing career. 

All this time, he refused to upload any clips of him dancing. Sure, there were some up on the Internet; group dances from the studio, an Instagram story here and there from his friends. But Yeonjun had never uploaded one himself— never quite ready for that kind of self-exposure. 

Now or never, he decided. 

“You did Watermelon Sugar earlier today, didn’t you?” Soobin asked as he curiously peered over Yeonjun’s shoulder to check the song options. “The remix with Blow. Why don’t you just redo that?” 

“I want to do something new. Something original,” Yeonjun responded distractedly. FEVER? Paper Hearts? “But all of these, I’ve already danced to.”

“What about one of ours?” Beomgyu offered, yawning and stretching absentmindedly. 

Yeonjun stopped scrolling. 

Taehyun, from a bench away, let out a groan. “You know the demos we make aren’t serious,” he complained. “And don’t you have an ounce of shame, Gyu? Those songs were kind of—”

“Don’t you dare call them bad!” Beomgyu interrupted defensively. “Our songs could have made it big if you weren’t so keen on locking them up!”

“Upload it once I’m gone, then,” Taehyun deadpanned. “Call that shit posthumous.” 

As Beomgyu flinched and Hueningkai rained a few punches down Taehyun’s back, Yeonjun sped through their group chat to find the recording of their latest arrangement. They’d composed only around half of it, promising each other that they would continue the rest on their next first Friday. 

The rock instrumentals of their demo LOSER=LOVER struck up and echoed across the empty park. Soobin’s singing came out loud and clear through Yeonjun’s phone speakers.

“I’m a loser, I’m a loser,” Soobin crooned along with the audio. In the background, Taehyun covered his ears and Beomgyu perked up, ready to steal Yeonjun’s parts in the song. 

Had it been any other day, Yeonjun would have rolled his eyes at the younger boy, but his mind was busy putting together the pieces of a possible dance routine. Usually, it took him days to come up with one that he was content with. He didn’t have that much time tonight.

“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Yeonjun announced after one full listen of the unfinished track. He stood and positioned himself between the row of blooming dogwood trees, trying to shake out the lingering uneasiness.

“I can film you!” Hueningkai cried out excitedly, standing across Yeonjun as the latter did some light stretching. Yeonjun shot him an appreciative thumbs up. 

Inhale. They’d all seen him dance before; he could just never fully shake his nervousness. The others seemed to pick up on this, quickly giving Yeonjun small forms of affirmation.

Beomgyu let out encouraging hoots and chanted Yeonjun’s name. Taehyun finally lowered his hands from his ears, smiling assuredly in anticipation of the routine. And Soobin pulled out his own phone, finger poised expectantly over his record button. 

Exhale. 

Yeonjun hit play, and immediately found himself consumed by the music.

It was like second nature to him. Every agile step, every sharp turn. He followed along to the song as if it were something he’d practiced his whole life. Each beat reverberated to his very bone, filling his chest with so much joy he felt like a balloon that just might burst.

“Here comes the good stuff!” Beomgyu squealed as Taehyun started humming along. Love you, love you, love you; no matter what I do. 

“I say run, laugh like you’ve gone mad, ” Hueningkai belted out. Yeonjun almost missed a step because of how it distracted him, but he was glad to have small disturbances such as Beomgyu trying to mimic his dance moves or Taehyun finally screaming the lyrics out loud as well.

The post-chorus was his and Beomgyu’s part. It was the easiest choreography to think of, too. I’m a loser, his pre-recorded self sang, and the Yeonjun dancing threw up an L with his pointer finger and thumb. He broke out into a smile, feeling as if the world were spinning. 

It’s the sensation he’ll miss the most. The heat, the soreness. Even then, he knows that his body will ache most for the rush he had come to adore. 

The song ended abruptly, and Yeonjun snapped out of his trance.

The boys were all clapping and cheering. “I can’t believe you did all that in one go,” Taehyun complimented as Beomgyu and Hueningkai surged forward to envelope Yeonjun in a hug. 

“I’m sweaty!” the oldest boy complained laughingly, allowing them to embrace him nonetheless.

“I have the fan cam version!” Soobin joked, holding up his phone. “Where do you want it?” 

Grinning widely over Beomgyu and Hueningkai’s shoulders, Yeonjun told Soobin, “Everywhere.” 

If there was anything Beomgyu and Yeonjun so intimately shared, it would be their terrific sense of fashion— something the rest of the boys were so painfully ignorant about. 

So when Yeonjun had to choose someone to accompany him to the 24/7 Myeongdeong thrift shops— Taehyun complained that he was tired and wanted to go back to his dorm— the answer was as clear as day. Beomgyu and Yeonjun promised to regroup with them back at Taehyun’s within an hour.

It was a comforting shopping spree, actually. Beomgyu must have toned down his energy, only hitting Yeonjun with the occasional wisecrack compared to the typical several jokes per minute. Briefly, Yeonjun worried that he was being pitied. 

“This would look good on Hyuka,” Beomgyu commented, holding up a light gray sweatshirt for Yeonjun to see. The two were in their last store. They already had eco bags crammed to the brim with clothes, but they’d decided to do a final stop before heading home.

“I was thinking about this one for Soobin,” Yeonjun said in turn, showing off a black and yellow embroidered vest. 

“That one’s nice.”

“I think Hyuka would fit comfortably in that panel shirt over there, too.” 

After snagging a couple more overrun Ralph Lauren pieces and three pairs of specs for Soobin, the two fell in line for checkout. “I can’t believe we didn’t do this more often,” Beomgyu hummed, rustling through the picks. “Shopping with Soobin was so boring. He only ever wanted to go to the department store.”

“I gave up on Hyuka, too,” Yeonjun laughed. He was excited to see Hueningkai’s expression; a lot of the clothes they’d picked for him were sure to fit his style. “This should be enough to last them for a little while.”

“And then they’ll go back to their plain clothes?” 

“And then you’ll buy them more.” 

A long pause followed Yeonjun’s words.

Though he had packaged it as a joke, they both knew the underlying message lurking under the lighthearted tone. You’ll take care of them, right? Yeonjun was asking. 

Beomgyu pursed his lips together and nodded, answering the unspoken question. I will.

Yeonjun gave him an appreciative smile. I knew I could count on you. 

“What else do you have on your bucket list, anyway?” Beomgyu asked in an effort to change the topic. They shuffled forward awkwardly, the line in front of them moving along rather slow. 

“Just some serious stuff left, really,” Yeonjun replied vaguely. To write his last will and testament was still left unchecked. He wasn’t sure how or when he’d do it; sitting down and accepting his fate like that was a terrifying ordeal. “There is one that’s pretty tame, but I’m thinking of just crossing it out completely.” 

