#One of my classmates said that this song would be perfect and it was

[cassiesc0rner]

Impurities

Synopsis: You’re the new girl at East Highland High, your only goal is to get through school. Until you come across Nate Jacobs

Genre: suggestive, slight angst,

Pairing: Nate x fem!reader

Warnings: manipulation, lying, misogyny, slutshaming, reader has a negative body image/implied body dismorphia, dark themes, slightly suggestive but no smut in this one, let me know if I missed something

Song rec: music to watch boys to - lana del rey

WC: +8.6k (oops)

Other parts: previous part, next part

A/N: This is my first upload on tumblr help?? Also English isn’t my first language so please keep that in mind and be nice :,) feedback is always appreciated!! Currently working on part 2 ᥫ᭡

You were the perfect prey for Nate

You were cute, just so fucking cute that it almost drove him crazy, and so polite during lessons, never refusing anyone anything, whether they asked for a pen, or if they could copy your homework, which you always had ready. In his eyes, you were perfect, the only right choice for him.

He knew you wouldn’t fuck up the way Cassie or Maddy did, you wouldn’t disappoint him like they did.

Sure, your style wasn't his thing at all -not that you dressed awful or anything, you were really into y2k, and just loved wearing baggy jeans or any jeans for that matter, and graphic tops combined with sparkly accessories, chains and rings.

He wished you'd wear something more... feminine, like skirts and cute dresses, that show off your assumingly perfect body, he also wished you'd wear brighter colors.

Another thing he loved about you, was that you were really smart and didn't seem to pay attention to boys at all, which surprised him because he was used to girls being all over boys, only wanting one thing from them and he hated it because they were all so predictable.

But you weren’t.

It also kind of scared him at the same time though, because what if you just really weren't into boys to begin with?

He didn't know much about you except for the fact that you loved music, movies and tv shows. Or at least that's what you said, when you had to introduce yourself to the new class.

It had been just a few days prior that he had broken up with Cassie at that time, but he was sure that in this moment, when you stood there in front of the class, with your trembling hands, shy smile and quiet voice, he was head over heels for you.

You just enrolled to East Highland High, you knew no one yet. That had to be his biggest advantage ever, since you didn't know about any of the bad things Nate has done so far, and no one could take you away from him once he earned your trust. Because why would you trust anyone else more than him?

It was your third day at the new school when he decided to approach you.

During lunch break you sat alone, listening to music as you tried to subtly look around the huge cafeteria, searching for someone else who was alone.

Everyone shared their table with at least two other students, except for you and some other girl that sat alone as well.

You considered approaching her and sitting with her, maybe she was nice and maybe she had other friends? But you decided not to do it, because maybe you'd disturb her or something. You sighed and scrolled through your phone, when you suddenly noticed someone standing in front of your table.

You slowly looked up and noticed it was one of your classmates. You quickly fished one of your earbuds out and stopped the music "Hey.." You said, as you smiled at him. He smiled back at you, the smile genuine as he replied "Hey, can I sit for a moment?" he gestured towards the chair in front of you.

You were confused.

Confused because he wanted to sit with you? Yes, you were new to East Highland High, but this wasn't the first school you ever attended. You could tell who's popular and who isn't.

And Nate Jacobs was definitely popular. He had to be.

Quaterback, extremely tall, and extremely good looking, there was no way he just wanted to sit and talk to someone like you. What if he's gonna bully me? Take my lunch money and beat me up? But that would be absurd.. right?

You nodded before removing the other earbud as well. "What're you listening to?" He asked, genuinely curious "Oh... um... just Lana Del Rey." You said nervously as you looked at your phone, too scared to look him in the eyes.

"Oh cool.. which song?" He'd be lying if he said he knew literally any Lana Del Rey song besides Summertime Sadness and Video Games, but he wanted to know nonetheless. Maybe he'd listen to it at home to check out what kind of music you listen to "It's called..." You hesitated for a moment before finally saying "'Music to watch boys to'" You knew how that sounded.

Nate chuckled once he heard the name of the song and saw your flustered expression "Is that what you're doing? Listening to music while you're watching the boys here?" He joked. You chuckled nervously "No, really that's the last thing I'd do. I'm trying not to look at anyone longer than a second." You smiled as you locked eyes with him for seemingly less than 0.5 seconds.

Nate nodded "Yeah, I can tell." He cleared his throat "Just came over to introduce myself since you're new and everything." He reached over the table, stopping right in front of your phone, inviting you to shake his hand "I'm Nate."

You knew that already, since the two of you had classes together and you paid attention during attendance, to memorize the names of some of your classmates.

You carefully reached over and shook his extremely large hand. "I'm y/n, but you probably know that already." You once again chuckled nervously, thinking back to the painful introduction you went through at each and every new lesson you went to.

"Yeah, right." He nodded, smiling as his mind went there as well. During maths, arts, and English, he was lucky enough to see you introduce yourself over and over again. You slowly retrieved your hand again and Nate couldn't help but feel sad at the loss of contact.

He took a look around the cafeteria before setting his gaze back onto you "So, why are you sitting here all alone?" He asked in a slightly less playful tone "Hm.. I don't know," You shrugged "I guess I just don't know how to approach people." You smiled again.

What Nate had noticed in this short amount of time, is how often you smiled at him, and how you tried to keep that expression.

He didn't only notice it in this moment while he sat in front of you, but also during lessons, whenever someone talked to you, you rarely kept a neutral expression, always a friendly smile on your lips.

You were unbelievably insecure.

Always trying to remain friendly, out of fear of being perceived as unfriendly or unapproachable or anything that could be perceived as negative. He got you figured out faster than you could've imagined.

When he didn't respond, you continued "I actually considered talking to that girl over there, since she's alone as well.."

Nate looked over to the girl you were referring to before smirking and looking back to you "I wouldn't do that." You frowned in confusion "Why? Is she mean or something?" Nate shook his head "She just... doesn't talk, I don't think I've ever seen her talk to anyone before. She always sits alone and stares... into the void or something, even during lessons she barely responds to the teachers." he pointed out.

You sighed "Wow... And I thought I was socially incompetent." He chuckled and shook his head "No believe me, it can always be worse." You nodded and smiled again. Once you didn't reply, Nate continued "But, to be honest, you don't seem socially incompetent at all. You actually seem fun to be around."

You looked up at him again, this time for a bit longer than 0,5 seconds, and raised your eyebrows "You think so?" Nate nodded "Yeah, of course, you don't?"

You thought for a moment am I actually fun to be around? It had honestly been ages since you had actual friends. Sure, you had classmates at your previous schools, who met up with you from time to time. But it never felt like an actual friendship, with trust and sincerity.

You figured that you just weren't easy or fun to be around, that you just bored them eventually, even though you tried to be as fun as possible.

But your parents also played a big role.

Your mom has been strict and didn't want you to go out with friends too much, because she was scared you'd get hurt. She constantly fought with you and your father, because neither you nor your dad shared the same amount of paranoia she seemed to have.

And your dad was constantly moving cities, and even states with the two of you, whenever he had a new, better job offer. East Highland High was probably your third highschool so far, and even if you wanted to stay polite and make friends, you didn't want them to get too close to you, because the moment you had to move it'd be over anyways.

"I don't... know.." You said, and for the first time your smile actually faded. Not into a sad expression, but your smile just seemed to slip, and Nate felt like he got just the slightest bit closer to you.

"I don't really have any friends outside of school, and since I have none here either.." You shrugged again, not sure what to tell him. He nodded "Well.. you have me now, we can be friends." You looked up at him again, your eyes wide. You waited for him to laugh and tell you that all of this was a prank or something, but he didn't.

"Um... Thank you, but you really don't have to do that. I bet you already have plenty of friends." Nate shook his head and said "You can never have enough friends," He had a point, not everyone lived a socially awkward life like you did "besides, as I said, you seem cool to be around." He added.

"Thank you, I'd love to be your friend." You responded with another smile. Nate couldn't believe that he got this close to you in just five minutes, and that you didn't seem to question any of his intentions at all. In his eyes, he didn't only achieve his goals for the day, he also did you a huge favour.

You had someone you could count on, someone to hang out with, you weren’t alone anymore.

Then the doorbell rang, informing everyone that the break was over now.

"Alright, we have maths now, let’s go together, yeah?" He asked as he got up. You nodded and grabbed your phone, stuffing it in your bag before you got up as well.

Two weeks passed after you first talked to Nate, and as it turns out, he really seemed to be your friend.

You went shopping together, spent time mostly at your place, because your mom wanted to keep an eye on him since he was a stranger and most importantly a boy, and you even went to his football game once. You seemed truly happy whenever you were with him.

A little too happy for your own liking.

Because deep down you knew you might have to leave him behind eventually, or that he'd get bored of you at some point.

Not to mention that you, against your own will, developed a small crush on him. But who could blame you when he was the first boy who ever truly cared for you like he did? Or bought you gifts and showered you with affection like he did?

Yeah that was another thing that Nate did. He loved buying things for you.

At first it were just small things like ice cream from the gas station, or snacks from vending machines. But eventually, the gifts got bigger and bigger despite you telling him that you couldn’t possibly pay him back.

Sure, your dad's job did pay him a lot, but you were sure that Nate's dad had to earn at least twice as much for his son to be able to buy that many things.

Last time you two went to the mall and he saw a pair of earrings for more than 200$, he dragged you along with him and showed them to you saying "They'd look so pretty on you." It almost felt like he was your boyfriend.

Usually the girls in the movies you watched would pressure their boyfriends into buying them expensive jewelry, and into spending their money on them, but Nate seemed to be the other way he around.

He was pressuring you into allowing him to spend his money on you.

Just like that day when the two of you went into another boutique, because Nate convinced you that "it'll be fun!", to put it in his words.

The moment you stepped into the boutique, you felt somewhat uneasy. You walked in with your ripped jeans and tank top on, and the only clothes you saw were dresses, skirts, and tops that you'd never consider buying. Not to mention the shoes that they sold, looked nowhere near as comfortable as your sneakers did.

Nate knew that.

He only had to look at your face for a split second to know what you're feeling. You felt like you wouldn't fit in, or like these clothes wouldn't suit you. But he knew how to convince you.

He spent two entire weeks with you after all.

Any normal person would say that's not enough to fully know somebody, but Nate had his ways of finding out almost every insecurity, fear and worry of yours, just by subtly asking the right questions.

And none of them shocked him, since he already figured out that you were socially anxious and insecure.

But he also knew what you needed. You craved someone who loves you and gives you constant reassurance, someone who tells you what to do and who to go out with, like your mom did, because that's all you knew your entire life.

You needed to be loved and touched, craving intimacy with literally anyone, because you never had friends who'd hug you tightly when you were anxious, or hold you close when you needed it, and your parents didn't either.

And he could give you all of that and more, once the time was right.

He also figured that you haven't had a boyfriend yet, or haven't been intimate with anyone yet, and that thought alone made him crave you even more, if that was even possible.

The fact that he would be your first everything, was enough to get him going, and motivated him to show you your true potential.

And he knows that you’d let him.

He always dreamt about how easily you'd let him have his way with you, and how he'd corrupt you. Nate had sadistic thoughts as well, fantasizing about making you cry and beg him for forgiveness for something that wasn’t even your fault.

He also dreamt of leaving marks and bruises all over your body, so that you and everyone else knew you’re his.

But he wouldn't want to hurt you, he knew from experience how bad that could end for him.

And the moment he saw your innocent eyes looking up at him and your smile while doing so, the violent thoughts got replaced with the need to protect you from any man that even just walked near you.

"You okay?" He asked casually before he walked towards one of the racks with skirts. "Mhm.. I just don't think I want to buy anything here, Nate..." You said as you nervously looked down at your feet, feeling bad for possibly disappointing him.

Nate turned around and looked at you "Don't you want to try something on at least?" Before he let you respond, he came up with an idea "How about this, I'll put together an outfit and you can try it on and see for yourself if you like it or not." He asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.

You sighed and looked around the store, noticing that they also had jeans skirts, and a dark red leather skirt that you thought was really pretty. Nate's eyes followed your gaze and he immediately started searching for something he wanted you to try on.

Sure, a jeans skirt might be a good start as well, since it might make you feel a bit more comfortable and at least show off your legs, but the leather skirt was just absolutely slutty in his eyes. He didn't want you to walk around at school -or anywhere for that matter- like that, like you're 'asking for it'.

While you walked towards the two skirts, Nate walked towards another section. He picked out a pastel pink short sleeve top, with a bow in the middle and a sweetheart neckline. He smirked as he imagined you inside the rather tight top, knowing that he's the only guy that would be near you while all the other boys could only dream of being close to you.

He then picked out a pair of black flats, which he knew you wouldn't be opposed to, simply because of the color alone, white stockings and a white and pink plaid mini skirt.

Then he walked over to you, as you still looked at the various skirts. "y/n, your outfit is ready!" Nate exclaimed once he was behind you, and you couldn't help but flinch as he pulled you out of your daydream.

You turned around and looked at his full hands, trying not to grimace at the bright colours. The shoes looked alright however, and where the only dark piece of clothing. "Nate, that won't suit me," you said as he handed you the clothes over "are you sure you want me to try it on?" you didn't even finish the question before he nodded.

You sighed before walking towards the changing room. "I'll wait outside until you're done." he said before you closed the door.

Once it was closed you sighed once more and started to undress. You liked Nate, more than just in a friendly platonic way, and if any other guy would've told you to dress up like that, you definitely would've refused.

But Nate did so many nice things for you, the least you could do was to make him laugh for a bit. Because you already expected that that's what he'll do once he sees you in this outfit.

Once you were left in your underwear you looked into the mirror, feeling insecure. You didn't like your body at all. You just weren't shaped like the girls on the cheer squad, and you also didn't seem to have their proportions. And now you had to wear a skirt that would expose your huge legs and belly.

You felt sick at the thought of Nate seeing you in this outfit. You looked at the skirt and panicked because what if he thought you're skinnier, and he picked the wrong size? You'd have to tell him to get you a size bigger, and it would be super embarrassing.

You put on the top first and gulped when you noticed how tight it was, your chest on display. But you were sure it was supposed to sit a bit tighter. Then you shakily grabbed the skirt and put it on, and surprisingly it closed and sat perfectly fine. Except for the fact that it was quite short.

You then put on the stockings which ended right above your knee, and the shoes. You looked into the mirror again and turned to the side, throwing various poses to check it out from different angles.

And then you frowned, because for some reason the fit looked pretty cute, but... would you actually go out like this? Definitely no- "Are you ready?" Nate asked impatiently. You started to contemplate whether or not you wanted Nate to actually see you like that.

"Um... y-yes but it looks really stupid i'm gonna undress again-""No!" he almost yelled, startling you "Please let me see, I bet it looks good." he rolled his eyes, glad that you couldn't see him behind that door.

He liked that you weren't too confident or too sure of yourself and needed his reassurance, but he really wished you'd actually listen to him right now.

And then you finally opened the door "Come in.." and it really took everything in him to not rip the door open and gawk at you.

He gently opened the door and looked at you, his eyes wandering from your head, which was hung low as if in shame, to your exposed cleavage, to the way the stockings hugged your legs, to your shoes.

He had to control himself or else he'd pop a boner right here, right in front of you, because, god you looked so pretty. With the way your hands were fidgeting again just like the first time he saw you. You looked so shy and submissive under his gaze.

"You look so pretty..." he said in a serious tone, so serious in fact, that you immediately looked up at him. "Really? I feel kinda..." you didn't dare to finish the sentence.

The last time you called yourself fat in front of him, he almost lost it. He got just as serious as he was right now, saying that you looked fine and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with you.

Sure you weren't shaped like Maddy was, and you didn't have the perfect thigh gap, but Nate was aware that you were extremely pretty nonetheless. You were almost perfect, and everything that wasn't perfect would be taken care of.

Like your style.

This was a small step for him but a huge one for you, and it would be an even bigger step for you to dress like that on the daily, but he's sure he can help you with that.

"Seriously, you look absolutely.. wow." he added, and it only got you more flustered. Maybe dressing like this isn't so bad if Nate thinks it's pretty, hell even if he's the only who thinks so, his words affected you more than anything anyone at East Highland High could possibly say. "Wow.. Thank you.."

He cleared his throat and took a step closer, towering over you even more. "You obviously don't have to listen to me,” he lied “but... I personally think it looks better than your usual dark outfits." When you looked back into the mirror he continued "You shouldn't hide behind those… wide pants and loose tops, you should wear more outfits like this and show everyone how pretty you look."

When he saw you smile, he knew he had you where he wanted you. It wasn't just a forced smile, it was a real one, a flustered one. You loved that he found you pretty, even if you couldn't see it for yourself. And he knew how important his opinion was to you.

Hearing his compliments alone made you want to change your style a little, just so that he doesn't change his opinion. "You really think this fits me?" You asked one more time to make sure that he actually meant it.

He nodded eagerly placing his hands onto your shoulders "I promise." He felt like he could melt with the way you were looking up at him "I would never lie to you, you know that, right?" As if in trance you looked into his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah of course." You smiled up at him, feeling so small in front of him. "I'll try to check for cheaper options though, if you don't mind. Maybe something that isn't from an expensive boutique." you chuckled. He frowned instantly before responding "No, keep the outfit, I'll pay for it."

You shook your head right away, thinking back to the expensive things he had bought you already. "Nate, you need to stop spending so much money on me, I mean it. I highly doubt that i'm the only friend you spend that much money on."

Nate tried not to laugh at your statement. Of course you were the only person he spent that much money on.

As if he'd buy McKay, or any of his other 'friends' for that matter, anything above 10 bucks. "Y/n, I promise I’m not spending too much money." You wanted to believe him, but deep down you knew why Nate did all this.

Or at least you thought you did.

He was used to being used for money by his friends, there couldn't be another explanation, it had to be the reason. Why else would he feel the need to buy you, who he saw as his friend, so many expensive things?

"And also I kinda forced you to try it on, it's the right thing to do, trust me." You sighed shaking your head in disbelief "Fine, but you really don't have to, you know that?" He nodded as a smile made its way onto his lips.

He wished he could kiss you right now, but needless to say that wasn't possible yet. He couldn't wait for the day he would finally have you to himself, safe and happy with him. Walking next to you, with your hand in his, he could already imagine Cassie's and Maddy's faces when they see the two of you.

Nate wasn't blind nor oblivious, he saw the way Cassie eyed you like she wanted to murder you, or the way Maddy would shake her head whenever she looked at the two of you walking down the hallway.

Sure he had to come up with a plausible story before one of them could get to you without him noticing, and ruin his perfect plan. He honestly doesn't know what would happen to them if they decided to ruin his plan.

But that wasn't important right now.

What mattered was that you finally owned the perfect outfit, only because of him, and you’d only wear it for him too. You didn't even talk back or hesitate as much as he had expected.

Everything was going according to plan, and it was only a matter of time until you would cave in fully and listen to him all the time.

The next day you got ready for school, and decided to put on the outfit Nate had gotten you the day prior, but combined with a long cardigan to prevent you from flashing anyone at school.

Not to mention your mom who would probably freak out once she saw your outfit for school.

You brushed your hair, and put on the earrings Nate bought you previously. They were beautiful, dangling bows with a small diamond in the middle.

You told Nate he didn't have to buy them for you and that you'd find a cheaper variant online, but he insisted nonetheless.

You wondered what it would be like to be his girlfriend as you applied your lipstick.

Not that you'd actually ever be his girlfriend. He probably wouldn't even consider dating me.. was all you could think. And you also wouldn't ever consider actually dating him.

What if you'd have to move again? It wouldn't only break your heart, but his too.

"Y/n?" Your mom pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of your now open door -because knocking was completely overrated anyways.

She gave you a disapproving look as her eyes moved up and down your frame. You hadn't put on the cardigan yet, so you could only assume what she's thinking. "What are you wearing?" She finally spoke.

You sighed as you looked down at your feet. "Mom I-" She immediately shook her head "Nate told you to wear this, didn't he?" You groaned in frustration, all hopes of avoiding any confrontation now gone.

Your mom scoffed at your lack of response. "Have you seen yourself? You look like..." You raised your head and looked at your mom "Like what?" She crossed her arms and sighed "Like someone else!"

You knew that this wasn't what came to her mind first, but decided not to comment on it. "No one forced me to wear this. I wanted to wear this." Your mom frowned, not believing you one bit.

And even if you wanted to go to school like that, she felt sick at the thought of all the boys seeing her daughter in such an outfit. "Get changed, right now."  Was all she said before turning around and leaving your room.

You stomped after her "I'm going to be late to school if I change now!" you yelled as you followed her into the kitchen where your dad sat, completely unfazed by the argument which was taking place.

"That's your own fault, and don't yell at me like that." She responded, not even looking at you. "Mom, I'm not going to change."

She turned around once she grabbed her mug from the kitchen counter. "Oh but you are already. You are changing, because you would never wear something like this, especially not to school."

"Am I not allowed to change my style once in a while? You never approve of the way I dress anyways so why are you making a big deal out of this now?." She shook her head once again "You don't get it, y/n. You're... changing, as in ‘you’re becoming someone that you’re not’!" you scoffed in disbelief "I'm a teenager, of course I'm changing."

You turned away from your parents, and made your way to the hallway to put your shoes on. Once you reached your shoes you heard footsteps following you "You're really gonna go to school like that?" Your mom asked.

Once you slipped into one shoe you turned around and nodded. "You're grounded young lady, I hope you're aware of that." You slipped into the other shoe as you responded "I've been grounded my entire life, mom. Try harder." you said as you pushed past her to get your backpack.

Your mother just stood in the hallway, completely baffled. But before she could think of anything to say, you left the house already. Quickly making your way to Nate's truck.

Nate loved picking you up from home.

He wished you'd let him pick you up anywhere anytime, no matter where you were, but you only let him pick you up when you both had the same lessons in the morning.

He had told you that he'd pick you up even if you started earlier than him, but you immediately brushed it off.

Once you saw him your frown disappeared and you tried to smile again.

But Nate noticed. He always noticed when you were frowning, and when he saw your outfit he could already imagine what or specifically who made you frown.

To say that Nate disliked your parents would be an understatement. Whenever he would come over to your place, your mom would eye him and make snarky remarks.

Not only that, but she would sometimes enter your room -without knocking of course- every ten minutes to check on you, always with some sort of excuse as to why, just to make sure that the two of you weren't doing anything she would disapprove of.

He couldn't even hug you goodbye when he'd leave because when he did it once, your mom eyed him as if he was hurting you.

And your dad? He didn't know if he hated him even more.

He was barely there when Nate came over, and whenever you'd talk about him you would complain about him never caring about your arguments with your mom. He simply stayed out of it until it would annoy him, then he'd simply tell his wife to 'calm down' and that you 'shouldn't overreact'

And if you still wouldn't stop fighting with her, he'd simply get up and smoke outside or drive off to god knows where.

Having an overbearing mother and an absent father didn't do you any good, he'd gladly just have you move in with him, but his dad was probably even worse to live with than yours was.

