#PLS GIVE ME SOME KINDS OF IMAGE

[drlqra]

i had all and then most of you some and then none of you 😭😭😭😭

fuck it i'm drawing odasaku and dazai angst with that fuckass lyrics i hope y'all suffer

[dollfacefantasy]

Can't Help It

pairing: dbf!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your dad's coworker needs a housesitter, but the house isn't the only thing you'll be sitting on (haha pls laugh)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, oral (m receiving), age gap (i imagine early 20s/late 30s), both reader and leon are kinda pervy but not in a skeevy way <3

word count: 5.3k

a/n: hi hi i am back! this was such a pain to write for no reason, but as always, i hope people enjoy. i'm not sure what trope this really falls under, it's probably more accurate to say dcw (dad's coworker), but we'll go with dbf for convenience. i might make a part 2 of this idk. also, i know the header images are really giving graphic design is my passion but... it is what is lol. as before, thank you for all the support on my last fics. if you reblogged or commented, i'm giving you a smooch rn. and just wanna say that i do take requests. if anyone is interested, don't be shy ;) any who, feedback, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

When your dad’s new coworker asked if you’d be interested in housesitting for some easy money, you couldn’t find a reason to say no. Agent Kennedy, like your father, traveled for work a lot. Often gone for weeks at a time, he needed someone to watch the place and take care of menial tasks like getting the mail and watering the plants. It paid well and all you had to do was basically live in his house.

You had met him several times in passing before he offered you this job, and he was always nice to you. He would say hi when you’d come down for a snack while he talked to your dad in the living room. He’d ask how college was and about the different classes you were taking. One time he even told you about some old band he liked that he thought you would too. And that was all great.

But what was even better was that he was fine as fuck.

You had a fat crush on him from the moment you were introduced. The way his eyes pierced right through you but in the softest way. How his lips curled into a knowing smile while his hand gripped yours in a firm shake. The way he said “pretty name for a pretty girl” when you told him your name. From any other middle-aged man, that would have been so corny and had you internally shriveling up. But from him… you had to fight the urge to get on your knees then and there.

He’d approached you about watching his house, saying something about how there had been some nearby break-ins in empty houses and it would be a good way for you to get some spending money and blah blah blah. You were on board as soon as the opportunity to have more of him in your life presented itself.

Unfortunately, it was the nature of housesitting that you rarely saw your employer. You would see him when you showed up and when he came home and that was it. But those moments were enough to sustain your delusion.

The first time you came over, you walked into the house, glancing around the den of the man who enraptured you. It was pretty basic, but you figured that not being home a lot would be the reason for that. When you were done trying to psychoanalyze him from looking around his house, he gave you your own set of keys with a wink that had you blushing an embarrassing amount.

“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you said softly.

“Call me Leon, Sweetheart,” he replied.

You had to look away to conceal your giddy smile. You didn’t think he noticed the effect he had on you. Or if he did, he didn’t care about your pitiful infatuation. But other times, you could have sworn he did this kind of thing on purpose.

Your first stint in the house went smoothly. You made sure to do everything he asked and even cleaned up the place a little bit. When he returned from wherever his work had taken him that time, he seemed impressed to your delight. He looked around, making small talk with you before writing your check.

“You get up to anything crazy while I was gone?” he said, smirking as he scribbled his signature on the small rectangle.

“Yeah, I was real wild - I brought out your vacuum for probably the first time.”

He laughed, handed you the check, and teasingly purred “good girl.” 

Now, he may have been joking, but your panties nearly soaked through with arousal regardless. You yet again hid your revealing expression as you said a timid goodbye and headed out to your car. You were shifting your thighs together the whole ride home, fantasizing about being a good girl for Agent Kennedy so he would relieve that ache between your legs that clouded your thoughts.

Honestly, all of this made you feel pretty pathetic. Lusting after your father’s coworker, now technically your boss, who was a good fifteen years older than you. Blushing and squirming every time he said something more than ‘hi.’ Weren’t you better than this? But then you’d see those thick biceps and mysterious eyes, and the answer in your mind would be a resounding no.

Because honestly, you weren’t better than this, you were so much worse. After the good girl incident, you decided that if he didn’t want you yet, he would. You would make sure of it. From then on, every time you were housesitting, you wore your most revealing outfits, did your hair all pretty, and even tried special perfume so you’d smell extra nice.

But none of it seemed to work. He kept up his regular teasing and charm, but to your dismay, he hadn’t railed you on that sad leather couch in the living room. You tried to convince yourself that his gazes lingered longer and that his touches were more strategic, but that felt like reach even for you. 

It was so frustrating. What more could you do? You touched his arm while he spoke. You laughed harder at his corny jokes. You even hugged him once or twice when you could justify it. You tried to drop hints every way you could without literally just trying to seduce him, and he did not seem to care. You nearly gave up. You decided that maybe you should just cut your losses and spare yourself the humiliation. Leave yourself with some dignity and resign to just being his housesitter.

You would have done this if not for the fact that he lets you sleep in his bed while he’s gone.

His house was meant for one person. It didn’t have a guest room. He told you on your first gig that you were obviously allowed to sleep in his bed since the alternative was the aforementioned sad leather couch in the living room. He told you to bring whatever you needed to be comfortable - sheets, blankets, pillows - since you’d be there for weeks at a time.

At first, it was too weird. It made you feel dirty, sleeping in his bed while harboring your secret carnal desires. But goddamn, that couch in the living room was uncomfortable. You stuck it out for the first time, but the second time you housesat, you relented and dragged your belongings back to the room you’d forbidden yourself from knowing. 

His bedroom, like the rest of the house, is pretty blank, but there’s a little more personality here. It made you feel like such a stalker, but you couldn’t help making observations, right? You got to see the type of cologne he wore, the few dusty books he kept next to his bed, what kind of stuff he crammed in the nightstand drawers. It sounded creepy, but you just had curiosity, right?

You set yourself up in his queen size bed, draping the plush blanket you brought with you across the mattress. The bed was comfy enough, but the absolute best part, the part that kept your fantasies alive and well, was the way the sheets smelled like him.

You nearly moaned when you took a deep breath, filling your nose with that familiar scent. It gave you such a rush pushing your face into those smooth gray linens. It was so wrong, but you couldn’t help shamefully slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to play with your swollen clit. You clutch the sheets in your fists as you writhe on the bed, whining as you fantasize about your special agent.

Leon had gone years leaving his house desolate without an issue. All that nonsense about potential burglaries and spending money for you had been total bullshit. It’s not like there was anything of value in his house anyway. Those excuses served only as a way to get more of you in his life. He thought housesitting was a happy middleground, a tether to you without being obvious about his motivations.

Ever since he saw you for the first time, heading out your front door, offering a timid ‘nice to meet you,’ he had been hooked. You bewitched him with your sweet temperament, that soft laugh when he told you bad jokes, those gorgeous eyes projecting all the emotions in that pretty head of yours. God, you were so fucking cute.

You made him feel like a dirty old man, sick and perverted for coveting his colleague’s daughter. The embarrassment he felt within himself when he’d notice he was staring at your tits or imagining how your soft lips would look wrapped around his cock was immeasurable. Even though the guilt boiled inside him, he couldn’t stop himself. He craved you. He started finding more opportunities to visit your house, hoping he could steal a few moments of your time. That’s when he knew enough was enough.

Having you as his house sitter worked perfectly. He could have his moments with you without feeling too disgusted with himself. Even though he liked to tease every so often, he kept it friendly. He noticed that you, on the other hand, seemed to be doing everything to change that.

He wasn’t a fool. He could see the changes in your appearance. Those skimpy outfits you’d flaunt yourself in drove him crazy. The way you’d playfully roll your eyes and brush his arm had his cock twitching in his pants. It was becoming all the more tempting to spread you out on the dining table and take what he wanted. But he still wrestled with that part of himself that said to not take it too far. That you deserved better.

That was until you started sleeping in his bed.

He had come home after your second gig, given you your check, and sent you on your way quickly because he was exhausted from his mission. He went straight to his room and collapsed on the bed. He could tell the sheets had been freshly washed by the soft feel, but also because you were always going above and beyond to please him. Despite the recent cleaning, he swore to himself he could smell some of your perfume on them.

He looked like a madman, smelling his bed sheets for the faintest hit of that scent. He groaned, picturing you lying here, your beautiful body sprawled out on his bed. He inhaled deeper while conjuring images of your unkempt hair and sleepy eyes. It wasn’t long until his dick sprung to life as he saw images of you with one of his pillows between your legs, whimpering as you drag your dripping cunt back and forth along the fabric. He couldn’t help the need to desperately pump his cock to sinful visions of his precious girl.

This morning it’s about six when Leon unlocks the front door and quietly walks inside. He completed his mission hours before. He was tired, but it had been short, only about a week, and relatively easy. He told you he would be home in the evening, but he’d finished earlier than expected.

He trudges through the house and down the hall to his bedroom, collapsing in bed at the forefront of his mind. It’s not until he reaches the door and hears your deep breathing that it occurs to him that his bed is currently occupied. He gently pushes the door open and walks in, planning on rousing you so you could get your money and be on your way. When he sees you though, that plan vanishes from his mind.

The sight of you nearly melts him into a puddle. He pads closer to the bed, careful not to disturb you. Your shiny hair is draped across the pillow as you lie on your stomach with one leg hiked up. Your arms rest close to your face, their raised position causing your t-shirt to ride up and allowing him to see your waist. The blanket was tangled between your legs, and his eyes are immediately drawn to the junction of your thighs covered only by those thin panties you wore.

Despite your beauty, he controls himself. He pulls the blanket over your lower body and sits beside you to contemplate his next move. He came up with a few different things he could do, but all he wanted right now was to watch you sleep. He felt like such a creep, but you looked heavenly in this state. His ears strained to hear those delicate exhales coming from your parted lips.