“Which?” 

“To go on a date.” Yeonjun laughed at the thought of it. It seemed so trivial now. 

He’d put it down because he hadn’t really had the time to go on a proper date. Though his mother tried setting him up with her neighbors’ daughters— and even though Soobin offered a double date every now and then— Yeonjun found that he was always too busy, too disinterested, too insecure.

A small part of him wished he’d said yes to at least one of them so he could have a memory at a cafe or a cinema. But he was so caught up in thinking that he had so much more time than he actually did, and he thought his first date would be something special— only to have it not happen at all. 

Nothing good comes to those who wait, he thought woefully. 

Beomgyu whipped out his phone and clicked on an app. Leaning over to peek, Yeonjun saw that it was for dating. He knew that Beomgyu and Soobin had profiles. He just couldn’t be bothered to get one, too. Putting himself out there like that felt scary. 

“This is a great way to find a date, even if you’re in a bit of a clutch,” Beomgyu chirped. “I’ve used it before when I needed someone to go with me to a wedding or a school fair.” 

“That’s smart.” 

“I know right? Anyway— we’re not here to talk about the obvious.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes, but Beomgyu barreled on. “Let’s make you a profile.” 

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun started hesitantly. Beomgyu was quick to interject. 

“What are you scared of?” he challenged. “What do you have to lose, really?” 

Yesterday, Yeonjun might have answered his dignity or his pride. In the thrift shop, though, he begrudgingly had to admit that Beomgyu was right. He had nothing to lose. 

“Sign me up,” Yeonjun conceded, and Beomgyu broke out into a proud grin. 

After arguing over which photos of Yeonjun to choose, Beomgyu typed out a prospective bio to go on his profile. Urgent: Dying boy seeking a mind-blowing date that will let him go out with a bang. 

“You make it sound so dirty,” Yeonjun groaned, grabbing the phone from Beomgyu and deleting the entire text.

As the latter protested, Yeonjun tried his hand at a bio. Less than 24 hours left and looking for love. Be my baby before burying me six feet under? 

“How pessimistic!” Beomgyu cried disapprovingly, though both of them were shaking with laughter. For a short while, they took turns writing terrible descriptions.

Beomgyu typed out Let’s kill this love, to which Yeonjun added ‘Till (my) death do we part.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Beomgyu concluded as he gasped for air. “Come on, we’re not even in the actual app yet.”

The next screen asked for Yeonjun’s dating preference.

Beomgyu tapped on the ‘Women’ button, showing it to Yeonjun for approval.

Riding on their shared joy and his newfound confidence, Yeonjun mindlessly blurted out, “Can you actually choose ‘Both’?”

In our life, we often experience “oh” moments. Modest points in time where so many things can shift in a split second. For both Beomgyu and Yeonjun— in that thrift shop line, with their sore arms carrying more clothes that either of them could ever need— that was one of those junctures for the two of them.

“Oh,” Beomgyu said, and it occurred to Yeonjun, suddenly. What he’d asked for. 

Fear went off in Yeonjun’s brain like a screeching, bright red fire alarm. He wanted to take it back. He could say it was a joke.

But there was something in Beomgyu’s face— an expression that wasn’t of judgment or disgust. There was a gentle hopefulness to the way he looked at Yeonjun then. He looked so painfully reassuring, so ready to accept whatever Yeonjun wanted to do, wanted to be. 

So how could Yeonjun lie to him? 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun choked out, clenching his jaw nervously. 

“I never knew,” Beomgyu mumbled before switching the options. Then, quickly, he added: “Me, too. I mean—I chose ‘Both’, too. I’m… I am, too.” 

It was Yeonjun’s turn to say “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu chuckled. “I guess you never know, huh?” 

Yeonjun nodded wordlessly, hoping that Beomgyu wouldn’t prod any further. Thankfully, the cashier finally called them to the front.

As Yeonjun unloaded the clothes they’d shopped, Beomgyu gestured that he’d do it. He shoved his phone at Yeonjun and pushed him to one side.

“If you want a date, you should get busy swiping,” Beomgyu said, beaming with amusement as he geared up for his punch line. “Let them know you’re dead serious.”

Hueningkai, Soobin, and Taehyun were watching something on Netflix by the time Beomgyu and Yeonjun got back. 

The three were settled comfortably on the couch, sharing several opened bags of junk food and two bottles of cider. “Is that Squid Game? You’re watching without me?!” Beomgyu whined, trying to grab the remote from Soobin. 

“I’m dying. I think I deserve to know what happens in episode six,” Taehyun said blankly before popping a chip in his mouth. Beomgyu pretended not to hear him, still scuffling with an indignant Soobin who was trying hard not to tear his gaze away from the screen. Meanwhile, Hueningkai greeted Yeonjun and helped him carry the bags into the room. 

“Oh, this is so soft!” Hueningkai cried, zeroing out on the sweatshirt from earlier.

“Beomgyu picked that out for you,” Yeonjun said proudly. 

“Thank you, Gyu!” 

With Beomgyu successfully pausing the show, Soobin leaned over to inspect the pile of clothes that Hueningkai had toppled over. “This is a lot,” he said in awe.

“Please, this is barely half of what Yeonjun and I have,” Beomgyu scoffed. 

As Taehyun ducked out to go to the bathroom, the boys sorted through the articles of clothing. Hueningkai and Soobin were incredibly enthusiastic, building each other’s pile of new clothes; mixing and matching some on the spot. While Beomgyu was criticizing their pairings, Yeonjun once again noticed a gap in their group.

A space that was left unfilled. 

Yeonjun excused himself and stumbled over the clothes, towards the bathroom. It was unlocked. He peeked inside and found it empty. Something in his stomach sank at the sight of minuscule blood droplets on the toilet lid. How had no one noticed Taehyun slipping away? 

Suddenly hyperaware, Yeonjun heard the distant, muted click of the front door closing. 

Why was Taehyun trying to slip away? 

Telling the rest that they were going on a quick 7-Eleven run— and swearing to the other boys that they’d both come back in one piece—Yeonjun grabbed his windbreaker and rushed out to follow Taehyun. It didn’t take much to find him. He was hanging out at the bus stop nearest his dorm, a city map in his hands. 

Taehyun didn’t look surprised to see Yeonjun jogging up to him. 

“Of course you’d notice,” Taehyun said once Yeonjun had reached him. “Do the others know?” 

“We’re at 7-Eleven,” Yeonjun responded stiffly. The other boy cocked his head to one side as if assessing the lie. 