"Everything alright?" Nate asked once you stepped inside the car, put your seatbelt on and sighed. You nodded, not looking at him "My mom's just mad at me because I'm wearing this to school today.." you explained as you fidgeted with your skirt.

That's when you noticed that you totally forgot to put on your cardigan in the heat of the moment. You mentally face palmed, knowing that you'd have to walk around like that without being able to hide at least a little bit of your body.

Nate nodded as he started the car. "I'm sorry to hear that... She’s always picking fights with you for no reason..." You nodded as you looked out of the passenger's window.

He looked at your thighs, which were just slightly on display, and fuck he would do everything just to touch them.

He decided to test the waters and reassuringly placed his hand on your thigh. You flinched slightly, not expecting the sudden gesture, but you didn't react in any way, which relieved him a lot.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, yeah? You can always come to my place or call me and I'll be there to pick you up and get your mind off things, alright?" You nodded with a soft smile on your lips.

You slowly turned back to him "Where have you been all my life? I would've needed you way sooner." Nate tried to contain his happiness.

You telling him you needed him, letting him touch your thigh and wearing his outfit? He was sure that he was the happiest man alive right now.

"Yeah, I also wish I could've been there sooner. But I'm here now, and I'm not gonna leave again." he assured. You placed your hand atop his on your thigh and nodded "Thank you.."

Everything was going so so well, until this Jake guy from your arts class decided to speak to you. He must've seen you with Nate, the two of you were almost inseparable after all. Did he have a death wish or something?

The way he looked at you as well, it made him sick.

You didn't even notice it, you were your usual friendly self, telling him something Nate couldn't make out from his seat, two rows behind the two of you. But it couldn't have possibly been funny enough for him to laugh so hard, that he had to place his hand on your shoulder for support.

He never cared much about Jake, never even talked to the guy, but he'd love to beat the shit out of him right now. Only stopping when you tell him to.

But based on your personality, you'd probably stop him right away.

Nate had more than enough however, when the guy still had his hand on your shoulder after ten seconds.

Nate got up, the sound of the chair scraping along the tiles on the floor so loud, that both you and Jake turned around right away.

Nate stared daggers into Jake as he made his way to the two of you, resulting in Jake's eyes widening slightly and him finally removing his hand from your shoulder "Move." was all Nate needed to say for Jake to smile at you one last time before immediately getting up and walking to his friend's desk.

You frowned at Nate not sure what had gotten into him. "Are you mad? Is everything okay?" You asked, worry evident on your face.

He was more than happy that you reacted this way, instead of asking him what the fuck was wrong with him for scaring the poor guy like that.

He shook his head before smiling "Everything's fine don't worry.. Jake's just really flirty with every girl that he sees, I just wanted to protect you." he reasoned.

You frowned, not aware that Jake has ever flirted with any girls in your classes, or you to begin with. He just seemed friendly, but you brushed it off nonetheless, knowing that Nate probably knew him better than you did.

"Wait, you’ve never had a boyfriend?" Nate asked in feigned disbelief, as you two sat in his living room after school one day. You shook your head in response as you waited for Nate to laugh at you.

Except, he didn't.

It only made him happier that you finally confirmed his theory.

He didn't expect you to have any ex-partners, since you told him you never really socialized or had stable friendships with anyone in the past.

He figured you also hadn't been in a relationship as well then. But your confirmation only made him happier. And you didn't seem like the type to just sleep with the next best boy you meet so he figured you also must be a virgin.

And he was eating it up.

Whenever he'd jerk himself off, he’d think about you and how fucking amazing you'd feel around him. How shy you would be in front of him once you two got intimate for the first time.

And after every time he came, he craved you even more. It took everything within him to refrain from picking you up and carrying you to his bed whenever you came over.

But he always told himself that the wait would be worth it.

He'd wait just for you, no matter how long it'd take.

"I just never got to form that kind of connection with anyone, since I barely talk to people.." You said as you played with the hem of your red sundress.

Yeah, you also started wearing dresses.

You told yourself that Nate wasn't the reason for it, but you knew that without him, you would have never considered wearing them in the first place.

You saw the way he looked at that one cheerleader, during one of his games last week and despite the fact that you never wanted to date him, you couldn't help but feel the urge to be... perfect in front of him.

Nate also noticed that.

Before, you'd just wear your baggy jeans to school, preferring comfort over style. But ever since last week, you seemed to constantly wear dresses and skirts.

Not only that, but you also did your best to appeal to him. You wore more make up, you shaved your arms despite not being too hairy to begin with. You put so much effort into looking even more beautiful than you were already.

He wasn't sure why though, because he didn't push you that much after you went to the boutique. He was praying that you only do it for him and not to impress any other boy at school though.

"Besides, it's useless anyways. Who knows when my father is gonna move again.." You said, suddenly feeling sad as you thought about your life without Nate.

Nate considered that as well.

He didn't like the idea at all and he'd do anything to stop that from happening. To stop your parents from taking you away from him.

Hell, he'd buy you a flat somewhere if he has to, or have you move in with him if that's what it took.

Nate took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your knuckles "Hey, don't think about that alright? We'll find a solution if that should happen." he said reassuringly.

You nodded, a small smile on your face. You loved it when Nate was affectionate. You seemed to be the only person he was genuinely nice to.

"What about you though? I bet you had plenty of relationships." You grinned, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

Nate chuckled "Yeah I didn't have that many relationships, but the ones I had were… intense." He answered "Oh, that bad?" you asked as you frowned at him.

He was more than glad you asked, because now he could finally tell you about Maddy and Cassie in a subtle way.

Once he was done, you’d never even consider believing them.

He nodded in response "Yeah... I was with Maddy for a pretty long time, do you know her?" he asked, hoping to find out whether she's talked to you or not.

You thought for a moment before nodding your head. "I think she's in one of my classes. Maddy... Perez?" Nate nodded, swallowing hard.

He was hoping you didn't know her, praying that the both of you never cross paths. But that was hopeless considering how popular she was.

"She's.. definitely something." You chuckled dryly as you couldn't help but compare yourself to her.

You didn't stand a chance with Nate if that's his type.

You always thought she was really pretty, and since she was on the cheerleading team, you knew she must be popular too. You always saw her with her group of friends and you admired her style, her beauty, her confidence, everything.

But she always seemed to give you weird looks and now you could imagine why. She probably was still in love with Nate, and didn’t like him having female friends.

Nate noticed the smile on your face falter just a slight bit, and he could only assume that she must've treated you badly that bitch, always causing fucking problems

"What do you mean?" You shrugged, unsure of how to explain it "She just... She's really pretty and I like her style. I wanted to compliment her before but she always gives me this look." You responded, your gaze locked onto the carpet.

Nate frowned at the thought of her.

How dare she even look your way? And how dare she make you feel uncomfortable? He could imagine why she was looking at you though, probably annoyed by how much time you and him spend, and how obedient you were already.

Something she could never do.

"But maybe I'm just imagining things, I might be a bit paranoid.. She's really pretty though, I bet the two of you looked great together.." Nate cringed at your words.

He couldn’t stand her, and the thought of everything he did for her, despite her acting like a bitch all the time, made his blood boil. The sound of her voice alone gave him chills, reminding him of how often she’d yell at him in front of her friends.

He's sure that you and him would look way better together.

"I'm honestly glad we're not together anymore.. She was awfully mean, and just so ungrateful." he sighed as he looked to the ground. "She constantly blamed me for everything when she was clearly at fault, fuck, she even..."

You weren't sure if you've seen Nate so vulnerable before, so hurt and all because of that girl. "…She even cheated on me at a party, in front of everyone, just because we had an argument." your eyes widened.

You did not expect Maddy to be such a bad person. Especially to someone like Nate, he seemed like he'd give his all to the person he loves. He was giving you his all and you weren't even his girlfriend.

You removed your hand from his, and scooted closer to him, wrapping your arm around his firm back and leaning your head against his arm. "I'm so sorry Nate.. you didn't deserve that.." You said as you stroked his back.

Nate suddenly got goosebumps, not expecting you to hug him like that. He was convinced he deserved an oscar for that performance, that's for sure. He leaned into your touch, enjoying how close he was to you, and the sweet scent of your perfume.

"It's alright... I got over it eventually. Sometimes people just disappoint you and you have to learn to live with it." he responded.

Which was an absolute fucking lie.

He still wanted to hurt her for humiliating him like that back at the pool, and he also still prays for her downfall and a chance to humiliate her just as bad.

You lifted your head and looked at him "We don't have to speak about her anymore if you don't want to. I'll even slap her for you if you want." you said half jokingly.

You'd never purposefully hurt anyone, or risk being the center of attention at school. But you just wanted to see Nate happy. He seemed so sad right now and even if he said he's over it, you knew he wasn't.

Nate chuckled before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you flat against his chest "There's no need for that. I'm just glad that you're here right now, you're all I need." He said as he stroked your shoulder.

You tried not to freak out.

The fact that he held you so close and literally told you that you're all he needed made you feel things, you didn't want to feel.

You didn't want to feel like he liked you more than just in a platonic way. You didn't want to get your hopes up, hell you didn't even want to have a crush on him.

You were so sure that you didn't have a chance, especially when he told you who his ex girlfriend was, but then why did he treat you like that? Why did he tell you you were all he needed?

“Do you also know Cassie, by chance?” he asked after a moment of silence. You thought for a moment, before shaking your head. He sighed, both in relief and in annoyance as he remembered her.

“Cassie and I also used to date. But she turned into an absolute psycho after some time. She was totally obsessed with me…” Nate explained before he sighed. “If she ever talks to you, tell me, alright? Same with Maddy, don’t talk to any of them.” he added suddenly very serious.

You nodded in response “What exactly did she do..? If you don’t mind me asking.” You asked carefully, since it seemed to be a touchy subject for him.

“She was.. possessive, unpredictable, and insecure. I was scared of her sometimes I can’t even lie... She just has this insane look in her eyes, at first I didn’t notice it but as our relationship progressed, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Your eyes widened once again. If she really was that possessive over Nate, what if she thinks you two are together? Would she actually hurt you? You swallowed hard at the thought.

Nate observed your reaction, taking notice of how pale you became suddenly He didn't mean to scare you, but he had to warn you, in order to protect you from both of them.

"Jeez, that's... actually scary." you chuckled dryly, not sure how to react to the newfound information. "Don't worry though, I'll protect you from them, you got nothing to worry about." he said as he looked at you longingly.

Would it be too soon to ask you to be his now?

Probably the wrong moment to ask you, since he just told you about his crazy ex girlfriends. But he didn't want to wait any longer, he couldn't wait much longer.

Not when his need for you became stronger and stronger.

Sure, being your friend and spending time with you was amazing. You were sweet, funny and you wouldn't refuse him a thing. But it wasn't enough for him, not really.

He needed to act soon, because it frustrated him more and more each day. Nate just had to catch you talking to a boy from your class and it made him furious.

Not to mention how sexually frustrated he was.

His hand was not enough to satisfy him anymore, he craved so much more and that only caused him to be insufferable at times, unable to relax and always in a bad mood.

He really tried his hardest not to lash out on you like he did on McKay or his teammates. He was sure that if Cassie dared to approach him or you he'd absolutely lose his shit.

“Didn’t know you were home yet.”

You and Nate turned towards the person who just entered the living room in unison. It was Nate’s brother Aaron.

Great.

Nate rolled his eyes and sighed. Why was he home already? “Yeah, school ended earlier today.” He replied drily. He did not want Aaron to interact with you in any way, since he knew how off putting he could be.

“Let’s go,” Nate got up as he looked at you with a cold expression. You knew not to ask any questions when he got like this, so you just nodded and got up from the sofa.

“Woah, who are you? New girlfriend?” Your eyes widened as you laughed nervously “Oh, n-no we’re just really good friends.” You stated as you smiled at his brother.

And it bothered Nate so much. Why were you smiling at him? He knew you only wanted to be polite, but it bothered him because Aaron wasn’t worthy of your politeness or smile.

He wanted to be the only guy you smile at, even though that’s basically impossible with how fucking nice you were.

Aaron smiled back at you, as he playfully tilted his head to the side “That’s surprising, d’you have a boyfriend already?” He asked before he looked you up and down “Because you’re definitely Nate’s type.”

The room fell silent for a moment, mostly because you didn’t know what to say to that at all, and because Nate tried his hardest not to turn into an aggressive asshole in front of you.

You once again chuckled nervously, before you swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling like your heart would jump out any moment. “Um… I don’t have a boyfriend and I’m sure that I’m not Nate’s type.”

You didn’t even know why you said the last part, because you could tell that Nate was fuming more and more with each word you said to him. Before Aaron could respond, Nate did “Alright enough, Aaron, we’ll head upstairs now if you don’t mind.”

Aaron sighed exaggeratedly “That’s too bad, I really enjoyed the company of…?” he said as he looked towards you now “Y/n.” You responded, and Aaron nodded “Y/n, go ahead, you know where my room is.” Nate commanded.

You really wish it didn’t, but his demanding tone and sudden change of persona really did something to you. It excited you in a way.

You nodded and walked towards the hallway, where Aaron was standing. Before you could pass him though, he moved in front of you, looking down at you with a predatory grin “You know, if Nate doesn’t want you, I’d be totally down-”

Your eyes widened in response as you heard Nate stomping towards the two of you.

Nate had more than enough by now, “Shut the fuck up already!” He almost yelled. Aaron chuckled “I was just joking around why’re you so mean in front of your cute little friend?” He mocked before smirking at you again.

Nate turned towards you, this time even more irritated “Go upstairs, now.” You gulped and finally moved towards the stairs again, quickly making your way up.

You were sitting on Nate’s bed as you could hear his deep voice downstairs and you were sure he’d actually beat his brother up. You couldn’t make out what he was saying except for a very loud “Stay the fuck away from her!”

You didn’t have to wait for long until Nate entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He eyed you with a mixture of possessiveness and longing but also with a hint of softness.

His mind was currently occupied with fantasies about fucking you on his bed, while you moan about how good he feels, and how he’s the only one you need, while his brother is forced to listen to your moans that echo through the entire house. Knowing he could never be lucky enough to be in his spot.

He wondered if you’d be into that? If you had this corrupt side that no one knew about. Maybe you fantasized about him as well?

“Sorry about my brother, he’s a fucking asshole.” Nate stated as he walked towards you. “I hope he didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable..” He added as his gaze softened.

You shook your head, your signature smile on your lips “No, don’t worry. Are you okay though? I hope you guys didn’t fight too hard..”

He loved how considerate you were despite everything that happened. Despite Nate being somewhat rude to you earlier, and his brother making you uncomfortable, you still cared for Nate.

“No, not much more than we usually do, don’t worry.” He sighed as he plopped down on the bed next to you. “Wanna watch a movie?” He asked as he tilted his head to the side. You smiled and nodded in response.

Nate turned his TV on and grabbed the remote before he plopped down onto his bed again. He scooted towards you, wrapping his arm around you and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt more at peace than in moments like these. Nestled against him, comfortably on his bed.

And Nate felt the same way, if not even more at peace.

You were his escape from his fucked up family just as much as he was yours, and you were the only one he truly cared for besides himself. He couldn’t wait until he could finally call you his.

In his eyes you were his already, from the moment he first laid eyes on you. And he’s come so far, molded you into perfection. There’s no way he’d let you go.

All that was left now, was to make you officially his.

✎ Thank you so so so much for reading I hope you liked it :3 again don’t be shy to give me honest feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

- Cassandra

[dat-town]

another social casualty

Characters: golden boy!Jaehyun & loner!female reader

Setting & genre: hurt/comfort, coming of age, high school au

Summary: One fears not being lovable, the other fears losing people. Two lonely souls find each other.

Warnings: mentions of academic, parental and peer pressure, loneliness, nosebleed, past friendship fallout, abandonment issues (MC’s father left), anxiety, medication, crying, the romance is very slow burn, it’s more like finding safe haven in each other?

Words: 8.8k

Author’s note: title from the 5SOS song, though i listened to a whole lot of Keshi and Conan Gray while writing this. heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s crazy academic background and how he said he was in a dark place before joining KOZ, i can’t find the entire list of his school activities but here and here are some. header pic of Jaehyun is from starry-eyed

@restlessmaknae you chose this as the one you would be most interested in from my list, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint!

i did not expect to finish this before 2024 ends but here it is. wishing all my readers a 2025 spent with joy, in health, happy new year! <3

→ BEFORE

Myung Jaehyun is a people pleaser.

You can tell because you used to be the same. Not anymore. Still, you can’t look away because it’s like watching a train wreck. Terrible because you can see the cracks in his personality but intriguing at the same time. Just how much a person can mold their own material to make them fit into pre-shaped places? How can they make themselves smaller if there’s not enough space for them? It’s rush hour metro effect: one can always bend and push and press enough to squeeze inside, to turn into something they are not. This is how you become part of the machine.

You have been there. Now you prefer to be an observer. Now you don’t fake laughs over things you don’t find funny just to not hurt somebody else’s feelings. Now you rather sit alone at the canteen during lunch hour instead of pretending to be somebody you’re not just to be welcomed at a popular table. Now you prefer to be invisible rather than seen and judged. Ghosts have it better off in high schools.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t seem to know that yet.

The first time you really saw Jaehyun, the principal called him in front of the lined up classes during the school year starting ceremony and pinned a badge with the title ‘school president’ onto his uniform. You looked up from the creases of the back of your classmate’s white shirt in front of you to see a boy on the podium as rigid as the pole with the Korean flag. His dress jacket was perfectly ironed, necktie tucked in, no wrinkles in his entire attire. Not even a piece of hair was out of place. He stood there, in front of the entire school, tall and proud, as an example just like the principal called him while listing all his achievements. He was not only a straight A student, a member of the student council and the vice president of the Economics and Business Management club but he also proved his worth as part of the football team and representing the school in various regional writing competitions. The list went on and on, Principal Lee was really emphasizing just how much he wanted to have more students like him, dedicated and hard-working ones, at the school, but you tuned out everything after the first few sentences. Myung Jaehyun caught your attention not because of the way the silver badge shone on his chest or the way he kept his eyes strictly on one point ahead, mouth pressed in a firm line, but rather because of the way his fingers twitched by his sides. When you looked closer, you could tell he was picking at the skin around his nail, a nervous habit. Everything about him was proper and perfect except that.

Ever since then it hasn’t been hard to notice him. Although you don’t share a class, with all his clubs and one too many responsibilities he is kind of everywhere. He’s announcing details about the upcoming annual trip on the school radio, he’s on the top of the list that’s pinned in the school hall about the midterm results, he’s holding a trophy in a photograph for the vitrine in the hallways that lead up to the school gym.

It’s not like you’re watching him. There’s nothing weird or stalkerish in it. You’re not even like the girls who whisper scream his name when he walks by and wonder if they should ask him out. You just notice him and observe. You keep looking for flaws in his picture perfect demeanor. You look for signs that there’s a human beneath that machine he seems to be. You just watch him from a distance and you’re content with that.

Until he notices you too.

→ SEPTEMBER

It happens on a Friday evening, early in the new term, long after the last classes ended, so the school library is pretty empty. You don’t like crowds, so you prefer to visit when most students have already retreated. This way you can also avoid running into people you don’t want to meet. You greet the tired librarian by the door with a bow and with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you head straight towards the Literature section because of an essay you have to write. It isn’t due for a week more but you don’t like to leave things to the last minute purely because of the stress that rushing brings. You trace the spines of the books with your fingertip as you walk past them, searching for a specific author and when you find it, you grab it from the shelf. You press it to your chest and slip out on the other side of the aisle, ready to head back towards the librarian’s desk when you hear a sniffle. You look up, towards the source of the sound and see him.

Myung Jaehyun is sitting at one of the tables in the back, hunched over text books. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and it comes back red. It’s vivid like a blaring warning sign and your gut twists as the school president scrambles to hold off his nosebleed before it would get everywhere. His movements seem frantic, almost panicked as he fumbles with the zipper of his backpack but he freezes in spot when he notices you watching. With two fingers pressing his nose, blood splotches on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt, he stares at you wide eyed, just as frozen in place as you are.

You’re startled. The moment your eyes meet, you feel his gaze burn. You cast your eyes down and take a step backwards, ready to leave and pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did. But then you halt, thinking better off it. You swiftly reach into the front pocket of your bag and take out a small packet of tissues and a piece of chocolate you always keep with yourself in case your blood sugar dipped. You can feel Myung Jaehyun’s eyes on you the entire time you walk up to his desk. Realistically speaking it doesn’t take more than a few seconds, it is six steps at max but it feels longer with his scalding attention on you. You’re not used to being watched, you’re a wallflower after all.

You put the tissues and chocolate down on the table and turn around to leave. You don’t wait for the boy’s reaction. You don’t even look at him. You don’t stop when he calls after you. You leave as quickly as you came. Blend back into the shadows where you like to be.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t let you though.

Next week when you leave your classroom on Tuesday, he’s out in the corridor in front of the door, waiting. For you. There’s not much guessing about it since you are the last one in the class, everybody else having somewhere to run off and here you are, taking your time. You only falter for a moment when you step over the threshold and take in the sight of the school president in all his glory. Then you look down onto the laminated floor and turn down the corridor.

Jaehyun pushes himself away from the window frame he has been leaning against so far and catches up to you fast.

“Wait,” he calls after you, his voice is an echo of the sound he made back in the library.

Thinking back on it twists your gut uncomfortably as you remember the blood and how the boy looked at you like he never received kindness from a stranger. Much to your dislike, you slow your steps and eventually come to a halt when you realize you can’t just brush off the boy’s presence, so you decide it’s better to get over with. You look up at him questioningly, nails digging into the straps of your backpack as you wait.

“Can we talk?” Jaehyun asks, polite like anytime you heard him talk and he looks relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down. His tie is a little crooked today but other than that there’s nothing out of place about him. Although from this close you see the dark circles under his eyes and can’t help but wonder how much he slept last night and the night before that. He has always had the best score but it didn’t stop him from running himself thin last week if the nosebleed is anything to go by.

“If you’re worried about what happened in the library, don’t. I won’t tell anybody,” you shrug because why would you? He certainly isn’t the first senior who drives himself over his own breaking point. You had heard stories about hospital IV dip visits, students fainting after handing in their papers and ‘vitamins’ passed around before exam week. The stakes are high. The competition to get into a Seoul university, especially a SKY one is cutthroat and you know that the school president aims for that. Everybody expects him to do so. With his list of achievements and history of high scores, it sounds viable. But at what price?

“It’s not that,” Myung Jaehyun protests but despite his words his shoulders visibly go slack with relief. You can tell that he cares a lot about his reputation and it sure would have left a stain if people knew that the all so perfect school president was human too, bleeding from academic pressure right on his homework. You grimace at the thought.

“You don’t owe me anything either,” you clarify because you never expected anything in return for being a decent human being and you don’t know what else he could possibly want.

“But…”

“Really. Just forget it,” you sigh, tired of arguing already. The boy looks conflicted under his wavy fringe, almost like a puppy before schooling his expression and clearing his throat.