He could just go sleep on the couch until you woke up. He could just wake you up and offer to let you stay until you had your bearings. Or he could just let himself enjoy this a little more.

He wanted to wake you though. He wasn’t fully sure of what he was doing, but if there was any part of you that had reservations he wanted to know. It would rip his heart to shreds if he frightened you somehow. He begins rubbing your back in long soothing strokes. He makes small circles with his fingers every so often. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He continues his ministrations, smiling at your sleeping form. He uses his other hand to brush your hair from your face. He strokes the locks away from your closed eyes before leaning closer to you. He can smell that familiar scent that had driven him to humping the sheets for the last few months.

“Hey Angel, need you to wake up for me,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath fanning across the side of your head.

It slowly registers inside your unconscious mind that you aren’t dreaming. Actual fingers are coasting along your back. An actual voice is coaxing you back to reality.

A low hum emits from your throat as you shift to face the source of your disturbance. Your eyes open, still heavy from sleep, and Leon enters your field of vision. For a second, you wonder if you’re still dreaming.

“There she is,” he whispers, giving you that charming smile. He runs his fingers along your jaw and tilts your chin to turn your face completely in his direction.

You feel your brain malfunctioning as he floods your senses. The morning light coming through the window illuminating him as he looks down at you. The deep timbre of his voice speaking to you. His rough fingertips dragging across the smooth expanse of your cheek.

Soon as your eyes come into focus and your mind clears the fog of sleep a little, you grasp enough of the situation to feel a jolt of panic. It felt like you woke up late for school. You shoot up in bed and look at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Oh my God, Leon, I’m so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t be back until tonight. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just-” you ramble. You go to fling the blanket off of you, but remember you didn’t wear shorts to bed. You have to sit there, looking at him as you feel heat creeping to your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he cuts you off with a quiet chuckle, gently catching your arm when you sit up, “I finished a little early. You don’t need to rush out the door. I figured you’d still be asleep.”

The look in his eyes soothes you. He has that rugged, worn out look that he gets when he comes back from missions. Your heart rate falls back down to normal levels, but your eyes still cast downwards, a little embarrassed he’d caught you unprepared. His fingers trail up and down your arm, and you shift a little to try and hide the fact that your nipples are hardening beneath the flimsy fabric of your shirt.

“Thank you. I’ll be up in a few though. I know you’re probably tired,” you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

He moves so that he’s further on the bed with you. He lays back on the pillows and looks up at you, rubbing your back how he was before you woke up. 

“Mmmm, I am, but you still don’t need to rush. I’m not gonna complain about a sweet thing like you warming my bed,” he says, that teasing smile spreading across his face and his fingers starting to trace patterns exclusively on the small of your back.

Your eyes flit away as your own smile grows on your face. How were you supposed to be normal about this? You look down at your hands in your lap and mutter a thank you.

“Honey, you really don’t need to be so shy all of the sudden,” he says softly, but there’s a smug lilt to his voice as well. You bite your lip as his hand begins fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He can’t help the smirk and predator-like glint in his eyes that form at your reaction. This was it. That little smile and refusal to meet his eyes was all he could stand. He was closing in now. The flirtation between you two had gone on long enough. He wanted this, and if you wanted it too, his mind couldn’t find a reason to deny the two of you any longer.

“Sweetheart, if you have something to tell me, you can come out and say it. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he says as he reaches up to pull your hair behind your shoulder and out of your face, “And, lately I’m starting to think that’s what you want.”

You look over to him now, your eyes staring into his. Your limbs feel weak, disbelief coursing through your veins. Your thoughts stampede through your mind, but you eventually force the words from your throat.

“I think I want that too,” you breathe. Your heart seizes at his brows playfully rising. You lay down on the bed, resting on your side so that you and Leon are face to face. Your pulse thunders in your ears while you try to conceal how shaky your breathing is.

He scooches over to you, pushing you on to your back and propping himself on his elbow so he’s positioned above you. He leans down and presses two faint kisses to your cheeks. Pulling back, he looks into your eyes and strokes your cheek again with the same soft and slow movements.

“Think, babydoll? I think you know what you want,” he whispers, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip, “I think you’ve known for a while. Wearing all those cute little outfits, prancing through my house and brushing against me like a kitten. You were just begging for my attention.”

You squirm slightly under the spotlight of his affection. Somehow, you maintain eye contact even though every cell in you feels the urge to look away. Part of your mind wonders if he’s still teasing. If he’s about to pull away and leave you wanting.

Before you could overthink anymore, his head lowers to the crook of your neck. He takes a deep breath of you as he moves himself further on top. 

“Now, you’ve got it, but all you had to do, sweet thing, was ask,” he says as his mouth ghosts over your neck, “That’s all you have to do right now. Just want to hear that you want me as bad as I want you.”

“Yes,” you whimper without a second thought, “Please touch me.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums as he begins kissing your neck. The kisses are soft. They’re barely there, but they’re overwhelming to you. You can’t help the pathetic sound that leaves your lips as you tilt your head back. The hand that had been touching your face trails down to your waist and begins caressing your side under your shirt.

His tongue gently laps against the skin of your neck between kisses. Your whole body is starting to heat up while simultaneously getting chills. Every inch of you aches for his touch. Your thighs subconsciously spread as your breathing becomes heavier.

Leon lets out a small laugh at your display. “You must really want this Baby. Just a few kisses and rubs and you’re already mine,” he murmurs as his lips move up your neck and down your jaw. He kisses your lips next, giving your bottom lip a little nip.

Another needy sound escapes your mouth. You return the kiss and flick your tongue against his lips. “I do, wanted this since I met you,” you moan, your body writhing for more.

“Naughty girl,” he teases against your lips, “That’s okay though, Angel. I’m the same way. Wanted a handful of these pretty tits since I saw you.” His hand moves up and kneads your breast. His fingers massage the flesh before centering and pinching your nipple. 

You whine and arch into his touch. Your eyes flutter as your face contorts with desire. He slides over you, straddling your waist. He stares down at you and takes in what was finally in his grasp. He coos for you to sit up a little while he pulls your shirt off of you. You comply and then flop back against the pillows. Now exposed from the waist up, his eyes feel even more intense. He’s locked on to the view of your tits.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he mutters, “Even better than I imagined.” His hands cup the sides of your breasts, groping them a bit. You can now see his cock beginning to strain against his jeans. Your mouth waters at the sight, but it’s gone when he leans down to take a nipple into his mouth.

His tongue circles the peak before lapping against it, drawing more whines from you. Your body arches into his touch while his hands never let up their fondling. You take your lip between your teeth again. He moves to give the other nipple the same treatment, leaving the other one cold as the air touches the saliva-coated skin.

He plays with your breasts for a while more before drifting down your abdomen, lavishing your stomach with kisses. He squeezes your waist as he playfully tugs the hem of your panties with his teeth. He looks up at you deviously. “Your nipples were so hard, I bet your pussy’s fucking soaked for me.”

All you can do is nod, any verbal response tangled up in your esophagus. He leans back on his knees and swiftly pulls the garment off. His pupils seem blown out as he gets a look at your cunt. He pushes your thighs to your stomach, spreading you out for his gaze. You felt so exposed, at his mercy as he held you there and just looked at you. Your arms reach down and pull at the hem of his shirt.

“Wanna see you too,” you whimper with pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he says with a soft smile. He leans back and pulls his shirt off. It takes everything in you to hold back a gasp. “Been fantasizing about me, have you?”

Your eyes rake along his chiseled abdomen, drinking in every line and shadow of his muscular frame. You reach out and pull him back on top of you. His grin grows, and he indulges you. You connect your mouths again, this time sliding your tongue inside his. He groans at your sudden eagerness. He runs his hand through your hair while you feel up his back, exploring the definition there.

You give him a little push, signaling that you want to roll over. His body flips over and takes you with him so that you’re positioned how you wanted. You make out for a minute more until you pull back, looking at him with your lustful eyes and swollen lips.

“Wanna suck your cock,” you say simply, sliding down his body so that you’re lying between his legs. You nuzzle against the bulge in his pants before unzipping them and tugging them down.

His eyes follow your every movement. He pets your head as you rub your face against the outline of his dick. He tilts his head back and lets out a sigh. 

“That’s a good girl, just gotta give you some love and then you loosen up, don’t you?” he coos.

“Mhm,” you hum. You kiss his solid length over the cloth of his boxers. Then, finally, what you had been waiting for since meeting Leon. You loop your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and pull them down, unveiling his beautiful cock.

You wrap your fingers around it, just an exploratory touch. You feel the veins in your hold and the heat radiating from his shaft. You slowly bring your head to the tip to give him some tiny licks. Your eyes dart to his face, looking for approval.

Leon’s chest ached from the way you were looking at him like he was a god. When your tongue sticks out and your eyes return his stare, he nods at you and keeps stroking your hair. Your lips soon wrap around the tip, and you bob your head a little. He groans and his hips twitch.

“That’s a good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he moans as your head slides further down his member. His fingers lace through your hair, pulling a little.

The praise only makes you more enthusiastic. You move up and down with more speed, making lewd slurping noises as you work. His hand on your head and his sounds of pleasure has heat collecting in your belly, leaking out of your dripping pussy.

His head rests against the head board as he watches you with half-open eyes. His eyes squeeze shut and his body tenses as you push your head all the way down, taking him into your throat. Spit trickles from your mouth and drips on to his pelvis.

“Fuck, Sweetheart,” he whimpers, tugging on your hair a little. You taste his pre cum leaking on your tongue. A gagging noise comes from you and his hips twitch harder. He barely restrains himself from bucking up and lodging himself deeper in your throat. You moan around his cock, driving him even crazier. He feels the rush of an orgasm approaching and tugs your hair with more firmness, guiding your head up and off his lap. You whine softly as you lose the taste of him.