“Believable. You should grab some bread for Soobin on your way back.” 

“On our way back.” 

“I’m not going back there, and you know it.” 

Cold, callous, and calculating. Those were the typical words one would use to describe Taehyun. In their group, Taehyun was the most stable and reliable; he managed Beomgyu’s erratic moods and always looked out for Hueningkai.

It was easy to forget that he was on the younger end, considering how mature he always presented himself to be. 

None of that maturity seemed to shine through in that very bus stop. Yeonjun saw Taehyun for what he was: A teenage boy counting his minutes left. 

“Why not?” Yeonjun asked. He was firmly rooted to his spot. As much as Taehyun looked like he wanted to be alone, Yeonjun just couldn’t cut him some slack. “Come on, Taehyun. Come home with me.” 

“I’m sick, hyung. I’ve been for a while now,” Taehyun said with a sad, sad. “You’ve noticed, right?” 

Yeonjun had noticed. He’d taken trips to the drug store to buy Taehyun some painkillers. He’d cooked him soup for comfort. He’d even insisted that they should go to the hospital and check it out, but Taehyun was dead set on riding out what they thought to be a run-of-the-mill flu. 

“I finally got it checked this morning. My sister brought me. No one could figure out a proper diagnosis, but right after our appointment—” Taehyun faltered. He met Yeonjun’s eyes. “The damn Death-cast call is so scripted, isn’t it?” 

Yeonjun slumped down onto the vacant seat next to Taehyun.

“Anyway, I told my family over lunch,” Taehyun went on. “I wasn’t planning on letting the boys know—I just wanted to have a nice dinner and call it a day—but you…” 

“How did you know before I told you? You looked like you already had a feeling.” 

“I’ve always been the smartest one,” Taehyun retorted. Yeonjun wouldn’t have contested him either way. 

Humoring Yeonjun, Taehyun folded his hands over his lap and smirked ever so slightly. “We both balked at Hueningkai saying that the pizza was ‘to die for’,” he said. “I don’t think you would have reacted that way were it any other day. For you to react to something as offhanded as that, you must be worried about dying.” 

“Why aren’t you saying goodbye?” Yeonjun asked abruptly, the words tumbling over each other as his curiosity got the best of him. Taehyun winced in the slightest.

Taehyun didn’t owe Yeonjun an explanation, but Yeonjun couldn’t think straight. If he could, he would keep Taehyun by his side for the rest of their 24 hours. It was cruel to admit that Yeonjun didn’t want to be the one left living.

“I want to die alone,” Taehyun said decisively after a pause.

“Where no one I love will have to find me. My family thinks I’m with you. And you,” he looked straight at Yeonjun. “Will let the boys think that I’m with my family.” 

Yeonjun recoiled as if he’d been punched. “You want me to lie to them?” 

“Consider it my dying wish.”

“Taehyun!” 

“Yeonjun.” The missing honorific made them both falter a bit. Taehyun took the edge out of his tone for his next words.

“I won’t be in the middle of nowhere. There’s a wing at the Seoul National Hospital for people who have been called. They make the funeral preparations and when you— when you’re— they let your legal guardian know. My sister knows, so she’s ready to pick me up.” 

“I don’t want any of you to see me lose any more of my strength than I already have,” Taehyun went on steadily. “Let them remember the Taehyun who went to Lotte World with them. The Taehyun who tried his best not to spoil Squid Game. Let that be who I am. Not the Taeyun who’s coughing up blood.” For added effect, Taehyun reached out to clasp Yeonjun’s hands. He clung tightly, even as Yeonjun tried to pull away. “You’ll do that for me. Won’t you, hyung?” Taehyun pleaded, voice cracking. “You’ll let me have this.” 

“You are cruel, Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun responded through gritted teeth. “You are heartless and insensitive, and I will never forgive you.” 

In turn, Taehyun gave him a gentle smile. The bus was rolling up to the stop. There’s no one here for you, Yeonjun wanted to yell at the driver. You’re not going to take him from me.  

“There are letters on the bedside table,” he said. “I’ve left my phone at home, too, because when they start calling, I’ll want to answer— and it will take everything in me not to.”

Taehyun released his grip on Yeonjun. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll never be sorry enough.” 

“If you’re really sorry, you wouldn’t be leaving,” Yeonjun seethed. He knew that he sounded hopeless and whiny, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he was hurting. 

Taehyun flinched at his words; Yeonjun didn’t take them back. He trusted that Taehyun knew the depth of his distress and why this was so difficult for him. 

It was a sorrow so deep that Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to hug Taehyun back as the latter mumbled his goodbyes. 

At his own death, Yeonjun will think of that moment. It will be his one regret. 

Taehyun boarded the night bus that would shuttle him to Seoul National Hospital. Contrary to Yeonjun’s belief, Taehyun was oblivious to Yeonjun’s pain of mourning someone who was still alive.

The younger boy sat with his heavy heart, wondering if he was making the smart— no, the right— choice. 

The bus pulled away from the stop and Taehyun glanced at Yeonjun through the window’s reflection. Slumped in defeat, his friend remained motionless before standing. Taehyun expected Yeonjun to head back to his dorm. 

But then Yeonjun hit the ground running. 

He darted down the sidewalk, following the bus’s route. Taehyun sat up. Palm against the window, he watched Yeonjun sprint past pedestrians and haphazardly slide down the pavement.

“That boy’s crazy,” the bus driver commented offhandedly. 

It was a scene straight out of a television drama, and it made Taehyun laugh in spite of himself. Thankfully, Yeonjun’s chase was cut short as the bus stopped at a red light. To Taehyun’s absolute horror, the older boy started banging his fists against the bus’s sliding doors.

“Hey, stop that!” the bus driver yelled. “I’ll call the police on you, you psycho!”

Yeonjun kept knocking, demanding entry. “I just need one minute! Please, just give me one minute!” 

“Get the fuck away from this bus right now, kid!” 

Unnerved, Yeonjun took a step back and did a quick scan of the bus until his eyes met Taehyun’s.

Without missing a beat, the older boy hollered loud enough that Taehyun could hear his sincerity through the glass: “I forgive you, Kang Taehyun! I forgive you!”

The stoplight turned green and the bus quickly pulled away from the intersection, leaving Yeonjun standing dejected on the street. As the bus driver cursed him and the other commuters whispered among themselves, Taehyun buried his face in the crook of his elbow to hide his face. 

He was stupidly relieved to finally be alone. Later, when they give him a room to pass away in, he will assure the attending nurse that he has made peace with his fate. But in the bus where there are nothing but strangers, where no one knows who Taehyun is, he allows himself the grace of fearing death. 