“Thanks anyway,” he says before stepping out of your way, so you can keep going and you do. You move on with your life, watching from the sidelines as he receives praise for his participation in a regional essay contest and when the football team returns with another hard earned win.

Days pass in a blur. Like they always did. Just another day to get through. Just another week. Just another term. Gosh, you can’t wait for high school to end. You have had enough of seeing these people.

On Monday you make eye contact with Mijoo when you come out of a stall in the girls’ bathroom and she’s in front of the mirror fixing her already perfect makeup. She used to not do that, care too much about her appearance, not before she befriended Kim Soyeon. Now you awkwardly hold eye contact for one, two, three seconds and then she looks away. You’re the one who walks away just like you did before but it doesn’t make it easier. There’s something hollow and painful in your chest, still missing something you once had.

Three days later your mother asks you about school while you help clean the tables at the café. She asks about the midterms and if you’re still friends with ‘that ponytail girl’. The reminder feels like a slap and your throat closes up.

On Friday you skip out on lunch hour and spend it lying on the bench in the yard, staring at the sky. You’re caught like that when it starts to rain. You watch it through spread fingers as the first raindrops fall then close your eyes and smile. You have always loved the rain and even though it’s impractical to get soaked in the middle of the school day, you can always change into your PE clothes, you reason.

But then the rain stops. You can’t feel the cold drops on you even though you hear the rhythmic sound of them hitting the ground and you pry your eyes open only to see Myung Jaehyun standing above you with an umbrella held over you. You shoot up into a sitting position quickly, then stand up and smooth down your uniform. Not necessarily because you’re embarrassed but because you hate being a burden to others and while you didn’t ask for his help, based on his persistence from last time you know he wouldn’t have just left no matter what you told him. Hell, he even moves to shrug off his jacket before you stop him.

“It’s okay. I have a change of clothes inside,” you explain but there’s no arguing with the school president about walking you inside. You can tell he wants to ask you something but you don’t give him a chance to. Once you are between four walls, you mutter out a polite thanks and then head to your classroom.

→ OCTOBER

On another Friday evening, Myung Jaehyun asks if he can sit at your table in the near empty library. You don’t understand what he’s getting at, so you just shrug, still focused on your homework. When you steal a glance at the boy on the other side of the table, you see him go over pages of ink writing, highlighting certain parts. There’s torn and nipped skin around his thumb nail. You turn back to your workbook before he could notice that you were looking.

“Are you coming to the school trip?” The boy asks when half an hour later you start packing your bag. The question surprises you because he shouldn’t care. He doesn’t even know you.

“No,” you answer curtly, not going into details. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve always been a homebody and you don’t enjoy social interactions, especially not school-related ones. But Jaehyun is stubborn and curious a bit too much.

“Why not?” He asks and you sigh.

“It’s not really my scene. I don’t want to spend more time around my classmates than I have to,” you shrug nonchalantly but there must be something in your voice that gives you away because the boy furrows his brows in worry.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you lie or well, not really. Technically, nothing really happened regarding the trip. But if things were like they were a year ago, you would be excited about going with Mijoo. Things just change, people too. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“You’re always alone,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice in the library’s dead still silence. He says it like it was something you should be sad about. A part of you wants to question whether he had been stalking you to notice that but that would have been rich coming from you who had been watching him from afar all along, so you decide against it.

“Yes. I prefer that way,” you tell him instead and it’s true. Better alone than with fake friends. Yet, the boy can’t even seem to fathom the idea.

“You can’t mean that,” he mutters with widened eyes and it leaves you with something bitter in your gut.

Can’t you? Just because a pretty boy runs himself thin to get everybody’s appreciation, can’t you want some peace of mind alone?

“Not everybody needs constant validation,” you snap at him and it comes out harsher than intended. You can see the hurt mirrored in Jaehyun’s eyes but you don’t let yourself linger on it as you hoist your bag up to your shoulder. “Don’t make me your charity case.”

“I don’t… I’m not…”

The always so eloquent Myung Jaehyun seems speechless now but you don’t wait for him to figure out what he wants to deny more, whether he can at all. You leave him there at the table. You’re good at that: leaving. Better be the one doing it than being the one left behind.

It’s been four years since you last saw your father. A part of you misses him, or at least the idea of a reliable father. At first you had been angry at your mother for giving him an ultimatum but then realized that at the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault. It was your father who chose his gambling addiction over you. So maybe you were better off without him.

It was around that time too when you realized that being left short on money limited your future opportunities. Not that you ever dreamed about going abroad or attending the best schools in the country. You didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life and it sounded stupid, spending so much money on education just because everybody else was doing it around you. You started helping out your mom at the café then too, so she wouldn’t have to hire another part-timer and even though now, when things are better, your mother tries to convince you from time to time to go to after school studies instead of wiping tables and washing dishes, you don’t mind doing it. You can choose the melody coming from the old retro music box, help her come up with decoration ideas for holiday seasons and taste test new baked goods. You also take your role as her social media manager very seriously, posting aesthetic photos on Instagram periodically. It’s a simple life, a comfortable one and you’re content with it.

Your homeroom teacher not so much.

He called you into the teachers’ office to talk and you already knew why. It made it a bit easier to brace yourself for the impact of his words. Him asking about the reasons why you didn’t apply to any university. He doesn’t accept your answer and your satisfaction easily, he pushes relentlessly, telling you that you would regret it one day but you know it’s not about your future, it’s about the school’s yearly statistics. You tune out most of his speech, focusing on a loose thread of his worn knitted sweater, of the low hum of the coffee machine in the back and the printer coughing up papers. Then a familiar voice reaches your ear and you glance over the cubicle wall to see Myung Jaehyun with a punch of papers in his arm. His homeroom teacher pats him on the shoulder, proud, and for a moment you wonder how the boy feels about it.

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your own teacher chides and you avert your gaze back to the man but in your peripheral view, you can see the school president turn towards you just when Mr Hong clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s always the ones without fathers. They lack discipline.”

His words burn you deeper than expected. Him blaming something like this on your lack of father, on your mother’s loving care and hard work essentially. It makes you clench your hands in fists by your sides until you’re dismissed with a resigned promise to think about it.

When you finally leave the teachers’ office, Jaehyun waits outside. His eyes are gentle and a little sad but not pitying as he asks: 

“Are you okay?”

“I will be,” you nod because it’s not a big thing, you will get over it. Jaehyun doesn’t press and you’re grateful for that.

You don’t know when it happens and how. Letting down your guard around Myung Jaehyun of all people. It happens gradually like the trees changing their green leaves to more colourful attire. You’re very different: he cares too much about his grades and image and you care too little. He has all these big ambitions and you have none. He basks in glory in front of the school and you let out a sigh of relief when you can get over a day without anybody talking to you.

You have never stopped looking at Jaehyun though. You see him in the corridor, tall and proud and confident. You see him celebrated for his achievements on the school podium and even in the canteen surrounded by all his so-called friends and admirers. The difference is that lately he has been looking back. His gaze meets yours in the busy canteen when you sit at a table with strangers like you usually do if there’s no empty table. Your eyes meet in the hall when you arrive two minutes before the bell rings and he’s on gate duty. He never talks to you, never approaches you and it makes it easier to relax in his company, knowing that he wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to you.

He finds you in the almost empty library though, sits at your table in silence and minding his own business. He doesn’t bring up the trip again and you don’t call him out on his unusual behaviour either. You just exist in the same space, without judgement, without expectations. It’s actually quite nice.

It gives you the push to go up to him too when you see him alone at your usual table in the library on a Thursday late afternoon. As you get closer you see a brochure for Seoul National University open in front of him and that he’s reading a book about writing personal statements and study plans for college applications.

“So SNU?” You ask quietly enough not to startle him as you slip into the seat across from him.

Jaehyun looks up, his hair a bit messy, probably from running his hand through it more than usual but you like this look on him. Not being oh so perfect makes him seem more approachable.

“Yeah. What about you?” He inquires, trying to make a conversation probably because you didn’t hear the beginning of your conversation with your homeroom teacher back in the teachers’ office. You used to be nervous when people asked such loaded questions, afraid of disappointing them but once you accepted that their opinion didn’t matter more than yours, it all became easier.

“Oh, I won’t go to university.”

“What? Why?” The school president’s eyes widen in surprise as if he couldn’t even imagine that and maybe he can’t. With the competitive job market of Korea, people are made to feel like they worth nothing without a degree but you never dreamed of a white collared job, so you don’t care about that. There are many respectable ways to live without pursuing higher education.

“I don’t need a university degree to help out at my mom’s café,” you explain matter-of-factly and then out of curiosity you look up at Jaehyun, the boy who picks on his skin and works hard until he gets nosebleed, who is always number one and the teachers’ favourite yet never really smiles.  “Why? Is it really you who wants to go to SNU?”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?” Jaehyun’s voice pitches higher than usual, his tone defensive. You quirk a brow, not deeming necessary to answer. It could be his parents, his teachers, the society. He must realize it too because he cast his eyes down and his fingers twitch nervously over the papers in front of him.

After a few minutes of silent shuffling around, his phone buzzes and he curses under his breath, hastily packing his bag.

“I have practice. Sorry,” he apologises, which must be a force of habit because it’s not like you agreed to hang out, nor it’s like he should be sorry for leaving early.

You just nod at him, thinking of the pressure he must have on him with all these responsibilities of which you barely see a fraction. And if you take a detour to pass by the football field on your way out of school, it’s only for you to know. You can’t help it, you get too curious for your own good sometimes and you wonder how the school president is when he plays. It’s easy to spot him when you stop to watch a bit. It’s just practice but you can see how hard he tries, how he pushes his own limits. Running and running until he can’t. He doesn’t seem to do anything half-heartedly. He’s like a flame, burning bright, but you wonder just how long could his passion last before he burns out.

“You know, for somebody who doesn't plan on going to university, you’re here a lot,” Jaehyun mentions one time after he opens his Ethics book. There’s a question hidden in his statement but you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

“My mom doesn’t let me help out on school days and I like it here better than in the empty house,” you admit because no matter how much you like being alone, an empty, cold house has a different feel. This way your mom also has the illusion that you have friends to hang out or study with after school and doesn’t worry about you that much. Half of the time you don’t even do homework, just grab a book and read.

Jaehyun hums and stays quiet for a while but you can tell he lingers, he hasn’t flipped a page in the book in front of him for ages. You wait patiently for him to speak up, for his gaze guiding to your features again, tentatively this time.

“Do you… really don’t mind being alone? Aren’t you like… afraid of not having anybody in your life? Of being lonely?” He questions and you aren’t sure what happened that prompted him to ask about that but you would be the last person to judge him after voicing out fears so human.

“I’m more afraid of losing myself while trying to make myself digestible for others and I don’t like the idea of people leaving. It’s easier to avoid that if you don’t get attached,” you answer the best you can without sharing too many details, too many scars of your past. It already feels a bit too much, a bit too personal. You aren’t exactly friends after all. He’s just a boy who sometimes sits at your table. It’s not like you would see each other after graduation, it’s safe.

“Digestible?” Jaehyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Everybody does it. They pretend to be somebody they aren’t, so others would like them,” you explain but the boy shakes his head, not exactly in disagreement though.

“You make it sound so bad. But what’s so wrong about only showing your better sides to other people?”

You don’t answer right away. Just look into Jaehyun’s eyes, letting your gaze linger over his dark circles and the bitten ends of his nails. You sigh, quietly.

“Isn’t it tiring? Being in somebody else’s skin just to be liked?”

Jaehyun could argue that it’s still his skin, that it’s just a better version of himself and you would let him. If he wanted to hide his flaws and imperfections, he has every right and you wouldn’t tell him not to do it because you know how scary it’s to bare yourself in front of somebody else and it’s not like you’re not hiding parts of yourself, it’s just easier to not have anybody around you close enough to see them.

→ NOVEMBER

CSAT exams are approaching fast: students get busier, teachers try to squeeze in just one more type of question in their classes and you can tell that everybody’s nerves are fizzled.  One would think that the school president with his consistently high scores is calm and prepared but you know Jaehyun better than to believe that facade. Still, you don’t expect to catch him on a call with his mother when you leave the football field’s bleachers. These days the school library is full of people day and night, too busy, too stressful, so you prefer killing time on the white painted benches as long as the weather’s not too cold. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you just halt in your steps when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, unsure of what to do.

“Everything’s okay, mom. Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I’m doing fine.”

His voice is cheerful but you can tell that it’s fake. You can hear him let out a deep breath when he lowers the phone in his hand. He isn’t fine. He has been running himself paper thin. Barely eating, barely sleeping. His hands tremble as he takes the pills. Whether it’s supplements or medicine for stress you never asked. He says it’s only until the CSAT is over. He says it like it’s natural, like it’s a rite of passage everybody goes through.

When you step out of the wall’s cover and Jaehyun sees you, he momentarily tenses before relaxing. You have already seen him in moments of weakness, he knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you.

He walks you to the bus stop before going back to squeeze in one more hour of studying before his body would give up on him. You think about stopping him, about telling him not to overdo it but you know that he’s smart enough to know he’s burning the candle on both ends and it could end badly. It also feels unfair of you to tell him to stop when you could never understand his ambitions, so it’s easy for you to say so. So instead of arguing about principles, or trying to stop him knowing it’s useless, you push a bottle of C-vitamin rich juice drink into his hands next morning when you meet by the school gates. It’s you saying that he isn’t alone without saying it. Because the thing is, he never was alone, not physically. But one can be lonely even when dozens of people surround them.

The day of exams is a nerve wracking one, even for you, who doesn’t care about it much because your future doesn’t depend on these scores. You can’t even fathom the pressure and how it feels for those who base their dreams on this one day. Your head is hurting from being in the stuffy classroom solving Maths problems and answering questions about paragraphs from classics all day but instead of heading straight home, you watch as students file out of the school in batches and then one by one. When Jaehyun steps outside of the building, he seems deep in thought and his hands are full of exam papers he’s still reading through. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you pull on the sleeve of his jacket. When your eyes meet, you realize that he looks beyond tired and anxious. It breaks your heart a little.

“How do you feel?” You ask carefully, taking the exam papers from his hands and folding them neatly, ready to be packed away.

“I thought I would be relieved that it’s finally over but I keep going back re-thinking my answers, wondering what if I messed it up,” the school president sighs deeply, a shaky little sound and he looks so worried with furrowed forehead and nervously tapping fingers that you have this urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and make sure he can be without worries just a bit.

“There’s nothing you can do about it now though. Maybe you should focus on something else,” you suggest, gently as you hand him back the papers and the boy nods, his fingers brushing yours as he takes it back.

“Yeah, you’re right. The regional football championship is on the corner and I need to write an essay for the school paper. Then there’s…”

“No, I meant…” You cut his anxious rambling off a little frustratedly but when you have Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes on you, curious and confused, you suddenly feel awkwardness sweep into your bones at your silly little idea. Nevertheless, you push through it.  “If you’re free this weekend, would you come with me somewhere?”

“Sure. Where are we going?” The boy doesn’t even hesitate even though he does sound a bit doubtful for which you don’t blame him. It’s the first time you initiate any kind of planned program when it’s actually you who claims she just wants to be alone and doesn’t want to get close to anybody.

“You’ll see. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” you clear your throat, a bit nervous now that Jaehyun’s full attention is on you so unabashedly. 

“Very reassuring,” he laughs but it’s a little forced sound, the weight of the day still pulling him down, exhaustion slowly wearing him down. So after agreeing on the details like the meeting location and exact time, you usher him to go home and get some sleep.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not even a friendly thing, it’s just a thing. A fun thing because you have never seen Jaehyun do anything just for fun. Almost like if it doesn’t count towards his final evaluation in life achievements, it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Or as if he wouldn’t deserve it, which is just sad. So you plan to take his mind off the CSAT results that should come out in a week or two and make sure that he relaxes a bit even if just for a few hours.

You meet up near the metro station and while you show the way, it’s admittedly a bit awkward at first, since neither of you is used to small talk between you. Luckily, the theatre where you bought tickets to a contemporary comedy isn’t far and Jaehyun’s reaction is positively taken aback when you lead him to the entrance.

“Do you like it?” You inquire tentatively, trying to assess his reaction but it’s not easy Jaehyun looks more dumbfounded than anything.

“Yeah, but… how did you know?” He blinks at you a little awed.

“You’re applying to SNU’s Literature and Theatre department. It wasn’t that big of a guess that you appreciate theatre plays,” you shrug, trying to play it off coolly as you line up for ticket inspection.

Since it’s a smaller, more local theatre you don’t look that out of place even though you’re definitely one of the youngests in the audience. Luckily, the play is as funny as the reviews claimed it to be, so you have a good time and from the looks of it, Jaehyun too. It’s the first time you see him smile, really smile without forcing it, and you wonder why he’s hiding it. It’s a beautiful thing.

When the play ends, the boy insists on treating you to dessert as a celebration for getting over with the exams in exchange for the theatre ticket and sitting in the warm, already winter-decorated place, munching on brownie, the remaining awkwardness melts away. For the first time you don’t talk about school-related or heavy matters but rather things like your favourite season, sweet cravings in the colder weather, books you read and your families. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little scary because you can tell you’re getting attached but it’s nice and you decide to focus on that. You let Jaehyun walk you home because it’s late and dark, he reasons and there’s no arguing with him.

“See you at school,” he bids his goodbye when you arrive at the building where you live just above your mother’s cozy little café.

“Yeah. Take care,” you smile shyly and you can see a slow grin make its way to Jaehyun’s lips too. It looks genuine, just how he looks at ease as if some weight was lifted from his shoulders. It’s a good look on him.

→ DECEMBER

Frost is already decorating your window in the mornings when the CSAT results are delivered. Students are buzzing with anticipation and nerves. Once the scores are out, everybody’s guessing whether it will be enough for their first pick or they should scramble for extra points somehow. Most people accept their results eventually and get ready for the holidays instead. You know that Jaehyun did well enough to be hopeful, though you know better than to congratulate too early because SKY universities have much more complex acceptable criteria than other public universities. Not to mention, you know that even with great CSAT scores and good GPA, the competition for scholarships starts even before universities would notify the students about acceptance.

When you see Mijoo cry her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks, something heavy settles in your chest. You haven’t talked in a year and you avoided each other after you got into that argument about how you wanted to live your lives but it would have felt wrong to just walk out without a word. For the sake of your happy memories before the fallout, you could still try to comfort her if she needed it.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, fully ready to be sneered at and sent away but your former best friend looks up at you with red rimmed eyes and relief.

“I will survive,” she lets out a shuddering exhale, her voice breaking between syllables. “My points are not good enough for a scholarship at Hankuk, so even if I do get in, I can’t enroll. We don’t have that kind of money. Soyeon and the others dropped me the moment they found out.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you mean it because even though you never wanted to go to university, you know how important it’s for Mijoo. More important than your friendship. And even though you have already warned her about what kind of person Soyeon is with her rich family and nicely paved future when they first started hanging out after hagwon, you don’t remind Mijoo that you told her so.

“No. I’m sorry,” she mutters and forces a hopeful smile looking at you. Slowly, you reciprocate it as you help her up. There is clearly something broken between you and it certainly can’t be fixed from one day to another but maybe it’s worth trying.

When Jaehyun asked about your winter break plans, you didn’t think he would make a visit at your mom’s café where you are now working most days. Usually it’s not you who interacts with customers, your mother and the part-timer handle it, so you’re quite surprised when Donghyun pokes his head into the kitchen and tells you that somebody is looking for you.

You’re confused but wipe your soapy hands and go outside only to see Jaehyun at one of the tables shyly waving at you. He wears a cute beanie that has snowflakes melting over the knitwear and his cheeks are tinted pink from the cold. But most importantly, he looks well rested.

“Hey,” you greet him when you reach his table and you can practically feel your mother’s curious gaze on you. “Donghyun said you were looking for me?”

“Uh, hi, yes. Actually I just asked if you were here but he said you would get you, so…” Jaehyun trails off with a casual shrug. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m here. I don’t want to be a bother.”

You hastily shake your head no.

“No! It’s okay, really. I hope you like it here,” you say and brush a piece of hair behind your ear a bit self-consciously. You love your mother’s place with your whole heart, so sharing it with him even if unintentionally feels a bit like sharing a part of yourself. But you don’t mind, you realize, not if it’s him.

“I do. Your mom makes a killer hot choco,” Jaehyun smiles softly and his compliment sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile too.

“She will be delighted to hear that,” you note as you sneak a look at the boy’s mug which definitely has more marshmallows than the standard. You turn to look at the woman behind the counter but she just waves you off, not so subtly telling you to keep your friend company, the dirty dishes can wait.

So you end up sitting down by Jaehyun’s table, talking about how he spent Christmas with his family, visiting relatives in the countryside and bickering with his older brother while you tell him about your cozy Disney movie nights and eating too much of your mother’s holiday butter cake. It’s when Jaehyun leaves and you glance at his empty spot that you realize you would miss him after graduation and joke’s on you, really, because you were the one to first approach him. You should have known better if you weren’t ready for the consequences.

→ JANUARY

The days leading up to graduation are a rollercoaster of emotion.

“So what’s with you and the school president?” Mijoo asks playfully on one of the last days of school when you’re eating together in the canteen and she catches sight of the boy with other football players as she follows your line of sight.

“Nothing,” you claim, bewildered, quickly averting your eyes back to your food, scrambling to find some excuse but Mijoo doesn’t even listen.

“Yeah, sure. I know your mother’s café is good but he’s practically a regular now,” she huffs and you start regretting that you told her that. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s tutoring your part-timer during his shifts.”

You close your mouth without saying anything because you were just about to bring up how Jaehyun and Donghyun seem to get along, the school president helping out the junior student with his English.

“Not to mention, you went to his last football match and you don’t even like sports,” Mijoo continues and yeah, that’s on you. You even dragged her along (not that she needed much of a convincing) because you didn’t want to go alone, to be so out of your element and the girl was just happy to spend time with you again.

“I was just… curious,” you mumble, poking your tofu cubes with your chopsticks on your plate.

Seeing Jaehyun on the field was like seeing a different side of him. You know thanks to his stories that he liked football since he was a kid and he appreciates the teamwork aspect of the sport but watching him play during a match felt special. Sure, he still looked focused and determined, a bit uptight like he did when it came to his academics but after the winning goal point, being huddled by his teammates, he looked so proud. It’s a look he never allows himself when it comes to his individual success because he’s too hard on himself, as if he didn’t deserve it, as if he still should have done better. So you’re glad that you went, that you could see him genuinely be happy with his team over the win. Still, you slipped away without congratulating him, letting the school crowd surround him because he was supposed to be in the center of the attention and you wanted no part of that. You didn’t think Jaehyun noticed you, not until he shyly asked how you liked the game the next time you met.

“You know,” Mijoo speaks up thoughtfully, humming against her utensils before putting them down the metal tray and looking you in the eyes.  “It’s okay to let people close. Even if it doesn’t last forever, wouldn’t that be still better than wondering about the what ifs?”