“Sorry, pretty girl, don’t wanna cum just yet,” he says.

You crawl back up his body, so you’re in his arms again. You kiss his cheeks and the corners of his mouth as he rolls the two of you over so he’s on top again. He connects your lips in a deep kiss, tasting himself on you as he drags the tip of his cock through your slippery folds.

He doesn’t tease for long though. Soon enough, he’s pushing himself into your tight cunt. You both let out a symphony of sinful noises. Leon watches as your face contorts with pleasure as he stretches you out. You both felt a budding sense of satisfaction after finally receiving what you craved for the last several months.

He bottoms out inside of you. His head falls forward against your neck. He pants as he holds himself together and lets you adjust, keeping an iron grip on your hips. Your fluttering around him as you accommodate his girth. Your nails lightly dig into his back while you cling to him.

He begins thrusting with slow and deep strokes. You moan out his name a few times with a variety of expletives. He keeps his face buried in your neck, grunting as he feels the velvety sensation of your walls around his length. His motions become more fluid as he finds a rhythm with you.

“That’s right Angel, better than your dreams?” he murmurs against your neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you whimper, “So much better. Think your cock was made for me.”

“That so, Baby? I’m made to fill up a precious girl like you? Keep you happy and full of cum,” he growls into your neck, his thrusts gaining intensity.

You nod thoughtlessly as he continues battering your insides, gliding over your sweet spot repeatedly.Your arms wrap tighter around him as you feel yourself getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your noises become more strained as Leon lays sloppy kisses on the side of your head.

He hooks his arms underneath your knees and brings your thighs up to your abdomen again. His arm loops around and thumbs your clit as he slams himself in and out. Your back arches and you squirm from the rush of white hot pleasure. You’re right there, not able to hold on for much longer.

“I’m gonna have you so full of my cum today, it’s gonna be dripping out of you still the next time you’re here,” he grunts into your ear, “Make sure your pussy remembers me till I can fill her again.”

His vulgar words rip a high pitched moan from your throat and cause your eyes to roll back. “Fuck, Leon, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Squeeze me nice and tight,” he moans, his own voice getting strained.

You do as he says. The orgasm overtakes you. You release a strangled cry as your body rhythmically rolls into the feeling. Your pussy clamps around Leon tight, sucking him deep and keeping the attention on that blissful spot. The thrill of satisfaction rushing through your mind only works you further. Your eyes flutter and your lips part as you completely let go.

As he watches you cum, he notes that it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The sight of your gorgeous body writhing and trembling because of him. The primal sounds of your moans and cries. It’s too much for him. He growls and grunts into your neck, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He snaps even harder into you and floods you with his sticky, hot cum.

You both ride the waves of euphoria together until you both start coming down. He basically collapses on you as he catches his breath and you wipe the sweat from your brow. After a minute, he pushes himself off of you and flat on to the bed next to you. He gazes at the ceiling as his chest continues to rise and fall with the need for more oxygen.

You sit up slowly, realizing he probably wants you gone now. Like he said, you feel his cum leaking out of you as you move to grab your panties from the corner of his bed. This is how you expected it to be, but it still hurt a little. Nothing you couldn’t handle though. Your pulling them back on when your snapped out of your thoughts by Leon’s arm around your waist, dragging you to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks teasingly, spooning you and softly kissing beneath your ear, “You got what you wanted and now you’re running out?”

“Oh, uhhh… I thought you’d want me to leave,” you say quietly.

He guides your face so you’re looking at him. His eyes are still soft but more serious. “You think I would just fuck you and then throw you out on your ass? You’ve been sleeping in my bed for months, but you don’t know me as well as you think,” he says and kisses your nose, “You don’t have anywhere to be today, yeah? You thought you’d be here till later anyway.”

You nod in agreement, your eyes casting down with some embarrassment over your assumption.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me now. There’s no reason for it,” he teases, “We have all day for me to show you how I want to take care of you. Just give me a moment, I’m not as young as I use to be.”

[driftbit]

Made during the fantastic @mcyt-jukebox-bonanza for Oh No :: He Said What? by Nothing But Thieves. I have a whole AU I want to write in my brain which I'm gonna brain dump below. :] I might write it eventually. once I'm not in four different events at once. @-@

Okay SO. It's set in a cyberpunk-y city where megacorporations own everything and it Sucks for most people. But not for Joel! He's some kind of influencer/maybe a solo singer/artist act and he works for one specific talent agency. He's really well known, and kind of their main Face. Etho is an android at the same company who is half Joel's assistant, half rat to the upper administration board. The reason why he's an android is because that means he doesn't need sleep or food, so whenever he's not in Active Assistant mode, he's basically scouring the web to make sure that Joel's image is Perfect. One night, he ends up coming across a post that's a video someone took of Joel where Joel is basically BASHING the company he works for and lowkey admirers; it's really Typical Joel Trash Talk, but it's started to really tick some people off. He's saying that the company/fans would be nothing without him, they wouldn't be successful or anything were it not for his talent. Naturally, Etho has to report it to the higher ups, who aren't pleased that Joel is shit talking them and being like, they're nothing without me etc etc. So the managers order for Etho to Take Care Of Joel. Problem: they're not specific with what this means, though, and Etho Genuinely isn't sure if they're asking him to straight up kill Joel or to just take him out of the public eye for a bit. Etho opts to start with the latter since that'll give him time to mull over what he should do, and they go on a little Road Trip.

Eventually Joel ends up seeing himself from an outside perspective while on the trip through different newscasts and strangers' reactions, and realizes how Bad this all looks once he's out in the middle of nowhere, outside of his cushy life, seeing how Normal People live and are effected by capitalism. And only then slowly does he realize Etho took him out of the spotlight on purpose; Etho might have been asked to Make Him Go Away. In my head the whole fic ends on a cliffhanger of literally Joel begging Etho not to kill him and Etho Finally feeling prepared emotionally to do it. :]

Also, since you've made it all the way through my ranting, pls check out this live version of Oh No :: He Said What? IMO it's even better than the original recording. Beefy ass bassline.

[blockedbykei]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?

— synopsis: kageyama always had one agenda in his life: volleyball. it just so happens that you seemed to challenge him even more than the sport has ever done in his life.

— warnings: (this chapter) awkward kageyama, sucks at feelings. frenemies to lovers, a little angst bc kageyama's about to relapse lol pls don't attack me also i don't know how the academic system works in japan

— parts: i, ii, iii, iv

ii; love thorns all over this rose

kageyama is awake thirty minutes before his alarm rings.

and in those thirty minutes, he spends it like he usually does— planning.

and with a little bit of spice, reminiscing.

"they'll pay you," he said on the phone. he had sensed your relief despite your silence on the other side.

"thank god." you sighed. "okay dude, i gotta be honest with you. i'm only using this opportunity as some kind of job starter, 'kay? i won't be permanent. so don't get your hopes up."

"i won't be too hopeful on you." he deadpanned. a little too honest, to upfront, maybe brought up by buried pain. kageyama shook the thought. "when can you start?"

"anytime you want me to start, tobio-chan." you beamed. he heard ruffling in the background, and the familiar sound of keys jingling. "except today though. i have some paperwork to do. will tomorrow be okay?"

"okay."

that was yesterday, at 4:13pm. it was now 5:30 in the morning.

and it seems like you were awake too.

kageyama jumps at the sound of his phone vibrating against his wooden bedside table. he pushes the covers off his body, pushing himself up to sit against the bed frame before unplugging his phone off his cable.

you. u up? wanna jog around? 5:32am

he doesn't hesitate to reply.

kageyama. Sure. 5:32am

—

to his fortune, your apartment was near his home. so the idea of jogging around was easily fulfilled as his legs are now being warmed up outside the entrance of your building.

kageyama is a little eager to see you at this time in the morning, a rush of excitement adding a bounce on his heels. and he only waits for five minutes until he sees you exit the elevator in your sports attire.

jacket and leggings. same as his, except he wore sweatpants.

your hair is tied up messily, strands of hair above your head uncombed and bumpy. you walk towards him and give him a smile, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.

he thinks that image of you will stay plastered on his mind.

"ready to go, tobio?"

he looks at you, foot pressed on a bench. his fingers tie his laces as he stares at you.

kageyama was always a man of few words, and you'd learned how to read him through his eyes and body language alone. his stare may seem blank to others, but you read it as "yes, i'm ready."

and he says it either way. "yes"

—

"so what exactly is it that i'm supposed to do?"

you've matched his pace, or maybe he's slowed down to jog by your side, or maybe he's just slow and you're a bit faster than him. either way, you're happy to be in the same speed, enough so that you can talk to him without having a hard time.

kageyama hums. "uh. you will be like my life coach?"

"what the fuck is a life coach?" you grimace.

"i don't know either." his breath is white past his lips from the cold air, sparing you a quick glance. "i just think i'm too obsessed with volleyball that i kind of... don't have a life outside of it."

"i thought volleyball was your life."

"it is. until i became an adult." he swallows thickly. "when i'm not on the court, i'm in my classes. when i'm not in my classes and the court's not open i... i don't do anything. i think i'm a boring person."

"so you're like a loser?"

kageyama sighs dejectedly. "yeah."

"and you want me to make you more, what, interesting?"

"yeah."

"and i'm getting paid to do this?"

"yeah."

"i'm getting paid to teach you how to get a life," you guffaw, small pants leaving your mouth as you do so. "i never thought i'd be doing that after three years. holy shit, tobio-chan."

kageyama pouts. "do you find joy over the fact that i'm a loser?"

"oh yes," you shake your head, a smile on your face. "i do enjoy that."

you both stop after ten minutes, deciding to take a break by sitting on the bench. you place your feet on the space beside kageyama, bringing it to your chest, facing him. he tilts his head up and swallows the water rapidly as if he'd been parched since the dawn of time.

he wipes his sweat off his forehead, his biceps contracting, hair sticking to his skin. you blush at the sight.