And for the first time in a long time— for the last time in his young life— Kang Taehyun let himself cry. 

As Yeonjun expected, the boys weren’t happy with the lie of Taehyun heading back home. 

They weren’t angry. None of them could seem to be mad at the dying boy.

Hueningkai was upset, constantly ringing Taehyun’s cell; Yeonjun itched to tell him that it was futile. Soobin buried his head in his hands, the forgotten episode of Squid Game playing on in the background.

“The last thing I said to him was that I hated him for watching without me,” Beomgyu said. His empty gaze was trained towards the television. “I’m never going to be able to take that back.” 

“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it,” Yeonjun said. He thought of his last image of Taehyun; hand to the window, jaw slack with shock. “This is what he wanted.”

Hueningkai collapsed onto the couch after his nth phone call went unanswered. No one could look at each other, so they quietly sat through the duration of the show’s episode.

The sounds of Soobin’s sniffles echoed in the small room, overlapping with Taehyun’s voicemail recording. 

Hello, this is Kang Taehyun. I can’t answer your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. 

“He left letters,” Yeonjun announced as Squid Game ’s credits rolled. “They’re in his room.” 

No one responded. It was as if Yeonjun hadn’t spoken at all. 

“I’m going to go read mine. You can come with me if you want.” 

Neither Beomgyu, Hueningkai, nor Soobin moved an inch. 

Standing so suddenly that he knocked into the coffee table, Yeonjun let out a hiss before glancing at his remaining friends. They refused to meet his eyes. He wished he could do something for them, but he was honestly just as broken and betrayed. 

“Suit yourself,” he said wretchedly, not meaning to have so much venom in his tone. He stalked into Taehyun’s room and made it a point to slam the door close behind him. 

It took Yeonjun a moment to realize that Taehyun had prepared for this. Most of the room was bare, save for a few cardboard boxes in one corner.

When Yeonjun took a peek, he realized that Taehyun had packed away everything; his camera, his posters, his clothes. All that was left was his mattress, where four envelopes were neatly laid out in a row. 

“You’re not actually going to read your letter.” 

Yeonjun didn’t jump at the sudden intrusion. Beomgyu wasn’t asking a question, either; he was stating a fact. 

“No, I’m not,” Yeonjun admitted, staring at the precise handwriting that lined the outside of the named letters. “Not yet.” 

“Okay. Well, I will.” 

To Yeonjun’s shock, Beomgyu stepped past him and snatched the paper that had his name. He ripped open the envelope and got to reading. Cautiously, Yeonjun watched Beomgyu. 

Slowly, Beomgyu’s shoulders dropped. When he bent his head, Yeonjun realized what was happening.

Beomgyu’s sobs were quiet— unassuming and wounded. The grief washed over the two of them like waves. Yeonjun did not know how to keep his head above the water.  

“He loved us, right?” Beomgyu asked suddenly, turning to face Yeonjun. “Even if he left. He loved us.” 

“He did.” 

“And he knows I never hated him. He had to have known that.” 

“He did.” 

With the back of his fist, Beomgyu forcefully wiped the tears out of his eyes. Yeonjun is struck by how young he looks; by how young they all are, to have to deal with all this. 

“I should have been nicer to him,” Beomgyu said. He glanced down at the letter before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then maybe... “ 

“It wouldn’t have changed his mind,” Yeonjun said quietly. Then, because he didn’t know what else to say, he simply repeated himself from earlier that night: “This is what he wanted.” 

Beomgyu didn’t point it out, anyway. He sighed heavily and shut his eyes, seemingly letting the worst of the news hit him. Yeonjun knew he ought to have done something then— maybe reached out and hugged the younger boy— but he was too lost in his own misery to realize that Beomgyu’s heartbreak ran deeper, if only because Taehyun’s affections for him were different. The letter gave away as much.

Like a switch that had been flipped, Beomgyu forced himself to speak in a lighter tone. “You’ve still got a few things on your bucket list, right? Why don’t we get them done?” 

“I hardly think that a date is appropriate right no—” 

“‘This is what he wanted,’” Beomgyu parroted, mimicking even Yeonjun’s intonation. “I’m sure Taehyun would hate to see you moping.” 

Yeonjun shook his head, too tired to argue. “I haven’t matched with anyone on the app. And besides, I can’t imagine going out with a stranger who will have no idea what I’m going through.” 

“Then go out with me.” 

The shocked silence that followed stretched between the two of them, filling every corner of the room.

Yeonjun was taken back to the compliment he paid Beomgyu earlier that night. I’ve always loved how shameless you can be. The thin line between brashness and bravery blurred at that moment as Yeonjun gawked at Beomgyu, who refused to falter. 

“I won’t ask why you seem sad or what your thoughts are on death,” Beomgyu insisted. “We’ll grab a coffee. Share a bingsu. And I’ll pretend not to know much about you so I can ask you what your blood type is, then I’ll lie that we’re compatible.” 

“That’s a thing?” Yeonjun asked dumbly. 

Beomgyu gave the older boy a watery smile. “Anything for a second date. But since we can only have one, I promise to cram in everything you’ve been missing out on. I’ll even fight for the bill.” 

“Why?” 

“Why would I fight for the bill?” 

“No, no. Why are you— Why are you doing this?” 

Beomgyu’s hesitation was fleeting. Yeonjun caught it nonetheless. If he had only been a little more observant, he might have noticed the blush tinging Beomgyu’s ear or the tremor in his twitching fingers. 

“Because it’s on your bucket list,” Beomgyu said. “Taehyun finished his. You should get to clear yours, too.” 

There was no way for Yeonjun to know if Beomgyu was lying. Taehyun had kept his bucket list mostly a secret, though he had assured Yeonjun at some point that it was ‘short and sweet’. It was likely that he had divulged in Beomgyu, and Yeonjun wasn’t in the business of doubting such a simple fact.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a little more to Beomgyu’s offer. Yeonjun reflected if the proposition would have still come up had their thrift shop conversation not happened.

But Beomgyu was never insincere, and Yeonjun wanted to give him a tender memory that only the two of them shared. 

And so Yeonjun said yes. When Beomgyu tried his hardest not to smile too widely, the older boy forced himself to quiet the fluttering in his chest.

This was not part of the plan. Vaguely, he felt like he was making a mistake. 

How could he be, though, he thought, as Beomgyu beamed and blabbered about where they should go? 

How could such a good thing be wrong? 

It happened like this.

The two agreed on a nearby breakfast cafe. Yeonjun had avoided counting down, but it was difficult to miss the fact that the sun had already risen. That meant he had only a few more hours before his 24 were up.