For the longest time you thought that no, it wouldn’t but you glance at Jaehyun and how he shines brighter than the Sun but hides so many moonlit parts of himself that you’re privileged to know and you think that maybe, just maybe it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable with some people.

The last day of school brings so much snow that the entire school yard is covered in cloud-like white and even the teachers give up preaching about life lessons after lunch hour. A bunch of eighteen year olds run to the field as if you were still kids and it’s that moment when it dawns on you that maybe it’s really the last time you can be freely child-like without adult responsibilities would weigh you down. Maybe that’s why you don’t protest that much when Jaehyun finds you and drags you outside to join the fierce snowball battle. For once, you don’t care about the looks you might get, you don’t care about potentially being put in the center of attention just by being with him, you don’t care about what it means to your future and you have never felt lighter.

You have snow in your hair, cold sweeping into your bones through your soaked shoes and your cheeks still hurt from laughing when later Jaehyun suggests going to your mom’s for hot chocolate to warm up. You agree easily and follow him inside to get your stuff. You shake snow off your coat, trying to warm up your cold-bitten hands by rubbing them together when you notice that Jaehyun abruptly stopped beside you.

Confused, you turn back to look at him just to see him stare down at his phone, his smile long lost from his face. You’re not sure whether it’s your place to even ask what happened, not when Jaehyun finally meets your eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost. All pale and eyes glossy.

“They…” He starts but his voice breaks before he could get the sentence out. “They rejected me.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded. You watch as a drop of snow slides down Jaehyun’s face, leaving a tear-like trace behind on his flushed face and your heart aches before you can really process what’s going on.

“SNU. I just got the rejection email,” the boy mutters and lets out a way too forced laughter. He reaches to his messy locks with trembling fingers, scattering snow everywhere as he takes a shaky breath and starts walking up and down anxiously.

You just stand there, frozen, your heart sinking at the sight of him. There’s frustration and disbelief and bitterness as a scoff scratches his throat. You can see him fighting tears, not wanting to fall apart, not here, not in front of you, maybe not ever.

It was his dream, getting into SNU, and everybody told him he could do it, that for him it would be easy and while it’s flattering, people’s trust in his abilities, it still put him on pedestal, under such pressure that it almost broke him and now you can see him being crushed down from the same weight.

You don’t know what makes you do that, from where you take the courage but suddenly you stand in front of him, stopping him in his pacing, and take his shaking hand in yours.

“How… how will I tell my parents? What‒” Jaehyun gasps for air and you can feel him squeeze your hand for support as he struggles to fill his lungs with oxygen. “What do I… do now? I don’t… I didn’t…”

“Shh,” you slide a hand over his nape, massaging the tight muscles there in a weak attempt to calm him down before he could drive himself into hyperventilation. He’s so tense from the sheer effort to not break down, tear drops clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Just let go. It’s okay.”

“No,” Jaehyun pushes back, stubborn but he’s clinging to your hand like a lifeline.

“It is. It’s just me,” you insist because you don’t judge, not for this, never for something like this. “I’m here.”

That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to give in and his tears start falling. You can feel when tension leaves his body and he all but crashes into you, his broader form slumping against you with his forehead on your shoulder, crying into your neck. You put a hand over his back, rubbing soothing patterns against his spine.

You don’t know how long you stay there. You wait until Jaehyun’s quiet sobs die down and his breathing slowly normalizes, until he pulls away enough to look into your own teary eyes. You know you couldn’t say anything to calm the mess in his head because you can’t quite understand how much this lost opportunity means for him, so you don’t tell him frivolous things like how it’s not the end of the world.

“You will be okay,” you whisper, quiet and sacred like a wish. “You don’t have to figure out how, not right now.”

A week later you graduate.

Myung Jaehyun stands on the podium in front of the lines of students and seated parents. He has a pledge of honors students on his suit and a bouquet of flowers in hands, an offer from another still prestigious university in his inbox and his parents, proud, in the crowd. His speech makes you feel nostalgic and when your eyes meet, a small smile appears on his lips, imperfect but happy, so pretty. You watch him and feel yourself smile too. Maybe it’s not actually that bad; being seen.

→ AFTER

Contrary to what you expected, Jaehyun stays as a permanent fixture in your days even after graduation. He hangs out at the café, sometimes stays even after closing, helping you put the chairs onto the tables and watching you learn how to make coffee and latte art. Sometimes you go to theatre plays or to the cinema, he invites you out to help him buy a present for his mother and then buys you hotteok as thanks.

Then university starts and he gets busier but you can tell that he doesn’t let school work bury him under like it did in high school. It’s good for him, starting fresh in a place where nobody knows him and his perfect student reputation. It’s less pressure on him and he can form genuine friendships without the fear that he’s approached only because of his influence as school president or his diligent note taking.

“I met this guy in Sociology class and he just asked if I wanted to be friends out of the blue. He invited me to hang out with him and his friends over the weekend. It was so random but it felt nice,” he says one day, leaning against the mop in his hands. You hum, letting him know that you’re listening even while cleaning the countertop. Apparently he and Sungho bonded over football, so they made plans to play one of these days.

“That’s good. You love football,” you note lightheartedly when you move to take the mop from him, checking if he missed any spots but of course he didn’t.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun hums, fixing his hair now that his hands are free and he turns after you when you walk farther to put the cleaning tools away. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanna come along? To watch?”

You freeze, avoiding looking at the boy. You do want to watch him play but being with strangers isn’t really something you’re comfortable with, even if he’s there, even if he says they’re cool. Jaehyun knows you enough though and he can tell you hesitate, so he adds:

“You can bring Mijoo too if you want. And I’m thinking of inviting Donghyun too because Sungho also has younger friends.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least you would know people other than Jaehyun too. Maybe it would be fun.

“I will think about it,” you promise and Jaehyun beams almost as if you already said yes. He’s humming along to the music from the radio while you make sure everything is ready for closing. These days your mother lets you do so a few days a week just as she’s more comfortable with the idea of actually employing you.

Once the lights are switched off and the door is closed, Jaehyun walks you to the staircase leading to the upper floors where you live and for some reason he looks nervous standing in front of you. You lift your hand to wave him goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home like always but he beats you to it with a rushed out question.

“Do you wanna go to the movies this Friday after your shift?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply easily, without hesitation because it’s him, just him, and you’re comfortable with him even if he sometimes makes your heart beat irregularly. Like right now when he blinks, all puppy-like and licks his dry lips to clarify.

“I mean… like a date?”

“Oh,” you mumble and feel air punched out of your chest as you process the information along with the unsure tilt of Jaehyun’s words. He really does look nervous. You make him nervous.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to make things weird between us but sometimes it already feels like we’re dating and I have to stop myself from holding your hand or… khm, so like I just wanted to put it out there,” he stops his own rambling, eyes darting everywhere before finally settling on you, his words filling you with warmth. “That I like you.”

“Okay,” you let out a long exhale, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your light cardigan, then clear your throat. “What… what are we watching?”

“Wait, is that a yes? To the date?” Jaehyun asks with widened eyes and a grin so wide you can’t help but chuckle fondly.

“Yeah,” you nod shyly, pink painting your cheeks under the yellow hue of the lights. “And you can hold my hand.”

You were fine alone but if it’s Jaehyun, you don’t mind taking risks.

Spin-off: hold my hand, my love

[it-happened-one-fic]

Gluttony - Leona

Author Notes: It was actually really difficult to choose what I was going to post this week. But I've been a little busy lately, so I finally just chose this one rather than working on polishing some of my other fics. I wrote this one to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier and that most certainly showed in the writing. With that said though, I'm pretty pleased with how this fic turned out. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender neutral reader/ fluff/ some angst with comfort/ romance implied/ some pining/ sfw

Word count: 1528

Leona opened his eyes groggily, a frown on his face, as soon as the sun shone down through the leaves of the tree that hung over him, briefly blinding him before he sat up.

A hum from his left had his ears twitching before he twisted to see you lying right by his side. A slight smile on your face as the shadows of the leaves swayed across your form, and he felt his eyebrows raise.

He wasn’t particularly surprised to see you, though he knew the same couldn’t be said for anyone who might have seen you here.

Leona was no fool. He knew that you and him were pretty much perfect opposites. That’s why everyone always looked so confused when you were walking along beside him. Chattering away with a happy expression or teasing him about something that had recently gone in a way he hadn’t planned for it to.

Leona was the hated second prince. It was his burden, and it was one he’d carried his entire life. It was nothing new.

He was bitter, unpleasant, and something that people preferred to avoid either out of fear or powerful levels of distaste.

And then there was you. Sweet and far more optimistic than he thought he could ever be. And perhaps more interestingly, you were no fool. You knew everything wasn’t flowers and dreams. How could you not when you lived in a place like Ramshackle dorm and didn’t even have a way to get home? 

You were seemingly trapped in a world that wasn’t your own, but you didn’t let that stop you. Instead, you just keep going with your head held high, a smile on your face, and a laugh on your lips as you shrugged it off. It was admirable.

But it also simply wasn’t him. And that was something he knew perfectly well.

That simple fact was also the exact reason your classmates would find it so odd to see you slumbering here by his side and not somewhere else with someone who was a better match for your sweet disposition.

Leona leaned forward, propping his head on his chin as he looked down at where you slept by his side. You’d come here to study in the botanical garden while he’d slumbered next to you. It was something you often did, though he couldn’t fathom why.

It was almost like you either wanted the company or didn’t want him to be lonely. Either of which was ridiculous, since he could think of plenty of people who’d want to be your study buddy, and he certainly didn't want company for his naps.

But then, Leona also didn’t mind your presence, though he had his own reasons for not running you off.

Leona tilted his head slightly, sighing at the sight of you, before pulling the book whose corner was jabbing into your side out of your hands and setting it off to the side where you’d quickly find it after waking up.

He idly scanned the area, half rolling his eyes as he confirmed that your feline companion was nowhere to be seen.

Grim had no doubt long since abandoned you in favor of avoiding anything even close to work.

As for you, Leona didn’t know if you were foolish or bold to have fallen asleep right next to him with no one around to protect you. But here you were curled up at his side, as if he weren’t someone who could easily harm you and were instead someone who would take care of you should you need it.

Which wasn’t something he could really deny to himself, but you didn’t need to know that.

After all, you’d seen him when he’d overblotted and you knew he wasn’t a good person. That should have been enough to send you scrambling to get away from him. But instead, here you were. 

And it was ridiculous.

It was true that it might have taken Jack a little while to realize that Leona wasn’t someone he needed to look up to, but Leona’s actions at the Spelldrive competition had cleared up Jack’s misunderstandings about him. 

Ruggie had always known what sort of person Leona was. It was one of the reasons he hung around. After all, there was safety in sticking close to people like Leona, so long as you remembered what they were truly like.

Both realized, for better or worse, that Leona was not a misunderstood individual who was secretly good. He was jaded, always beaten by others, and essentially worthless.

But then there was you, who was seemingly unbothered by any of this. 

And it wasn’t even like you didn’t believe Leona’s flaws existed; he could work with that. Instead, it was almost like you didn’t care. Like you didn’t really expect him to change outside of your occasional prodding for him to take better care of himself.

You saw his flaws—that much he knew from the times you had bickered with him over something—but you just seemed to accept them. The same way you just seemed to accept other people’s flaws as something that was just a part of them. Only ever really scolding others, or even Leona himself, when their actions either harmed themselves or others.

And that's how Leona knew you were simply too sweet for him. Too sweet for him to endure being near, but simultaneously too sweet for him to turn away.

It was just another show of how worthless he was at anything he tried to do and how little his own efforts mattered. He could try to push you away, but he couldn’t ever stop himself from clinging to you. 

As if you were one of the last sweet bits of his otherwise bitter life. A potent method of making everything else seem to fall away and be ignored so long as he just gets a fleeting taste of that kindness.

And Leona had tried to ignore you, but it was somehow impossible, even when he knew that being close to him could easily taint that sweetness of yours and turn it into a bitterness more like his.

But Leona also knew that you and him were all but opposites, and that was probably where the attraction of being near you lay.

Though that realization did nothing to lessen that attraction, no matter how frustrating it might be.

You shifted, letting out some sort of groggy sound and causing him to snort in amusement at your lethargic movements that had you shifting closer to him as if you craved his warmth. Coming closer to him instead of distancing yourself like you should.

It was ridiculous, watching you now, to think that you’d somehow bested him in the past. But you had. You’d beaten him as well as numerous others at their own game. Making them look like fools, as you seemed to change things simply by existing.

And maybe you did. After all, you weren’t of this world. And perhaps that was why it was so hard for him to detach himself from you.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you twisted to look up at the lion beastman, who didn’t even bother hiding his amusement as you blinked up at him before groggily sitting up, “What time is it?”

Leona glanced around, his ears twitching slightly as he listened to the distant sounds of students chattering as they left their club areas before he looked back your way, “Time to be getting back to the dorms. Club practice has already let out.”

You nodded, not looking terribly surprised and seemingly resigned to having lost the rest of your study period.

“Have you seen Grim?” You frowned lightly as you glanced around, and Leona snorted, leaning back and relaxing once more against the ground, lazily watching you as you collected your books.

“Nope,” At the single word you glanced over at him with raised eyebrows that almost made him want to take back all the previous thoughts he’d had about you being sweet.

But then that tiny bit of bite you had to you only ever seemed to emphasize your sweetness. It was what kept you interesting and at odds with the fools at RSA.

Because, unlike them, you managed to have a certain degree of cunning even with your sweetness. After all, he hadn’t been lying that day when he’d told Azul that you were far more dastardly than the scheming cephalo-punk was.

That was probably another reason why Leona had given up on pushing you away and had even come to expect your presence. He was a glutton for punishment, and with you being a villain that was sweet enough to even catch him unawares, you were certainly enough to keep him on his toes. 

His gaze held yours even as he felt yet another chip in the wall of his defenses fall away, despite the fact that he’d always maintained these walls around himself.

He may not want to let you in, but you really were too sweet for him, and it was reaching the point that Leona was becoming more and more willing to let himself give into his gluttony.

[etz-ashashiyot]

Chapter 4: Executed Jews

By Dara Horn, excerpted from People Love Dead Jews

ALA ZUSKIN PERELMAN AND I HAD BEEN IN TOUCH ONLINE before I finally met her in person, and I still cannot quite believe she exists. Years ago, I wrote a novel about Marc Chagall and the Yiddish-language artists whom he once knew in Russia, all of whom were eventually murdered by the Soviet regime. While researching the novel, I found myself sucked into the bizarre story of these people's exploitation and destruction: how the Soviet Union first welcomed these artists as exemplars of universal human ideals, then used them for its own purposes, and finally executed them. I named my main character after the executed Yiddish actor Benjamin Zuskin, a comic performer known for playing fools. After the book came out, I heard from Ala in an email written in halting English: "I am Benjamin Zuskin's daughter." That winter I was speaking at a literary conference in Israel, where Ala lived, and she and I arranged to meet. It was like meeting a character from a book.

My hosts had generously put me up with other writers in a beautiful stone house in Jerusalem. We were there during Hanukkah, the celebration of Jewish independence. On the first night of the holiday, I walked to Jerusalem's Old City and watched as people lit enormous Hanukkah torches at the Western Wall. I thought of my home in New Jersey, where in school growing up I sang fake English Hanukkah songs created by American music education companies at school Christmas concerts, with lyrics describing Hanukkah as being about "joy and peace and love." Joy and peace and love describe Hanukkah, a commemoration of an underdog military victory over a powerful empire, about as well as they describe the Fourth of July. I remembered challenging a chorus teacher about one such song, and being told that I was a poor sport for disliking joy and peace and love. (Imagine a "Christmas song" with lyrics celebrating Christmas, the holiday of freedom. Doesn't everyone like freedom? What pedant would reject such a song?) I sang those words in front of hundreds of people to satisfy my neighbors that my tradition was universal — meaning, just like theirs. The night before meeting Ala, I walked back to the house through the dense stone streets of the Old City's Jewish Quarter, where every home had a glass case by its door, displaying the holiday's oil lamps. It was strange to see those hundreds of glowing lights. They were like a shining announcement that this night of celebration was shared by all these strangers around me, that it was universal. The experience was so unfamiliar that I didn't know what to make of it.

The next morning, Ala knocked on the door of the stone house and sat down in its living room, with its view of the Old City. She was a small dark-haired woman whose perfect posture showed a firmness that belied her age. She looked at me and said in Hebrew, "I feel as if you knew my father, like you understood what he went through. How did you know?"

The answer to that question goes back several thousand years.

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The teenage boys who participated in competitive athletics in the gymnasium in Jerusalem 2,200 years ago had their circumcisions reversed, because otherwise they wouldn't have been allowed to play. In the Hellenistic empire that had conquered Judea, sports were sacred, the entry point to being a person who mattered, the ultimate height of cool — and sports, of course, were always played in the nude. As one can imagine, ancient genital surgery of this nature was excruciating and potentially fatal. But the boys did not want to miss out.

I learned this fun fact in seventh grade, from a Hebrew school teacher who was instructing me and my pubescent classmates about the Hanukkah story — about how Hellenistic tyranny gained a foothold in ancient Judea with the help of Jews who wanted to fit in. This teacher seemed overly jazzed to talk about penises with a bunch of adolescents, and I suspected he'd made the whole thing up. At home, I decided to fact-check. I pulled a dusty old book off my parents' shelf, Volume One of Heinrich Graetz's opus History of the Jews.

In nineteenth-century academic prose, Graetz explained how the leaders of Judea demonstrated their loyalty to the occupying Hellenistic empire by building a gymnasium and recruiting teenage athletes — only to discover that "in uncovering their bodies they could immediately be recognized as Judeans. But were they to take part in the Olympian games, and expose themselves to the mockery of Greek scoffers? Even this difficulty they evaded by undergoing a painful operation, so as to disguise the fact that they were Judeans." Their Zeus-worshipping overlords were not fooled. Within a few years, the regime outlawed not only circumcision but all of Jewish religious practice, and put to death anyone who didn't comply.

Sometime after that, the Maccabees showed up. That's the part of the story we usually hear.

Those ancient Jewish teenagers were on my mind that Hanukkah when Ala came to tell me about her father's terrifying life, because I sensed that something profound united them — something that doesn't match what we're usually taught about what bigotry looks or feels like. It doesn't involve "intolerance" or "persecution," at least not at first. Instead, it looks like the Jews themselves are choosing to reject their own traditions. It is a form of weaponized shame.

Two distinct patterns of antisemitism can be identified by the Jewish holidays that celebrate triumphs over them: Purim and Hanukkah. In the Purim version of antisemitism, exemplified by the Persian genocidal decrees in the biblical Book of Esther, the goal is openly stated and unambiguous: Kill all the Jews. In the Hanukkah version of antisemitism, whose appearances range from the Spanish Inquisition to the Soviet regime, the goal is still to eliminate Jewish civilization. But in the Hanukkah version, this goal could theoretically be accomplished simply by destroying Jewish civilization, while leaving the warm, de-Jewed bodies of its former practitioners intact.

For this reason, the Hanukkah version of antisemitism often employs Jews as its agents. It requires not dead Jews but cool Jews: those willing to give up whatever specific aspect of Jewish civilization is currently uncool. Of course, Judaism has always been uncool, going back to its origins as the planet's only monotheism, featuring a bossy and unsexy invisible God. Uncoolness is pretty much Judaism's brand, which is why cool people find it so threatening — and why Jews who are willing to become cool are absolutely necessary to Hanukkah antisemitism's success. These "converted" Jews are used to demonstrate the good intentions of the regime — which of course isn't antisemitic but merely requires that its Jews publicly flush thousands of years of Jewish civilization down the toilet in exchange for the worthy prize of not being treated like dirt, or not being murdered. For a few years. Maybe.

I wish I could tell the story of Ala's father concisely, compellingly, the way everyone prefers to hear about dead Jews. I regret to say that Benjamin Zuskin wasn't minding his own business and then randomly stuffed into a gas chamber, that his thirteen-year-old daughter did not sit in a closet writing an uplifting diary about the inherent goodness of humanity, that he did not leave behind sad-but-beautiful aphorisms pondering the absence of God while conveniently letting his fellow humans off the hook. He didn't even get crucified for his beliefs. Instead, he and his fellow Soviet Jewish artists — extraordinarily intelligent, creative, talented, and empathetic adults — were played for fools, falling into a slow-motion psychological horror story brimming with suspense and twisted self-blame. They were lured into a long game of appeasing and accommodating, giving up one inch after another of who they were in order to win that grand prize of being allowed to live.

Spoiler alert: they lost.

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I was in graduate school studying Yiddish literature, itself a rich vein of discussion about such impossible choices, when I became interested in Soviet Jewish artists like Ala's father. As I dug through library collections of early-twentieth-century Yiddish works, I came across a startling number of poetry books illustrated by Marc Chagall. I wondered if Chagall had known these Yiddish writers whose works he illustrated, and it turned out that he had. One of Chagall's first jobs as a young man was as an art teacher at a Jewish orphanage near Moscow, built for children orphaned by Russia's 1919-1920 civil war pogroms. This orphanage had a rather renowned faculty, populated by famous Yiddish writers who trained these traumatized children in the healing art of creativity.

It all sounded very lovely, until I noticed something else. That Chagall's art did not rely on a Jewish language — that it had, to use that insidious phrase, "universal appeal" — allowed him a chance to succeed as an artist in the West. The rest of the faculty, like Chagall, had also spent years in western Europe before the Russian revolution, but they chose to return to Russia because of the Soviet Union's policy of endorsing Yiddish as a "national Soviet language." In the 1920s and 30s, the USSR offered unprecedented material support to Yiddish culture, paying for Yiddish-language schools, theaters, publishing houses, and more, to the extent that there were Yiddish literary critics who were salaried by the Soviet government. This support led the major Yiddish novelist Dovid Bergelson to publish his landmark 1926 essay "Three Centers," about New York, Warsaw, and Moscow as centers of Yiddish-speaking culture, asking which city offered Yiddish writers the brightest prospects. His unequivocal answer was Moscow, a choice that brought him back to Russia the following year, where many other Jewish artists joined him.

But Soviet support for Jewish culture was part of a larger plan to brainwash and coerce national minorities into submitting to the Soviet regime — and for Jews, it came at a very specific price. From the beginning, the regime eliminated anything that celebrated Jewish "nationality" that didn't suit its needs. Jews were awesome, provided they weren't practicing Jewish religion, studying traditional Jewish texts, using Hebrew, or supporting Zionism. The Soviet Union thus pioneered a versatile gaslighting slogan, which it later spread through its client states in the developing world and which remains popular today: it was not antisemitic, merely anti-Zionist. (In the process of not being antisemitic and merely being anti-Zionist, the regime managed to persecute, imprison, torture, and murder thousands of Jews.) What's left of Jewish culture once you surgically remove religious practice, traditional texts, Hebrew, and Zionism? In the Soviet Empire, one answer was Yiddish, but Yiddish was also suspect for its supposedly backwards elements. Nearly 15 percent of its words came directly from biblical and rabbinic Hebrew, so Soviet Yiddish schools and publishers, under the guise of "simplifying" spelling, implemented a new and quite literally antisemitic spelling system that eliminated those words' Near Eastern roots. Another answer was "folklore" — music, visual art, theater, and other creative work reflecting Jewish life — but of course most of that cultural material was also deeply rooted in biblical and rabbinic sources, or reflected common religious practices like Jewish holidays and customs, so that was treacherous too.