"so what do you want to try doing?" you ask him, tugging on your sleeves.

kageyama shrugs. "how to not be too obsessed with volleyball."

"okay genius," you roll your eyes. "i meant do you want to learn how to ride a bike? how to paint? to swim?"

"i know how to ride a bike," then he pauses, looking down at the tips of your shoes grazing his thigh. he scratches his chin. "i wanna learn how to swim."

you scrunch your nose. "did you even attend the swimming classes back in high school?"

"no."

"god, tobio," you laugh through your nose. "where were you? hiding in the gym?"

"i was with you inside the janitor's closet remember?"

your smile fades a little, pulling your feet closer to yourself. and then you look away from him.

"so i'm teaching you how to swim then." kageyama wishes you'd look at him again, take your eyes off from whatever you're staring at and plant them on him instead. "i might push you into the deep part of the pool, then i remembered you're tall so you could just stand. unless i put a rock on you..."

"do i need to list it down?" he asks, and you look at him. your eyes seemed duller than earlier. he almost winces. "all the things you're going to teach me?"

"hm," you scoot closer. your arms rest on top of your knees, your chin resting on top of your left forearm. "first, you're gonna get a manicure with me. that'll be tomorrow because i want one."

"okay."

"then we're gonna do yoga," you beam. "so you could relax. you're always so tense."

kageyama pulls his phone app, and you assume he's opening the notes app. "okay."

"swimming. then skydiving. camping. joining those bike marathon thingies. oh! pottery. i think you'd like pottery."

"do we really have to do skydiving?" he shivers a little; partly from the cold, partly from the image of falling from the sky with the chance of dying. "i don't think that's a hobby that will help me with volleyball. i think that would just make me want to stay on the court."

you roll your eyes. "whatever. add cooking. unless you already know how to."

"just a little."

"add cooking."

his fingers type on the letters, the click-clacks emitting from his phone mingling with the soft breeze's gentle whisper. "anything else?"

"i kinda wanna keep the others a surprise." you smile, flashing him a bit of your teeth between your lips. the wisps of your hair fall on your cheeks, and your eyes almost smile at him. "done taking a break? i wanna run again."

kageyama stands up, putting his phone on his pocket. you kick your feet off the bench and place them on the ground, stretching your arms.

you start before he does. he feels a thread of nervousness coursing through his veins, tying it around each tendril. there's doubt knocking on his head telling him that at some point of this "life-coaching" of yours would eventually fuck up whatever it is that you have now.

he wouldn't want to fuck up twice.

his feet jogs himself up at your pace, his heart twinging at the smile you give him.

—

september 2014

senior year meant mandatory swim classes. which meant that kageyama would skip class for the 63rd time since his freshman year.

the table was jovial with excitement, albeit it seems that tsukishima was voicing the similar disdain towards swimming. "getting dressed in front of you guys is enough." he reasoned.

hinata and yamaguchi beam in excitement, mostly because they both knew they would be given free time to play around the pool. and since the boys and girls were separated, you and yachi made a silent vow to stick with one another.

"tobio," you placed your hand on his shoulder. he jumped out of his daze, food in mouth, his head turning to look at you, and you debate on telling him to stop looking at you like that, because while a second ago he seemed horrified, now he looked at you like you'd given him a miracle to be saved. "you alright?"

"yes." his head nodded, putting another broccoli in his occupied mouth. "i don't want to go swimming."

"me neither," you giggled. your hand was still on his shoulder, burning onto his uniform and seeping through his skin. kageyama fought hard not to blush. "i promised yachi though, so. please don't skip."

"okay." okay, i'll still skip.

"kageyama," hinata bumped his shoulder. "let's race to see who swims fastest."

"i don't want to, dumbass," kageyama snarled. "i want to eat lunch. let's see who gets to finish first."

their petulance had always interested you. their relationship would always trick people into thinking they despised one another, but no one ever really saw their true bond and how close they were. you laughed at the way they would swallow their food directly and at the way yachi had begin to voice her concern on choking and something about the heimlich maneuver.

in front of you, yamaguchi and tsukishima's slowly blooming ("platonic" they said, defending) relationship seemed to quietly berate the two.

later that day, you'd lost yachi with your other classmates right after you ascend from the pool. you quickly got yourself dressed, hair dripping wet and leaving streaks of water down the back of your blouse, and searched for her.

you found yourself inside the gym five minutes later, seeing that the doors were unlocked. but when you peeked, the sight of her bright blonde hair was nowhere to be seen.

a muffled cluttering sound startled you.

"hello?"

your voice echoed in the empty gym.

"(y/n)?"

kageyama's nervousness rang at every corner of the gymnasium. you saw him peek his head out from the closet, eyes wide. you furrowed your eyebrows.

"what the fuck are you doing there?" you asked hastily, walking towards him. "you're supposed to be at the pool—"

he yanked you towards him, inside the closet and closing the door behind him. it hadn't registered to you that kageyama began hearing footsteps approaching the gym and it put his heart at an alarming rate. your mouth snapped shut, hiding behind his body, your hair leaving droplets on his uniform.

then there's muffled conversation, a few laughs, a tone that mimicked questioning, and then you heard the doors slam shut. you froze.

"how are we going to get out?" you panicked, voice small and a whisper, even though you're certain that a normal volume would've sufficed.

"calm down," he scowled. "i have the keys with me. how'd you think i got in here in the first place?"

he pulled the keys out and twirled them in his finger. relief defeats the panic that settled on your face, though a smile never rose out of you. but it was enough for kageyama to reassure you. he walked to you, resting his back against one of the shelves beside you, keeping a distance that could've looked like he wasn't giving you any sort of distance at all.

"what are you doing here?" he asked, arms crossed. you took the keys off his hands, clutching it in your fist, and couldn't help yourself but sneer at him.

"you said you'd go to the class."

"i only said okay, doesn't mean i'm agreeing."

you gawped. "that is agreeing!"

"you didn't answer my question." he instilled. "what are you doing here?"

you scratched the back of your neck, fingertips dampened from your slowly drying hair, chlorine and faint conditioner evident through the scent. "i lost yachi. i thought she could be here 'cause the doors were open."

he showed his acknowledgement through a hum, no words leaving him. you sighed and approached the door, twisting the doorknob and peaked through the small slit you created.

"i should probably go," you said, looking back at him. "we should probably go."

you give him a stern look, vexated at his lie. kageyama pushed himself off the shelf, walking towards you, and you thought that maybe he'd decided to follow your orders, but instead his arm reaches out to pull the door close.

the brightness from the outside is only evident through the cracks beneath and between the doors, the only light in the dark room. kageyama stood in front of you, both of you leaning your bodies against the metal door.

your heart beated a little faster, the sound reverberating in your ears. you hope he doesn't hear how fast it gets with the way he slowly leaned closer to you, his head tilted just the slighesg, hair falling just above his eyebrows.

his eyes are dark, but there's a little shine at the edge of his irises, his gaze soft. his lips are parted the slightest, tongue coming out to gloss the dried skin. you swallow thickly.

it felt too oddly intimate to be in a situation like this with a friend you've known since the beginning of junior high. and you wondered if it was inappropriate of you to blush wildly; if it was disrespectful of you to want to tiptoe the edge of your friendship just because you're in a closet with him hiding as if you'd both be shot dead and you're enjoying the last, quiet moments together.

you knew you've never seen him as more than a friend. at least, that was what you've manipulated yourself to think. you convinced your excitement to see him as a way to be excited to start your day. you tell yourself you're concerned for his safety because you worry his sister would eat you up if he'd gotten hurt without you rather than because you wouldn't want him to get hurt in general.

you forced him to take breaks from volleyball because you poke fun at his lack of social life, not because you worry he may drive himself away from you from his over enthusiasm and passion.

you do not feel lovesick over kageyama.

and he thought that the look on your face— surprised, blushing, wide eyed— was the most endearing sight out of all endearing sights. the corner of his lip tugs upward, his teeth beginning to poke out of his awkward smile.

"we don't have classes right after," he reasoned. "we could stay here for a few more minutes."

"you-" you point your finger to his chest, nail digging on his shirt and onto his thick skin. "-have practice. i have a student council meeting and volleyball training at the local court, thanks to your fucking greedy asses, by the way. both of which will start in like-... uh...-"

"seven minutes." he cocked a brow. "let's stay here until then."

so you did.

you sat on the floor and ate the snacks he had on his bag, cross legged, on opposite sides. you started the conversation by asking when the nationals were, and that if it fit right into your schedule, you could bring the student council to up the level of the cheerleading team for karasuno. kageyama beamed at your offer.

your phone lit up, a notification bar on the screen, and he knew what your wallpaper was– it was the six of you, on one of the carnivals last june, on the ferris wheel that showed hinata yelling out the edge, tsukishima gripping on the sides for his dear life, yachi and yamaguchi laughing at the chaos they ensued;

you, holding the phone up, with kageyama beside you, smiling with his eyes set on your laughing figure.

he saw the way your eyes lingered on the screen for a moment before you tapped on the text, screen brightening, your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

"who's that?" he asked, curiosity undecided if he should be jealous (and deny it) or be relieved.

"kuroo-san," you said. "he's inviting you guys to play at nekoma next week. says he and the old team are visiting to check out the new team, and he thought it would be great if you guys fought with them again...? what...?"

"why is he texting you, though?" he shoves a hello panda in his mouth. "shouldn't he text yachi? or literally anyone else."

"i don't think he has her number."

"why does he have your number?"

"because hinata gave it to him."

he swore to murder him after 7 minutes.

"i'll tell them," he said, forced to give you a smile; forced to hide the distaste on his tongue at the thought of kuroo sending you a text. "you gonna come?"

