#IIT Jobs last date

[cutepg]

GATE 2025 Exam Date: How to Plan Your Preparation Effectively

The Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering (GATE) is one of India's most important exams for aspiring engineers and scientists. Conducted jointly by seven IITs and IISc, GATE is the gateway to postgraduate programs (M.Tech, MS) and various prestigious public sector jobs in India. If you're planning to appear for the GATE 2025 exam, knowing the exact dates and preparation timeline is crucial to staying ahead in the competition.

What is the GATE Exam?

GATE, short for Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering, assesses the comprehensive understanding of various undergraduate subjects in engineering and science. The exam is held annually for admissions to postgraduate programs and recruitment into several public sector enterprises. GATE is a highly competitive exam, with lakhs of students participating each year, making it a benchmark for academic excellence in engineering.

GATE 2025 Exam Date: When is it?

The GATE 2025 exam date is crucial information for all aspirants. The official authorities have announced that the exam will be held from February 1, 2025, to February 9, 2025. It will be conducted in a multiple-session format, with specific days and times allocated for each subject.

The GATE exam is generally held over multiple days, across the first two weeks of February. It is conducted in different slots, typically in the morning and afternoon, to accommodate the large number of candidates. Each exam session typically lasts for about three hours.

GATE 2025 Exam Schedule

The GATE 2025 exam will be organized by one of the Indian Institutes of Technology (IIT), with the detailed schedule released closer to the exam date. As for now, it is expected that the exam will include various disciplines such as:

Aerospace Engineering

Civil Engineering

Computer Science and Information Technology

Electrical Engineering

Mechanical Engineering

Chemical Engineering

Environmental Science and Engineering

Life Sciences

Mathematics

Physics

Statistics

Each subject is allotted a specific date and time, and candidates will be able to select their preferred exam slot when filling out the application form. The full schedule will be published in advance on the official GATE website, where candidates can check the exact date and time for their respective papers.

How to Stay Updated About the GATE 2025 Exam Date?

To avoid missing any important updates about the GATE 2025 exam date, it's essential to keep an eye on the official website of GATE, which is typically maintained by the conducting IIT. The official website is where all key notifications, including exam dates, registration timelines, and application forms, are published. Here are a few ways to stay updated:

Check the Official Website Regularly: Visit the official GATE website for the latest updates, exam dates, syllabus, and other details.

Sign Up for Alerts: Many official GATE portals and educational websites offer email or SMS alerts, ensuring you get the most up-to-date information directly in your inbox or mobile.

Follow Social Media Accounts: Many IITs and educational organizations post updates regarding GATE on their social media accounts. Follow them to stay informed about key changes and updates.

How to Prepare for the GATE 2025 Exam?

Preparing for GATE 2025 requires strategic planning and focused effort. Here's a step-by-step guide on how to plan for the exam:

1. Know the Syllabus: Before you begin your preparation, familiarize yourself with the GATE syllabus for your respective subject. The syllabus covers core engineering topics, so a thorough understanding of your undergraduate courses will be necessary.

2. Set a Study Schedule: Break your preparation into daily, weekly, and monthly goals. Assign specific topics and allocate sufficient time for each. Make sure you stick to the schedule and adjust as needed.

3. Choose Study Material Wisely: Select the right textbooks and study materials that align with the GATE syllabus. Many candidates also rely on online courses, video lectures, and practice tests to enhance their learning.

4. Practice Regularly: Regular practice of previous year’s question papers and mock tests is crucial to getting a feel of the exam pattern and improving time management. Aim to solve as many mock tests as possible before the actual exam.

5. Stay Healthy: Don't forget to prioritize your physical and mental health. Take short breaks, sleep well, eat nutritious food, and stay hydrated. A healthy body leads to a focused mind.

6. Stay Positive: The GATE exam can be intimidating, but confidence is key. Stay motivated and remind yourself of your long-term goals. With consistent effort and dedication, you can succeed.

GATE 2025 Exam Date Registration Process

The application process for GATE 2025 will begin several months before the exam date. Candidates are advised to fill out the application form online by providing personal and academic details. Here's a step-by-step guide to the GATE registration process:

1. Registration on the GATE Portal: Visit the official GATE portal and create an account by providing basic details such as name, contact information, and educational background.

2. Filling Out the Application Form: After registering, candidates need to fill out the detailed application form, which includes their choice of paper, exam center, and personal information.

3. Uploading Documents: Candidates are required to upload scanned copies of their photographs, signature, and other supporting documents.

4. Payment of Fees: The application process includes payment of the examination fee. The fee can be paid online using debit/credit cards or through bank transfer.

5. Admit Card Release: Once the application process is completed, candidates can download their GATE admit card a few weeks before the exam date. The admit card will contain important details like the exam date, venue, and time.

Conclusion

The GATE 2025 exam date is set for February 1, 2025, to February 9, 2025, and knowing this will help you plan your preparation effectively. Start preparing early, make a study schedule, and stick to it. The GATE exam is competitive, but with the right resources, time management, and determination, you can achieve success. Make sure to stay updated about the exam schedule, application process, and other important dates by regularly visiting the official GATE website. Good luck with your preparation!

[aimlayresearch]

A Comprehensive Guide to M.Tech Admission 2024

Master of Technology (M.Tech) programs are a sought-after choice for engineering graduates aiming to deepen their knowledge, enhance their skill sets, and open doors to better career opportunities. With the academic year 2024 around the corner, it’s crucial for aspiring candidates to be well-informed about M.Tech admission 2024, important dates, eligibility criteria, and available pathways, including options for working professionals in India.

In this guide, we’ll cover everything you need to know to streamline your admission process.

Key Highlights of M.Tech Admission 2024

1. What is an M.Tech Program?

M.Tech is a postgraduate degree that focuses on specialized engineering and technology disciplines. The program is designed to provide in-depth theoretical knowledge and practical exposure, preparing students for roles in academia, research, or industry.

2. Importance of Timely Admission

The admission process for M.Tech programs varies across institutions, with some offering direct admissions based on merit and others requiring entrance exam scores. Missing the deadlines can mean waiting another year, so staying updated on the M.Tech admission 2024 last date for your preferred institutions is critical.

Eligibility Criteria for M.Tech Admission 2024

Before applying, candidates must ensure they meet the M.Tech eligibility criteria 2024, which generally include the following:

Educational Qualification:

A Bachelor’s degree (B.E./B.Tech) in a relevant engineering or technology field from a recognized university.

Minimum aggregate marks typically range from 50% to 60%, depending on the institution and category.

Entrance Exam Qualification:

Scores from national-level exams like GATE (Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering) are often required.

Some institutions also conduct their own entrance tests for admission.

Work Experience (for Working Professionals):

For specialized programs like M.Tech for working professionals in India, applicants might need relevant work experience of 1-2 years in their respective fields.

Age Limit:

Most institutions do not impose an age limit, though this may vary.

M.Tech Admission 2024 Process

The admission process typically follows these steps:

1. Entrance Exam

To secure admission to top institutions, candidates usually appear for the MTech entrance exam 2024, such as:

GATE: The most popular exam for M.Tech admissions in India. GATE 2024 is likely to be conducted in February, with registrations closing in September 2023.

Institution-Specific Exams: Institutes like VIT, BITS Pilani, and SRM conduct their own entrance tests.

State-Level Exams: Exams like Karnataka PGCET, TANCET, or AP PGECET are common for state-level admissions.

2. Application Submission

Research institutions and their specializations to determine your best fit.

Fill out the application forms before the M.Tech admission 2024 last date for your target institutions.

3. Counseling and Seat Allotment

Post-exam, candidates attend counseling sessions where seats are allotted based on rankings, preferences, and availability.

4. Document Verification and Fee Payment

Submit required documents (marksheets, GATE scorecards, etc.) and pay the admission fee to confirm your seat.

Opportunities for Working Professionals: M.Tech in India

Working professionals seeking to upskill without compromising their jobs can opt for M.Tech for working professionals in India. These programs are typically designed as part-time, weekend, or online courses.

Features of M.Tech for Working Professionals:

Flexibility: Classes are held during weekends or evenings.

Specializations: Popular options include Data Science, Artificial Intelligence, Software Engineering, and more.

Eligibility: A minimum of 1-2 years of work experience in a relevant field is often required.

Institutes like IITs, NITs, and private universities such as BITS Pilani offer part-time or online M.Tech programs tailored for working professionals.

Top Institutes for M.Tech in 2024

Some of the leading institutions offering M.Tech programs in India are:

Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs): Known for their rigorous curriculum and research opportunities.

National Institutes of Technology (NITs): Excellent options with competitive fee structures.

Private Universities: Institutions like BITS Pilani, VIT, and SRM offer specialized programs with modern infrastructure.

Specializations in Demand

The field of engineering and technology is evolving rapidly, making it crucial to choose a specialization aligned with market demands. Popular options include:

Computer Science and Engineering

Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning

Robotics and Automation

Renewable Energy

Structural Engineering

Key Dates to Remember

Staying aware of important dates is vital for a smooth admission process. Here are some tentative dates:

GATE 2024 Results: March 2024

M.Tech admission 2024 last date (for most institutions): May-July 2024

Institution-Specific Deadlines: Vary; check individual websites.

Preparing for MTech Entrance Exam 2024

Success in entrance exams like GATE requires:

Strategic Planning: Focus on core subjects, engineering mathematics, and aptitude.