No, what the regime required were Yiddish stories that showed how horrible traditional Jewish practice was, stories in which happy, enlightened Yiddish-speaking heroes rejected both religion and Zionism (which, aside from its modern political form, is also a fundamental feature of ancient Jewish texts and prayers traditionally recited at least three times daily). This de-Jewing process is clear from the repertoire of the government-sponsored Moscow State Yiddish Theater, which could only present or adapt Yiddish plays that denounced traditional Judaism as backward, bourgeois, corrupt, or even more explicitly — as in the many productions involving ghosts or graveyard scenes — as dead. As its actors would be, soon enough.

The Soviet Union's destruction of Jewish culture commenced, in a calculated move, with Jews positioned as the destroyers. It began with the Yevsektsiya, committees of Jewish Bolsheviks whose paid government jobs from 1918 through 1930 were to persecute, imprison, and occasionally murder Jews who participated in religious or Zionist institutions — categories that included everything from synagogues to sports clubs, all of which were shut down and their leaders either exiled or "purged." This went on, of course, until the regime purged the Yevsektsiya members themselves.

The pattern repeated in the 1940s. As sordid as the Yeveksiya chapter was, I found myself more intrigued by the undoing of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, a board of prominent Soviet Jewish artists and intellectuals established by Joseph Stalin in 1942 to drum up financial support from Jews overseas for the Soviet war effort. Two of the more prominent names on the JAC's roster of talent were Solomon Mikhoels, the director of the Moscow State Yiddish Theater, and Ala's father Benjamin Zuskin, the theater's leading actor. After promoting these people during the war, Stalin decided these loyal Soviet Jews were no longer useful, and charged them all with treason. He had decided that this committee he himself created was in fact a secret Zionist cabal, designed to bring down the Soviet state. Mikhoels was murdered first, in a 1948 hit staged to look like a traffic accident. Nearly all the others — Zuskin and twelve more Jewish luminaries, including the novelist Dovid Bergelson, who had proclaimed Moscow as the center of the Yiddish future — were executed by firing squad on August 1952.

Just as the regime accused these Jewish artists and intellectuals of being too "nationalist" (read: Jewish), today's long hindsight makes it strangely tempting to read this history and accuse them of not being "nationalist" enough — that is, of being so foolishly committed to the Soviet regime that they were unable to see the writing on the wall. Many works on this subject have said as much. In Stalin's Secret Pogrom, the indispensable English translation of transcripts from the JAC "trial," Russia scholar Joshua Rubenstein concludes his lengthy introduction with the following:

As for the defendants at the trial, it is not clear what they believed about the system they each served. Their lives darkly embodied the tragedy of Soviet Jewry. A combination of revolutionary commitment and naive idealism had tied them to a system they could not renounce. Whatever doubts or misgivings they had, they kept to themselves, and served the Kremlin with the required enthusiasm. They were not dissidents. They were Jewish martyrs. They were also Soviet patriots. Stalin repaid their loyalty by destroying them.

This is completely true, and also completely unfair. The tragedy — even the term seems unjust, with its implied blaming of the victim — was not that these Soviet Jews sold their souls to the devil, though many clearly did. The tragedy was that integrity was never an option in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ala was almost thirteen years old when her father was arrested and until that moment she was immersed in the Soviet Yiddish artistic scene. Her mother was also an actor in the Moscow State Yiddish Theater; her family lived in the same building as the murdered theater director Solomon Mikhoels, and moved in the same circles as other Jewish actors and writers. After seeing her parents perform countless times, Ala had a front-row seat to the destruction of their world. She attended Mikhoel's state funeral, heard about the arrest of the brilliant Yiddish author Der Nister from an actor friend who witnessed it from her apartment across the hall, and was present when secret police ransacked her home in conjunction with her father's arrest. In her biography, The Travels of Benjamin Zuskin, she provides for her readers what she gave me that morning in Jerusalem: an emotional recounting, with the benefit of hindsight, of what it was really like to live through the Soviet Jewish nightmare.

It's as close as we can get, anyway. Her father Benjamin Zuskin's own thoughts on the topic are available only from state interrogations extracted under unknown tortures. (One typical interrogation document from his three and a half years in the notorious Lubyanka Prison announces that the day's interrogation lasted four hours, but the transcript is only half a page long — leaving to the imagination how the interrogator and interrogatee may have spent their time together. Suffice it to say that another JAC detainee didn't make it to trial alive.) His years in prison began when he was arrested in December of 1948 in a Moscow hospital room, where he was being treated for chronic insomnia brought on by the murder of his boss and career-long acting partner, Mikhoels; the secret police strapped him to a gurney and carted him to prison in his hospital gown while he was still sedated.

But in order to truly appreciate the loss here, one needs to know what was lost — to return to the world of the great Yiddish writer Sholem Aleichem, the author of Benjamin Zuskin's first role on the Yiddish stage, in a play fittingly titled It's a Lie!

Benjamin Zuskin's path to the Yiddish theater and later to the Soviet firing squad began in a shtetl comparable to those immortalized in Sholem Aleichem's work. Zuskin, a child from a traditional family who was exposed to theater only through traveling Yiddish troupes and clowning relatives, experienced that world's destruction: his native Lithuanian shtetl, Ponievezh, was among the many Jewish towns forcibly evacuated during the First World War, catapulting him and hundreds of thousands of other Jewish refugees into modernity. He landed in Penza, a city with professional Russian theater and Yiddish amateur troupes. In 1920, the Moscow State Yiddish Theater opened, and by 1921, Zuskin was starring alongside Mikhoels, the theater's leading light.

In the one acting class I have ever attended, I learned only one thing: acting isn't about pretending to be someone you aren't, but rather about emotional communication. Zuskin, who not only starred in most productions but also taught in the theater's acting school, embodied the concept. His very first audition was a one-man sketch he created, consisting of nothing more than a bumbling old tailor threading a needle — without words, costumes, or props. It became so popular that he performed it to entranced crowds for years. This physical artistry animated his every role. As one critic wrote, "Even the slightest breeze and he is already air-bound."

Zuskin specialized in playing figures like the Fool in King Lear — as his daughter puts it in her book, characters who "are supposed to make you laugh, but they have an additional dimension, and they arouse poignant reflections about the cruelty of the world." Discussing his favorite roles, Zuskin once explained that "my heart is captivated particularly by the image of the person who is derided and humiliated, but who loves life, even though he encounters obstacles placed before him through no fault of his own."

The first half of Ala's book seems to recount only triumphs. The theater's repertoire in its early years was largely adopted from classic Yiddish writers like Sholem Aleichem, I. L. Peretz, and Mendele Moykher Seforim. The book's title is drawn from Zuskin's most famous role: Senderl, the Sancho Panza figure in Mendele's Don Quixote-inspired work, Travels of Benjamin the Third, about a pair of shtetl idiots who set out for the Land of Israel and wind up walking around the block. These productions were artistically inventive, brilliantly acted, and played to packed houses both at home and on tour. Travels of Benjamin the Third, in a 1928 review typical of the play's reception, was lauded by the New York Times as "one of the most originally conceived and beautifully executed evenings in the modern theater."

One of the theater's landmark productions, I. L. Peretz's surrealist masterpiece At Night in the Old Marketplace, was first performed in 1925. The play, set in a graveyard, is a kind of carnival for the graveyard's gathered ghosts. Those who come back from the dead are misfits like drunks and prostitutes, and also specific figures from shtetl life - yeshiva idlers, synagogue beadles, and the like. Leading them all is a badkhn, or wedding jester — divided in this production into two mirror-characters played by Mikhoels and Zuskin — whose repeated chorus among the living corpses is "The dead will rise!" "Within this play there was something hidden, something with an ungraspable depth," Ala writes, and then relates how after a performance in Vienna, one theatergoer came backstage to tell the director that "the play had shaken him as something that went beyond all imagination." The theatergoer was Sigmund Freud.

As Ala traces the theater's trajectory toward doom, it becomes obvious why this performance so affected Freud. The production was a zombie story about the horrifying possibility of something supposedly dead (here, Jewish civilization) coming back to life. The play was written a generation earlier as a Romantic work, but in the Moscow production, it became a means of denigrating traditional Jewish life without mourning it. That fantasy of a culture's death as something compelling and even desirable is not merely reminiscent of Freud's death drive, but also reveals the self-destructive bargain implicit in the entire Soviet-sponsored Jewish enterprise. In her book, Ala beautifully captures this tension as she explains the badkhn's role: "He sends a double message: he denies the very existence of the vanishing shadow world, and simultaneously he mocks it, as if it really does exist."

This double message was at the heart of Benjamin Zuskin's work as a comic Soviet Yiddish actor, a position that required him to mock the traditional Jewish life he came from while also pretending that his art could exist without it. "The chance to make fun of the shtetl which has become a thing of the past charmed me," he claimed early on, but later, according to his daughter, he began to privately express misgivings. The theater's decision to stage King Lear as a way of elevating itself disturbed him, suggesting as it did that the Yiddish repertoire was inferior. His own integrity came from his deep devotion to yiddishkayt, a sense of essential and enduring Jewishness, no matter how stripped-down that identity had become. "With the sharp sense of belonging to everything Jewish, he was tormented by the theater forsaking its expression of this belonging," his daughter writes. Even so, "no, he could not allow himself to oppose the Soviet regime even in his thoughts, the regime that gave him his own theater, but 'the heart and the wit do not meet.'"

In Ala's memory, her father differed from his director, partner, and occasional rival, Mikhoels, in his complete disinterest in politics. Mikhoels was a public figure as well as performer, and his leadership of the Jewish Antifascist Committee, while no more voluntary than any public act in a totalitarian state, was a role he played with gusto, traveling to America in 1943 and speaking to thousands of American Jews to raise money for the Red Army in their battle against the Nazis. Zuskin, on the other hand, was on the JAC roster, but seems to have continued playing the fool. According to both his daughter and his trial testimony, his role in the JAC was almost identical to his role on a Moscow municipal council, limited to playing chess in the back of the room during meetings.

In Jerusalem, Ala told me that her father was "a pure soul." "He had no interest in politics, only in his art," she said, describing his acting style as both classic and contemporary, praised by critics for its timeless qualities that are still evident today in his film work. But his talent was the most nuanced and sophisticated thing about him. Offstage, he was, as she put it in Hebrew, a "tam" — a biblical term sometimes translated as fool or simpleton, but which really means an innocent. (It is the first adjective used to describe the title character in the Book of Job.) It is true that in trial transcripts, Zuskin comes out looking better than many of his co-defendants by playing dumb instead of pointing fingers. But was this ignorance, or a wise acceptance of the futility of trying to save his skin? As King Lear's Fool put it, "They'll have me whipp'd for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipp'd for holding my peace." Reflecting on her father's role as a fool named Pinia in a popular film, Ala writes in her book, "When I imagine the moment when my father heard his death sentence, I see Pinia in close-up . . . his shoulders slumped, despair in his appearance. I hear the tone that cannot be imitated in his last line in the film — and perhaps also the last line in his life? — 'I don't understand anything.'"

Yet it is clear that Zuskin deeply understood how impossible his situation was. In one of the book's more disturbing moments, Ala describes him rehearsing for one of his landmark roles, that of the comic actor Hotsmakh in Sholem Aleichem's Wandering Stars, a work whose subject is the Yiddish theater. He had played the role before, but this production was going up in the wake of Mikhoel's murder. Zuskin was already among the hunted, and he knew it. As Ala writes:

One morning — already after the murder of Mikhoels — I saw my father pacing the room and memorizing the words of Hotsmakh's role. Suddenly, in a gesture revealing a hopeless anguish, Father actually threw himself at me, hugged me, pressed me to his heart, and together with me, continued to pace the room and to memorize the words of the role. That evening I saw the performance . . . "The doctors say that I need rest, air, and the sea . . . For what . . . without the theater?" [Hotsmakh asks], he winds the scarf around his neck — as though it were a noose. For my father, I think those words of Hotsmakh were like the motif of the role and — I think — of his own life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Describing the charges levied against Zuskin and his peers is a degrading exercise, for doing so makes it seem as though these charges are worth considering. They are not. It is at this point that Hanukkah antisemitism transformed, as it inevitably does, into Purim antisemitism. Here Ala offers what hundreds of pages of state archives can't, describing the impending horror of the noose around one's neck.

Her father stopped sleeping, began receiving anonymous threats, and saw that he was being watched. No conversation was safe. When a visitor from Poland waited near his apartment building to give him news of his older daughter Tamara (who was then living in Warsaw), Zuskin instructed the man to walk behind him while speaking to him and then to switch directions, so as to avoid notice. When the man asked Zuskin what he wanted to tell his daughter, Zuskin "approached the guest so closely that there was no space between them, and whispered in Yiddish, 'Tell her that the ground is burning beneath my feet.'" It is true that no one can know what Zuskin or any of the other defendants really believed about the Soviet system they served. It is also true — and far more devastating — that their beliefs were utterly irrelevant.

Ala and her mother were exiled to Kazakhstan after her father's arrest, and learned of his execution only when they were allowed to return to Moscow in 1955. By then, he had already been dead for three years.

In Jerusalem that morning, Ala told me, in a sudden private moment of anger and candor, that the Soviet Union's treatment of the Jews was worse than Nazi Germany's. I tried to argue, but she shut me up. Obviously the Nazi atrocities against Jews were incomparable, a fact Ala later acknowledged in a calmer mood. But over four generations, the Soviet regime forced Jews to participate in and internalize their own humiliation - and in that way, Ala suggested, they destroyed far more souls. And they never, ever, paid for it.

"They never had a Nuremberg," Ala told me that day, with a quiet fury. "They never acknowledged the evil of what they did. The Nazis were open about what they were doing, but the Soviets pretended. They lured the Jews in, they baited them with support and recognition, they used them, they tricked them, and then they killed them. It was a trap. And no one knows about it, even now. People know about the Holocaust, but not this. Even here in Israel, people don't know. How did you know?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening I went out to the Old City again, to watch the torches being lit at the Western Wall for the second night of Hanukkah. I walked once more through the Jewish Quarter, where the oil lamps, now each bearing one additional flame, were displayed outside every home, following the tradition to publicize the Hanukkah miracle — not merely the legendary long-lasting oil, but the miracle of military and spiritual victory over a coercive empire, the freedom to be uncool, the freedom not to pretend. Somewhere nearby, deep underground, lay the ruins of the gymnasium where de-circumcised Jewish boys once performed naked before approving crowds, stripped of their integrity and left with their private pain. I thought of Benjamin Zuskin performing as the dead wedding jester, proclaiming, "The dead will rise!" and then performing again in a "superior" play, as King Lear's Fool. I thought of the ground burning beneath his feet. I thought of his daughter, Ala, now an old woman, walking through Jerusalem.

I am not a sentimental person. As I returned to the stone house that night, along the streets lit by oil lamps, I was surprised to find myself crying.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Sharing His Earphones

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

It would be a long bus ride before your class arrived at their destination. You already picked out the perfect window seat for yourself while Bakugou slipped into the seat beside you. Your classmates shuffled around the place in the background.

"Got something for you," Bakugou said.

"Huh? What is it?"

Bakugou took out some corded earphones connected to his phone. He put one earbud in your ear and the other in his.

"Listen to this," Bakugou said, bumping shoulders with you. One of Bakugou's favorite songs started playing.

Your eyes lit up. "I know this one! Of course you'd like a song like this. Do you know the lyrics?"

His head snapped to yours. "I'm not singing. There's fucking people around."

You headbutted him very lightly. "We're at the back of the bus, just sing a little! I wanna hear you rap."

Bakugou quickly surveyed their surroundings to make sure all other students were already in their seat and not listening in before he said this next part.

"Dammit, you've already heard me rap before!"

"I want to hear it a thousand times more," you said, smiling.

Bakugou looked down at you, incredulously. The rap lyrics kicked in and Bakugou started begrudgingly rapping underneath his breath. You could tell he was quickly getting into it, like he always did when you two were alone. You bopped your head to the music as Bakugou's spiteful eyes didn't leave yours.

The rap part ended along with his brief performance. "There? Happy?"

"Louder! Louder!" You waved your arms. "Encore!"

"Shhhhh! Shut up!" Bakugou brought a finger to your lips. "Don't tell a fucking soul or I will murder everyone on this bus except for us."

"Encore!"

"NO!"

Another rap verse came on. This time, you started rapping. But your raps were much more playful than his. You still bopped your head to the music and nudged him with the beat. Bakugou barely reacted to your playful nudges even as the bus started moving, unwilling to entertain your silly antics. But he never tore his eyes away.

Your rap verse ended and you did a little "Ta-da!" pose.

Bakugou looked you up and down. "You done? Forever?"

You pretended to look hurt. "Was it that bad?"

"No. I just wanna listen to these songs with you in peace."

"If you wanted peace, you would've stopped being friends with me a long time ago."

You two held each other's gaze, your smiles versus his frown. You wouldn't fall for Bakugou's tsundere antics. Finally, he sighed and bumped his head against yours.

"Yeah, I know," Bakugou said, softly.

For the rest of the bus ride, you listened to all the songs on Bakugou's phone. A lot of love songs reminded you of him. Some of the songs described your relationship quite well, including your underlying romantic feelings for the boy. What's weirder, a suspicious number of songs happened to describe your appearance in particular, and quite favorably too. When you pointed them out, Bakugou skipped ahead to the next song, which would sometimes have the exact same issue.

"It's like the song is describing me!" you said.

"You'll never hear it again," Bakugou said, frantically skipping yet another song.

"...But I liked that song," you said, poking your fingers together.

Bakugou stared at you. You stared back.

"Fine." Bakugou pulled out his phone to repeat the last song and you got giddy hearing the lyrics describe your appearance again.

"This song is soooo me," you said, dancing in your bus seat. "Do you listen to this all the time?"

"Sometimes..." Bakugou said, not meeting your eyes. "...You got any songs that describe me?"

"Maybe a few that describe some hotheaded individuals, sure."

His head sharply turned to yours. "So you only got ones describing my flaws?!"

"You wanted something else?"

Your innocent expression and question caught him off-guard.

"I just wanna see what songs remind you of me," Bakugou said, for only you to hear.

Bakugou's current song ended and he paused the next one before it could play. You took his earphones and connected it to your phone instead, playing songs from your own playlist.

"Let me show you," you said.

Then, one of your favorite love songs started playing.

(The last line might seem more or less romantic depending on what your favorite love songs are... XP)

[babybatss-blog]

EUPHORIA

Link (TOTK) x f!reader, 700 words

Summary: Your dancing at the stable drives Link to a strange realisation.

Cw: written from 3rd persons pov, therefore y/n is used lots. Implied mental health issues in reader.

A picture-perfect serenity, with smoke bellowing out the nose of a cartoonish horse shaped tent, adorned with colourful reds and blues and purples of cloth flowing throughout where Y/n and Link are tonight. This scenic location appears to be the pure definition of stillness, the only sound being the rushing water in a river and the crickets chirping in the grass.

That is until you get closer, and suddenly the true reality unveils itself.

A cacophony of sounds is heard, such as guitar, singing and laughter, displaying happiness between the party of unlikely friends. At New Serene Stable the full moon is high as the many guests gather around singing folk songs passed down through generations of Hyrule, some even Link knows from his 100 years in the past. Link sit’s next to y/n at the campfire, listening to her angelic singing in a choir with the others.

“The seas are calm and blue, so welcoming anew.

The sky a piece of pie, soft and warm tonight.

The captain soars off in his boat its as if he can fly!”

This song invokes a weak memory within Link, a vision of the past where his father sang the very song to him in his tiny bed. It was made of straw, but he slept peacefully after hearing the soothing voice. Y/n on the other hand, remembers it in a very different way. Her classmates would go to the beach and scream the song at the top of their lungs to the boats passing by, giggling and doing cartwheels on the scorching sand. She sometimes wished that she could be a sailor herself, escaping towards a new adventure across the hypnotising ocean.

“The chef cooks up a storm, its tasty in this form.

Its lettuce tastes like water and without it you’re forlorn!”

One old man claps to the beat, swaying with a wide smile. Y/n immediately joins in with the others, an enthusiastic clap coming from them. Link subtly turns towards Y/n, noticing the twinkle in her eyes due to the campfire and pure joy collectively. A thought crosses his mind on how he wishes to see them in this state a million times again, but he pushes it away due to the pit quickly forming in his stomach.

Y/n leans towards Link whispering in his ear intimately. “You don’t know the words?” She asks, seeing a nervous smile appear on his face. “I know the words. I just, don’t like to sing.” He admits. She giggles at his embarrassment, half shocked and half endeared by this confession. They are so different, but also so intertwined in each other. Suddenly, she stands up along with a couple of little kids, who hold hands around the campfire. Y/n turns over her shoulder to look at Link, a grin on her face. “Join us?” He fervently shakes his head in response, seemingly repulsed by the idea. Y/n merely laughs, beginning to spin with the kids to the words resounding in the stable.

“Oh my Hylia said to me, this is where your meant to be.

A captain, chef, and a happy team all like a family!”

Y/n soon feels dizzy, hand in hand with ecstatic children that run around like monkeys. Despite this, her laughter is resounding, a brown skirt flowing in her movements. Truthfully, no matter how happy she is she wishes that Link would join her. Her eyes lock with his momentarily as she stands opposite from him, and some strange moment of connection ensues. She sees him as the nervous child too scared to make a move, and he sees her as the woman hiding away a deep seeding pain within. But they also see a beauty, one that they would never see in themselves but should as it shows their true selves.

And Link wonders… Why is this woman so perfect? Her hair flowing, her cheeks blushed and teeth shining are the definition of unadulterated joy, something he craves forever more.

Is this… Love?

[hirayaaraw]

Still In This Holy Ground

Tags: Friends to lovers to exes to lovers; idol!Seungcheol x reader

Note: Seungcheol is the ex that makes you wonder if you will love and be loved again in the same way when you were with him.

Songs to listen:

Holy Ground - Taylor Swift BBC Live Lounge

Death by Thousand Cuts - Taylor Swift

His Car Isn't Yours - WENDY

They say that healing journey does not have a definite timeline. One day after you and Seungcheol broke up, the mug he used still on your dining table. You didn't know that would be the last coffee you will make for him. 

One week after the break up, you went home happily with your favorite chinese take out only to cry on the floor of your apartment. You realized that you will be spending all weekends alone. Seungcheol will not be joining you anymore to watch the latest episode of transit love. You took the chinese take out and gave it to the guard. You swear to never buying from that chinese restaurant even if they have the best orange chicken. 

One month after the break up, your friends are urging you to go out and have fun. You never showed them that you are suffering but they know you still cry yourself to sleep. You cry even more when you realize his smell on your pillowcase already faded. They say it takes 21 days to form a habit but you think you will never be used to waking up without his good morning message. 