"maybe, i could play, too, bring my team so we could finally play at a court where we wouldn't have to share with kids." you scowl at him. "can you impress me for a hundredth time?"

he'd take that chance at any given moment.

—

kageyama finds himself on the court again after your jog. the cold air still fresh on his damp skin, the sound of your voice still evident even if you'd already left almost an hour ago to meet up with your team one last time.

"so, how'd it go?"

hinata plays with the ball on the other side of the court, bouncing it between the floor and his palm. kageyama shrugs, placing his towel on top of his gym bag.

"she said we'll start tomorrow," he answers, walking towards the net, fingers poking through the square slots. "i'm nervous about this."

"i think it's a big mistake." hinata blurts out, his hand immediately covering his mouth. his wide eyes do nothing but start the fuse in kageyama's temper.

"what do you mean it's a big mistake?" he ducks between the net, towering over his shaking friend, who walks backwards and shoots him an ever nervous grin.

"i'm just saying– i mean well, we've talked here and then, and she hasn't exactly– dude, you're scaring me–"

kageyama stops in his tracks, sighing heavily with a hand on his forehead. "exactly what, hinata?"

his friend shakes his arms, snapping them. his right hand comes up to his left and rotates it, looking at kageyama like he hadn't scared him beforehand. "she hasn't exactly forgotten about what you did, you know. i mean its nice of you to take the chance and make up for what you did, but if you ever fuck up again, i don't think she'll be as forgiving as last time."

"i won't fuck up." he scowls, going back to his side.

"and if she finds out you only did this to keep her from getting that job with kuroo-san?"

kageyama places his hands on his hips, looking up yo the ceiling. it was high; the lights a bit blinding, the basketball hoop folded upwards to keep out of the way from high serves. his eyes close and counts to three, until he feels his nerves calm down, before looking back at hinata.

"has he mentioned it to her?"

"i don't think he has." hinata says. "i don't think he's forgotten, either."

"okay."

"kageyama," he begins, looking at him warningly. "if she finds out you're only doing this so that you won't lose her– so that she'd be here with you, she's not going to like it."

"i know that."

"then stop whatever it is that you're doing!"

"whatever, man! i'm doing her a favor," he spins the ball in his palm, squishing it with the other. kageyama glares at his orange hair, not at his eyes– because he doesn't want to actually make him feel that he was mad at him. "she said she quit because she didn't want to be associated with volleyball anymore. kuroo's offer is associated with volleyba-"

"an offer is an offer, kageyama, it's her decision to decline it or not," hinata sighs. "don't confuse her. don't make her fall again. don't make things even more complicated than it already is."

kageyama feels the gasoline inside him about to burst, his eyebrows furrowing further, scowl deepening. he throws the ball into the air, and jumps at the right time to serve. hinata, thrown off guard, ducks and covers his head with his hands as the ball hits the wall behind him.

hinata looks back at him with wide eyed anger. "you- you jerk!"

he runs to him, diving beneath the net to tackle his legs. kageyama falls to his back, his yell echoing, wrapping his legs around hinata's neck.

his anger, albeit predictable, is rooted on something he can't identify. he knows he's mad at hinata, but he also knows it's not exactly the actual cause. there's a deep set of guilt planted in him that coalesces with the anger he decides to displace on others. maybe it's because he knows that hinata's right— that the offer kuroo was supposed to propose was yours to accept or decline; it wasn't his position to keep you from doing so.

but at the same time, he knows that if he hadn't done anything— even if he could— to keep you here, with him, while he's slowly easing the pain he'd caused you, he would die with the regret he'd feel. and even so, he would do anything to get you back.

so at the feeling of his head meeting the floor, kageyama is snapped into a dilemma of morals and deluded wants. hinata pins him to the ground, knees on either side of his hips, looking disappointedly down on his heaving friend.

"we haven't fought this hard since freshman year," he laughs tiredly. "she's my friend, kageyama. and you're my friend either. i don't want you both to be hurt to the point where it affects all of us. i was honestly surprised that she was able to act normally after the shit you pulled. she was that afraid to lose you."

hinata pushes himself off him, offering his hand to kageyama. he takes it, pulling him off the ground. "please don't tell her."

kageyama could see him contemplate. he knows how easy hinata is to control under pressure, most especially if it included his guilty conscience in honor of a friend— he can't bring himself to lie. he was never a liar at the expense of someone.

but if it was something he had to do for the people that he cared for...

"okay," he says in his pleading gaze. "i can keep quiet. but i don't know when kuroo will bring this up to her. she'll find out eventually."

"i'll tell her myself."

—

after spending five hours in relishing the exhilarating thrill of spiking a ball across the court, his free training is cut "short" when his phone begins to ring.

doused in sweat, he walks to the bench where his bag resides. hinata plops down to the ground, elbows on his knees, panting. kageyama picks up his phone and sees your icon—

in a small circle, with a smile, in the karasuno uniform with your hair in a ponytail. he does not remember the day the picture was taken nor what the event was, but he swears he's had the same icon of yours since high school, even after he'd switched the phone.

he clicks the green telephone button.

"hello?"

"are you at the court?" there's a busy crowd behind you. you sound uncomfortable.

"no."

"don't lie."

"yes."

you laugh, he blushes. "okay. can i come there if it's okay? we've got matters to discuss."

he says yes and you're there 20 minutes later. you discard the thick coat off your shoulders, revealing something that looked too comfortable to be considered as casual— literally a large shirt and sweatpants.

"ey, (y/n)!" hinata comes up to give you a one-armed hug, trying not to get you wet with his sweat. you smile at him, sitting down on the bench beside kageyama's bag.

"hey, sho-chan." you beam. "mind if i'm here for a short while?"

"i don't mind if you stayed here until midnight." he laughs, sitting down crossed legged in front of you on the floor. kageyama sits on the same bench, his bag dividing the two of you.

"so what's up?" he wipes his face with a towel. do players actually sweat this much?

"so i got a call from your management," you begin, taking your phone out and opening your notes app. "i took in minutes of the meeting as a habit. anyway, so your pr manager told me that we can't exactly be seen together all the time unless we want people to think that we're dating. yuck."

the emphasis on your yuck makes him laugh out the pain.

"anyway, so she said we can't do whatever it is that you want all the time. we either have to do it with your friends, the two of us on a very private area, or just you alone." you explain. "so i decided to, like, create a list of all the things we should do. and i also need you to sign this contract because i'm not doing this forever."

a soft copied contract he assumes is sent by his management is displayed on your phone as you hand it to him. you zoom in on his name, types in capital letters beneath a line where his digital signature is to be placed. with a shaky finger, he writes his signature.

you stutter. "you- you didn't even read it."

"i don't want to."

"you have to," you roll your eyes. "okay so, your management says that i have to do this life-coaching shit of yours only until your next big match."

"which is in a few months." hinata butts in, a granola bar in hand.

a few months. he has a few months with you.

a few months of making up for the damage he caused. a few months to change the way you act around him. a few months to keep you with him. kageyama doesn't know what happens after then— maybe you'd already found out the offer kuroo ought to give you, and maybe you'd take it with no hesitation, leaving him behind.

the stress of lying catches up with the way his stomach twists and his tongue loses its taste. the hollow feeling of nervousness emits from the way his palms begin to sweat. he feels pressured to plan already— to figure out what to do right after the contract ends; what to say when you found out he interfered with a major opportunity.

"yeah. so. i also can't interfere nor be the cause of your downfall in volleyball or they will sue me." you bite your bottom lip. "is that even possible? like, defamation?"

"what's defamation?" kageyama asks, fingertips fiddling with the cap of his waterbottle. you huff.

"it's by ruining one's reputation by creating false statements. i'd do that if you piss me off," you jest, going back to your phone and scrolling. kageyama thinks of it as a real threat. "anyway, so i will have to ask your teammates or friends to come join us for the following weeks, although i do prefer if you also do it."

he frowns. "why me?"

"because you hired me and it's also your job to be less of a pain in the ass," you poke the space between his eyebrows. he groans, grasping your wrist and pull it down from his face.

hinata's eyes narrow at the sight of two tinted cheeks.

you break free from him. "i'll be sending you the list tomorrow. i'll get going now."

kageyama stops you from slinging your bag over your shoulder, a hand on one of the straps. "how'd you get here?"

you make a confused face. "uh. by bus?"

"let me drive you home."

"i'm fine, tobio," you laugh lightly, standing up, adjusting the strap on your shoulder. "it's only one bus ride. plus, i don't think hinata's done with practicing yet—"

"we're done!" hinata claps his shoulder, squeezing it, tight enough to make him uncomfortable. kageyama glares at him through his peripherals. "it's fine. i'll close up."

it's gotten to the point where hinata had pushed the both of you off outside the court and into the parking lot.

kageyama almost feels desolated— the silence caused by confusion almost deemed you a ghost, thus making him feel like he was lost in a very crowded parking lot. but when you nudge his shoulder, and the look on your face was replaced with a small smile, he takes his keys out of the pocket of his gym bag, his car beeping not too far.

you sit on the passenger side, quickly buckling your seat belt and dropping your bag on your lap. kageyama shuts the door and sticks the key in the ignition, a random song on the radio playing as it lights up blue.

no one says a word during the drive.

you can sense the tension was brought by thoughts that are wanted to be shared but never spoken. something about the past— the past you'd tried to forgotten; the past kageyama was trying to mend. it was not because of the sudden professional relationship created by the both of you.

(it actually also was that.)

the ride was short— maybe five songs had passed and three ad breaks. he parks just at the side, where he wouldn't be told off, and you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"thanks for the ride," you say, finally. he sucks in a breath of relief.

"no problem." and just when you're about to reach out and leave, he puts his hand on your wrist again. you stop on your movements, looking back at him over your shoulder.

"is something the matter?"

"why'd you take it?" kageyama asks, his hand still on your wrist. you blink at him, sitting back down and resting your back on the car seat. but his hand now hovers over your burning skin.

your eyebrows furrow. "what do you mean?"