Practice: Solve previous years’ papers and take mock tests.

Time Management: Develop a study schedule and stick to it.

Final Thoughts

Pursuing an M.Tech degree can significantly enhance your career prospects, providing a platform for advanced learning and skill development. Whether you’re a fresh graduate or a working professional, planning your M.Tech admission 2024 well in advance is the key to success.

[cmitimesnews-blog]

The Department of Management Studies, IIT Madras has Invited Applications for the Executive MBA Programme?

The Department of Management Studies (DOMS), IIT Madras has invited applications for its Executive MBA Programme, which aims to train mid-career working professionals in contemporary management knowledge to lead a modern business organisation.

The Executive MBA programme is designed to fit seamlessly with the busy schedules of working professionals, allowing them to continue with their jobs while earning a degree, which can help them advance their careers and open up new opportunities. In-person classes will take place on alternate weekends (Saturday and Sunday) on campus. The last date to apply for IIT Madras Executive MBA Programme is October 29, 2024. Interested candidates can apply through the following link: doms.iitm.ac.in/admission/

Welcoming candidates from across the country applying for this programme, Professor M Thenmozhi, Head, Department of Management Studies, IIT Madras said, this two-year degree program is designed to develop the skills and mindset necessary for effective leadership in a rapidly evolving business landscape. Read more

[rojgarbharat]

Name of Post:

IIT Mines Professor Recruitment Dhanbad 2023

Post Date:09/09/2023Short Information :Indian Institute of Technology (Indian School of Mines), Dhanbad invites has Recently Recruit to the Associate Professor/ Assistant Professor for Mines 2023.

Indian Institute of Technology (Indian School of Mines)

IIT Mines Professor Recruitment 2023

WWW.ROJGARBHARAT.INFO

Application Fee

 No Need.

Important Dates

Job Posted : 09/09/2023

Last Date : 27/10/2023

Organization Address::

Indian Institute of Technology (Indian School of Mines) Dhanbad Police Line Road, Main Campus IIT (ISM, near Rani Bandh, Hirapur, Sardar Patel Nagar, Dhanbad, Jharkhand 826004.

Job Title: Details

Assistant Professor

Department:

Applied Geology

Applied Geophysics

Chemistry & Chemical Biology

Chemical Engineering

Civil Engineering

Computer Science & Engineering

Electrical Engineering

Electronics Engineering

Environmental Science and Engineering

Fuel, Minerals and Metallurgical Engineering

Humanities and Social Sciences

Management Studies & Industrial Engineering

Mathematics & Computing

Mechanical Engineering

Mining Engineering

Petroleum Engineering

Physics.

Employment Type

Full Time.

Qualification Details

Ph.D. with first class .

Pay Scale

7th CPC Pay Level .

Apply Mode

Online :-

More.............

[newsytv]

Medical Jobs and Doctor Jobs in the Government in 2023: In government hospitals, government medical colleges and institutions, the railway, the financial sector, and public sector firms, there are more than 10,000 open medical jobs each year. Allopathic and complementary therapies including homeopathy, ayurveda, Siddha, and naturopathy are required by the government of India, state governments, public sector companies, ESIC, government medical hospitals, and institutes.

MBBS doctor jobs, Siddha doctor jobs, Unani doctor jobs, Ayurvedic doctor jobs, Homoeopathy government jobs, BHMS doctor jobs, BAMS doctor jobs, BDS doctor jobs, BVSC doctor jobs, medical officers, specialist jobs, physician jobs, and medical faculty jobs are among the medical jobs that job seekers can find on this website.

Medical Officer Jobs 2023 – Medical Doctor Vacancies in Government Sector:

Post Name – Total Vacancies      Last Date             Govt Organization

Senior Specialist / Specialist – 10               01/08/2023         NITI Aayog

Medical Posts – 70           13/06/2023         CMHO Bemetara

Medical Specialist – 02   23/06/2023         NTPC Limited

Bank’s Medical Consultant (BMC) – 01   30/06/2023         RBI Lucknow

Senior Resident – 121    10/06/2023         AIIMS Kalyani

Prosthetist and Orthoptist, Audiologist, Medical Officer, Clinical Psychologist – 96             20/06/2023         ALIMCO

Senior Residents – 122  19/06/2023         JIPMER

Medical Officer, Pharmacist, Radiologist, Nursing – 10     30/06/2023         National Institute of Ayurveda

Medical Officer – 01        14/06/2023         IISER Bhopal

Part Time Clinical Psychologist – 08           15/06/2023         IIT Bombay

Medical Laboratory Technologist – 73     30/06/2023         CCRAS

Assistant Commandant (Veterinary), ASI (Pharmacist), Radiographer – 46            18/06/2023         Sashastra Seema Bal (SSB)

Medical Faculty, Consultant Posts – 76   07/06/2023         SVNIRTAR

SSC Remount Veterinary Corps 05/06/0223         Indian Army

Medical Officer, GDMO – 239     01/06/2023         UPSC Advt No 09/2023

Faculty Posts (Medical) – 123      No last Date       AIIMS Guwahati

Consultant (Doctor), Gynaecologist, Dentist, Physiotherapist – 05             29/05/2023         NTRO

ENT Specialist – 15           31/05/2023         Gujarat GPSC

Bank’s Medical Consultant (BMC) – 02   31/05/2023         RBI Bhubaneswar

Medical Superintendent – 01     29/05/2023         AIIMS Madurai

Ayurved Medical Officer – 639   31/05/2023��        Rajasthan Ayurveda Department

Assistant Pharmacist, Medical Officer (Visha) – 10+          31/05/2023         Kerala PSC

Medical Officer, Research Officer, Faculty Posts – 78       25/05/2023         National Institute of Homeopathy

Group A, B, C Posts – 281             13/05/2023         AIIM New Delhi

Medical Officer – 03        15/05/2023         IIT Patna

Veterinary Inspector – 11             15/05/2023         Chandigarh Govt

Medical Officer – 01        31/05/2023         School of Planning and Architecture Bhopal

Consultants – 10+            May 2023             NHSRC

Medical Officers, General Duty Medical Officers – 1261  09/05/2023         UPSC CMS 2023

Project Scientist (Medical) – 05  11/05/2023         NCDIR

Veterinary Assistant Surgeon / Veterinary Extension Officer – 80              09/05/2023         MPPSC

Specialist Doctors             04/05/2023         IOCL Barauni Refinery

Medical Professionals – 08           03/05/2023         HAL

Medical Officer – 02        03/05/2023         Banaras Hindu University

Medical Officer – 146     02/05/2023         Maharashtra PSC

Pharmacist – 1539            04/05/2023         BTSC (Bihar)

[meghalayacareer]

IIT Guwahati Recruitment 2023: JTS & Junior Assistant Vacancy (35 Posts)

IIT Guwahati Recruitment 2023: Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), Guwahati has released the latest employment news notification for the recruitment of 35 Junior Technical Superintendent (JTS) and Junior Assistant (JA) vacancies. The last date for submission of the application is June 30, 2023. 1. Junior Technical Superintendent (JTS) - No. of posts: 22 (UR: 18, SC: 01 & EWS: 03) - Qualification & Experience: B.Tech./BE/ Post Graduate Degree or B.Sc. with 2 years relevant experience in the appropriate field or Diploma in Engineering with 3 years relevant experience in the appropriate field with a good academic record. - Pay Matrix Level: 6 (As per 7th CPC). - Age Limit: Up to 30 years (No upper age limit for regular employees of IIT Guwahati and age relaxation for contractual employees shall be as per norms of the Institute). 2. Junior Assistant (JA) - No. of posts: 13 (UR: 07, SC: 02, EWS: 03 & PwD: 01) - Qualification: Bachelor’s Degree with knowledge of computer office applications. - Pay level: Level-3 (as per 7th CPC). - Age: Up to 27 years (No upper age limit for regular employees of IIT Guwahati and age relaxation for contractual employees shall be as per norms of the Institute). Application Fee of IIT Guwahati Jobs Applicants will have to make the payment of non-refundable application fees through the online mode only. Fees payable by the applicant are as follows: ₹300/- (for General/ OBC candidates) and ₹150/- (for SC/ST/PwD candidates). Women applicants are exempted from payment of the application fee. How to Apply for IIT Guwahati Vacancy? Interested and eligible candidates may apply online for this vacancy through online mode by visiting the official Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), Guwahati Recruitment Portal. Candidates may follow the below-mentioned steps to apply for IIT Guwahati Recruitment 2023. - Scroll down, and go to below Online Application Link. - Click on "Apply Online" and complete the registration process by clicking "New Registration". - In the next stage, click on the "Online Application" Link and log in. - Fill out your all personal and educational details and upload the necessary documents. - In the end, submit the form. - Don't forget to take a print of a copy of the submitted application form. Those who wish to apply are advised to go through the below official notification in detail before submitting applications. Online Application Link Click Here Download Official Notification Click Here Job Updates on Telegram Click Here Read the full article

[iitroorkee]

IIT Roorkee Invites you for informal interaction in Potsdam/Berlin, Germany IIT Roorkee invites you to meet the Director and Faculty members for short interaction in person. It will be a small get-together with an open discussion forum for faculty positions, various job Opportunities, Study Exchange, Internship & Research. Time/Date: 11 AM-02 PM, March 21, 2023 Where: Hous 6, Room 1.04 (S17) Campus Griebnitzsee, University of Potsdam Last date: to fill out the form is March 19, 2023 Form link: https://ir.iitr.ac.in/Registration/ Visiting Delegates: Prof K K Pant - The Director, IIT Roorkee Prof V C Srivastava - Dean International Relations Prof P Arumugam - Dept of Physics Prof Ankit Agarwal - Dept of Hydrology Please complete the form, the Registration Number will be provided on March 19-20. Registration Number is Mandatory for the Meeting, for time, space and logistics reasons.