Yeonjun got to the cafe first because Beomgyu said he’d stop by somewhere with Hueningkai. Soobin was initially reluctant, finally letting them go and succumbing to the fact that he was emotionally spent. When Yeonjun left Taehyun’s dorm, Soobin was napping on the couch.

Yeonjun made it a point to tuck a blanket around him.

Bored out of his mind, Yeonjun was carving Taehyun’s initials into the wooden table when it happened. 

And it happened so fast. 

He heard Beomgyu calling his name. He looked up to see the younger boy holding a bouquet of tulips.

There was a sweet smile on his face and a spring in his step as he locked eyes with Yeonjun and skipped down the pedestrian lane. It touched Yeonjun, that Beomgyu had gone out of his way to buy him blue and purple tulips; his favorite flowers in his favorite color.

A grin was tugging at Yeonjun’s lips when the speeding car slammed mercilessly into Beomgyu’s frame.

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re dying. Yeonjun had always wanted to know what his highlight reel would look like. He had never thought that you could imagine someone else’s life while they were dying.

Vision blurring with panic as he rushed to Beomgyu’s side, Yeonjun found himself flooded with flashbulb moments of Beomgyu. 

The first time he’d lost a game to him. Their arguments over mint chocolate chip ice cream. Beomgyu coining the term ‘hiccup’ for the trip-ups on Yeonjun’s Good Days, after Hueningkai had accidentally cleaned out his hard drive while downloading anime. 

This was the worst hiccup that could possibly happen, Yeonjun thought as he dropped to his knees.

Beomgyu looked dazed, lying motionless on the pavement. As Yeonjun scooped him up, the younger boy looked up at him with a bleary expression, seeming more confused than hurt.

“Hey,” Beomgyu croaked. “I think I got hit.” 

“Hey,” Yeonjun responded, trying his best not to sound too hysterical lest he scare Beomgyu. “You’re fine, though. You’re fine.” 

The driver of the car stepped out of his vehicle, looking horrified. One side of Yeonjun filled with a searing, murderous rage. He was about to stand and swing at the stranger until Beomgyu started coughing vigorously. 

“Call a hospital! Now!” Yeonjun bellowed at the driver. His voice cracked with desperation. “He’s not supposed to die today. He’s not supposed to die!”

“Hyung—” Beomgyu tried to say, failing to finish his sentence as he spat up more blood. 

Cradling Beomgyu’s head in his lap, Yeonjun clung onto his friend tightly. “I don’t understand,” he stuttered. “I don’t—I can’t—”

Beomgyu was mumbling something incoherent. Yeonjun leaned in closer, catching Beomgyu’s repeating words: “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, idiot?” Yeonjun whimpered. “You can’t die. You’re not going to die. You haven’t been called yet, Beomgyu.”

It’s in that earth-shattering moment— as Beomgyu wasted his breath apologizing, struggling to keep his eyes open but trying his best to look straight at Yeonjun anyway— it’s then that it dawned on Yeonjun.

Beomgyu had known about Lotte World and Death-cast. Beomgyu had tried his best to squeeze into all of Taehyun and Yeonjun’s photos. And Beomgyu at the restaurant fronting had echoed the script Yeonjun heard in the studio’s locker room.

Don’t you want to live the rest of your life fully? 

“You haven’t been called yet,” Yeonjun repeated. He knew he was in denial at this point, but this was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. “Come on. Tell me you haven’t been called.”

Instead of doing as he was asked, Beomgyu reached out to hold Yeonjun’s face.

The slightest movement seemed to take so much of his remaining energy, yet he persisted despite Yeonjun’s protests. Delicately, Beomgyu cupped Yeonjun’s cheek with one of his hands. 

“I didn’t want anyone worrying over me,” he admitted softly. It broke Yeonjun, how uncharacteristically frail Beomgyu sounded. “I thought death would be a little easier on me.”

Yeonjun wailed, doubling over to bury his face in Beomgyu’s shoulder. The sharp smell of smoke and blood hit him hard. “Damn you, Beomgyu. We wasted all your time doing things that Taehyun wanted— that I wanted—”

Beomgyu laughed and winced immediately right after. 

“All I ever wanted to do was to be with you four,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun started crying so hard that he was sure this would be the cause of his own death— the way the sobs wracked his frame, the pure fear that struck his heart.

Beomgyu’s voice was barely above a whisper as he went on. “I’m sorry you never got to go on your date, hyung,” he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the bouquet he had been carrying.

Save for a petal or two, the tulips had miraculously survived the impact. Red spots stained the kraft wrapping paper. “I like to think I would have been a good one,” Beomgyu breathed.  

“You would have been the best,” Yeonjun said fiercely. Beomgyu smiled contentedly.

“I know you’re just saying that, but I’ll take it,” he responded. His eyes fluttered to a close and the pained expression on his face softened. For a heartbeat, Yeonjun was scared that he’d lost him.

Thankfully, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, his unfocused gaze trying to find Yeonjun’s own.

“Hey, don’t give up on me now,” Yeonjun begged. He closed his fingers around Beomgyu’s shoulder, pulling the younger boy closer to his chest.

They could both hear the distant sounds of an ambulance siren. “We’ve still got a lot to do. Hyuka and Soobin are still waiting for you.” 

“Hyuka and Soobin…” Beomgyu repeated slowly. “Tell them I love them, won’t you?” 

“Tell them yourself.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t buy them more clothes.”

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” 

“And I’m sorry to be leaving you, hyung.” 

Yeonjun let out a broken sob. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t,” he said. “Stop apologizing, because we’re going to get you to a hospital and patch you up, and we’re going to go on the best date, and you’re going to live many happy years—” 

“Do you want to hear something selfish?” Beomgyu interrupted. The ambulance was rounding the corner. “This whole time, I prayed to go before you.” 

“Why?” Yeonjun asked wretchedly.

The ambulance parked and the driver ran to meet them. “I can’t imagine a world without you, Choi Yeonjun,” Beomgyu said with bated breath. Yeonjun wondered why he’d never noticed it before; the devotion in Beomgyu’s tone, the star-like shine in his eyes. “And I’m glad that I won’t have to.”

As the paramedics rolled out a stretcher— as Yeonjun kept insisting that he could still be saved— Beomgyu thought nothing of the blinding hurt ripping through his body. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in the fact that he was in the arms of someone he loved. Not everyone could say they were half as lucky, he decided. 

Throughout the night, he was curious what his last words would be; if he would have a choice at all. He had wanted it to be something cool, something awesome. But as he clung to Yeonjun, he knew that there was only one last thing to say.