"why'd you take the job if it sounded stupid?"

you look into his eyes. kageyama looked unsure— almost in disbelief. he seems to be doubting you at this moment which almost brings a scoff out of you. his bottom lip is quickly bitten, a habit of anxiousness.

"i told you– it's a starter job. it's not easy to get a job while i'm still in college. i kinda need the money as soon as possible too, y'know? i'm not exactly a pro athlete so i don't get paid—"

"why are you helping me?" he urges. kageyama leans over the transmission, a hand on the wheel. his elbow is placed on the shoulder of your seat, and he's unbelievably close to you that you feel his hot breath. "you could've taken a job at a cafe. tsukishima could've helped you with it. or yachi-san. so why did you accept my last minute offer?"

it was like he was searching for a reason for your sudden acceptance at an incredulous offer for a job that he made up. he wanted to know the reason behind it— maybe something that could get his hopes up on fixing a relationship that's barely even there; something that could feed on his nightly routine of delusions about you and what could have been.

your eyes flicker between his. kageyama has always had intense eyes. too intense that you can't decipher what he's actually feeling sometimes. but even so, they're the only ones you're forcing yourself to look at— because he's so close. there's barely any friendly proximity between the two of you. you're afraid of glancing down his lips to avoid any miscommunication; you don't look at anywhere else because you don't want to seem shy.

your heart starts to beat faster. you curse it.

"because you're my friend," you murmur. "and i'm actually concerned about your obsession with volleyball."

kageyama leans back just the slightest, but you can still feel his heat.

"i've always wanted to help you lessen your obsession since high school, y'know? at least this time i'm– i'm getting paid."

"you still want to help me even after—"

"i don't want to talk about it, kageyama."

it seems as if you knew what he was going to say. the sudden use of his surname, the softness that immediately hardened at the memory flashing in your mind; the guard you instantly put up. kageyama's heart twinges, leaning back on his seat.

he expects you to leave him and slam the door, watching you walk towards your building.

instead, he feels your hand on his.

your hand on his.

his head snaps to you, twitching slightly. your fingers squeeze the back of his hand a little, offering him a sad smile.

"i care for you," you say. "i hope you don't abuse it again."

kageyama feels like he's been holding his breath for years.

you exit his car and close it properly, crossing the front and enter your building. he watches you disappear behind the doors of your elevator, and he thinks you may have been looking at him as well.

the feeling you leave on his hand remains. he puts it on his chest, placing his other hand on top of it, and feels the way his heart skips multiple beats that he considers rushing to the hospital.

nervous. guilt. an unfamiliar sensation on his belly that rises up to his chest filled with heat.

he does not want to fuck this up.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[xuterboo]

Good time everyone!

The cutting and analysis of images continues, and today my hands finally reached the Lost Paradise.

Let's meet our beauties!

Let's start with the broken king. Lost Paradise has quite a motley crew. Also, everything on the clothes is very scattered. Lucifer is wearing a strict black suit and a white striped shirt. An interesting observation: for Luci, both when he was still an angel and when he fell, The chest is open, emphasizing the scar. And he did not appear because of a fall from heaven. The scar was probably received before these events. (Fight for Seraphim's place?)

As shown in Liouifer's stories, his snake is alive, or rather, can come to life and move on its own.

I just want to throw in one thought: the biblical seraphim were created only to fly next to God and sing into his ears that he is so wonderful. This means that all Seraphim, including Luci, have a beautiful voice)

Well first of all, gooooospaby, how I love this dragon!!

And secondly, doesn’t it seem strange to anyone that the staff of Gamigin (the dragon) are different from Gamigin (the demon)? As you know, Gamigin (dragon) devoured the demon who slept with him, and apparently the dragon's pearl greatly changed the staff.

The gamigin himself is dressed in formal attire. But the casual look of directional sleeves makes the look looser. And also sneakers. Sneakers, damn it. Okay, if he likes it, then I won't mind. Blue color evokes pleasant and gentle sensations, but also helps reduce the desire to sleep. Nice contrast between Gamigin's activity and tenderness

Marbas... His clothes are more like ordinary clothes in a mental hospital, but the factory did not have white fabric, and they took some kind of black one. I still don’t quite understand why he would chain himself in this during a fight. This is inconvenient and even dangerous. Either I don't understand something, or I don't understand something. But nevertheless, he has a very interesting design.

No shoes. My pants are constantly falling down (my friend: Was it too weak to lower my pants any lower?) I have a long-sleeve shirt that reveals my shoulders almost completely. Acts as a straitjacket, but looks good in everyday life. (I hope it doesn't hurt for him to walk😔)

My sunshine Morax!☺️ I love him so much, I just can’t 🥹

He already has a more strict form of someone like a general. It can be assumed that he is more responsible for the military part of Lost Paradise .

He is probably in the same position as Glasialabolas (I hope I wrote it correctly), but as we have already noticed, PL is a more modest country than in Hades. Origin unknown. Most likely born in LP

He's covered in bandages. God, please give him a rest. Tie him down, but let him recover.

Next up is Buer. One of two demons, behind which there is some kind of creature. You can guess from his clothes that he is from Tartarus. But with feet stained with the gold of the Tartarus River, his origins are confirmed.

Dressed in a kimono of gold, red and black. In China these colors mean wealth (who would doubt it), joy and prosperity. (Buer makes me feel like he is a Chinese healer living high in the mountains. Healing, only those who have a pure soul, hee hee hee)

Also, according to official data from the Belphegor event, I am adding Batin to this collection, since he was born in the Lost Paradise.

He is a laid back lover of travel. Like most of the demons of Paradise Lost, he is dressed in black. Apparently in Nifelheim, Batin is also something of a general. In every country, one way or another there is a demon responsible for the troops, but in Gehenna this is not visible, since everyone has the same uniform.

I'm not entirely sure what culture Paradise Lost represents, as there's a lot going on there. I think this is the people who came together piece by piece from other countries. They brought something of their own to the new lands, combining knowledge with others, and this is how they turned out to be a unique nation. Friendly and quiet by nature. But as soon as you get to know them better, you will immediately see the warmth,which they emit. Although there is another facet that is in the shadows - their cruelty and indifference. It is shown when Adu or their loved ones.

The text turned out longer than I thought. OK...Thank you for reading! Write your interesting observations or thoughts about Paradise Lost!

[yujinnieswifeu]

HI SWEETIE!!

if you don't mind helping can I pls get g!p dom gaeul x sub female reader?

details hip hip hooray (i won't leave you dry)

gaeul is kind of mean girl, not really they're also idols (NOT IDOL X IDOL BABY or... kinda?) and yn is the sweet coquette babygirl

the two became friends over mutual friends bc they met at an a event/award show and mcing together

i hope that's enough for you!! i love you sweetie and have a beautiful day

pairings: g!p dom Gaeul x sub!fem reader

warning: smut, lots of edging, Gaeul has a dick

a:n: hi anon! I’m really sorry for the super late response to your ask, and at this point i think i will be saying it for the rest since i still have quite a lot to do :(, also tq for not leaving me dry HAHA, i hope i got your ask right and i tried to make Gaeul a little mean? Ok i’ll stop yapping here, enjoy~

You first saw her at an award show, you two were on the stage and they were announcing the winners. Sure, it was nerve wrecking, but when you felt a small tap on your fingers, you looked up at the most gorgeous girl you think you have ever laid eyes on. “Relax y/n-nim.” Gaeul mouthed the words, which you understood straight away, suddenly feeling less nervous as you returned a small smile.

It was crowded so it didn’t come off as anything suspicious, fans were also too busy cheering, wanting their favourite group or idols to win so their attention were’r really focused on you two. “Thank you unnie.” You mouthed back which causes a giggle to erupt from her, giving an encouraging smile your way.

The second time you saw her was at a studio where you two and another friend of yours would be mcing together for an award show. You were the first to arrive so you greeted the crew before settling down on the sofa as you waited for the other two to arrive. Not long after, you heard the sound of the door opening and you whip your head up, only to be met with one of your closest friends.

“Chaewon unnie!” You exclaimed, immediately getting up and bowing a little, she just goes up to you, squealing a little and giving you a warm hug. “Long time no see! I missed you!” Chaewon gushes and you smile shyly, returning the same gesture. “Me too! We need to hang out some time, when will you be free?” As you two were lost in conversation and catching up with one another, the sound of the door opening makes you two look up, seeing Gaeul who comes in. Your heart skips a beat just like the other time, unable to peel your eyes away as you watch her and Chaewon talking instead.

“Hey y/n, this is Gaeul, i believe you two have met before?” She looks to you and Gaeul, watching as you nod your head shyly in response. Gaeul nods her head too, her eyes locked on yours, something about you draws her in. Just seeing you shy in fact, it makes her heart race for some reason that she could not explain. “Hi y/n, i’ve heard a lot about you from Chaewon.” Gaeul says, reaching a hand out for you to shake which you do. The contact of her skin on yours makes your breathing hitch a little, but you gave her hand a small squeeze before pulling away.

“Let’s start now!” One of the staff says, and you three got into positions for a trial run.

。。。

After that day when you and Gaeul had practiced together with Chaewon, you both started texting, it started of small, but with time passing by, the texting becoming more frequent, you two started becoming playful. Sometimes when you had a thought about her at the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but snap a photo of your outfit and send it to Gaeul. It may seem weird to the public eye, but to you two, it was something special. To Gaeul, it seemed to have gotten to her when you sent a paticular image of you sitting down with your thighs pressed together, the angle being a little suggestive which makes Gaeul squirm. “I’ll be back in a bit, just need to use the toilet.” She excuses herself, rushing into a cubicle, with her phone in one and her other which she had started to palm herself.