[jyoti54]

Best Placement Engineering Colleges in India

Engineering is a career of choice for a large number of students in India. That’s because the future is bright for students in this field in terms of job prospects. Majority of the students aspire to get placed in different top companies during the placement drives at the campuses. There are hundreds and thousands of engineering colleges to take admissions but if your priority is to find one of the best placement engineering colleges in India, there can be nothing better than KIIT or the Kalinga Institute of Information Technology.

Kalinga Institute of Industrial Technology, KIIT Odisha

IIT Bombay

BITS Pilani

NIT Trichy

Delhi Technological University

Manipal Institute of Technology

SRM Institute of Science and Technology, Chennai

Bharati Vidyapeeth Deemed University College of Engineering, Pune

Motilal Nehru National Institute of Technology, Prayag Raj

Vishwakarma Institute of Technology, Pune

The Placement Advantage at KIIT

KIIT has a good track record in offering the best placement to students in the engineering field. With the commencement of the campus placements for 2022 for students graduating from May, approximately 92% students have already been placed to date with more than 2000 aspirants grabbing several job offers. KIIT 2022 campus placement has featured more than 400 companies till date doling out 5000+ job offers to the students.

Among these 400 companies that have visited the KIIT campus for placements last year, 75 were brand new companies offering high paying jobs to the eligible candidates. KIIT has also made this spectacular record of placing its top 1500 students in Dream Companies with an average CTC of 8.10 LPA plus.

The Day One campus recruitment drive at KIIT last year (2022) generated more than 2000 job offers from companies like Cognizant, Accenture, Wipro and Capgemini. Among the other top companies that were at KIIT for the placement driver, are names like Infosys, Ericson and Escorts. High Radius has been the top recruiter at KIIT offering 850 PPOs followed by Cognizant with 717 job offers. There are various other companies that have confirmed their participation in the campus recruitment program at KIIT in the future with procedures on-going online to assess capable students.

With such an impressive track record of offering placements to the most desirable candidates, KIIT (Deemed to be University) is all set to achieve 100% campus placement for yet another year. The companies that visit KIIT for campus recruitments are top-tier, well-known names that offer engineering students the scope to work as high-ranking technologists.

[accustiv-archived]

i hadn’t told alex, or anyone really, because it didn’t really matter… or i thought it didn’t. i always tried to pretend i’d forgotten about it, but it never lasted once i realised that it was, in fact, that time of year. all the same, i grinned as he tugged me against him and kissed me on the cheek, letting out a quiet giggle and batting gently at his arm with my hand as i uttered a breathless      “ stop it. ”

it was enough, someone else acknowledging that i existed, that today marked something in my life, even if the age he thought i was turning was wrong, even if he didn’t really know anything about why i cared. it was enough because it was alex, and i liked him. i liked the way he was when it was just us, when we were tired and aching and hit with that delirious second wind of energy after leaving what was, in anyone’s book, a truly surreal job.

we weren’t dating, not really, just friends who took the bus home together every night, held hands when the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion hit home, trudged half a mile the wrong way to get food before making our way home because if we didn’t eat right now we would pass out… iit didn’t matter that my feelings for him grew every single day, until i caught myself staring at him all the time - when he was on stage, when i was, when he walked past a table i was entertaining, when he pressed his cheek against the bus window…

when he wandered down the drive and turned the wrong way.

it took a moment to break out of the distracted daze that had settled over me, but when he told me to go with him, i blinked, took a last drag of my cigarette and dropped it, crushing it with my shoe before half jogging to catch up.

i slid my arm into his, comfortably, letting him lead me wherever he was going. but that didn’t stop me from being curious, as we reached the bus stop and i took note of the number. i didn’t know this route, i didn’t know where it could lead us, and i hummed, thoughtfully before looking at alex again.

alex… with his beautiful face and his soft hair and the edges he didn’t quite manage to hide all the time, the ones i wanted to find, to soothe, the ones i wanted to dig into and reshape and understand.

i didn’t realise i was staring until, once again, he called me out. Ii felt my expression shift from awed curiosity to a smirk, and i shrugged.     “ i wasn’t looking at you at all. ”      i feigned an aloof sniff, and ripped my gaze from him to glance down the street.      “ i was only joking, you know? we don’t actually need to do anything. ”      except i wanted to. i really wanted to, and my hand took hold of his, my fingers tangling around alex’s until we were so entwined i wasn’t sure i’d be able to let go. i swung our arms once, experimentally.

“ where are we going? ”       i asked, after a moment’s quiet contemplation, once again feeling my eyes being dragged back to his face, like he had his own gravitational pull.       “ because right now the options are you’re finally doing your big villain reveal and i’m being kidnapped… or you secretly have a giant party mansion you’ve been hiding from me. ”      i grinned again, and swung his arm one more time,      “ so which is it, alex? because i can’t run in these shoes and i don’t think i could take anymore loud music right now. ”

i wove my way through the bustling dancers, the raccoon-eyed actresses, all the top-tier playthings elbowing each other for a spot in the mirror, attempting to hastily freshen up their makeup before meeting their scheduled clients. pink boas everywhere, molting feathers, feathers hitting me in the face as they bent over. someone asked me to adjust their mask in the back so it didn't slip down to their chin. the back room thumped with hard-bass club music; i could barely focus. i'd been drinking, much to the dismay of tony who had asked me once again to ' fucking knock it off, ' but it was either that or i remained irritable and untouchable for the rest of the night. but now i was at the uneasy stage of my drunkenness, barely able to walk in my heels, carrying them along with me between my fingers in one hand, my bag in the other. i helped one of the girls with her mask, and then couldn't do anything but nod and wave as i departed the building through the side exit.

i stopped feeling things somewhere between getting tied up to the tree, and holding my breath long enough so i could at least finish for the private consumption of our members. as i walked down the long trail, barely reacting to the awful heat, someone slapped me hard on the ass, which was followed by a band of jeers and howls. it was a man in a too expensive tuxedo, who winked at me from underneath his cheap store-bought mask. his friend catcalled me: ow-ow! i rolled my eyes, deciding it wasn't worth the hassle to call security. i'd have to stay longer if i did, and staying longer meant staying upright, two things i didn't wish to do. just as i turned, i caught kai grinning at me from the end of the drive, nodding at me to come join him. i was never so relieved to see anyone in my entire life.

" oh hello, beautiful. " i took the offered cigarette and lazily patted my pockets for my lighter. my voice sounded more energetic than i felt, but things like that came easy for me. putting in the effort to really show it, on the other hand, often hindered my execution. i pulled long on the cigarette as i watched kai's smoke rings bellow and dissipate freely into the night air. " oh my god—?? what the hell, why didn't you say anything before right now? happy birthday, babe! " i pulled him into me, kissing him hard on the cheek. i didn't know how to tell him that i wasn't quite in the mood for sex, even though we hadn't had sex together yet. we'd been playing around with the idea recently, but like this, i'd feel weirdly guilty if it was our first time and i'd been drunk for it. " hmm, i think i have an idea. " i meandered down the drive, in the opposite direction of our normal bus stop. " you coming or what, birthday boy? come along, this way. "

i brought us to a different bus stop, arm in loving arm, to the 23 instead of our usual 44. even though i had been dead tired, blundering, maladroit in my drunkenness, kai's presence somehow gave me that extra burst of energy i needed to make it through the rest of the night alive. besides, the evening was still young, at least to us, and i didn't want to miss it. i didn't want to miss him any longer than i already had, and tonight only solidified how much i loved who i was with him near me. that wasn't something easy for me to say out loud, and i only hoped - even in my lackadaisical stupor - that i could prove it to him without making an ass of myself. " don't look at me like that. "

[shivam11110000]

IIT Vacancy for Junior Technical Superintendent at Tirupati -Today Government Jobs

IIT Vacancy for Junior Technical Superintendent at Tirupati -Today Government Jobs

Last Updated: 13 Jan 2021, 07:57:26 PM Indian Institute of Information technology (  IIT Recruitment or IIT Jobs ) has published a Job Notification for appointment of for Junior Technical Superintendent at Tirupati. To minimize the chances of getting the application rejected, please read the job notification published on the board’s website completely. It will assure a completed application that…

[wincore]

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff 

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of. 

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low. 

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours. 

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget. 

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore. 

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume. 

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type. 

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises.  If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts. 

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself. 

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask. 

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it. 

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it. 

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.  

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily. 

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year. 

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately. 

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one. 

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt. 

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover. 

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours. 

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth. 

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words. 

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.  

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table. 

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad. 

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back. 

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing. 

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters. 

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs. 

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.” 

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can. 

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off. 

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating. 

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know. 

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young. 

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.” 

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling. 

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung. 

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses. 

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention. 

Inviting him somewhere. 

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure. 

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more. 

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter? 

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.  

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him. 

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.” 

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.” 

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.” 

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts. 

You’re disappointing. 

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose. 

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps. 