"There are plenty of men out there."

You just nod and smile whenever they say it. Plenty of men but they are not Seungcheol. No one bring warmth just like him. He holds your hand when you look anxious or nervous. He never forgets to buy your favorite tea when you are running low and too busy to buy grocery. Despite being busy, he makes sure to meet you every weekend. If he comes to your apartment late and you are already sleeping, he will sleep besides you and waits for you to wake up before leaving.

 Dating Seungcheol is the best decision you made. Friends and family doubted your relationship due to his profession. Your younger sister's boyfriend is always present at family function. This was not an issue for you but relatives make rumors about his absence. How he might be ashamed of you or he might be dating someone industry and you are just a side piece. You will just smile at them and brush away the rumors. It is not because his schedule can't cater the family events. You just don't want him  to enter the chaos. It is already enough that he listens to your laments.

You met him during college. You sat in the front row while he sat near the door at the back. Seungcheol has a perfect attendance for the whole semester despite having music shows and practice. However, on the next semester their world tour started, he misses some class. When he attends the class, Seungcheol is obviously sleepy. 

You never interacted with him nor made a fuss about having an idol classmate. One day, Seungcheol approached you if he can copy your notes for the two lectures he missed. You didn't hesitate and gave your notebook so he can take picture of it. However, Seungcheol sheepishly asked if he can take it to library to photocopy. He rambled that he does not like his notes on his phone. Seungcheol claimed that he likes it hard copy. You just nodded at him and told him to give it back within the day. Seungcheol gave you his first of his thousands smile to you and returned your notebook later that day with a cup of coffee. 

"Thanks for the notes." He said handing your notebook and a cup of iced americano. "Coffee for you."

"Thanks for giving back my notebook." You said and gave him a small smile. You don't drink the coffee but you take it as courtesy. Something about his eyes and the way he smiles that make saying no to him hard. 

You thought that would be the first and last interaction but he added you on facebook. Since then Seungcheol will ask you about notes, announcements, or anything he missed when he is out and being an idol. Facebook messages turn into Seungcheol tagging along with you when you rot yourself in the library. One time, he answered his phone beside you and told someone that he is in library with a friend.

"Since when did we become a friend?" You raised your eyebrow that made him flustered. 

"Since when you lend your notes, Ma'am." He smiled and leaned on the table. 

"You just want my notes. I figured it out." You rolled your eyes to tease him.

"And the owner of the notes." Seungcheol said that made you hold your breath. You smiled and went back to reading your notes. If you did not look away, you are sure that you will be taken away by this man.

Facebook messaged became phonecalls. It started when you missed 3 school days in a row. You got admitted to a hospital for viral infection and bronchitis. A simple cough and sore throat became worse over the weekend. Your mom travelled to the city when you cried over the phone and took you to the hospital. 

It was on the 3rd day when your phone rang. You picked up your phone without looking on it. 

"Where are you? Are you okay?" You need to look at your phone just to make sure it is Seungcheol. His voice is full of worry. 

"Hey. I'm in the hospital. You can ask Christine for her note--"

"Which hospital?" He did not let you finish your sentence. His voice have a sense of urgency. You blurted out the name of the hospital. He said something you did not understand before saying bye.

30 minutes later someone is knocking in your hospital room then you are now introducing Seungcheol to your mom. He brought lecture notes and share to you then peeled oranges for you. Seungcheol visits you everyday until you were discharged. 

Whenever he is near, it feels hard for you to breathe. You thought this was an aftereffect of your hospitalization. But you realized that it only happens whenever Seungcheol is near. Everytime Seungcheol is around, he makes your heart beats faster. You thought this only happens in 90s romcom movies. You hate how Seungcheol is now a focal focus of your everyday life. You wait for his messages and anticipated his arrival at university. 

It is a futile move to hope for something so throughout college you love him silently. Everyday you remind yourself that you are just a college girl Seungcheol made friends with because he needs someone in university. You remind yourself that you are just a fraction of his grand life. This is how you broke your own heart for thw first time while Seungcheol is slowly trying to make you feel how his whole world is revolving around you.

You enjoyed every moment with him because you knew that once graduation came, it will be a goodbye. On the graduation day, you congratulated him. In return, he hugged you tight. You wanted to cry as you melt in his arms. 

"Thank you for letting me annoy you for the past 4 years." You laughed in his ears.

"No worries, Seungcheol. Anytime." You said before pulling away and saying bye. You started walking away but you stopped and turned around. Seungcheol still standing and watching you. It's now or never. Just like at the ending of a 90s romcom, you run back towards him. 

Everything is just a background noise and time slowed down for you and him. You have nothing to lose. Seungcheol is smiling widely at you. This is the first time you did not act guarded. When you are standing in front of him, you exhaled loudly.

"Choi Seungcheol" Seungcheol frowned and pouted. He told you before that he hates how people call him in his full name. You smiled at his reaction. "We might never meet again. I just need to let this out or I will be miserable for keeping this secret for the longest time.  So here goes nothing. I like you."

Seungcheol eyes widened when you said those words. You laughed at his reaction. You did not wait for his response and run away towards the parking lot where your parents are waiting for you.

Your dad started driving to the restaurant he reserved to celebrate your graduation when your phone rang. It was Seungcheol. You bit your lips and shake your head before answering his call. 

"Where are you? I'm at the parking lot. Your dad still drives a red hyundai, right?"

"We already left, Seungcheol." You heard him sigh. 

"You can't just say you like me and leave like that."

"I just did." You pointed out that made him sigh again. You can see him sulking. "I need to hang up. See you when I see you."

Which you know it will be hard.

"Which restaurant are you going?" You humor him by telling the name of the place. There is no way he will go to your graduation dinner. He has an appearance to a local radio show in the evening. He ended the call which made you frown. You keep your phone in your bag as you enter the restaurant. 

You were enjoying the dinner when a familiar face entered. To your horror, it was Seungcheol waving at you. You looked around the restaurant before standing and dragging him in the corner.

"Who says we will never meet again?" Seungcheol said grinning at you. He held your hand that made you look around and you pull your hand away. Afraid someone might see you and him.

"What are you doing?"

"I should have said this instead of keeping this for the longest time." He sighed looking at your hand then to you. "I am running late to my appointment but I need to tell you this. I like you. No. I love you for the longest time. I look forward going to classes because of you. You gave me another reason to push through."

You found yourself clutching to your necklace. You did not expect hearing those words from him. Love is a big word and he said it so naturally for you. You saw someone entered the restaurant and waved at Seungcheol. He needs to go.

Later that night, Seungcheol called you to talk about the two of you. Once his schedule is cleared, he visited you at your hometown. That's how you went from having him as your classmate, your friend, to your boyfriend.

Falling in love is easy. Staying in love is hard. Breaking up is an easy way out. Adulting made the difference between your world and his world clearer. You have bills to pay. The eldest daughter who is slowly taking the breadwinner role as your parents heading to retirement. Pressuring you to do all things so your whole family climb the social ladder. You are in your mid 20s but your fire is already dying.

Seungcheol is nothing short of a great boyfriend. But life made it hard for you to love. You decided to take further studies for greater chances of promotion and taking side job. Seventeen started to pursue the western side of the world. You see him on the tv more than you see him in person.

It didn't take more time for you see him as stranger. It is like when you were back in your college days before he asks for your notes. He is back into being an idol you casually know. You can't see where the relationship is going anymore. You started feeling alone in life. To you, it is obvious where this is heading. 

They said never decide when you are tired, hungry, or sleep deprived because you are prone to make bad deicison. A bad day at work, a screaming session with you mom, and rescheduled date. You can only endure so much. Seungcheol found you crying on your sofa. He went immediately to you after the extended practice.

You are tired of everyone and everything. You are crumbling gradually. No one can fix you. The mess that you have and you made. Not even Seungcheol's hug can mend you. You held his hand tightly as you cry. You don't know how to tell this to him. This is harder than confessing your love for him.

"Cheol, I think...we should stop." You wipe your tears. Seungcheol nodded as if he is expecting this and trying to understand you.

"I've been a bad boyfriend these past few months." You shook your head in protest. You wanted to say something but all you can do is cry. He took you in his arms and let you rest on his chest. "I'm sorry for hurting you...for not being with you."

He calmed you down and tucked you to your bed. Seungcheol hummed a song while watching you fall asleep. You woke up the next day with his mug on your bed side table. No text or whatsoever. He is scared to hurt you further. And that is how 4 years of friendship and 3 years of relationship went down the drain. 

Three months after the break up, you unfriended him on facebook, unfollowed him on instagram, and put Seventeen and his name on muted words on twitter. But you still can't escape him. His face is on billboards and television program. It is like the universe telling you what you lost.

Your life got better. You were promoted. You made your parents happy but your heart? It never got better. You are just functioning and not living.

Fourth month without Seungcheol in your life, you started to put away his things and anything that reminds you of him. You smiled when you see a polaroid of him. You are still aching but you are thankful that a relationship with him happened. One of the best years of your life.

 

Fifth month after the break up, your lease contract ended. You decided to move out and search for an apartment nearer to your work. Just when you thought it did not hurt anymore, you cried while you are packing. It is like finally saying goodbye to the last piece that reminds you of him. This one bed room apartment witnessed all the sleepover, date nights, and lazy mornings. You will never dance in the middle of this tiny apartment with him. It's the end of an era.

Sixth month since you decided to end it with Seungcheol, you agreed to go on a blind date set up by your friend. John is a nice guy. He always reply. He shows up on time. But something felt amiss. You don't want to be unfair to him. On the third date, you decided to tell that you want him as friend and nothing more. That night you went to bed wondering if you will fall in love again the way you fell for Seungcheol. 

It was the end of the month. The rain is pouring hard. You run towards your new apartment drench in the rain. Ten steps away from your door when you saw someone at your front door. You thought you are a hallucinating.

"What the hell?" You said it a bit too loud. Seungcheol turned his head to you. You walked faster and unlocked your door to let him in.

"Your mom gave me your address." He said following you inside. Of course, your mom gave it to him. You went to your bathroom to get some towels for the both of you. 

"Are you here for your things?" You gave the towel to him then went to the kitchen to prepare coffee for him. You observe him from your periphery. He bulked up a bit. His wet black shirt is hugging his body. His hair a bit longer and black. It suits him. He took the break up better you thought. "I already pack it a month ago. I just need to find where I put the box."

Seungcheol is just looking at you. When you serve the coffee, you went to your room without looking at him. Meeting your worst enemy is better than seeing the ex you yearn for. You can't believe Seungcheol is in your new apartment. It is like your past and present colliding. The present that doesn't have him in it. You don't want to look affectes but when you found the box at the bottom of your cabinet. You smiled painfully. The last piece that reminds him of you. 

You went out of your room. Seungcheol is sitting at your kitchen counter. His back facing. You wanted to hug him but you know he is not yours anymore. You watch him drink the coffee you made. You are not sure if you still got the taste he wanted right. Few days ago, you bought coffee beans on your grocery run. When you are sorting the items, you laugh upon seeing the coffee beans because you only buy it because Seungcheol like coffee. 

You approach him and place the box at the kitchen counter. 

"Let me know if there is something missing. I will try to find it." You said. Still not looking at him. Afraid that you might fell apart. Months of healing and trying to forget him all went down the drain. You already know that you will be crying your sleep once he leave.

When you heard Seungcheol open the box, you steal glances of him. You saw how he carefully touch the fabric of his sweater you always wear. There is a small smile forming on his lips. His signature dimple is showing. 

"You got a nice apartment. It's great that you find a walking distance place near your work."  Seungcheol knew your struggle travelling to your work specially when you work over time. 

"The timing aligned. I was planning to renew the contract on my previous place but this apartment popped up on the listing." You looked straight at his eyes briefly. He nodded while listening to you. Seungcheol is still attentive as ever. It has been months since you have someone to listen to you and look at you like you are the only person in the room.

You smiled in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. You don't know how long he will be around. He doesn't have any reason to stay longer. In the end, you hurted both of you. But you needed that break up to breathe from everything. 

"Congratulations for the successful tour and new album." Despite putting every word on mute, unfollowing the boys, and unfriending him, news about them still reach you. Every news about them breaking a record makes your heart swell in pride. You used to pre-order every album release and stream their songs while working. You were Seungcheol's number 1 fan and believer. You were and will always be his fan. 

"Thank you." Seungcheol smiled to you. Your heart ached. The whole room is filled with unspoken words. "I heard from your mom you got promoted. Congratulations! I told you...you will get the promotion."

"Yeah...I guess you are right." You chuckled with your eyes getting visibly shining in tears. You got what you wanted but at what cost.  You bit your lips thinking that will stop the tears from falling. Seungcheol saw the first tear fell. "I'm sorry."

That's all you said and turned around but Seungcheol did what he wanted to do since the first time he saw you again. He pulled you into his arms where you belong.

"Last time I saw you, you were crying." Seungcheol said each words with a shaky voice. "And now you are still crying. Did I hurt you that much? I'm sorry."

You shook your head. Seungcheol caress your hair and you grip on his clothes like it is your lifeline. "Seungcheol, I am sorry. I hurted you. I got lost. I can't understand myself. I feel like drowning and the only way out I know is to break away from you."

"I understand." Seungcheol said that made you pull away and look at him. He wiped your tears.

"How can you be so kind? I hurted you. Be angry at me. I broke up with you in a snap."

"I can't." Seungcheol shook his head. Tears falling on his face. "I am angry at myself because I let you take everything and lose yourself. I  am angry that I made you feel alone in this relationship. I am angry that I made life get in between us."

"I don't want this anymore." You took his hand and rest your head on his chest. The fort you held on these past few months came crumbling down. "Six months. Six months of hell, Cheol. I don't want any of this. I don't want to go on this life without you."

"You have no idea how much I miss you and want you back. I just don't know if you still want me." 

"I still want you."

"Good to hear that because I am not here to get my things back." You raised your eyebrows while he smirk at you. "I'm here to take you back."

"You are such a sly man." 

You both laughed. Eyes still red because of crying but lips are smiling wide. Some say that sometimes people break up or part ways to find themselves and eventually find their way back to each other. An ample amount of time to heal and be better person for each other. Once you found each other again, never let go. Not everyone will be given a second chance.

[cutieebabyy]

i miss you, i’m sorry - k.b

summary: you and katsuki broke up due to his upcoming career as a hero. you’ve just released your debut album and got invited to a well-known event to sing and discuss the new album. little do you know, your classmates would be there with your one and only ex-boyfriend.

pairings: aged up!katsuki x singer!reader (they’re in like their last year of hs.)

“so, y/n, about your upcoming album, we’ve just been dying to ask, but is this inspired by a certain someone?” i narrow my eyes at the question the interviewer asks. i was expecting this, but i still can’t hide the shock on my face. what is it with nosy people wanting to constantly butt into my life? i’m not stupid. i know exactly what she’s implying. she wants to know if my debut album is inspired by my breakup with katsuki. technically, it is, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“more or less. i guess that’s for me to know and for you to find out.” the audience “ooh”’s and i smirk. “well, there you have it, folks! now, while we go on a little break, i dare you to jam out to y/n’s single, ‘i miss you, i’m sorry!’”

the cameras temporarily shut off as an ad plays and i get up prepare on stage with my band. “you guys ready?” i ask them. one of them chuckles, “nervous, but definitely ready.”

“it’s okay to be nervous. i am too.”

“we all know why.” he winks. “i’m nervous because this is one of my first times singing in front of an audience like this and this is live, not because of him.”

“yeah, right.” he replies. i’m about to come up with a snarky reply when my manager walks up to all of us. “you all ready? cameras turn back in 20.”

“minutes?”

“seconds.”

“crap.” i mutter. i plaster a smile on my face and turn around towards the cheering crowd. i grasp the mic and then i hear my manager in my ear piece, counting down the seconds left to start.

“3, 2, 1…aaaaand, we’re live.”

the interview grins. “as you all know, we’ve got the y/n l/n here, ready to perform a single from her debut album, so here goes nothing! break a leg, y/n.” she laughs before the cameras turn to me and the lights dim enough for them to see me and my band.

i inhale a shaky breath, scanning the crowd. “do you remember happy together? i do, don’t you? then, all of a sudden, you’re sick to your stomach. is that still true?” me and everybody here knows exactly who this song is directed to and as the lyrics flee my throat, i don’t dare to hide my anger, but most of all, my heartbreak and love that i somehow still have for him.

katsuki and i were perfect together. we were always together, no matter what. he didn’t care what people thought of us. he didn’t care that his friends teased him for being in love. he didn’t care about how different our goals were in life…until he did.

we broke up last year. or, well, he broke up with me last year. spewed some lies about us not seeing things the same and it wouldn’t work out in the long run. i just don’t understand. he always knew that my long life goal was to pursue a career in the music industry. i made it clear from the very beginning. sure, i was in the hero course and everything, but i didn’t want to be a hero. i did it so my parents would lay off of me already. and, well, it’s too late to back out now since we graduate this year.

and even though, he broke my heart and stepped all over it, i still have immense love for him.

“you said forever, in the end, i fought it. please, be honest, are we better for it? thought you’d hate me, but instead you called and said, i miss you, i caught it…”

a little bit after we broke up, he called me in the late hours of the night. for some reason, i picked up. i couldn’t decline the call, knowing he’d been on a mission that night with best jeanist. i was worried something had happened to him. the moment i heard him utter those words, that he missed me, i was shook to my core. i was frozen. it’s like i couldn’t breath and the words wouldn’t escape my throat. i wanted to, so badly, beg him to come back to me— that i missed him too.

instead, i hung up on him. i begged for him to come back once and he still left, i made a vow to myself that i’d never do it again— no matter how much i wanted to.

“good to each other, give it the summer. i knew, you too. but i only saw you once in december. i’m still confused.”

my heart clenches as the words spill from my mouth. i remember writing this song, a few months after we broke up. i remember sitting up against my bed, every night, wondering why he broke up with me, and i couldn’t control myself as i picked up my songbook and wrote every single thing i felt. this entire album is exactly how i felt when he broke up with me.

my eyes don’t leave the crowd once. i’m about to open my mouth to sing the next verse, but the words get clogged in my throat when my eyes connect with the burning ones i dream about. the ones that belong in distant memories and not in the present. he’s not alone, though. he’s with our— his friends. denki, kirishima, mina, and sero.

“you said, forever, and i almost bought it. i miss fightin’ in your dorm, breakin’ things when you’re disappointed. i still love you, i promise. nothin’ happened in the way i wanted. every corner of this school is haunted. and i know you said that we’re not talkin’, but i miss you, i’m sorry.” i don’t take my eyes off of him, making sure that i mean every single word that leaves my mouth. i still love him and i miss him.

i wish i was good enough for him. was i not pretty enough? he used to tell me i was beautiful. he used to whisper sweet nothings into my ear after our limbs entangled in our sheets. he used to stare at me and smile when i caught him. he used to play with my hair when he was bored or when he was reading.

“i don’t wanna go, think i’ll make it worse. everything i know brings me back to us. i don’t wanna go, we’ve been here before. everywhere i go leads me back to you.”

as i keep repeating the lyrics, my mind drifts to all the times he’d wrap his arms around me and told me i was the greatest thing that ever happened to him— how he promised to love me forever. i remember our shared kisses— how we’d lay down on our sides and stare at each other until the other grew tired. and now, he’s just a stranger i know everything about.

i know how his eyes crinkle when he laughs. i know he’s not as cruel as everybody makes him out to be. i know how bad his anxiety gets and how he needs to go on walks sometimes to calm down. i know how he secretly like chamomile tea and listens to conan gray when he trains.

i know everything about him.

i finally tear my eyes away from him as the audience cheers. i bow and wave before heading backstage to my dressing room.

the next few days are a blur. millions of tweets are being posted about my album and my performance, but more specifically, the look katsuki and i shared as i performed.

a few days ago i was performing in one of the most popular venues, getting interviewed by one of the most famous interviewers, and now i’m sitting in class, studying to be a hero. my friends congratulate me and sing their favorite songs off of the album. and i grin.

my eyes drift to the boy in the corner of the classroom who’s staring right back at me. he doesn’t hide it either. instead, he throws his his head back and continues to stare at me through half-lidded eyes.

“y/n, you’re, like, crazy famous now!” mina exclaims. “no, i’m not.” i chuckle, shyly. “girl, do not play with me! look at this. you’re blowing up!”

she scrolls through a few of the posts until she lands on one of katsuki. it’s a picture of him at the venue. i think he’s looking at me. the photo is captioned, no way he’s looking at her like that when he was the one who broke her heart.

ochaco gasps. “is that…bakugo?”

mina rapidly nods. “yeah, we tricked him into going. he didn’t know y/n was performing and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.”

“ha, bakugo has haters now. it’s about time. i’ve seen too many edits of him. he’s stealing all the chicks, man.” denki says.

“he can’t help that he’s so manly!” kirishima cries, clutching a hand to his chest. “right, bakubro?” he yells.

katsuki rolls his eyes. “shut up.”

“when are you performing again, y/n?!” mina asks, excitedly. luckily, no one brings katsuki up again and nobody mentions anything about the break up. after katsuki and i broke up, everybody was extremely shocked and they didn’t get over it for months— they still aren’t— but i couldn’t take them talking about how cute we were all the time, so i made them swear not to talk about our relationship around me anymore.

luckily, they listened.

“probably after graduation. might be going on tour. i dunno.” i shrug.

“tour?!?!?! our precious y/n is getting out there. you better remember us when you’re all rich and famous!” mina says.

“i will.” i tell them. and i mean it.

hours later, when the sun sets and everybody is asleep, i make my way toward the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. i can’t sleep tonight for some reason. my heart aches and i feel like i can’t breathe. i wish i could be in his arms again. i wish i could feel what it’s like to be loved again— truly loved.

as i’m preparing my tea, i hear a soft grumble behind me. his soft grumble. “that song was about me, wasn’t it?”

i freeze. “what?”

“the one from the other day.” he says. i feel him take a step closer, his shadow looming over me. my back is turned to him, so i can’t see him, but i can feel him. “it is, isn’t it?”

“what do you care if it is?” i don’t mean to snap at him, but the anger i’ve held in for so long— i’m unable to stop it.

“you miss me. and you still love me. i know you do because i love you.” my breath hitches. “katsuki, please, don’t do this to me.” i turn around and push him away from me so i can escape his suffocating presence.

“y/n.” his voice breaks and i feel my walls crumbling. his rough, calloused hand wraps around my wrist. “please.” that one word is what has me turning around and finally looking at him. he looks everything but okay and i just want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that everything will be okay and that i’m here for him.

“what do you want me to say to that, katsuki? i still love you? because i do! with everything in me! but you left me! you left me when i needed you most. because of what— my career choice? sorry, i’m not good enough for you.” i scoff.

his grip tightens around my wrist. “i broke up with you because it wasn’t going to work out. you know that.”

“how the hell do i know that if we never even tried?!”

“it wasn’t going to work. i’m not good enough for you, i was going to end up breaking your heart sooner or later— we both know that.”