She bit her bottom lip, imagining you palming her hard on as she stares at the provocative image, groaning softly to herself. She quickly goes under her own skirt, her breathing coming out ragged as she pulls her panties slightly to the side, starting to stroke herself. Her eyes were closed, an image of you all teary eyed as you struggle to take her cock makes her speeds up her movements. She bites her bottom lip harshly, feeling the need to cum already as her eyes rolls to the back, mouth agape before she is moving her hips desperately, cumming all over her hands as she lets out profanities.

。。。

Days turned into weeks, turned into months of playful texting, you two meeting up some days when you two were free. Gaeul started to become bolder with her moves, her hands running up and down on you thighs during times when you two were in her car, something that lingered on your mind for awhile now, or when she would wrap her arms around you and pull you closer when you two would watch a show together in either of your dorms. Your members started to tease you too, Karina smirking sometimes when she catches you texting with Gaeul, telling the others about it and you would hear them squealing in one corner, making you roll your eyes.

Today was no different when you let them know you were going to meet up with Gaeul unnie, with Aeri raising both her brows playfully before bumping your shoulders a little. “Looks like someone’s going on a date~” she teased which makes you roll your eyes. “How many times must i say that it’s not a date.” You groaned, which causes the other members to laugh a little at your reaction. “Go now, before you run late for your date with Gaeul unnie!” Ning was pushing you out the door now, and you whined in slight annoyance, before you were chased out of your shared dorms, the door closing on you with a small slam.

You rolled your eyes before going to meet Gaeul.

。。。

You walked to the place where you would meet Gaeul, it was a little more secluded, you two deciding it would be the best since you two didn’t want to get caught by onlookers. Looking up, you found the restaurant that Gaeul really wanted to try. You peered into the glass wall, your eyes scanning through the other diners before your eyes land on Gaeul, a smile instantly spreading across your face as you walked in. “Hi y/n/n!” She waves her hands a little as you walked towards her, before settling down on the chair in front of her.

“Gaeul unnie! It’s been awhile.” You pout cutely at her, watching as she grins in response. “It was just last week, you must have missed me that much huh?” There was that playful side of hers again, one that makes you roll your eyes playfully and trying not to smile but failing. “Well, someone clearly wanted to meet up with me.” Your eyes flutters flirtily towards her, watching as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes gazing down on your lips for a second before looking back at you. “And i can’t help it.” She shrugs. It was moments like this that makes your heart race, the slight sexual tension filling the air before you hear the waiter asking what you two would like to order.

It went on like this, the playful talking and touching, you decide to be bolder this time, your leg under the table brushing up against her shin. You watch as her expression turns dark, her eyes locked on yours, her breath coming out slightly ragged. The look she was giving you was as if she wanted to eat you up, it only makes you move your feet up even more, you could see her slowly crumbling down the walls that she has up. “Would you like to take this somewhere else?”

“Yes please.”

。。。

So here you two were, alone in a hotel room that Gaeul had said she booked, after reassuring you that she had connections in order to do so. Her hands entwined with yours as she thrusts herself inside of you. Your moans encouraging her to go faster, hearing her groan against your neck as she licks and bite at your skin. “Y-you’re so fucking tight, knew you were a s-slut for my cock.” Gaeul rasps out, feeling your walls squeezing her even more at her comment. “Don’t s-stop please!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing before you feel her pull out instead, whimpering at the lost of your orgasm. “Not yet baby, i want to see how desperate you are for my cock.” Gaeul swaps the position, you were now atop of her, straddling her hips as she slaps her cock over your puffy clit.

“Who owns this pussy?” Gaeul asks, she needs to hear how needy you were just as she was. “Y-you!” You whimper, feeling her bumping her tip that had some pre-cum over your bundle of nerves, it makes you moan, wanting to close your thighs before she slaps them open. “Ride my cock pretty.” It comes out needy, she positions her tip over your entrance, watching you move yourself down on her cock, your mouth parted as your eyes rolls to the back. “You like my cock? How it feels?” Gaeul voices comes out low, the sight of you cock drunk all over her cock was making her go insane, her hands finding purchase on your ass before she lands a harsh slap on your asscheeks. You let out a whine, head buried in her neck, the feeling of your nipple brushing against hers stimulates the feeling even more.

“Fuck…you feel so good baby..” Gaeul had her eyes closed, feeling you move yourself up and down over her cock desperately was bringing her faster to the edge. “P-please, wanna cum Gaeul!” Your attempt to beg for her to let you come goes unheard, with Gaeul pulling out. She revels in the way your eyes become teary from all the edging, faux sympathy spreading across her face. “You think you deserve it?” She raises a brow, pulling your hair back to make you look at her. Your eyes were still teary, but you couldn’t deny the throbbing between your legs when she gets rough with you, whining softly.

“After what you did earlier at the restaurant, how about the pics you sent me? You think those were okay too?” She pushes your face down on the bed, her hand pushing your head down on the mattress, hearing a whimper escape your lips as you bring your hips up, wanting more. “What a slut, don’t think about cumming anytime soon.” Gaeul bullies her cock inside of you again, and you knew that this was not going to end anytime soon.

[draconianthorns]

pspspspspspspsppsps. hi rotg fandom on tumblr dot com . I come to u with my offering of how I draw pitch bc he means a lot to me

this is like . my interpretation of him I guess? the last image is kosmotis pre . yknow but I have a lot of weird headcanons for him

1. I think like if he ever became "good" or I guess had a sort of redemption I like the idea that he was originally blonde and that his hair was originally like softer and wavier

2. I REALLY like the idea of him having a kind of professor venomous treatment of like being buff and tan as kosmotis and then being a grey freak as pitch (but also still attractive bc hudhfbgngnff)

3. honestly a big inspiration for his design that I give him is a fic I read every time I heard them describe his fit I was like . yes I am Thinking About This

4. my design for him has like a weeee bit of Slavic influence bc of the use of the word tsar idk its very vague but like

5. I gave him eyebrows sorry I just think the funky brows fit him idk

anyways pls accept my offering of my pitch design I'm so nervous to post this for some reason but I'm super happy with the art I've done of him yayayayay

[itonashi]

I am ME.

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, murder, more will be added.

A/N : 2k words. goddamn.. hehe enjoy and pls remember im not an expert still in the adults world neither i am that smart LOL.

4 years later...

You're 6 years old right now. Well, physically. You do not have the patience to restrain myself from not talking all the time. Your babysitter is sleeping. You're infront of a tv. Remote beside you. Maybe, you should change it to a music show?

You're bored after all. No freedom so what else can you do? You change the channel to a music show. After you change it, The MC was announcing the winner for the music show.

"Let's congratulate, B-Komachi!" The MC exclaimed and the audiences roared at the mention of B-Komachi. The members went up the stage, taking the award.

"That girl... looks familiar." You muttered under your breath. A beautiful girl with a blue purplish hair color took the mic and start her speech while giving a heart gesture.

That's the girl you met before. She was interesting to say the least. Even from a first glance, you knew that she hailed from an abusive and solemn past. She was expressionless, she talked to you without any interest in the world and show the real her. To see her become an idol.. does that means she's lying to herself right now.

What drove her to be an idol? You met her only once and yet you feel like, she would be important later on. How captivating, you hope the future is kind to her.

"And that's all from me! Ai!" She waved and giving the mic to another member.

Idol. A career that isn't appreciate enough. Some people on the world looked down upon this career. Just singing and dancing, they said. It's more than that.

Idol need to have a perfect image. One wrong step, then scandal will come for them. Especially if you're a famous group. They have to lie. They have to please their fans. One mistake and it will be talk about for years even after disbanding. The entertainment industry is dangerous. Strict to the point they could take your life.

Idol is also human. They're not robot. They also have feelings. Idols are admirable, they need to have a strong mental to handle the hate. The world is unfair to them. There's so many cases on what happened to idols for the past years and some of it is cruel.

Every career have it's upside and downside. There's no need to compare.

You broke out of your thoughts when the front door opening. You didn't even realize your babysitter already went home. "[Name]." Your father called out to you. You stand up and walk towards him with a tiny smile on your face. Your father wasn't that bad now that you have observed him for 3 years.

He looks like he love your mother dearly. Before going to work, he would always give a kiss to the cheek on your mother. Your mother would blush a little. He carry you to his arm and bring you to his lap.

"I need you to make a decision, [Name]." He said with a stern tone. You tilt your head and nod. "Do you want the easy life or the hard life?" He added, starting into your eyes with a little smile.

You widen your eyes a little "I choose the hard life!" You give an eye closed smile to your father. You felt like being silly while saying that. You expect that if you choose the hard life, he would put you into the entertainment industry. This is the time for you to reveal how smart you are to your family. You aim to be the youngest people to be scouted into the world organization you were previously in. It is possible, in that organization there's no rules for age. You learn that when a child was born in that organization from a couple.

How's that child you see as a little sister figure doing? You hope she still love drawing and painting. Your plan starts now.

Your father sae the expression on your face and laugh "That's good, [Name]. In this world, there's no one living the easy life. Next week, you will follow me visit some director." Your father said with excitement. This is probably the second time you see him that excited — the first one being the time when you talk for 'first time'

He pat you on the head and left you alone on the couch. 'Did he do that just to left me on the couch?' You deadpan at your father but shrug it off. You lay on the couch and close your eyes, gathering the information you gotten for the 4 years you have been living in this new body.

One thing for sure, one of your friends had a baby at the same year you were born. You pray for the chances to meet the child. This time, there's no mistake. You want more connections than before.

"[Name], are you excited to see a child acting on the site?" Your father is driving the car to a filming site. He said the director is someone named Taishi Gotanda. You don't really remember the great things that Taishi guy have did since you weren't that keen on keeping up with the media world.

"Yeah! I'm excited! They're the same age as me, right?" You exclaimed. "No, you're the older one there." He said. Great, being the eldest means babysitting. Well, not if the children is discipline properly.