Grinning, he wiped away some tears from Yeonjun’s panicked expression. 

The paramedics were already swooping in and grabbing his ruptured body away from Yeonjun, but the older boy was still hanging on to him as if his own life depended on it. Beomgyu tried to commit the scene to memory.

Yeonjun, with his wild expression and tousled hair; his lips quivering, his eyes full of fear. It pained Beomgyu to leave him like this. Greedily, it relieved him that he would be the one going first. 

“Take all the time you need,” Beomgyu assured, giving Yeonjun’s hand a final squeeze. 

Beomgyu managed the ghost of a smile. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” he said. 

Then he shut his eyes— and nothing much was left after that. 

It turned out that Choi Beomgyu did get to choose his last words after all.

 Yeonjun was the one who made the calls. He let Beomgyu’s parents know, then his brothers.

He called Soobin, who didn’t answer; he called Hueningkai, who picked up on the first ring. 

Hueningkai and Soobin made it to the hospital within ten minutes of the call ending. 

Disoriented, they all listened to a doctor rattle on about comas and chances. “This means he’ll get better, right?” Hueningkai asked no one in particular once the discussion was over. “He hasn’t been called, so he’ll wake up soon enough.” 

The two older boys shared a look. Yeonjun shook his head, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut. Hueningkai watched the brief interaction unfold, stumped by what he was missing out on.

“Beomgyu didn’t get called by Death-cast,” Hueningkai repeated louder, as if his first statement was simply too quiet to be true. “He’s going to wake up from his coma.”

At a loss for words, Yeonjun reached out to hug Hueningkai. Soobin followed in suit. The youngest tried to squirm of their grip, not wanting to accept the implications of their remorse. “Let go of me. Don’t act like— don’t make me think that he— you’re both being—”

Eventually, Hueningkai stopped fighting.

For a moment, he stayed completely still as Soobin and Yeonjun held on to him. The trio stood there in the middle of the hospital hallway, huddled together while bawling over a betrayal that only they could share.

For Yeonjun, it felt like the world was closing in on him. He was spared by the harsh comfort of Hueningkai and Soobin feeling the same emptying loss.

After what felt like an eternity, they stumbled over to one of the waiting room benches so they could regain some strength.

“Did you know?” Soobin asked, voice hollow. 

Yeonjun shook his head. His throat felt raw from all the crying. He couldn’t imagine speaking without wavering. 

Instead, he turned to Hueningkai, who was staring at a photograph. It was his latest Instagram post from an hour or so ago— a shot of the flower shop he and Beomgyu had visited. The bouquet Beomgyu had bought lay a few seats away from the trio. 

“You should make a post here, too,” Yeonjun said suddenly. Hueningkai looked up at him skeptically. He had a right to be dubious; updating one’s Instagram didn’t seem like it ought to be a priority.

But Yeonjun wanted to honor Beomgyu somehow, wanted to immortalize him somewhere. 

“You have to remember,” Yeonjun insisted. “Even the bad things.” 

The rest of the sentence lingered between the two of them. Because soon enough, I won’t be around to remember any of it. 

“Even the bad things,” Hueningkai repeated.

He took a picture of the hallway. As he typed a caption with shaky fingers, Yeonjun rested his head on his shoulder, and Soobin held Yeonjun’s hand.

They drew from each other what little strength they could share. 

They had no other choice. 

Heading back to Taehyun’s dorm was too painful, so they made for Soobin and Yeonjun’s apartment.

They tried to fall into some sense of normalcy by playing a round of a computer game and putting on some bad Netflix film, but it was difficult to will away their loss and pretend that they weren’t waiting to lose a little bit more.

So they talked about Taehyun until there were no more stories to share.

They shared their favorite memories of Beomgyu, laughing so hard at some of the anecdotes that by the end of it, Yeonjun’s sides were in stitches.

They took photos for Hueningkai’s Instagram. They gave Yeonjun time to write his ‘will’. 

Hueningkai asked him if he was scared of dying.

Yeonjun lied and said he wasn’t. 

Soobin asked if he was lying.

Yeonjun let his silence speak for him.

At one point, Yeonjun glanced at the clock, did the math, and realized he had survived 22 hours. Was it possible to cheat Death-cast? Yeonjun wondered, foolishly amused. 

He didn’t have the energy to dwell on the thought. He didn’t have any energy at all, really.

He was so drained that he didn’t even remember dozing off while snuggling with Soobin. He jolted only at the sound of Hueningkai’s loud snore.

The couch was cramped, so Yeonjun dragged himself to his bed. Half-awake, he typed out a text to his parents that meant to let them know that he was okay and that he’d call them after he napped. He was too tired to even know if he hit send. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell right back to sleep. 

He was dreaming of tulips and brown-eyed boys when the cardiac arrest happened.

Choi Yeonjun could not cheat death after all. 

Hueningkai found it nearly impossible to live in the aftermath.

It was made particularly difficult by how much the city reminded him of the past. Like how the dance studio had renamed to YJ Entertainment, honoring their star student by using the script on his final note as their logo. Like how the breakfast cafe never threw out the table with Taehyun's carved initials. Hueningkai once sat at it, only to be dragged under at the sight of KT etched into one corner. 

Soobin was an immense pillar of support. The two remaining boys clung to each other in the first few years, doing everything they could to work around their complex emotions.

Eventually, they realized that the grief would never really go away. All they could do was grow around it. 

Their frequent meetings trickled down to weekly occurrences until they decided to stick to first Fridays— it lasted a few months, but it brought the both of them too much pain. They decided not to force it. They went their separate ways and learned how to live with the mourning.

And they did, really. Hueningkai kept up with Soobin through social media. They never lost touch. They just took some time to heal separately.

It had been a while since they last saw each other. Their last conversation was about how Yeonjun's dance break trended, and how Hueningkai's father was encouraging them to copyright the song. 

The posthumous success that Taehyun joked about, Soobin had said laughingly. Hueningkai found some comfort in the fact that he was not the only one left remembering. 

He never went back to the restaurant they last ate at, though it was hard for him to miss out on the snowball Beomgyu and Yeonjun had unintentionally started.

Unbeknownst to Hueningkai, the two had left a doodle that night; he would only see it spreading on social media a few months later, after the restaurant recognized a tradition that was happening to its patrons. 

"This is pretty cool, isn't it?" 

Hueningkai nodded, staring at the scrawled last words scaling up the restaurant wall. Soobin stood at his side, the two having agreed to meet-up for lunch.

Beomgyu and Yeonjun's little act of vandalism inspired a chain reaction of some sort. Now, those who were called by Death-cast could visit the restaurant for their final meal and, on their way out, leave a small part of themselves behind on the storefront.