“no, because before you did what you did, i never thought that you’d be the one to break my heart. you told me you loved me.”

“i did— i do.” he corrects.

“then, why did you do it? why did you break up with me? and don’t give me that stupid excuse about it not working out.”

he sighs. “come on, y/n. you know me. i’m messed up. i always have been and i always will be. there’s nothing good about me. and you? you’re perfect. look at you. you’re blossoming and you’re growing and i can’t be the one to hold you back.”

and this is where my anger ends. i take a step closer. “‘suki, you’re not messed up. and even if you are, who cares? we all are. even our perfect little class president iida is messed up. i love you— perfect or imperfect, good or bad. i love you. you’re not going to hold me back because you’re growing too. katsuki, you’re going to be a hero soon. you’re already going on missions. hell, you’ve even got fan pages for you. my point is that you’re everything i ever wanted. all i want is you.”

he doesn’t say anything.

neither do i.

i place my hands on his biceps and reach up to peck his lips. it’s awkward at first and he doesn’t kiss me back. but when i pull away, his hand wraps around the back of my neck and his lips crash onto mine. and it’s then that i realize that katsuki and i’s story never ended, and it never will because for as long as i live, i will love this man like breathing. his tongue delves into my mouth and i gasp at the fierceness he doesn’t dare to hold back. i feel the pain he’s held in for so long and i also feel the time we lost.

“i love you.” he mumbles softly as he pulls away.

[asherthehimbo]

Outliving the stars | Choi San

synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.

Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader

Info: one shot, words(2.1K),

Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives

Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage

It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.

Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.

"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"

Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"

You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.

You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.

You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.

Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.

But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.

You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.

You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.

You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.

You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.

He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.

You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.

Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.

"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"

You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.

You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.

The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.

That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing

Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.

Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.

It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.

It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.

He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.

San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.

San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.

He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.

Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.

He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?

That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.

That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.

It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.

"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"

You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.

You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.

That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.

You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @itsvxlentine @liyatime @hetalia-pol @mommahwa1117

Home page | Ateez masterlist

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 29: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy @forgottenkanji

Eddie knew a lot of things about Steve. He knew he loved peonies more than roses and listened to folk music when he cooked. He knew he loved sledding in the winter and lake days in the summer. He knew every step of his hair care routine and loved head scratches the most. Above all he knew Steve loved Valentine's Day.

He remembered how Steve would always make sure every girl got at least one rose delivered to them in home room and loved decorating his locker. Always wrote his classmates cards to fill their love boxes and made sure the kids got plenty of chocolate. Watched some special girl get taken on a perfect date each year, wishing for a world it could be him.

He remembers there being no dates last year, Steve looking as forlorn as him. He would find out a couple months later it's because the golden boy had been harbouring an equally massive crush and they promptly got together.

Now this year he vowed to go all out for his sweet boyfriend and give him the Valentine's Day he deserved.

"Eddie you hate Valentine's Day."

"You said it was capitalist bullshit."

"You literally burnt a bouquet once."

Eddie glared at the other Hellfire boys, he'd asked them to the diner to help him plan the best day ever not be attacked.

"That was the old Eddie, a sad gay little teenager, adult Eddie has the prettiest boy in the world to please."

Jeff was looking at him fondly while Grant rolled his eyes and Gareth gagged.

"EW don't call my cousin pretty!"

"We literally perform a song where I do just that."

"GOLDEN GODDESS IS ABOUT STEVE!"

"Hush, Garebear, we have plans to make."

The plan began simple, Robin was to take Steve out for breakfast, well, Steve take her out after she begs. Convincing Robin of the plan was easy since she loves Steve and free food as much as Eddie.

Then, while the boys set up the final surprise, Eddie would meet up with Steve at the arcade with the kids.

"Can't wait til we're home and alone, Eds, nice to have someone on Valentine's Day again."

"Just you wait, sweetheart."

Max would then radio Steve asking him to drive her to the movies for her date (although she was refusing to call it that again) with Lucas. She was also easy to convince, liking free rides.

Eddie would quickly change and rush to Steve's apartment to make dinner, he'd told Max to delay getting ready til Steve got there to stall him. He figured he'd have just enough time before-

Eddie was only halfway through making dinner before he heard the keys in the lock. No, Steve was home early, the candles weren't even lit yet!

"Eddie?"

He felt caught and dejected, all his plans falling through his fingers.

Steve glanced around the apartment, rose petals and unlit candles and the dining table set for two with a bouquet of peonies in a vase. Steve's favourite, spaghetti bubbling away behind Eddie.

"Eds, did you do all this for me?"

There's a certain awe in his voice as he asks. Eddie turns, turning down the heat on the pot and steps towards Steve. He takes his boy's hands gazing at him softly, "Of course, sweetheart, you love Valentine's Day. You're always so busy making it special for everyone else, and you missed last year, I wanted you to get wooed for once."

Steve's eyes are a little misty but he's smiling so Eddie knows he's not upset, "You got home early tho, baby, I haven't even lit the candles or turned on the music," Eddie explained biting his lip softly.

"I'm guessing Max was meant to keep me busy? You didn't tell Sinclair and his mom picked her up," Steve laughed.

"Shit, I knew I forgot something."

Steve kissed his cheek, "I'm going to get changed, think that'll be enough time for you?"

"Knowing you'll take forever with your hair, yeah I'll be ready, angel."

Steve flicked him playfully, "Oi, you love my hair."

Eddie yelped but smiled coyly, "Love messing it up too," he said winking.

Steve blushed and went to his bedroom to change. Eddie quickly finished the food, turned on the radio and lit the candles hoping it all set a romantic mood. Like clockwork he plated the food just as Steve returned to the room.

"Smells delicious, baby, you made my favourite!"

Eddie helped him into his chair, playing up the gentlemen's act, "Anything for you, sunshine." He poured them wine and laughed together as Eddie explained the whole plan, including Gareth's protest which Steve's giggled at. They were now cuddled on the couch, not really watching the movie, more just looking at each other occasionally trading soft kisses.

"Thank you for today, Eds, it really means a lot."

"I want to make every day special for you, Stevie."

"I wanted to ask you something, was going to ask on our anniversary but no-one has ever seen me the way you do."

"You know you can ask me anything, love."

Steve took Eddie's hand, glancing down and playing with his rings, a habit Eddie knew he did when he was nervous, "I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in with me?"

A smile quickly crept across Eddie's face, thought about getting to come home everyday to Steve and wake up every morning to him. Thought about how home had become the boy sitting across from him, wherever he went Eddie always wanted to follow.

"I'd love to move in with you, Stevie."

Neither boy would ever have to spend another day, Valentine's or not, not feeling completely and utterly loved ever again.

[mqriuss]

05 | Now playing: Over And Out / Look Here

from 'bad girls that haven't been caught' series

note: highkey projecting myself onto rindou in this chapter and the next LMFAO like this is literally how i am with a crush

playlist | series masterlist | divider by adornedwithlight

this sucks. everything about this sucks.

rindou had no idea he'd feel sick just from looking at you, but you weren't exactly the reason. it's fumio. he shoots lasers into his figure every time he sees the both of you in the hallways, bickering like you always do—except this time he knows what the two of you really are to each other. don't even get him started on the way you'd write notes on a paper, crumple it and throw it in his direction playfully, watching as he smirked before doing the same.

the icing on the cake was that everyone in the classroom actually ships you two. they have for a while now, but to that, you always answered, "ugh, i'd never date fumio."

"in her dreams," fumio would say.

"i never dream of you," you'd shoot back.

and rindou knows that you're aware of the pissed look on his face, but you sure are good at ignoring him now that your boyfriend was giving you attention. when did you even start dating? do you even like him all that much?

rindou hates that he can't compare himself to fumio. ultimately, fumio is the guy you talked to more. outside of academic rivals, you were basically friends. but you and rindou? what even were you to each other besides classmates? he's always had a crush on you and thinks you're cool, but you two never really spoke before that homework incident.

he just doesn't understand what's going on. one day, you stop meeting up with him after school, then he finds you with your academic rival. you then proceed to tell him that you're dating said academic rival, and all of a sudden rindou's invisible to you.

why was your relationship with fumio a secret, anyway? it's not like you'd get any disapproving looks. your parents would probably love for you to have the perfect boyfriend—tall, handsome, educated, straight As, athletic, perfect attendance, won countless medals and trophies, has a good reputation among teachers, dark hair and not a single tattoo on his body.

rindou lets out a sigh. as much as he hated to admit it, he's got nothing on fumio.

the lyrics to the love song playing in his earphones only add to his misery, and he has to resist the urge to delete the playlist he made dedicated to you. instead, he makes a new playlist with different songs. he's going to move on for sure.

-

here is ran's guide to moving on from a girl who doesn't like you back!

1. stop making playlists of her. even if it's full of sad and angry songs, they're still playlists about her.

2. stop showing up just to see her, you already skip class often anyway.

3. stop wearing flashy jackets to school to get her attention, she doesn't give a fuck and you look stupid.

4. try cleaning your damn room for once to distract yourself from thinking of her.

rindou had failed to follow the guide. days passed and he has made five playlists about you, his attendance is perfect just to see you (which scares even the teachers), he is barely even wearing his uniform—replacing his blazer for designer jackets, and his room is actually clean, but he's still thinking about you.

everyday is dreadful, seeing you is dreadful, and as always, you ignore him. it hurts, but it was kind of addicting in a way. despite not trying hard enough to move on from you, he thinks he surely will with each passing day.

and he really does think he can forget about you, until hamada sensei comes in during your break to return everyone's homework from last time. not everyone was in class but shimoda, the guy who paid you to do his homework, was there and fuming.

"the hell is wrong with her?" he exclaims, throwing the paper onto the floor. "she wrote all my answers wrong on purpose!"

while shimoda was busy yelling while pointing fingers to your empty seat, rindou looks over his own answers. you had answered only four out of ten questions wrongly. he smirks and chuckles to himself, ignoring the way his heart was doing somersaults.

"i fucking paid this bitch to do a simple task, and she-"

a fist comes flying to his face in a motion so swift that he had no time to react. shimoda stumbles backwards, hitting his chair and then the floor. the classroom falls silent. with a bloody nose, he slowly looks up to see who punched him.

"if it was so simple, you would've done it yourself," rindou says through gritted teeth whilst bending down to grab him by the collar. "and you've got some nerve calling someone a bitch while they're not around. i'd like to see you try that again later, dumbass."

he harshly lets go of shimoda's collar and as if on cue, you walked in to the classroom—your gaze completely fixated on rindou. his heart jumps when you finally speak to him after days of ignoring him.

"bet you didn't know we have a quiz next week that will significantly contribute to our grade for hamada sensei's class," you announce right off the bat, no hi or hello whatsoever. you weren't even going to acknowledge the injured shimoda.

rindou, in fact, didn't know about the quiz.

he quirks an eyebrow at you. "i didn't... but i'll just cheat."

"no, you won't," you interrupt and decide for him, confusing him further.

"what-"

"i'm gonna tutor you after school."

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[forbebeandjam]

could you do a bada lee x dancer!reader story where reader is a kuudere and bada is shy towards her please?🙏🙏

Poker Face Lover | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | fluff

Summary: Bada is head over heels for the Kuudere dancer.

Word Count: 1.3k

Bada’s Point of view

A/N: hopefully it’s to your liking☺️

My entire life my mother had talked to me about love. A kind of love you only find once in a lifetime. I looked at my classmates and no one really caught my eye, at least not in that sense.

As I grew and got older, I began dating. The boys were sweet but they weren't what I was looking for...

Girls... it felt good dating them but somehow I would choose the cheating ones. That was until I reached high school and I met her.

Lim Y/N. She was the definition of perfection for me. Her tall figure and long dark hair captivated me. She would never smile but when she danced... she would have so many gorgeous facial expressions. Never a smile.

"Bada!" I heard a loud voice.

"Here!" I said.

"We took names thirty minutes ago. It's your turn to dance," the teacher said making my face turn a red shade.

"Let's choose your partner. Um... Lim Y/N, come one up," she said.

I froze in my spot as my breath hit stuck in my throat and I started to cough. Lusher hit my back and pushed me to the center of the room where I stumbled as I bumped into Y/N's figure.

"Sorry..." I said.

"Alright, you two. Start!"

I cleared my throat. She turned to look at me but she didn't smile. A faint blush painted my cheeks as she got closer. She placed her hand on my waist and I had to try my best to hold in my emotions. 

Dancing waltz with her felt strange. I am a hip-hop and pop dancer. She is a ballroom and waacking dancer yet somehow, our bodies seemed to be more in sync and complimenting each other.

The song played softly and I allowed her to take the lead. I threw my head back and with every spin I found myself lost in my delusion world where I could go up to her and tell her how I really feel.

"Good job! Bada, you are getting so much better. This will be your partner for the rest of this semester," The teacher said. I bowed and walked off without realizing Y/N was following behind me. 

"Bada," I froze at the voice and slowly turned around. 

"Sorry. I know I messed up. I understand if you want to switch partners," I said and bowed apologetically. 

"No... um... I got this for you. I heard you like grape juice. I'll see you around," She placed the juice box in my hands and walked away without a single emotion on her face. 

"What was that?" Lusher said as she sipped on her coffee cup. 

"Y/N said she got this for me," I held the juice box to my chest and looked up to see Y/N's figure fading away. 

"Lucky you. You get to dance with your long-time crush. Your... perfect girl," Lusher said in a mocking voice and I pushed her arm. 

-

As the days went by, I tried to avoid Y/N. Sure, she was my crush but... she still intimidated me. She was too good to be true. 

Of course being partners, this would be nearly impossible. Finals rolled around and the final project was to choreograph a two-minute ballroom dance to any song. 

"Tatter is the perfect partner! I can't wait to dance with her all night!" Lusher said as she shook my arm. 

I was looking down at the floor trying to figure out how on earth I would manage to do this with Y/N. I felt Lusher pull my arm but I didn't stop my tracks until I collided with someone. 

"Sorry," I mumbled and looked up. A knot was created in my throat when my eyes locked with her. 

"Oh, it's you. Let's go to dinner. What about five?" Y/N said. I looked at Lusher who was smiling ear to ear. 

"I... um... I can't. I have an exam at that time and I-" I stuttered stupidly. I could never speak properly when she would look at me with those damn eyes. Those cold and emotionless eyes. 

"Y/N, we are going to be late for our Korean exam!" her friend Audrey said. 

"Right. So, what time?" She said turning back to me.

"S-se..." 

"Seven. She said seven," Lusher chimed in for me. 

"Great. I'll pick you up at seven. You have my number so send me your address. See you," Y/N said and walked away. 

"Bada! Did that just happen?" Lusher said. 

"What just happened?" I said looking at Y/N's figure walking away. 

"You have a date with Y/N at seven. I have to get you ready. Let's go!" Lusher said, dragging me away by the arm. 

After taking my exam she dragged me into her room. She pulled out several pieces of clothing from her closet and had them on the bed. 

"This jacket... these pants and... OH!" she ran to her roommate's closet and pulled out a tank top. 

"Now, makeup. Sit..." she pointed at her chair. 

"Am I a dog now?" I said and she just glared. After fixing my hair and makeup, she told me to get dressed and sent me on my way down the stairs.

I saw Y/N leaning on the wall holding a lighter in her hand. I also slipped not looking at my steps but made it safely and stood before her. Her stare was intense and almost made me tear up. 

"You look... um," 

"Is it too much? I told Lusher she was overdoing it. I'll go change-" I was about to turn around when she held my arm. 

"You look pretty. Let's go," she held my hand making me blush and hide my face inside my jacket. 

We shortly arrived at a park and walked to a picnic set up. I looked around confused but she invited me to sit down. 

"Do you like it? I prepared it myself," Her poker face never faded. 

"You!?" I placed my hands over my mouth when I realized how loud I had been. She just stared at me. I rubbed my nape before speaking. 

"Sorry. You don't seem like the type to put a picnic like this together. No offense," I said. My face was burning up from the embarrassment and nervousness. 

"None taken. I know I can be... intimidating. I seem to have no emotions or the proper words to speak to people so Audrey usually does the talking but... I am human. I feel just like everyone else. I was never taught how to express my emotions, I guess," she said and I smiled at her words. 

"I understand. Thank you for inviting me here to talk about our project," I said. 

"That's not why I did this," she said and I looked at her as I tilted my head.

"I invited you here because I like you. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to date me... be my girlfriend. You are the only girl besides Audrey that has been willing to talk to me and... I would like to get to know you better," she said. 

I covered my mouth to prevent a gasp from escaping my lips repeating in my head 'Lee Bada, control yourself' but as much as I tried, tears still managed to escape my eyes.  

"Hey, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You can just say no and we can go back," she said with her eyes diverted from me. I got closer to her and wrapped my arms around her softly. 

I felt her arm go around my waist and she relaxed into my embrace. I decided to break the hug and her face was tainted with a soft share of pink. Her eyes fluttered and I smiled. 

"I'll take that as a yes. Thank you, Bada," she said. I kissed her cheek and a soft, almost invisible grin formed on her lips. 

"Is that a smile I see?" I said. 

"No," she said as she looked away. 

"You're cute," I said and continued to talk and eat peacefully under the soft lighting and the moonlight. 

The perfect night with my porker face love...

Thank you for reading 🩵

[hyunsungies]

jealousy — han jisung

pairing: han x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 3.6k

warnings: kinda mean dom han, unprotected sex, slightly dacryphilia, english is not my first language (sorry for any mistakes)

when your college teacher asked for that assignment in pairs and said that he would choose the duo of each one, you felt in elementary school again. your assignments always came out perfect with the girls you used to unite with, but this specific teacher said that you should train group work with people you don't know, since, according to him, it would be exactly like that in your future job.

therefore, you were forced to do this with a random boy from your class with whom you have never interacted before. there was no specific reason why you never talked to him. he seemed to be normal and everything, but he hadn't caught your attention.

“so, when can we meet?”

the boy asked you when the class ended. you both have scheduled it for next weekend at your house, or rather, jisung's house. you were dating for so long that you both decided to live together. you didn't feel very comfortable with the idea of going to the house of a stranger. han probably wouldn't even be at home, busy with the new album he was producing with the rest of the group, so it wouldn't be a problem for him, that's what you thought.

the moment you got home, you told him that a classmate would go to your house this saturday to do a job with you.

“only the two of you?”

“yes.”

“both alone?”

hannie looked at you with a grimace, not happy with the idea that you would stay home alone with another guy. he didn’t think you were going to do anything. he would never think that of you, but nothing prevents this guy from trying something with you.

anyway, he didn't protest or anything, he just nodded and went back to doing what he was doing.

when saturday finally arrived, you woke up next to your boyfriend in bed. you were cuddling for a few minutes before you got up to make coffee. jisung showed up in the kitchen exactly when everything was ready and then you ate together.

there was something wrong, though. usually, hannie eats in a hurry and leaves home very early to get to the studio, even more so in times such as the current one, of composing new songs, elaborating new choreographies... today, he was taking advantage of every second of breakfast to taste his food and tell you some news. when you both finished eating, he remained seated, chatting with you, which left you confused.

“aren’t you going to the studio today?”

“actually, no. chan allowed me to work from home.”

…?

so you mean that bangchan, the most workaholic man you know, allowed han to stay at home while they have a new album to release, all this just on the day your classmate will come to your house to do that assignment? you couldn't tell if that was an amazing coincidence or if he had told him about the fact that you would be alone with another man at home and begged not to go to the studio. well, you’ll never know. there was no reason to waste time thinking about it and you were actually glad that he would stay home, so you got up and went do the dishes while waiting for your co-worker’s arrival.

a few minutes later, you and hannie were talking in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. it could only be him. you spied through the peephole before opening the door, just to make sure it was really the guy. after confirming who it was, you turned the key in the lock and pulled the door handle.

“i’’m here.”

he greeted you with a smile and passed by you, admiring the surroundings. he didn't have much time to do that, because jisung soon appeared at the kitchen door and waved to him. the two greeted each other from afar and you introduced them.

“and that’s my boyfriend, han.”

“glad to meet you” the guy said.

hannie smiled and watched the two of you settle down at the dinner table, where you would do the assignment. your laptop was already on the table, so you just turned it on, while your classmate took his own laptop out of his backpack and put it on the table as well. all settled down, you two began to plan what each one would do, creating a sketch and dividing it into parts. you spent a few minutes doing this and, during that time, you completely forgot about jisung's presence in that house, at least until he appeared in the living room with his own laptop in hand and a headset. he mentioned that he would work from home, but you didn't think he would do it in the same room as you, separated by a small space.

both you and the guy stared at him for a few seconds before looking at each other, slightly disconcerted by his presence. however, jisung was not making any noise, with the exception of the keys he pressed with his fingers. taking this into account, you decided to turn your attention to the draft of the assignment and the dialogue you were having with your classmate.

as soon as the appropriate parts were separated, each one started their own work, in order to put everything together at the end. there were moments when you interacted with each other to make sure you were going on the right track. you were already focused a few minutes later, totally concentrated, when, suddenly:

“i didn't want to be annoying, but... can you ask your boyfriend to stay somewhere else? the noise of the keys is distracting me.”

he whispered to you. deep down, you suspected a lot of the reason why he had asked you for this. i mean, you were also typing on your laptop, but why did only your boyfriend's keyboard bother him?

even so, you decided to give in, because you knew how the presence of someone else in the same room can distract you. that said, you turned back in the chair and stared at jisung.

“hannie!”

he had his headphones, so he couldn't hear you, keeping focused on what he were doing. you got up from the chair and went to him, stopping right in front of his face. as soon as he put his eyes on you, han took off the headphones and waited for what you had to say.

“babe, can you work in our bedroom? or anywhere upstairs?”

hannie was visibly confused, not understanding why you were asking for this. he wasn't making any noise, so why ask him to get out of the room? when he looked at your co-worker though, jisung understood that his withdrawal was a wish of his and not yours only by the way he looked at him back. he thought about resisting and questioning you, but he didn't want to create an embarrassing situation for you.

“fine.”

he smiled at you and put his things together, going up to your room and disappearing from your field of view. there was no sign of frustration on his face. when you heard the noise of the door being closed, you went back to the dining table and tried to focus again on what you were doing.

“thanks.”

your classmate smiled as a thank you and turned the focus to his own work. that was strange, but you decided to ignore it. there was something more important now and you needed to finish this.

after a few minutes, you were able to concentrate again. sometimes, you felt the guy looking in your direction. maybe he was making sure you were able to deal with your part or whatever. even feeling his eyes on you sometimes, you didn't let your attention deviate from that assignment. things were flowing well. if you followed that rhythm, you would certainly be able to finish everything today.

silence reigned inside the house, with the exception of the keys you pressed. suddenly, as you finished writing a paragraph, you heard your boyfriend's voice calling your name from your room. some steps were heard too, so you thought he was walking to the room you were again. you diverted your attention from the computer and waited for him to appear on the stairs. jisung actually appeared, but he stopped on the first step and leaned on the handrail.

“can you help me here?”

“right now?”

you asked, not much in order to stop what you were doing. it would be difficult to concentrate again.