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask. 

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you. 

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue. 

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.” 

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you. 

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families. 

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe. 

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard. 

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them. 

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out. 

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure. 

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up. 

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt. 

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart. 

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it. 

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him. 

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak. 

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.  

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time. 

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional. 

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love. 

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved. 

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding. 

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either. 

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next  meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple. 

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action. 

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t. 

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days. 

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.” 

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he’s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by. 

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers. 

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever. 

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout. 

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!” 

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?” 

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this. 

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose. 

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond. 

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—” 

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder. 

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him. 

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too. 

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again. 

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling. 

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you. 

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care. 

 “Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there. 

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally. 

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer. 

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand. 

[gangrenados]

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

Venom!Jason Todd x fem!reader.

What does the title has to do with all of this? Not much, it just sounds cool

@astroherogirl thanks for helping me with this weird ideas and also thank you for the moodboard ilysm 💖💖

Warning: violence, blood, sexual content.

Also this is like a version of Venom who is more similar to the Tom Hardy movie?? And also it has my touch, so it might be kinda ooc

THIS IS LOOONG

It's not weird that beingsfof other universes end up wandering in this earth somehow. It has happened before and it will happen again no matter what the heroes do.

But in that night in particular something went bad, affecting Red Hood who was supposed to stop some members of the cartel.

It was supposed to be an easy thing, but before he knew it black goo was straggling him in the middle of the gunfire.

Jason fought against the thing, but it was a stronger than him and determined to make him submit into it's force.

So after what it seemed hours of fighting, Jason was left disoriented between dead bodies and a weird voice talking to him. He became the new host of this parasite...

•Jason's mind was a mess, it reminded him of those days when he was fresh out of the pity and it's less to say that he wasn't happy about it. Not feeling in control always got this negative effect on him, also having a voice in his head doesn't make things any easier.

•The voice was talking about making greater things, claiming it was destined to become a fearful name who imposes respect and always is there to protect the weakest. This thing wanted to be in control, but Jason was not gonna give it to it.

•So they fought until both of them were too tired to make a move, finding out each other weakness and spitting out harsh comments.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Jason said breathlessly, rolling on his side to sit up. Blood was running down his nose and he spat it when it started to accumulate in his lips.

•The black goo looked at him cautiously, not daring to get out of the corner. The walls had a lot of gunshots marks, but the alien preferred to stay hidden in the shadows.

" You are not so mean as you like to pretend." The deep voice of the symbiote echoed in the room." You're just a little bitch who is scared to show what's deep inside you"

"Say something like that again and I'll set you on fire..."

•Red Hood was a name of fear among the underground. It was shocking to see him more taller and muscular, he was like a monster  who would not hesite to tear apart your body with his big, sharp teeth.

•  Also his attacks were more violent  and agressive, he didn't hesitate to kill and now his ways of fighting didn't limited to jst shoot a few bullets and land some punches. Red Hood would abusive his strength, playing with the criminals before he would break them as if they were mere paper.  Nobody wanted to end up dismembered by this lunatic.

•High ranked criminals weren't dumb, they knew very well something was going on and it wouldn't take long for them to find what it was...

•The presence of "venom" also changed a lot of Jason's behavior, affecting his dating life without a doubt. He acted more nervous around you, hiding things and avoiding you as much as he could.

•It was less to say that Jason wanted to keep you out of this mess. Deep down he feared this weird thing would cause you any harm or that you will find so weird that he's the new host of a very stubborn symbiote.

Everything could be summarized in a phrase: Jason didn't wanted to lose you.

"Where the fuck have you been Jason Todd? I've been calling you so many times, I was going insane! Where have you been!?"

Yeah, Jason didn't really thought that if he was being so evasive you might start to worry.

" ...so this human is your mate?" The voice in his head made him groan, Jason didn't answer him but he didn't had to. "You might be an idiot, but you got good taste."

"Shut up." Jason says sternly at the alien and you gasp shocked, ready to start a fight if it wasn't for those white eyes and big smile full of teeth that was seeing you so eagerly from your boyfriend's shoulder.

"What's that?" You point to the tiny black goo who's smile grows wider. The thing wants to go farther, it wants to touch you and have you in ways that can make anyone blush.

"(Y/n) go. Now." Jason demands as he does his best to control this thing, but it's power is getting stronger. Maybe this is time for the symb race to grow, another member would be greatly accepted.

•It's less to say that this little inconvenient cost Jason a lot of things, mainly his strenght to go and face you. He wasn't sure that you'll accept him now and to be fair, he wouldn't blame you if you did wanted to dump him.

•So Jason decided that it was the best if you both take separete ways for the moment, just a little breake until he figures out what he's going to do.

"You should go with your mate." the voice said sternly as Jason punched a thug in the jaw.  Jason has lost count of how many times this thing has tried to convince him to search for you, he knew Venom wanted more than just get Jason a happy life...its thoughts were enought to explain what were his morbid plans with you.

"I just wanted to have some fun, alright?" Venom shouted" It has been so fucking long since I've had sex...I just wanna breed that pretty little human."

"God, you're disgusting." Jason growled, taking a deep breath and letting all the smell of blood and gunpowder fill his nostrils. Just another day in the job, too bad he wouldn't be able to see you anytime soon.

•It didn't took much before all the bats started to haunt him down and although Jason did his best to lost them, they were really stubborn and annoying.

"We can help you, Red Hood." Bruce says as he dodges one of Jason's hits and by the corner of his eye he can clearly see Tim and Dick trying to get a sample of the symbiote.

"So this is your family? Iit's quite lovely" Venom says in Jason's mind, but it's all ignored.

•He felt like he was escaping and it was so annoying.

• Avoid his family, kill criminals and have to live with this thing was too much for him, Jason was so tired, but sometimes -when this thing wasn't blood thristy or saying nasty things- it would be funny.

•Jason couldn't help but chuchle at the naivity of Venoom toward mundane earth things, like soap operas or why bread was so delicious even when it wasn't made out of meat. Deep down, Jason knew that maybe you and this thing could get along...

"Are you sad?" venom poke Jason's cheek; his concerned tone make Jason rolls his eyes so he just stays focused on eating his sandwich. However, Venom doesn't back down and it decides to expand more to be in Jason's eye vision." You should call her."

By now Jason is done with this over used phrase." Will you stop if I do so?" Venom noods eagerly, not daring anymore time pass before he picks up the phone right next to Jason and marks your number.

•When you both finally are together the silence that filled the room is constricting as it best.

• For one part there is Jason who just wants to keep you safe and save himself for the embarrassment and the hurt of rejection and in the other end there is you who just want an explanation of what's going on.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You ask with a faint voice as you bluntly sit down in the couch.

Jason scoff at your words." It's hard to explain how you get involved with an intergalactic parasite if we're being honest." Your hard gaze makes him sigh, maybe this wasn't time to be a little shit." Sorry, I didn't knew how tell you and I didn't wanted to put you in danger."

•It takes a while before things get back to normal between you too. Jason was happy to have some stability back in his life by having you.

•Yeah, things were were slightly different now with you and Jason adjusting your life style for this weird goo who apparently had a thing for eating raw meat at 3a.m.

•Your relationship with Venom was...weird. Don't get me wrong, you could get along at times and sometimes you'd even team up to annoy Jason, but you couldn't help but feel weird out towards this goo.

•For Venom in the other hand, the appreciation it had for you grew so much that maybe the world "love" was more appropriate to describe it. You were their girlfriend, no just Jason's.

•Jason didn't really knew how to manage all of this, but at least one thing they had in common was the fact that they wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of whoever dares to harm you.

•Is worth to mention that the presence of this alien made Jason a lot more horny.

•He wanted to fuck at any free time you both had, it didn't matter if was just a blowjob or him fingering your pretty cunt. Jason wanted all of that nasty stuff.

•Venom had an especial preference for eating you out, he could be down there for hours and no complain even a little. It large tongue would fuck your pussy delightedly and make you see stars, yeah it might be a weird view but it was worth it.

•Venom would also use its ability of expansion to fuck you senseless. Jason would be fucking your pussy and the black goo would be fucking your ass:

"Jay please..." you whined as your boyfriend rubbed the tip of his dick across your soaked pussy. He was looking down at you with a shit eating grin, so delight to have you begging.

"Please what? Use your words, princess" Jason demanded and you groaned.

"Please fuck me like a slut. Just do it."

Venom was too overwhelmed with all of this, dreaming about fucking you became it favorite thing to do and now the time has come.

It only took for a few moments after Jason introduced his cock in your throbbing cunt for being the last straw for Venom. The way you moaned when Jason was thrusting you was making its mind foggy.

Venom wanted to participate.

A strand of black goo went to your neck, keeping a tight grip on it while another takes advantage and sneak in your ass, pumping slowly, spreading all of your juices before setting up a pace. All of this made you gasp, however, the shock washes in just seconds as Jason starts to fucking you harder.

He's gone. It's like the only thing in his mind right now is cum and nothing else, you look like nothing but a toy.

"Of fuck! Keep going" you moan and Jason goes down to kiss you and before you know it, his fingers are teasing your clit in such way that's making you tremble.

"You look so pretty taking my cock like this," Jason groans. By know you more than sure that the grip his hold on your hips will leave a bruise, but it doesn't matter that much since you're more focused on the pleasure and the way his balls are slapping your ass." You're gonna look prettier with my cum dripping down your cunt, babe."