"I think Beomgyu would be happy to see this," Hueningkai chuckled. "He'd be excited to be so famous." 

"Yeah, he really would."

The two made their way into the restaurant, making small talk and catching each other up as they waited for the waitress to stop by their booth. When she finally stopped by, Soobin looked up directly at Hueningkai as he spoke.

"I heard the food here is to die for," Soobin said casually. 

Hueningkai stared back, momentarily thrown off. 

And then he smiled— finding peace in the fact that he and Soobin could share one last thing. 

hueningkai's instagram account: @hyukatheloser.

[hotch33tos22]

Over thinkerShoto todoroki x reader

☁️Fluff

You’re in your room studying for exams listening to music when you hear the doorbell ring. You wonder who it could be, as you walk downstairs and open the door to find your boyfriend Shoto standing with an umbrella in the cold rain. He looks like he's been crying for his eyes are red and puffy and he keeps sniffling, ”Shoto! W-whats wrong?!” You practically yell bringing him inside “ are you o-okay!!?” You panic..He shakes his head not saying a word as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind him and he sets down his umbrella. He continues to sniffle and whimper softly as he stands there dripping water all over the floor….

“Oh shoto…”.. “I’ll be right back” .. you go into your room and grab a towel and a pair of your biggest clothes for him, returning towards him you hand him the clothes and towel “ change when you come out we can talk or if you stay like that you’ll get sick..”, “Okay…” He nods and replies as he grabs the towel and the clothes you give to him. He goes into the bathroom nearby and changes out of his completely soaked clothes that stick to his skin showing his complexion and into your dry ones. He was drowning in your hoodie but the pants seemed to fit him well, they were just a little short. He walks out of the bathroom looking a lot better than he did before but still looking upset.

“What wrong sho?..” you question him, “come on let’s sit on the sofa..” you tell him worryingly.. He nods once again doing as you say and sitting down on the sofa. He looks down at his lap for a few minutes as he wipes away the last of his tears and before finally speaking “…Can I ask you something?” He questions, “Anything sho!” You hold onto his hand, “You promise you won’t be mad?” -He looks at your hand holding his and grips it, squeezing your hand feeling its warmth.

He lets out a shaky sigh and grips your hand tighter while looking down “You don’t…have romantic feelings for anyone else besides me right?..”, “W-what?!” “What makes you think that?!” You exclaim shockingly, tightening your grip on his hand He lets out a shaky sigh and bites the inside of his cheek, “…There’s this boy in my class, he’s…well he’s pretty or whatever.. and I heard a few people in my class say that you two talk sometimes. I’m just overthinking it…I’m sorry..” you look at him with a confused look and ask “what do you mean? Sho the only pretty boy in class i have my eyes on is you..” you smile at him , He looks up you and gives you a shaky smile. He feels stupid now for even bringing it up and thinking such things “I didn’t mean to upset you I just…I got scared..I love you a lot and I’d be destroyed if you left me…I know I’m stupid for thinking things so easily it’s just…” he sighs..

“Oh sho.. I’d never leave you babe..” you look at him sadly, it pains your heart knowing he thinks this way… does he think you’d leave him for a “pretty boy” everyone finds attractive hell no that’s for sure.

His heart flutters slightly at your words, he lets out a shaky sigh and grips your hand tighter “Really?..You promise you won’t leave me for the pretty boy from your class?..” you scuffed “sho your the only pretty boy in my class… I don’t know any other boy that you could be talking about..” you giggle at his words, He looks away, realizing how stupid he sounds. He lets out a huff and puts his head in his free hand embarrassed “ I feel like a dumbass now..”

You laugh “ Dont say that babe… you’re the only person I’d ever lay my eyes on your my pretty boy…” you smile looking deep into his eyes, “Honestly sho don’t overthink it pains me knowing you think that way..” you kiss his soft lips .. licking your lips in hunger for more kisses.

He lets out another shaky and relieved sigh as you press your lips to his. His free hand rests on your waist and pulls you to sit on his lap. He breaks the kiss for a moment and buries his head into your neck, nuzzling it against your skin

“I’m really sorry for thinking such things…I love you so much…”.. “You should be knuckle head..” you state while playing with his semi wet hair. shivering as you touch his hair a bit wet from the rain. He gives a slight laugh at you calling him a knucklehead, knowing that he kinda deserves it and then nuzzles his head further into your neck as he speaks “I know, I’m sorry again…it’s just the people in my class keep talking about it…about how you and that boy are always talking and stuff…”.

“It’s just school work plus I didn’t want to tell you this but..” you slowly get closer to his ear and whisper “I show you off to him” you smile and you giggle in his ear. He listens to every word carefully and his cheeks turn a light pink. He takes a moment to process what you said, slightly confused at first “Huh? What do you mean you ‘show me off to him’?”, realizing what you had said but not was too late it had to be said “Oh nothing I just ramble about you a lot telling him how much of a good boyfriend you are sometimes I even get off topic on the project we do …” He can’t help but smile a bit, picturing you rambling about him to the boy as you work on projects together. He lifts his head up from your neck and looks up at you, “You really do that?” He questions “I do..”..” it’s kinda embarrassing now that I say it..” you cover your face He smiles gently at how embarrassed you are admitting it.

He gives you a satisfied smile seeing your beautiful face and moves one hand to cup your cheek. “You’re cuter than you give yourself credit for. You know that right?” You blush bright red “S-Sho!!”.. “Don’t say that” you bury yourself in his neck, He laughs at your actions and lets you bury yourself into his neck to hide your embarrassment. He brings his other hand up and runs his fingers through your hair as he smiles and speaks “Why not? I’m just saying the truth…”

You start kissing his neck softly bitting and licking into certain spots.. “Mhh.. I guess..” you breath heavily You immediately tell he’s enjoying the soft kisses on his neck, even letting out a small and shaky breath when you start biting into some special spots. He takes a moment to speak and when he does his voice is shaky and slightly strained… “Keep doing that and I’m…I’m not responsible for what happens next…”

You start kissing his neck softly bitting and licking into certain spots.. “Mhh.. if you say so..”

You continue on to leave him hickeys moving onto his lips.. He immediately melts into you as your lips move from his neck to his lips. He lets out a small hum of pleasure at the feeling as well as from the hickeys you leave. He closes his eyes and slides his tongue out a bit, gently licking over your lips as if asking for entrance into your mouth,You slowly let him inside your mouth moaning from his flavors mouth inside you… He lets out a noise of satisfaction as he slips his tongue into your mouth, immediately exploring every inch of it as he takes the lead of the kiss. The hand holding your waist suddenly grips onto you tighter as his tongue moves against yours, desperate to taste more of you.