“it’s gonna be quick.”

something, you didn't know exactly what, but something made you know that it wouldn't be quick. even though you had this feeling, you couldn't let your boyfriend down. taking a deep breath, you got up from the chair.

“i’ll be right back.”

you told the guy and went towards the stairs. jisung was no longer there, which made you confused. when you arrived in the upper hallway, the door to your room was open. you walked there, thinking that he must be there, but when you entered the place, you realized that it was empty.

that's what you thought. suddenly, the door closed behind you and two hands grabbed your waist from behind. you would have jumped in fright if han wasn't holding you. before you could process what was happening, he got the strands of your hair to the side and started kissing your neck, walking his hands through your body.

“hannie, what are you doing?!”

you didn't move away from him, but you also didn't melt on his hands like you always do. as much as you love all the touches your boyfriend gives you, now was not a very good time for that. there were people at home and you had obligations to fulfill. however, han had no intention of answering you. he kept kissing your neck, until you separated from him and stared at him with a serious face. now that you were far away, he finally made mention of saying something.

“claiming you.”

“w-what?”

his answer didn't make any sense to you. with a naughty smile on his face, jisung began to approach you again.

“that guy, he’s into you.”

there’s no fucking way han was feeling jealous of a random guy you didn't even talk to. even worse, he really thought the boy was hitting on you, and he didn't do anything to indicate this.

“you’re out of your mind right now.”

“stop fooling yourself, i know he asked you to kick me out.”

after finishing this sentence, his hands were already on your waist once again. he kissed your forehead, then your cheek and finally your lips. it was a brief peck, so you could contest soon after.

“babe” you used the nickname in an attempt to make he listen to you “he asked for it because your keyboard was distracting him.”

“did you really believe that?”

it’s true that you found the excuse very weird, but at no time did it cross your mind that he had done it because he was interested in you. in fact, that seemed far from the truth. nothing jisung said would convince you that he was into you. even so, you didn't have an answer to his question, so you just kept quiet. when he realized that you didn't know what to say, he laughed lightly and kissed your neck again, as if he had proven his point.

“i need to go back, hannie…”

“then you’re leaving me for that asshole?” he whispered right beside your ear, licking your earlobe right after.

“i’m not leaving you, but i need to finish that assignment.”

“relax, darling. only a few minutes and i let you go back to him.”

back to him, not it. han wasn't talking about your goddam assignment, but about your classmate, who was waiting for you downstairs. before you could protest and get rid of his hands, jisung pushed you to bed and climbed over you, caging you under his body.

“hannie, not now!”

he completely ignored you, suffocating your words with an intense kiss. in a humiliating way, you ended up surrendering to him for a few seconds, feeling his tongue sliding into your mouth, hot and wet. a few seconds wouldn't kill anyone, right? you would agree to stay there if it were for a short period of time, but when han stuck his hand under your bra and twisted your left nipple, you realized that he had no intention of being quick, so you held his face with both hands and pushed him away from you.

“babe, let me finish that all. i promise i’ll be quick and then I'll give you all the attention you-“

“you’re not going anywhere now.”

jisung went to your neck once again and left a strong hickey there. you tried to push him away from there before he left a mark, but he didn't let go of you. only after making sure that your skin would turn purple, he went back and smiled when he saw the result.

“hannie, please!”

you didn't seem very willing to shut up, so he had to do it for you, kissing you once again. while you were distracted by his mouth, he took off your shorts along with your panties in a blink and left you naked from the waist down.

“babe…”

you tried to protest one last time. surprising you, han grabbed your neck with relative force, enough to restrict a little of the air passage, but not enough to hurt you. looking into your eyes, he said:

“we can do it the easy way, or the hard way. if you keep quiet, i'll be gentle. if you try to stop me again, i'll make that guy down there pretty aware of what we're doing.”

that was the last thing you wanted. when jisung felt like hearing you cry for him, he could do it easily, stuffing his own cock inside your walls so hard that the headboard hit the wall, making a loud noise, but not as loud as your moans. you couldn't take the risk of letting hannie do this to you now, or your classmate would certainly hear everything and you didn't want to go through this embarrassment. therefore, you touched your boyfriend's wrist and nod your head, indicating that you would give in to him. glad with your answer, he finally let go of your neck and gave you one more kiss, seductive as always.

accepting your destiny, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. meanwhile, jisung lowered his own pants enough to leave his dick out. separating his mouth from yours, he put the tip in your slit and looked into your eyes again.

“you better close your mouth, sweetheart.”

you obeyed him instantly, silencing yourself with your hand. that was the best decision you could made because han thrusted into you straight away, not giving you a second to get used to the stretch. as soon as he fit into your walls, jisung grunted and began to move his body.

he had his face right above yours now, biting his own lower lip and suppressing some moans that insisted on coming out of his throat while you had a grimace on your face while using all your concentration so as not to emit any sound. it would only took a little more strength on jisung's thrusts for the headboard to hit the wall. luckily, he had fucked you often enough in that bed to know what rhythm he could follow without making any noise. you thanked the heavens for him collaborating with you. that would end really bad if that was not the case.

“too rough?”

he asked and you nod, hoping that he would slow down. this would help you control the moans, but he just laughed at you.

“i know you can take it.”

han said and continued to push himself in and out of you. this side of jisung is rare to appear. usually, he is very sweet with you while having sex. he only treated you like this on special occasions. today was definitely a special occasion: you had brought another man into your house, one who would do anything to be in your boyfriend's place now. jisung knew this very well and, for him, it was okay for you not to know this! your naivety was cute, but he was there to make sure the guy didn't take advantage of this.

it was getting harder and harder to hold your moans. han's cock was hitting your g spot, making your spine arch. he grabbed your hip tightly, sticking his fingers into your skin to hold you in the same place. the wet noise of the thrusts was loud, but you believed and expected that it was not enough to hear from the dining table. even if it was, you weren't willing to stop now that you were feeling so good.

“god… s-so fuckin wet...”

jisung moaned in your ear. he kissed your neck again, making you clench around him. you could feel that he was getting close by the way he was getting messier, licking your skin nonstop and moaning more often. he also increased the pace of his thrusts, as well as the tightness in your hip.

tears began to appear in your eyes because of the tension exactly when he turned back to face you. hannie was feeling like a good boyfriend, so he started kissing your cheeks where the tears start to run, wiping them for you.

“you look so beautiful crying… it makes me wanna go rougher...”

you looked into his eyes in despair and he laughed at your face. if he decide to do this, the noise would certainly be too loud.

“calm dow, i'm not gonna do that.”

your body relaxed a little after hearing this, but not enough for you to stop crying. the feeling was so good and, deep down, you even wanted him to be mean. sex with jisung made you stop caring about anything, including that guy downstairs. you would certainly let him go rougher at this point, thinking only of your own pleasure, but hannie gladly wasn’t doing this with you.

your mind was going numb. you wanted more, so you pulled your blouse by the hem to leave your breasts exposed and provide a show for sungie. seeing your breasts bouncing with his thrusts made him twitch inside you. hannie wasted no time, he soon lowered his face to the height of your nipples and began to suck them.

your tears increased. it was all too much for you. all that pleasure with jisung's mouth made your walls clench more around his cock. rolling his eyes back, he moved away from your nipples.

“s-shit! i can't take it anymore… 'm gonna-

before his sentence was completed, he came and painted your walls white. his thrusts were gradually decreasing until they stop for all and you were finally able to uncover your own mouth, taking a deep breath right after. when take his dick out of you, he knelt in front of you and climbed your panties in a hurry so that his cum would not slip from you. as soon as he put on your shorts again, he kissed your shoulder a few times and caressed your chin.

“can’t believe you managed to be quiet and let me finish inside you... that’s my girl.”

despite being unable to see his face, you knew that he was smiling right now. frustrated with the time that had passed up there, you got up from the bed in a hurry and left the room, leaving behind a satisfied hannie.

when you reached the edge of the stairs and saw that your classmate was still there, you thanked the heavens that he hadn't gotten tired of waiting for you, gathered his own things and left. as soon as you sat down in the chair again, he looked away from the screen of his laptop and stared at you.

“i'm back.”

“why did you-“

his question stopped unfinished. you imagined that he would ask you why you had taken so long, but it is likely that he already has the answer to this question, since his gaze was focused on your neck, probably where jisung had left a hickey. trying to mask it, you made a confused face to him, waiting for him to finish the question.

“nevermind.”

finally, the guy said and stared at his screen again. you decided to do the same, trying to locate yourself in the last paragraph you had written, which was being very difficult given the feeling of hannie's sperm running down your panties.

[simporado]

You’re somethin’ else

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: The same words said to you in different points of your life, all still manage to make you blush everytime.

Content Warning/Tags: Fluff, Making Out, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Drunken Confessions kinda, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert

MDNI please 🔞

Today was work study for you and some of your classmates. You were out in patrol with with some of the heroes from the company you were interning in. You had been patrolling for about 30 minutes now. As you and your fellow hero turn a corner, you see Deku, Shoto, and Bakugo walking towards your direction.

Deku spots you first, “Oh! Y/n-san! What a coincidence.” Bakugo and Shoto then turns to look at you. “Hi guys! you were out on patrol too, huh? How’s that going for you all?” You asked. Bakugo puts his hands in his pockets and slouches, “Hah. No ass-beating’s happened yet and its a fuckin waste of my time.” Deku calls out with a small “K-Kacchan..” in the background when suddenly, a scream was heard. You all turn to the direction of the sound.

A villain attack. You all spring into action. You, Deku and Shoto evacuate nearby civilians away while Bakugo immediately goes for the villain. the villain had a quirk where they could aim in various directions and multitask. When the villain had Bakugo at point range and a civilian was nearby who would for sure get hit, you immediately moved to intervene. You had used your quirk to simultaneously move the civilian safely, Bakugo out of the villain’s shot, THEN delivered a blow to the villain enough to get him distracted.

The police had finally arrived and restrained the villain with anti-quirk cuffs. Shoto was briefing the police while Deku aided in bringing civilians to get first aid. You and Bakugo had been talking to an officer as well. After the officer left, you were about to turn on your heel “Well, I’ll be on my way. Great job in handling the villain as usual, Bakug—“

“I didn’t really do shit…” Bakugo interrupts. “You… handled that well more than any of us.” You blink at that then smile, your hand reaching to scratch at the back of your head in bashfulness, “Well, we all did what we could and succeeded, didn’t we? That’s still a win.” and you smile. Bakugo stares at you with an unreadable expression then looks away. Then, you feel your cheeks heat up as you heard what he whispered to himself, “Heh. You’re somethin’ else.”

-----

Your classmates from UA decided to get together after working hard being Pro Heroes. It was a hangout in Momo’s place since she had the largest space to accommodate all your classmates. It was mostly the girls and the “bakusquad” who had planned it. “C’mon, it’s a great opportunity for everyone have fun and catch up! Plus everyone’s schedules aligns by then, so there’s no other perfect time.” Mina had said. And you did agree, it was a much needed relaxation after working hard being a pro hero.

You hadn’t planned on drinking too much, but it must have slipped your mind because everyone was having a really great time. Karaoke was brought out, and Kirishima’s folk song performance had most of you dying of laughter. Some of the guys looked like uncles it also made you laugh so hard, you couldve busted a lung. Iida, Sero, Shoto, and Shoji standing at a corner, a hand holding their beers and the other either at their waist or in their pockets, chatting amongst themselves. Others went and played Just Dance, You, Mina, and Ochako being the ones playing more then others.

Whenever you danced, you felt eyes focusing on you but refused to acknowledge that and played it off as being delusional. You tried really hard not to scan the room and see who was watching, you really did. But before you could stop yourself, you found yourself locking eyes with a pair of red ones, who was sitting at the couch nearby. The shock must’ve been great because you didn’t notice you both were just staring for so long.

“Oh, we’re almost out of cold drinks here!” Kaminari announces from the table, and it snaps you out of your daze. “I’ll get them. There’s more in your fridge, right Momo?” you asked, volunteering mainly to excuse yourself. Momo turns to you from the table, “Yes, they’re in the fridge. They’re still unopened in crates so it’s quite heav—“

“I’ll come with.” Bakugo interrupts Momo. “I need a cold one.” he explains, raising the empty beer in his hand as if to emphasize. He stands from his seat and stops right next to you. You stare at him wide eyed and in shock, and he just raises a brow at you. After shaking off the shock, you quickly realized he was waiting for you to go first.

When you get to the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the beer crates. Bakugo reaches to get the crates from you, but you didn’t let him. He tuts and forces the crates out of your hands, only to quickly put in on the nearby island behind you and trap you between his arms. against the island “Why’re you carrying a lot.”

You blink at him confused, “What?”

“I mean, just let me fuckin’ do it...”, he pauses, “for you…” You didn’t know how to respond. You figured he was drunk with the way he’s acting. But then again, so were you with the lack of response your brain had been giving.

Before you could say something, he drops his forehead to your shoulder and you stiffen. “You’re too fuckin’ cute.” He groans into your collarbone before softly kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, going up your neck until he stops at your cheek. You both stare at each other, his eyes silently asking if he can continue. You raise your hand to grab at his collar and pull him to your lips. You felt a flutter in your stomach when he leans more into your kiss, releases a sigh of relief through his nose, as if he had been meaning to do this. You gasp in surprise when he starts to swipe his tongue on your lips, and takes that opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. His hand on your waist pull you tightly against his body and his right leg pushes up in between your thighs. He pulls away, both your spit still connected. “Fuck, you’re something else.” He says panting, pupils blown wide.

Your half-lidded eyes widen at his words but before you could respond, Kirishima enters the room loudly. “Momo said to bring all of them out, so I came to help—“ You and Bakugo already had distanced yourselves from each other when Kirishima’s eyes lands at you both. Bakugo wordlessly brings out the two crates from the island and walks out the kitchen past Kirishima. “You okay, y/n? you look red in the face.” You cup ur face then fan yourself, “Do I? I mean, haha, Momo wasn’t kidding when she said they were heavy”, you lie as you thumb at the fridge. Kirishima just smiles at you then you both carry the remaining ones out the kitchen.

It was already late in the am, and most of your classmates were passed out. You couldn’t stop thinking about Bakugo since the incident in the kitchen, especially the last thing he said to you. You scanned for him in the room, only to find him going up the stairs. You don’t

know what compelled you to follow, but you were already on the stairs. When you got up, you didn’t see where he went. Just as you were about to walk to a direction, a hand grabs you and pulls you into a room. It’s Bakugo. And he’s got you against the door.

The room was dark and the only light was coming from the window. He leans into you, forehead resting against yours, his hands on your hips. He opens his mouth to speak, “I—“ but before he could finish, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him fervently.

—————

Nothing but heavy panting fills the darkened room. Pants alternating between the two of you, eventually your breathing slows in sync. You're straddling his hips on top of him, brows furrowed and both eyes closed as you bask in the afterglow. Both of your hands at the sides of his waist on the matress, the proximity allowing you to feel his slowing pants on your face. You slowly open your eyes only to see him already staring at you. Somehow you couldnt begin to describe the look in his eyes. Disbelief? Adoration? Love-

As soon as the last thought hit you, his fingers comb through your hair from the hairline at your forehead down to the back of your neck. His hand ends up cupping your jaw, thumb carressing the skin of your cheek. He lets out a deep sigh, "You're somethin' else" he whispers, mouth adorned with a soft smile.

Your eyes widen before chuckling and he frowns. “What’re you laughing ‘bout?” he asks. “Nothing, just remembered you first told me that during work study before back in UA.” you cross your arms on his chest and lay your head down on your arms, tilting up to look at him. “Left an impression on me because it was the first time you had complimented me.” Katsuki’s eyes go wide and blushes. “I… pushed myself to say that ‘cuz you looked hot, beatin’ the shit outta that useless extra and all. Realized I’ve never really seen you in action before that.” and now your red in the face at his confession.

He smirks in amusement at your flushed face, as if he knew what you were thinking, before wrapping his arms around your waist and slowly bringing you towards his lips to kiss you once again.

“I’ve always liked you since then, Y/n. You really are somethin’ else.” He says with such serious eyes yet full of emotion. You lean up to kiss him at that, then lay your head down on his bare chest. sleep starts to overtake you as you listen to his heartbeat. "I like you too, Katsuki. I think you're really something else too."

~~~~

originally posted from ao3, link below!

this is my first fic ever like. no cap. sponsored by my delusional simping brain.

i hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless! thank you for reading mmmwak

[demonicnarwhale]

So for my first project in my Proprint class, we had to make 5 separate prints (draw or photograph something then print it on a 17x22 paper, same thing as last semester) so here's my stuff!!! Oh! And the prompt was basically anything but monochromatic or black and white, but we can either use one or two colors

They're all based on my Small Town AU because I thought it'd help get my ideas for this AU thingy situated a bit, and cuz it's fun

The first one to start us all off is Doc Scratch! The one and only, the catalyst (if you will) of this small town turning to shit. It's basically him bringing a sort of day of reckoning thing going on. But not like reckoning in the idea that they're getting judged by god or whatever. In this case, Scratch himself just plays around in this universe (this is the "bad" ending). Basically, the townsfolk begin to turn and hurt each other (reasoning will be explained in the 2nd project tehee and the wording here is like this just so I don't spoil too much) (also the top is just the different edits I came across and thought looked pretty)

Motifs / Symbolisms:

- The time on the clock reads 3:19. So specifically Genesis 3:19 is pretty much just when Adam and Eve are cast out of the Garden of Eden. The idea here is that Scratch will turn this thriving and self sufficient, almost found-family-like town into a big ol' graveyard. That paradise they all have come to enjoy and build a community together? Buh-bye!!! Cast out! Into the miseries!!!

- The picture of the oil painting is of The Agnew Clinic 1889 painted by Thomas Eakins. The painting was commissioned in honor of David Hayes Agnew, a pretty well known and respected surgeon of his time, a leader in a way. And I just felt like Scratch would have some of these "lesser" known art pieces of important figures of the past around his house. (Die would approve of this painting I believe)

- The apples are purposefully way too round, almost Christmas tree ornament looking. It's to allude to this feeling or idea of something being too perfect, but very off putting. Basically Doc Scratch himself. He's a man that's a part of the town but also not there. He's a total enigma for everyone and most people will chose to just accept that and just be cordial with him, that placid and simple smile just has something deeper going on teehee

- The card he holds is a nod to tarot ones (obvious I know but I ain't no tarot or star signs believer so I had to search up which card would make sense here). So seven of swords just means betrayal so haha on the nose

- There was gonna be a violin added but I just wanted to get this drawing done so I said "screw that". The reason why I was gonna go with the violin is cuz that idea of "haha Scratch is another name for the devil" and I remembered a song The Devil Went Down to Georgia which I fuckin dig. Also the idea of the devil having a violin playing contest with a kid is so fucking funny cuz he got his ass kicked. (oh yeah and just the idea of the devil being associated with the violin)

So yeah! I just had a lot of fun just coming up with this drawing and doing a little breaking the frame/boarder with the small apple branches reaching into the top box.

What can I say? I love marine associated themes so of course I gotta draw Trace and Fin. Oh and the sketches (or draft) I did just made me feel so proud and happy. Cuz even though it's a bunch of mumbo jumbo, it all just managed to flow out really well with this one. It's a shame that the digitalized final piece isn't as impressive to me as my sketches. The two compasses are also pointed at 3:00 and 5:00 cuz, ya know. That's their numbers. The fish from bottom to top are sockeye salmon, moray eel, tunas, and I didn't look at one fish for the ref with the top one but let's go with red snapper.

i sadly had to rush this one as it was getting close to critique day (aka the 26th) and some of my other classmates needed to print too so I didn't want to get in their way and such later on. (originally we had to make 5 prints but he saw not a lot of people would be able to so he cut it down to just 3. And so I already had 3 prints done so why not just let everyone else who really needed to print, print)

So this print was going to have PM, AR, and WV doing their own things (as seen in the first draft) but I changed things up so it'd be simpler and allow me to work on the last 2 prints. But hey! At least WV's there!! And then I was messing with shadows and the last one just looked really funny. OH! Oh and the 2422 was when PM made her appearance in the webcomics (at least, that's what I think or recall) and since that's her plane, it was a little nod. And this is her logo thing (still being worked on but you get the gist of it)

I do however feel hella bummed that I wasn't able to keep the mechanic tidbits (for AR) in this drawing since I hate drawing cars, the tools I tried drawing didn't fit the look of the finalized drawing. I'm sorry AR </3. Oh and I completely forgot about WV's lil torn up red flag, but it wouldn't really match i feel anyways in the end results. WV being a farmer, PM a mail woman hence the stamps, and AR being a (car) mechanic!!!

Ok so that's all for now, I'll upload the 4th and 5th print and photos of them all printed in another post since this is fuckin lengthy

PT2 HERE

[kevinsdsy]

Hi how are you? I hope you are doing well

Can you name me some of the songs that remind you of kevin?

AHHH I HAD KEPT THIS IN THE INBOXES BC U SENT THIS WHEN I WAS JUST MAKING PLAYLISTS FOR AFTG but i’ve been SOOO busy i never got around to it. so even though i don’t have my playlists ready i can give you a few of my thoughts.

anyways before i go on a rant here are the playlists :)) the first one is specifically songs that remind me of him and the second playlist is songs i think he would listen to :)) both need touching up, but for now this is what i have.

so nora has said kevin listens to classical music which I LOVE for him sadly i feel like i don’t listen a lot to it to give my own takes and song choices on it :(( but definitely something i want to get into one day and then i’m sure i’ll make a whole playlist of it

anyways moving on to music i do know

i think kevin listens to the neighbourhood like in my mind the neighbourhood is THE PERFECT vibe for how i envision kevin

and i mean this in a way like “i think kevin would listen to this”

same goes for florence + the machine but so many of the songs are either him or jean or ravens coded it’s insane and also so many are foxes coded too i LOVE interpreting f+tm for aftg

anyways king by f+tm IS SO !!!!!!

and how much is art really worth? the very thing you’re best at is the thing that hurts the most.

ntm shake it out for kevin during the king’s men

oh no! by MARINA (and the diamonds (rip to this name)) IS SOOOO KEVIN LIKEEE

i would use specific lyrics to prove my point but tbh: the whole song™️

this is me trying by taylor swift likeee

i’ve been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they’re rusting.

they told me all of my cages were mental. so i got wasted like all my potential. and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad.

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere. fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here.

half return by adrianne lenker also reminds me of kevin, but in a ‘read between the lines it depends how you interpret it’ kind of way and i don’t even think i could really get my point across if i did try to explain it 😭😭 but the song is so devastatingly beautiful likeee (also reminds me of seth’s death)

too sweet by hozier is such a kevin song but in a way of i could see people making so many edits of him to this song and they would go viral LMAO

i think kevin would also listen to mitski but only during specific times/moods when he’s sulking and drowning in regret (and thinking about jean)

for example see i’m your man

also added je te lesserai des mots by patrick watson to the playlist of songs i think kevin would listen to— i think it has a perfect mix of classical and french music