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @strangerthings14 @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @psych0crybaby @barnowl48 @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal21 @pree-2003-blog @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost

[tennessoui]

Hiiii could you please write a little bit for the Kusk Au? Pleeeease🙏🥺 I love the domesticity in that one. Maybe the time when Qui Gon first comes to dinner and they have to act like a couple? But honestly I'd take anything you feel like writing☺️

(no pressure though)

of course!!! so that is the next chapter of KUWSK that I'm going to publish on AO3, and idk when I'll finish iit but have a sneak peak of a very tense dinner with Qui-Gon and the Skywalkers:

-

“Pass the mashed potatoes, please,” Qui-Gon says from down the table.

Anakin narrows his eyes when Obi-Wan drops his fork to his plate in order to grab the dish of the potatoes.

“I love mashed potatoes,” he hears himself saying without conscious thought. “They’re pretty easy to make, too. I love getting Luke to help me in the kitchen when I’m making them. He loves smashing the cooked potatoes with the milk and butter. Did Obi-Wan ever help you in the kitchen, Mr. Jinn?”

Qui-Gon looks uncomfortable from the other end of the table. So does Obi-Wan from his position next to him. Anakin can’t bring himself to retract the question, not even when his two children look up curiously from their plates.

“We had a lot of instant food,” Obi-Wan says slowly, carefully cutting up his own piece of chicken before cutting Leia’s without looking up from the table. “There wasn’t much to help with.”

“Starch is starch,” Qui-Gon says, spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate before offering some to Luke. The boy tilts his plate upward expectedly, and Anakin tries not to feel betrayed.

It’s irrational, he knows that. This whole this is irrational. Qui-Gon has been nothing but nice and pleasant to Anakin and his children and to Obi-Wan in particular. But Anakin’s heard the stories, usually when Obi-Wan’s two or three glasses in.

And now he’s faced with the conundrum of how to forgive a man for hurting his loved one, when that loved one has already forgiven him. It makes him feel prickly beneath his skin. Like he doesn’t know what to do, that everything he does isn’t enough anyway.

“Well, I think you’re really good in the kitchen, Obi-Wan,” he says.

Obi-Wan sends him a startled and disbelieving look. Alright, so Obi-Wan is terrible in the kitchen. No one in the house is worse in the kitchen than Obi-Wan has proven to be in the scant few months they’ve lived together. But Anakin can’t stop imagining a young Obi-Wan, who was never taught to cook because starch was starch.

“Love blinds us all,” Qui-Gon comments with a quirk of his lips.

It makes Anakin seeth. What sort of bullshiit--

But Obi-Wan smiles and lays a hand over his arm and demurs down to his plate, “Anakin really is amazing in the kitchen. He does so much for me, things I was probably neglecting doing.”

Anakin has frozen over the unexpected touch, but if he hadn’t he would have snorted. When Anakin and the twins had moved in, the kitchen was in a sorry state. Probably neglected? Try definitely forgot about.

But he can’t say that, because Obi-Wan’s hand is on his arm and they’ve touched each other casually like this before, but never under the guise of dating, of being in love.

“I try,” he croaks out, when Obi-Wan looks at him pointedly. The older man gives him a soft smile. Anakin wonders what it says about him that he finds acting in love with Anakin is both natural and easy. Because Anakin is finding it very hard, and he really does have a crush the size of the city on his housemate.

“So are you from where Obi is from?” Leia asks with interest.

Qui-Gon blinks at her consideringly. “I suppose it depends on where Obi is from.”

“Obi-Wan,” Obi-Wan corrects tightly, but he’s looking at his father, not at Anakin’s daughter.

Leia continues as if no one else has spoken. “Because Obi says he’s from those great big plains we learned about last week, but also from the mountains and also from the rainforest and also from the beach in Florida and also from--”

“We moved around a lot when I was your age,” Obi-Wan tells her with the perfect amount of patience. Anakin can’t stop himself from moving his arms until he’s holding his hand in his. Hopefully the other man will understand it as trying to play the part of a lovedrunk fool instead of actually being a lovedrunk fool.

“My job had me moving a lot,” Qui-Gon tells Leia.

Obi-Wan snorts.

“It’s true,” Qui-Gon says, nonplussed.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Luke, you need to eat your vegetables too.”

Luke pouts. “They’re disgusting,” he says. Anakin knows for sure that Leia taught him that word, seeing as he says it with all the confidence and vitriol she does.

“It’s good for you, Luke love,” Obi-Wan murmurs. He’s only started to refer to the twins like that in the last couple of week, but Anakin has to fight a shiver every time he does. The man has special nicknames for Anakin’s children, and Anakin is expected to not be in love with him?

Yeah, no.

Luke bites at a piece of broccoli unhappily.

“They’re really your children,” Qui-Gon says, sounding deeply impressed and something else that Anakin can’t identify.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan denies very quickly.

Anakin cuts him off. “Yeah,” he says with utmost certainty. “They really are.”

[iliketowrite1996]

Blind Dates part 2

Part 6/10 of singledad!Steve Rogers x Reader series

Part 1:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614617294578089984/his-best-girl

Part 2: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/614969499334197248/meet-the-music-teacher

Part 3: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616114724817584128/lunch-buddies

Part 4:https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616328582794493952/why-not

Part 5: https://iliketowrite1996.tumblr.com/post/616965238563192832/blind-dates-part-1-sneak-peek

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- Death of a parent, child feels guilty for the death, loss of a spouse, heartache, absent parent, blind dates, making decisions, grief, loss, acceptance.

It’s been a few weeks since his date with Sharon, and Steve has loved every minute that he’s spent with her. She’s sweet to Jasmine, includes her on Saturday dates, and cares about Steve for more than his looks.

And Steve’s not quite ready to call this love, but he would say that he likes where their relationship is going.

‘’What are you thinking about, Steve,’’ Sharon asks him on a Friday night in november, when Jasmine is spending the night at her aunt and cousin’s place.

‘’Hmmm, nothing. I love how sweet you are with Jasmine,’’ he explains, smiling at her before taking her hand, ‘’I think she  is starting to grow on you.’’

‘’I’m glad to hear that,’’ Sharon smiles a bit, accepting a kiss from Steve as they sit on her couch, ‘’So. How was work today?’’

‘’Oh, you know, the usual,’’ Steve shrugs casually, ‘’Paint everywhere, had to tell a kindergartner to stop licking the desks, Jasmine practically jumping with excitement to go to music class.’’

‘’Oh, she loves music?’’

‘’She does. In fact, her teacher has become a good friend of mine.’’

It’s the second to last week of November, so Steve has known you for a good few months. You’ve laughed, you’ve shared details of your move, you’ve had lunch with him a few times.

He tells her this. He doesn’t tell her how his heart breaks a bit at the fact that you have a date tomorrow, even if he does.

‘’You know, Steve,’’ Sharon smirks a bit, but Steve can detect a hint of pettiness behind it, ‘’The way to a girls’ heart is not through talking about another woman.’’

Steve can feel his cheeks heat, ‘’I-I didn’t-’’

‘’I’m kidding, Steve,’’ Sharon snorts, ‘’Listen, we’re not exclusive. I know that you have a crush on our co-worker. I don’t think that you know, though.’’

Steve looks to Sharon, not sure what to say, ‘’I… I don’t have a crush.’’

‘’Okay, Steve. Sure. Listen,’’ she sits up, taking his hand, ‘’We are not exclusive. Why not ask this woman out? You talk about her a lot.’’

‘’She’s busy. She doesn’t have time to date,’’ Steve repeats what you say after a failed date that Pepper tried to set you up with.

‘’And? So are you. You’ve got a kid, two jobs, and your art club. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Same as us. So I’m not particularly worried about this- ask her out, Steve It may surprise you,’’ Sharon insists.

And that’s what Steve is thinking Saturday morning when he’s driving around town getting things for Sunday Dinner with Nat and Bucky.

   ‘’Yeah, sure,’’ he tells the woman on the other end, ‘’She can bring her kid. I’ll bring Jazzy.’’

   ‘’Thank you so much, Steve. You’re a sweetheart.’’

   ‘’No problem. I’ll meet her at the arcade at, let’s say…5. ‘’

   ‘’Alright, I’ll relay the message. Thank you, Steve.’’

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

   ‘’Where are we going, dad,’’ Jasmine questions Steve, as he pulls out of their apartment complex’s parking garage.

   ‘’Well, I had a date. But she has to  bring her kid, so I’m bringing you. I feel like I told you this.’’

   ‘’I wasn’t listening,’’ Jasmine admits.

   Steve glances at her before returning his eyes to the road, ‘’Jasmine, where did you get that hat from?’’

   ‘’Auntie Patricia. She said...she said that it was mom’s.’’

   And it was- a black,velvet hat with a pink blossom on it that her mother had got at a thrift store.

   ‘’It was. Your mom… she loved that hat. I gave it to your Aunt Patricia when your mom passed away.’’

   ‘’Dad, do you ever still miss her?’’

   ‘’All the time, sweetpea. But, hey, I’ve got God and I’ve got you,’’ Steve grins at her when he stops at the red light, ‘’And you’re so much like your mom.’’

   ‘’I am?’’

   ‘’Mhm. She loved to sing, too. Off-key, though,’’ he chuckles as he moves with the flow of traffic at the green light, ‘’And sometimes, she’d do this thing where, if she was trying to remember something, she’d snap as soon as she did. Drove me nuts, and you do it too.’’