You moan as you deeply kiss him passionately describe for his touch, He continues to dominate the kiss, holding you pressed against him as his other hand moves your hair back and out of your face so he can see you. He lets out another shaky breath as he devours your mouth, wanting this moment to last forever. He breaks the kiss for a moment, only to whisper the words, “I love you so much… ” in a soft and shaky voice before delving back in for another deep kiss…

(if you liked my work feel free to check out the rest on my page and follow <3!! Or click the #hotcheetos22 )

[anzulvr]

karma x reader — fluff, angst? (Kinda) if they had a relationship like Hanako and yashiro,, SPOILERS FOR TBHK guys I’m supposed to be doing one of the thirty requests but I thought of this and I couldn’t help it I’m sorry

Karma and you are the epitome of the scene in TBHK where Hanako goes “And guess who gets to be my little helper!” and Yashiro replies “it’s me… I’m the helper…” in the most disappointing voice as she gets her cheeks squished by him.

(If you haven’t seen it look it up on YouTube or tiktok!)

You’d be like Yashiro and Karma would be more like Hanako because of how often he gets you wrapped up in his crazy plans, most days he does something stupid and needs you to be apart of it.

Karmas personality is very bold and he definitely takes jokes too far sometimes which is why I think a confession from him could be kind of messy and in parallel to the scene where Hanako accidentally makes Yashiro cry by fake-confessing to her as apart of his plan. (Look the scene up, he stages a confession, Yashiro is disappointed and he teases her about it not realizing it upset her) — Karmas version of this would be an assassination plan on Korosensei where he lores Korosensei to whatever place planned by faking a confession to you (cause Korosensei is super nosy and would definitely snoop around given the chance no matter how sketchy things seem), Karma forgets to fill you in and now you’re hurt when you realize the confession was all apart of a stupid assassination attempt.

“Haha can you believe he fell for that, still couldn’t kill him that sucks, hey- [Name]? Dont tell me you’re disappointed the confession was staged.” He laughs but that comes to a quick stop when he realizes that was exactly the reason why you looked so sad.

He reacts differently depending on your reaction, if you’re mad at him he’ll let you tell him off, for the first time he doesn’t argue back because he realizes he seriously messed up. He asks Nagisa and to help him figure out how to win back your trust, when Nagisa’s answer is “you should just be honest about your feelings.” Karma decides to get advice from Ms.Jelavitch instead, because he’s not up to being mushy just yet. (He ends up being mushy regardless he will swallow his pride after seeing you all frowny)

If you’re more sensitive and you start crying (real) he’ll be even more lost on how to react. He’ll apologize frantically and doesn’t realize when he’s starting to say things that he’d consider cheesy in any other moment. He tells you it’s not that the confession was fake, and how he meant every word, “I didn’t think you reciprocated, I thought I could make my feelings useful for some assassination attempt without realizing you felt that way…”

pretty short sorry :) but have this 🩷!

[unformula1]

“it’s going to go perfect.” (OP81)

“it’s going to go perfect.” (OP81 x reader)

read part 1 here

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Synopsis: “I’m sorry, okay!” He shrugs and playfully punches your shoulder, “The last time I did this, it didn’t exactly go well…”

“Well this time it’s going to go perfect.”

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Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming?

-double take (dhruv)

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masterlist

word count: 657 words

pairing: oscar pisastri x reader

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Oscar Piastri was a pretty reserved driver, wouldn't say anything if he didn’t need to. He just sat in the corner of the room and kept quiet. He isn’t exactly the type to start conversations or the kind to continue them. Truth be told, conversing was one of his biggest weaknesses, he never knew if he was going to accidentally insult someone or say something stupid and ruin their friendship.

***

“Do you-” He stumbles on some of his words, “like…you know, like me back?” 

You think for a bit. 

Do you?

Do you love Oscar Piastri?

“I-” You hesitate, who were you kidding?

His head bows lower, his feet shuffling a little. 

“Yes.”

His head lifts and his eyes light up, “Really?”

You don’t reply to him but instead shift yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in for a hug. Oscar gets taken aback by your sudden motion, his body tensing up. 

It takes him a few seconds to realise you’re hugging him and just like that, his body relaxes, his arms slowly moving around you, hugging you tightly back. 

“I love you.” 

His eyes water up, and you hear quiet sobs.

“Are you crying?” You ask, chuckling a little as you release the hug

Oscar rubs the tears that rolled down his cheeks, “No. I’m not.”

“I thought you were supposed to be cold and insensitive-” You tease him, gently poking the sides of his stomach.

“I’m sorry, okay!” He shrugs and playfully punches your shoulder, “The last time I did this, it didn’t exactly go well…”

“Well this time it’s going to go perfect.”

He looks at you, with a spark in his eyes you never knew he had. They water up again and tears brim in his eyes. You don’t mind, you look back at him with a wide smile. He looks beautiful, he looks perfect. 

It takes him a few moments more of walking and ice cream licking for him to finally gather his emotions and string together a proper sentence. 

“Do you want to…” He eats the rest of the ice cream cone, “go out for dinner… sometime soon?”

The rest of the conversation went exactly how you would want it to. A date, a day, a place, a time and just for the both of you.

***

You walk along the pavement, finding your way to the address Oscar sent you. 

Oscar: Im here You: im getting there if i dont get lost

You turn a corner and see a familiar figure – tall, blonde hair, perfect eyes and perfect ass. You keep your phone in your pocket and take a slow jog over to Oscar, who’s leaning against the window of the restaurant, looking at his phone.

“Good looking.” You startle Oscar, who jumps at your voice.

“Hi-” He says, slightly nervous, he keeps his phone in his pocket and presents to you a bouquet of flowers.

You feel blood rush to your cheeks as it turns red. You’re shocked, in a good way, and you gasp. You smile and take the flowers from him.

“Well, aren't you a charmer?” You comment, smiling widely at him while taking the flowers.

“I- I thought it would be nice.” He says, his hands still visibly shaking, “Do you like them?”

“Of course I do!” You say, smelling the flowers.

He outstretches his hand for you to hold, which you do. His firm is grasp, shaky but firm. He’s gotten slightly more confident over the last few minutes. He holds your hand and leads you to one of the tables, which has a vase of roses in the middle. It’s romantic, really.

The both of you sit down and for a moment, the entire world slows down and you glance into his eyes. His perfect, glowing eyes. He looks back, looking lost in yours. 

He looks beautiful.

He looks perfect.

He is Oscar Piastri.

And he is your boyfriend.