   Steve can tell that she’s reflecting on this new found information, so he is silent until they pull into the parking lot of the arcade.

   ‘’Like my outfit,’’ Jasmine poses as they get out of the car.

   She’s dressed in her black sneakers, blue denim overalls, a rainbow long sleeve shirt, and the blossom hat.

   She looks so much like her mother.

   ‘’You look gorgeous, honey. Come on. Let’s get going,’’ Steve tells her, and the dynamic duo make their way to the arcade.

   Steve looks to his phone, and, pulling out the app that he uses to call parents from home so that they didn't have his real number, calls his date.

   ‘’Hello,’’ she answers on the second ring.

   ‘’Hey. Um, we’re here. Are you?’’

   ‘’I am,’’ Steve hears, ‘’We’re at a table over by the ski-ball machine. You can talk to me while you walk this way.

   ‘’Got it,’’ Steve grabs Jasmine’s wrist guiding her through the sem-crowded arcade to find his date for the evening, ‘’Thanks for being patient. I’m sorry we’re late.’’

   ‘’No worries. Thanks for being so relaxed about me bringing my daughter. My aunt and uncle have a wedding that he’s ordaining today, and my babysitter fell through.’’

   ‘’It’s fine, I’m actually happy about this,’’ he admits, ‘’We get to spend time with our kids and see about this.’’

   ‘’Hmmm… you’re right. That does sound… Steve?’’

   Steve looks to see none other than you on your phone, gaping up at him.

   ‘’Hey, what are you doing here,’’ Steve questions.

   ‘’Waiting for my date, what are… Steve, are you my date?’’

   ‘’Looks like it,’’ Steve glances next to you to see Olivia, his little helper from Mrs. Storm’s class,’’Olivia! How are you doing?’’

   ‘’I’m good, Mr. Rogers,’’ she speaks before burying herself in your arm.

   ‘’She’s shy,’’ you reveal, and Steve  nods.

   ‘’I didn’t know she was your daughter,’’ Steve tells you before Jasmine clears her throat, ‘’Jasmine, she already knows you’re my daughter.’’

   ‘’You’re dating my teacher.’’

   ‘’We’re not dating,’’ Steve sighs, ‘’This is a blind date. It’s one date. Does it make you feel weird?’’

   ‘’No,’’ Jasmine shrugs, sliding into the street across  from you and Olivia, ‘’I’m chill.’’

   ‘’...Stop copying Sam. Anyway,’’ Steve looks to you as he sits next to Jasmine, ‘’I didn’t know you had a daughter.’’

   ‘’Are you okay, sweetie,’’ you ask Olivia, who nods, before you turn your attention back to Steve, ‘’I don’t tell everyone, I just like to keep work and home separate.’’’

   ‘’Respected,’’ Steve nods, ‘’Listen, I’ll get the girls some  tokens, and you order the pizza? I think we can talk while they play games while we talk.’’

   Because, boy, do you two have a lot to talk about.

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

   Under your instructions, Jasmine and Olivia are playing some frog game where you hit them with a mallet while you and Steve keep an eye on the two.

   ‘’I didn’t know you were my date. My aunt said his name is ‘Grant’.’’

   ‘’Steven Grant Rogers,’’ Steve chuckles, looking down, ‘’I asked her to tell you that. I go by my middle name if it’s someone at the church, just so that the date is truly a blind date until we meet up.’’

   ‘’Speaking of which… I thought you were with Jasmine’s mother,’’ you approach the subject, ‘’You talk about her a lot. I just thought…’’

   ‘’No, it’s quite alright. I can see how you got that,’’ Steve looks to Jasmine, wistfulness filling his eyes, ‘’Petra, Jasmine’s mom, passed away the night that she was born.’’

   ‘’Steve,’’ you gasp, ‘’Steve, I...I’m sorry,  I didn’t.’’

   ‘’No, no, it’s fine. I talk about her a lot but mostly for Jasmine’s sake. She’s always hesitant to bring her up. I want her to know that it’s okay,’’ Steve watches as Jasmine takes the token cup in one hand, and Olivia’s hand in the other, and guides her over to the skee ball machines, ‘’What about Olivia? Is her dad around?’’

   ‘’He couldn’t get out of town fast enough. I haven’t seen him in five years,’’ you grimace a bit before smiling at Olivia, ‘’She’s one of my greatest blessings though, and I thank God for her. Even if her dad is trash.’’

   ‘’Tell me how you really feel,’’ Steve jokes, causing you to laugh at your shared bluntness.

   ‘’I mean, I've forgiven Darryl. That’s his name-I forgave him. Steve, iit hurt to hear her ask about her dad and cry about things that she needs him for, like the daughter-daddy dances. My dad and brothers went with her to stuff like that when we were in Texas, but you know… my uncle is even busier. Between charity events, running the church, Bible study… I don’t know. I don’t want to ask more of them. I just moved out. I feel like I can’t ask them.’’

   ‘’Hey, they love you. They helped me with Jazzy, I know they’ll help you, too. And, if you ever need a hand, I’m here.’’

   ‘’Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that,’’ you grin just as your pizza arrives, ‘’Thank you. Steve, I’m gonna take the girls to the bathroom and let them wash their hands, alright?’’

   ‘’Alright,’’ he agrees, ‘’I’ll watch the food and wait for the drinks.’’

   Pretty soon, you’re finishing up the pizza, and laughing while you do so.

   ‘’Daddy tries to sing,’’ Jasmine frowns, ‘’He’s doing his best.’’

   ‘’Thank you, honey. You’re grounded,’’ he laughs when she looks at him with fake hurt, ‘’Alright, chickadee. Go play. You’ve got thirty minutes.’’

   ‘’Okay, daddy. Come on, Olivia,’’ she grabs the five-year-old’s hand, pulling her to the air hockey table.

   ‘’She fancies herself a bit of a big sister, huh,’’ you look to Steve before looking back at your daughters, ‘’She’s always wanted a little sister. And her Aunt Nataasha and Uncle Bucky are happy with their dog, and Sam still hasn't settled down yet. This is the closer she’ll get.’’

   ‘’It’s sweet. She’s a sweet kid, Steve. You’ve done a very good job at raising her.’’

   ‘’Thank you. You’ve done a great job with Olivia, too.’’

   ‘’You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today,’’ you breathe out, blinking back tears, ‘’It was a rough day.’’

   ‘’I understand. If you ever need to talk or vent,’’ Steve places a hand on top of yours, causing you to look at where your hands are together on top of the table, the fluorescent lights above doing very little to illuminate how beautiful it is, his hands on yours,

   Be still,your beating heart.

   ‘’Steve…’’

   ‘’I don’t want to make you think that I’m forcing you into liking me or something. I mean.. I am dating other people. Well, one other person. Not exclusively,’’ Steve sighs, ‘’I don’t know. I just don’t want you to think that I am trying to make this be more than it is. I like us being friends, and that’s most important to me.’’

   For the past five years, you’ve been  focusing on Olivia and making things as normal as possible for her in all aspects that you haven’t seriously thought about dating. It always came down to her. The only reason you moved was to start over in a new life for yourself, and, in doing so, give Olivia a new life.

   ‘’I don’t know how I feel right now.Because I don’t want to lose this friendship, either.’’

   ‘’So then let’s just see where this goes,’’ Steve pats your hand gently before pulling his hand away, just as Olivia and Jasmine rejoin you, coming back with none other than DeShawn.

   ‘’Hi!,’’ DeShawn greets you both, ‘’Mr. Rogers, I’m here with my mom. She asked if she could take Jazzy and I for ice cream in about a half hour , then she’ll drop her off at home.’’

   Steve looks to his watch, and notices that it’s only seven, ‘’Sure. As long as Jasmine is home by 9:30. ‘’

   ‘’Thanks, Mr. Rogers!’’

   ‘’THanks, daddy! Bye,’’ Jasmine hugs Steve, you and even Olivia, ‘’I’ll see you later.’’

   ‘’Bye!’’

   The two are rushing off then, leaving you, Olivia and Steve.

   ‘’It’s an hour to bed time, little one,’’ you remind Olivia, ‘’Let’s head home, Livvy.’’

   ‘’But I want ice cream, too.’’

   ‘’Tomorrow. Otherwise you’ll be up all night,’’ you remind her, grabbing her coat, ‘’Since you got the tokens, I’ll pay for the pizza, Steve.’’

   ‘’Don’t worry about it,’’ Steve begins to reach for his wallet.

   ‘’No, I insist,’’ you button your daughter’s coat.

   ‘’Well, at least let me drive you to your apartment, like trail you. I just want to make sure you get home safely.’’

   You stand, folding your coat over your arm, ‘’Why?’’

   Maybe you’re being irrational and over defensive, but it is what it is, and you’re committed to protecting Olivia from getting attached just to get hurt.

   Olivia… and your own heart.

   ‘’Just as friends. I did it for my friend Nat  before she and Bucky got married. Promise.’’

   So that’s how you find yourself carrying Olivia as Steve unlocks your door.

   ‘’So my great-niece is passed out, huh?’’

   You and Steve look to see your aunt and uncle. Dressed from the wedding earlier.

   ‘’What are you two doing here?’’

   ‘’You really should charge your phone, dear,’’ your aunt takes your sleeping kindergartner, ‘’We came to check up on you.’’

   ‘’I’m sorry,’’ you sigh, ‘’It died at dinner.’’

   ‘’Well thank goodness for Steve, then, dear,’’ she winks at him, ‘’I’m gonna get her dressed in her pajamas.’’

   ‘’Steve. Always a pleasure to see you,’’ your uncle greets your date for the evening with a handshake.

   ‘’Pastor,’’ Steve acknowledges before your uncle enters behind your aunt, closing your door to give the two of you privacy.

   ‘’Sorry about them,’’ you chuckle, nervously clasping your hands together in front of you, ‘’Well… I’m going to church tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you then.’’

   ‘’See you then,’’ Steve nods, rocking on his feet, ‘’Um… not to be ...imposing. I don’t know if that’s the correct word. But can I kiss you?’’

   It’s funny, he thinks, because he hesitated with Sharon. But not with you.

   ‘’I… I think I’d like that,’’ you whisper, just before Steve leans in and you…

   Pull away.

   ‘’I can’t. I just… Steve, I like you. But I really don’t want to go fast, because that’s how I got hurt last time.’’

   Steve is no stranger to being hurt. He’s been on countless of failed dated, lost the love of his life, and now he’s trying to juggle growing feelings for Sharon with a crush that has long been on you.

   ‘’I understand. Listen,’’ Steve leans his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, ‘’I want you to know that you can trust me. I’m not… I’m not here to hurt you or Olivia.’’

   ‘’It’s gonna take a minute for me to see you as a potential partner and not just a coworker or friend, Steve. And I need you to respect that. Besides… you’re already seeing someone else. And I think that you should spend some time seeing the both of us before you make a choice about any of this.’’

   It’s a cop out, you feel, but also the truth. You’ve got Olivia to think about. And though you know Steve is a good guy, are you sure that you’re really ready for this? Thinking about dating him and actually dating him are two vastly different things.

   ‘’Am I getting ahead of myself?’’

   ‘’No. I , I think, with both of us being parents, we have to consider our daughters. So, no pressure. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’’

   ‘’Yeah. Bye, Steve. Good night.’’

   ‘’Good night,’’ Steve turns on his heels, away from you and back to his car.

   And, for the first time in a while, Steve Rogers is left without a plan…

   And no idea how he feels about it.

   ‘’So… what’s the problem?’’

   ‘’I like Sharon, I like my co-worker. I’m not here for advice, Nat.’’

   It’s been three weeks since your date, and it’s two weeks before Christmas. Since then, you’ve enjoyed Skype dates, Saturday lunches, Wednesday Night Bible Study, and a Sunday dinner with Steve and sometimes your daughters…

   While Sharon has enjoyed Friday nights, Saturday breakfasts, and Wednesday early dinners with Steve,

   He’s been dating the both of you, and he’s honestly not sure who he’s more interested in. He loves your dedication, your sensitivity, your caring nature. But he adores Sharon’s spitfire attitude, sarcasm, and willingness to arrange her schedule without even having a child of her own.

   So here he is,after Sunday morning church service, at Nat and Bucky’s for dinner.

   ‘’Yes, you are,’’ she leans her head against her hand, glancing to where Jasmine and Bucky are in the kitchen, fixing up dinner, ‘’Because of Jasmine.’’

   Steve has spent the last ten years of his life making sure that Jasmine has everything she needs, and that if he can’t get it for her, someone can. He’s turned down dates, poured out savings to pay for things that he needs her to have, borrowed from Sam..

   Anything that he can do to take care of her.

   ‘’She’s my daughter, Nat. I’ve got to consider her.’’

   ‘’Yeah, I know, Steve. I’m not telling you not to. But you… how do  I say this? Steve, you’re using her as an excuse.’’    

   Steve looks to Natasha with a blank look, ‘’How’s that?’’

   ‘’You know I'm right. You find something wrong with every woman that you date, Steve. Don’t even-,’’ she holds up a hand before he can cut her off, ‘’You do. And most of the time, it’s valid. But here are two great women, who care about Jazz in some way, who accept her and you, who like you for more than your looks… and you’re looking for advice because you’re afraid.’’

   ‘’No, my co-worker is afraid,’’ Steve stresses, ‘’She doesn’t want to get hurt.’’

   ‘’And you don’t want Jasmine to get hurt,but you don’t want yourself to get hurt.’’

   Steve is ready to sputter out anything to refute her, to say how she’s wrong.

   ‘’You're glad that Sharon wants you to date others and you’re glad that your coworker is afraid because you are. Because you are constantly comparing every woman that you meet to Petra, Steve. Because... ,’’ Nat takes his hand, ‘’Because that hurt you to a point where you’re afraid to try again. And if I am wrong, I’ll admit that I’m wrong. But look me, one of our best friends, in the eye and tell me that’s not true.’’

   Steve can feel his tears, and Nat acts quickly. She tells Bucky that she’s showing Steve what they did with their office space, and guides him into the spare room, knowing that he doesn’t want to cry in front of Jasmine.

   ‘’Steve,’’ she sighs, not one for hugs, but opening her arms for her friend.

   And Steve, for the first time in years, crumbles at the thought of Petra.

   ‘’I can’t do it again, Nat,’’ he’s sobbing into her arms again, ‘’Not again.’’

   ‘’Hey. Hey, shhh… it’s okay,’’ Nat shushes him, ‘’Steve, you can’t hold this in all of the time.’’

   ‘’I’ve got to do it for Jazzy.’’

   ‘’Steve, look at me,’’ Natasha urges him, ‘’Jazzy is trying to hold it for you. She asked me if I had any more pictures of her mom. I really think something’s going on with her. Peter talks to Tony… her grades are getting better, she didn’t mind giving up her solo to spend more time studying...but really talks to her, Steve. About her mom, I mean. You know Bycky, Sam, Tony, Pepper and I are here for you.  You’ve got us.’’

   ‘’That’s the worst pain I’ve ever been through. I never want to go through that again.’’

   ‘’Steve, I can’t promise you that you won’t. I can promise that you never have to go through it alone. You have the strongest faith I have ever seen in someone. You can get through this and you're not alone.’’

   Steve thinks of her words, of the friendships that have become like family relationships, of all of the things that his partner has told him about faith…

   And of the premise that he made Petra the day that they found out about Jasmine- to always be there for her no matter what.

   ‘’Nat,’’ Steve sighs, pulling Nat into a hug again, ‘’I don’t know what I’d do without you.’’

   ‘’Your life would suck,’’ she deadpans, laughing when Steve place a friendly kiss on her head.

   ‘’You comforted me, and you said you didn’t have any maternal instincts. You know I love you, and Jasmine adores you.’’

   ‘’I love you both, too. You know that. And, I guess it’s about time that I got some maternal instincts to come out. I’ll be needing them in about seven months.’’

   Steve’s grin starts slow, but he can totally see Nat being a great mom, and Bucky being a great day, ‘’Does Buck know?’’

   ‘’Not yet. I’ll tell him tonight, after dinner. So, please, don’t tell anyone else.’’

   ‘’Your secret's safe with me,  but we'd better get out there before they get worried.’’

   Nat Nods in agreement, and the two walk out to find Bucky and Jasmine setting the table for dinner.

   ‘’Everything okay,’’ Bucky asks the two of them, eyes on his best friend and wife as Jasmine sets forks on the table.

   ‘’Yeah, what have you two been up to,’’ Nat inquires, ‘’That salad looks amazing, Buck.’’

   ‘’My assistant made it,’’ Bucky Gestures to Jasmine, who bows gracefully.

   ‘’That’s my girl,’’ Steve high fives his daughter, ‘’Looks good, sweetpea.I can’t wait to dig in.’’

   When dinner is over, Jasmine and Steve go home, change into their pajamas, and lounge on the couch.

   ‘’Only a few more days until the Christmas concert?’’

   ‘’Igues,’’ Jasmine shrugs, ‘’I don’t really care about the solo, so I’m glad it went to Alexandria.  DeShawn’s mom said she’d take us shopping over the weekend. Dad… daddy, I don’t want to do anything for my birthday this year.’’

   Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that.

   ‘’Why not, Jazzy?’’

   ‘’Because it makes you sad. It makes you think about mom. And you don’t…’’

   Steve looks over to see his daughter wiping tears furiously, ‘’Jazzy? Jazzy what’s wrong?’’

   ‘’I’m just tired! I just… dad, why don’t we talk about mom more? WHy don’t you show me more pictures?’’

   And there it is. It finally came out, and Steveis both happy that he knows what’s bothering his daughter, and upset that he didn’t see it sooner.

   ‘’Come here,’’Steve pulls his daughter in a hug, ‘’Sweetheart, why didn’t you say anything sooner?’’

   ‘’I don’t know,’’ she shrugs, wiping her face, ‘’Dad… I just. I miss her, and I didn’t know her.’’

   ‘’That’s fine, sweetheart. I should have talked about her before. I Didn't want to upset you, but I guess that I did.’’

   ‘’I love spending time with Aunt Patricia, I love Aunt Nat.But I just feel like I don’t… I look at DeShawn and his mom, and Olivia and her mom. I want that. ‘’

   ‘’I know you do,’’ he sighs,kissing her head, ‘’I’m so sorry, Jazzy.’’

   ‘’It’s okay,dad.’’

   ‘’It’s not okay, but we will remedy the situation. Tomorrow, I’ll pull out her old pictures. Next time you feel like this, Jazzy, talk to me. You know that I want what’s best for you.’’

   ‘’I know, daddy. I love you.’’

   ‘’I love you, too, Jazzy.’’

   And the two stay like that for a bit, just spending time with each other, talking between the two of them.

   ‘’Dad, do you like both Sharon and my teacher?’’

   ‘’I think I do,yeah,’’ Steve admits, because he’s always been honest with his daughter, ‘’But I’ve got you to think about, too, Jazz. So I won’t rush into anything.’’

   ‘’Dad, I love you, but… I like them both, too.  Sharon is nice and fun, but so is my music teacher. I mean… it would take some getting used to. But I like her, and she won’t be my teacher when I go to middle school next year.’’

   Jasmine sees the world for what it is, while also weighing the possibilities. Just like you. And it’s something Steve has already known, and he just now realizes that his daughter is very mhc mature for a ten year old, and he somehow got to witness her transformation into a young lady and missed it in the blink of an eye.

   ‘’When did you get so smart?’’

   ‘’I always am. It’s late, dad. I’m going to bed. Love you.’’

   ‘’Love you, too, Jazzy.’’

   So Jasmine heads off to bed, and Steve retires to his own room shortly after, with a plan for tomorrow.

   First he’ll get up early and pull out those pictures of Petra to show Jasmine after school. Then, he’ll text Sharon and see if they can talk. Finally, he’ll see you at school, and talk to you.

   Steve has learned that he has to accept certain things, but he can fight for what he wants at times, too.

   And if it’s meant to be, Steve is sure that it will find a way.

DISCLAIMER- I own no Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, planets, countries, galaxies, etc. 

@ashanti-notthesinger @destinio1 @afraiddreamingandloving @airis-paris14 @syreanne @chaneajoyyy @90sinspiredgirl @shemiahsmelanin @zillmonger @skysynclair19 @marvelpotterlove @constantlycravingtheunknown @imaginewhoever @wakanda-inspired @pocmarvelworks @theunsweetenedtruth @dreampovx @adrioola21 @supremethunda @thisiskayesworld @mcusocialimagines @priya212  @kumkaniudaku  @airis-paris14 @alexundefined @fonville-designs  @dramaqueenamby  @mellowjellow6 @oceanscorazon @nerd-lovely @fonville-designs @akimi-youngblood @yoyolovesbucky @fd-writes @areubeingserved-too @areubeingserved

[meghalayacareer]

RBI Recruitment 2023: Officer Grade-B (291 Posts)

RBI Recruitment 2023: Reserve Bank of India (RBI) has released an employment notification for the recruitment of 291 no’s  Officer Grade-B vacancies. The last date for submission of the application is 9th June 2023. 1. Post Name:- Officer in Gr-B (DR) – General - No of posts:- 222 - Essential Qualification:– Graduation in any discipline/Equivalent technical or professional qualification with minimum 60% marks (50% for SC/ST/PwBD applicants) or Post-Graduation in any discipline/ Equivalent technical or professional qualification with minimum 55% marks (pass marks for SC/ST/PwBD applicants) in aggregate of all semesters/ years. 2. Post Name:- Officer in Gr-B (DR) Department of Economics and Policy Research (DEPR) - No of posts:- 38 - Essential Qualification:- Master’s Degree in Economics with minimum 55 percent marks or an equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/ years (or any other master’s degree where “Economics” is the principal constituent of the curriculum/syllabus, namely MA/ MSc in Quantitative Economics, Mathematical Economics, Financial Economics, Business Economics, Agricultural Economics, Industrial Economics) OR Master’s Degree in Finance with minimum 55 percent marks or an equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/ years (or any other master’s degree where “Finance” is the principal constituent* of the curriculum/ syllabus, namely MA/ MSc in Quantitative Finance, Mathematical Finance, Quantitative Techniques, International Finance, Business Finance, Banking and Trade Finance, International and Trade Finance, Project and Infrastructure Finance, Agri Business Finance) OR PGDM/ MBA with minimum 55 percent marks or an equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/ years with specialization# in Economics/ Finance. 3. Post Name:- Officer in Gr-B (DR)- Department of Statistics and Information Management (DSIM) - No of posts:- 31 - Essential Qualification:- Master’s Degree in Statistics/ Mathematical Statistics/ Mathematical Economics/ Econometrics/ Statistics & Informatics from IIT-Kharagpur/ Applied Statistics & Informatics from IIT-Bombay with a minimum of 55% marks or equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/ years OR Master’s Degree in Mathematics with a minimum of 55% marks or an equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/ years and a one-year postgraduate diploma in Statistics or related subjects from an Institute of repute OR M. Stat. Degree of Indian Statistical Institute with a minimum of 55% marks in aggregate of all semesters/ years OR Post Graduate Diploma in Business Analytics (PGDBA) jointly offered by ISI Kolkata, IIT Kharagpur, and IIM Calcutta with a minimum of 55% marks or equivalent grade in aggregate of all semesters/years. Age limit - 21 to 30 years as of 01.01.2023. The Upper age relaxation as per Govt of India norms. How to apply for RBI Recruitment 2023: Officer Grade-B Jobs? Interested and eligible candidates may apply online for the Reserve Bank of India Recruitment Portal https://www.rbi.org.in/ from 9th May 2023 to 9th June 2023. Application Fee - For SC/ST/PwBD Candidates: Rs. 100/- - For GEN/OBC/EWS candidates: Rs.850/- - For Staff: Nil This Job notification has been updated based on last year’s notification. Please wait for the detailed official notification to be published on 9th May 2023. Those who wish to apply are advised to go through the below official notification in detail before submitting applications. Online Application Link Click Here Download Official Notification Click Here Job Updates on Telegram Click Here Read the full article

[savitadahake-blog]

Why Chetan Solanki is called the Solar Gandhi of India?

When was the last time you came across a person who has turned his life around principles beyond the boundaries of materialistic well-being and with a passion and potential to run a global movement? It is not only rare but fortunate to know a man, famously known as the solar man of India or the Solar Gandhi, Chetan Singh Solanki. The bitter realities of the unfolding future are no more a mystery, it has been years where institutes and research centers have been indicating towards a survival battle, with nature. But do we really need to fight nature, or save it?

Mr. Solanki has all the answers to these, in conversation with the Machine Maker, he elaborated his journey, of becoming the solar man, with a vision of re-establishing Gandhian philosophy. The former IIT professor has dedicated his life to try his very best to leave no stone unturned in bringing a large-scale change, and the following journey will reflect the selfless path he has chosen.

Solar Energy: A Path Chosen to Build the New India

Chetan belongs to a very small village, where to date there is no bus connectivity, a primary school with one classroom in his days, and two over the years. He saw his village struggle every day, and that is when he decided to do something for his people. While still a student at IIT, he came in contact with Anna Hazare and other social influencers and kept on broadening his reach. With proper guidance, he took the path of solar energy to become his medium to extend help.

With a high paying job, he chose to go to Europe to do his Ph.D. Although he was always persistent in coming back to his country, he was so determined that he kept count down for almost 1230 days, till the day he returned. Soon he became a professor at IIT Mumbai, but still, he was not satisfied, and the contribution was not big enough for him, as he wanted to establish something that has results and not vain researches. He took his first big step in 2010 by starting a school near his village with a 14-acre campus and 1000 plus students, operating completely on solar energy supply. He observed how kerosene lamps were being used in villages with a shortage of or no electricity and wondered why not replace each kerosene lamp with a solar one.

He took his first leave in 2012, and stayed in a village for 3 months, and concluded that the problems were affordability, availability, and repairability. And the solution to it all was to make it locally, as it reduces the overhead costs and in turn, lowers the cost with lower acquisition rates, plus if people know the technology, repairing will not be a difficult task. The entire model clicked very well and within 4 months they were able to provide 20,000 solar lamps at 50% cost and 50% subsidy from students. It took the opportunity and asked privileged children to donate lamps to the unfortunate ones, and the entire concept was successful.

Chetan did not stop here, he wanted to scale up to make it a project which would not be termed as a pilot project but something big and sufficient, hence, he took his plan to IIT. “The goal was every child should have right to light,” expressed Chetan. What started as a word of mouth was starting to transform into a movement, when he set up a target of providing solar lamps to 1 million students in 1 year.

He introduced a 1/3 funding model, where he would take 1/3 from the society and1/3 from the child benefit, and soon with this model, NGOs and organizations like Tata Foundation, Idea, etc pitched in. This created thousands of jobs and immense confidence. The impact grew so large that people started saying to him that due to these lamps the deaths due to snake bites and other casualties started to decrease, and light became a life savior.

He next invited Piyush Goyal to help expand the mission; he not only was impressed with the demonstration but agreed to help. They finalized on a 7 million lamp project and achieved reach to eight and a half million families. But lamps alone cannot be enough. He wanted to create livelihood missions. The major people making solar lamps locally were women, and Chetan witnessed their amazing stories of confidence, where they were no more inferior to their husbands. This motivated him to keep going, so he came up with around 1000 solar marts owned and operated by women.

In 2018 IPCC reports revealed harsh truths of global warming due to careless energy consumption. Startled by this, Chetan went on a solar yatra (trip) to 30 countries, with a mission of providing training to 1 million students to make their own solar lamp.

Read Full Story @ https://www.themachinemaker.com/machinemaker/solar-gandhi-chetan-solanki-energy-swaraj-solar-bus