You arrive at the site and you scan around the site for a potential connection to be made with. Your father tap your back and you follow him behind his back. "Oh, Yoshino-san. Great to have you here." The Taishi guy shake your father's hand and he noticed you behind your father. You notice his eyes and smile while waving to him. 

'This is boring.' You thought while walking a little bit away from your father. "Yoshino-chan, please follow me." A staff called out to you. You faced them and nod. "Your father said that you would only see how the process goes. You don't need to do any acting." The staff stated while leading you to a waiting room. You only hum at her to show that you're still listening to her.

'What a quiet kid...' The staff thought. The staff left you as soon as you arrive at the waiting room. You saw three kids and overhear their conversation. "Bet her acting was so bad they had to cut it all out! She seems to be good at buttering people up, though!" The child with red hair uttered.

The red hair proceed to be kinda rude in your opinion to other people. She left not before noticing you though. She look at you up and down and left. 'Is this how kids are?' You sweat at the child behavior. You look inside the room and saw two kids who you assume is twin because of the similarities. The annoyed expression on their face is visible, probably because of that girl? She's Arima Kana , if you remember correctly.

The girl who can flick a crying switch. Well, whatever. You bow at the twin and introduce yourself. They notice you and bow as well. "Oh, I'm Hoshino Ruby! And he's my brother. Hoshino Aquamarine but call him Aqua." The girl claim. What a weird name for japanese people.. The first thing you noticed about the pair is their eyes. It was captivating enough to lure you in. I'm sure they would become a big part of the entertainment industry. A powerful duo, they would say.

"Nice to meet you.." Aqua greet you with a neutral face. An opposite personality of his sister. A smile crawled up your face. "Soo.. why are you guys here?" You questions their presence at the filming site. "I will be acting while my sister here well.. she's just here, I guess." The boy deadpan. "How rude!" Ruby exclaimed.

You nod and cross your arm "It seems like Ruby is the same as me. I will only be watching." You hope that a friendship will bloom between you guys.

Amazing. You lightly smirk at the acting Aqua did. He only act like himself but he was incredibly creepy with it as that was what's the director aiming for. Maybe, the main part of it was because he seems mature for his age and his eyes. You just can't seem to let go of the beauty. "How did you think about it, [Name]?" Your father ask you with interest towards the young boy. "It's amazing, father. Can I start acting too?" You replied while staring at Arima Kana who was crying.

"It's never to late for you to be like your mother." Your father stated while lightly smiling at you "I can get you a role. Make sure to past my expectations." He added. Looks like the expectations for results is starting.

After that, your father have been keeping contacts with the twin since he have taken an interest on the young boy. You occasionally met the twin and learn more about them one by one. Sadly, your father couldn't keep hold of the them — Director Taishi Gotanda did.

You appear on multiple drama show as a child actor and made a name for yourself. There have been talks that you would conquer Arima Kana the child actor prodigy. You don't intend to do that but if that's what happen, it will happen. But they have to stop the  comparison because every person have their own flaws.

You even got to do some photoshoot for a child's brand. Well, this will be memories in a few years. Atleast, you get to feel being a child again. A carefree child. Because of all the acting, you had to learn new skills everytime even things that you didn't learn in your past life. Naturally, you're good at it.

I guess you would still be a genius this time too.

When the death of Ai Hoshino happened, you attend the funeral with your parent. The people grieving over Ai's death make you recall the time your parent got into a bad accident and passed away because of that. You didn't cry because you had no connection to her but it still hurts to know that the stranger you have met before when they're a teenager to died when they almost turn into a full fledged adult.

You hope the people from Strawberry Production is taking their time to heal from the loss of a staff. You can only give prayers to them.

Later on, the death of Ai was just like a wind breeze that pass every day. No one talk about it after a week. Some may move on and some didn't. Ai Hoshino may you rest in peace.

A year of being in the entertainment industry — thanks to your father. You don't care if they call you a nepo baby. You're talented, that's all that matter. You were invited to a variety show and you were excited since you can freely show your talents there. No on can say a thing about it. No one will question it.

You met the cast and greet them. It was going well until they start talking about your acting career. "Yoshino-san, you really resemble your mother and your acting skill is incredible. Mind to share a tip?" The MC compliment your acting. "I can't because I am ME. I don't think much on what to do and just go with the flow." You said with a neutral tone. One thing about the entertainment industry, they won't question what the kids say since their still not mature for their age and just let out what's on their mind. Even if you have a sharp tongue, the people will love it. They don't mind it when a kid do it. At the very least, you have to have a character that will make people love you.

That would make people remember you for a long time.

"Yoshino-san, your father said before in an interview that you are a genius. Top at everything, is that true?" One of the cast commented. You smirk "Why don't you give me a question and let me answer it? I would prefer if it's a math question, though." With this, you will make moments for yourself. The cast laugh at your confidence and gave you a whiteboard. You will be competing with the 'smartest' cast, they said.

"69 x 4."

Ding!

A ring was made by you. The questions was too easy. As former scientist, you had to count percentage so this is a piece of cake for you. The cast beside you look at you bewildered. "276." You confidently said. "Correct!" The MC exclaimed. You know that they're looking down on you. You ought to prove them wrong.

After a series of questions, the people were speechless upon your smartness. The adults didn't expect this. Your mother look at you behind the swarm of staff and smile widely. You notice it and wave a little.

Soon, the filming ended. You were tired and hold out your arms to your mother. Your mom chuckle s and carry you up to her arms and kiss you on the cheeks. "You did good, my little angel." Your mother praises you. You snuggle up to her. Even though, you are an adult mentally but you want to indulge in this child body of your of receiving parent's love.

Even an adult wants to heal their inner child.

TAGLIST : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa @pandaswitch @serbian-x @nambii @bajifairyy @lumiriai

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itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

[groovyfrog420]

SV Redeemed AU

INTRODUCTION / DISCLAIMER

First things first, these designs for Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla are FAR into the future. Quite literally end game phase of the story, the “they grow old together and live happily ever after”. There's a long way to get there, and while I will write some of my thoughts about their journey, I'm a shitty writer. There's no single thought-out plot, it's just bits and pieces of my thoughts in one place. 

I don't think I'd be making a tag or naming this AU anything specific. I'm still calling it an AU because there is a bit of canon divergence, but I don’t have a start-to-finish story. (EDIT: wellp that lasted long. new name is #False-Truth AU because I like the oxymoron. I still don't think I'll do much - maybe a few short comics, which you'll be able to find under that tag on my profile)

Keep in mind that these are just my own interpretations, if you imagine these cookies acting differently, that's ok! This is just my own made-up alternate version

LONG POST UNDER THE CUT - don't say I didn't warn ya

I’ve tried to divide it into sections, so if you are looking for just smth specific / only care about one of the characters, you can skip right to it!

Prepare for the ramblings. 

PURE VANILLA'S DESIGN 

more relaxed now - doesn’t need to keep up perfect appearances and the image of a hero, so he can lay back a bit more. (messier, less perfectly styled hair - more like his younger years. comfier clothes.) 

focusing on herbology - with less power now (why explained below) and trying to not overwork himself, he’s taken to different healing methods, as well as taking on gardening as a hobby

slightly more open eyes - (heavily elaborated on bellow) 

different staff - due to being able to use his own eyes more now, as well as staying more on the low, he’d decided to retire the famous staff. Since it’s a flower, it was planted somewhere and allowed to blossom and grow freely - fitting symbolism for a new beginning, I think. The lantern light glowing blue makes it easier on his eyes.

PV STORY BITS 

In this AU Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla retire together. I think PV would still like to teach, but would focus more on the medical and practical side of things, like herbs and healing practices. (He’ll leave telling tales about the past  to Shadow Milk, though he might throw in his own comments from time to time…) He mostly offers advice and shares every-day methods for protection of different kinds with those who ask, but may take on an apprentice or few to fully pass down his healing knowledge to. He uses magic sparingly now. 

This way with not focusing on a variety of subjects and many, many students, he’s able to rest more and doesn’t have to split himself between multiple worries. He can focus properly and give his students more individual attention, to make sure his knowledge will be retained for the future. 

Eyes

(don't jump me pls read the footnote) 

I've decided to take the closed/covered eyes motif PV has in a bit more symbolic way *. I want to interpret it as PV being blind (=ignorant) to the world around him, choosing to see the world and his own actions in an idealized light, and to look away from anything that doesn't fit that idea. Light sensitivity would be very ironic yet fitting - since his own powers are very light-based, by using them to help others he’d be blindinding/hurting himself in the process... 

Over time, he realizes how futile it is. Even if he turns his eyes away from the wrongdoing in the world, from his own mistakes and imperfections, they will still continue to happen. He begins to understand that he has to accept that neither he nor the world is perfect, to stop wallowing over the past and start fixing the present. To keep moving forward and keep working on himself, not hide his imperfections under literal and figurative wraps. 

With the help of Shadow Milk, he begins to open his eyes more and more and accept the real truth, no matter how imperfect it is. 

*I’m not sure how confirmed it was in canon that he’s blind (from what I’ve seen it was mostly implied, but still). I'm not erasing that - for the sake of this AU, I'd like to say that he has partial issues with sight (including the mentioned light sensitivity), but now he learns to accommodate them rather than ignore them and hurt himself more for the sake of others. No, he doesn't magically gain full sight now, but he's more comfortable, healthier, and more honest about the world around him with all of its imperfections. 

Burnout

I believe SM and PV complete each other so perfectly because they can help each other grow in areas where the other is lacking/struggling. With PV, I’d like to focus on burnout, false ideas, and how the pressure he’s constantly under has affected him. He was very much just a normal guy before receiving his Soul Jam. Years beyond a normal cookie’s lifespan of hard work and trying to be the perfect leader, to always ensure the happiness of all his people (whether that be as king or otherwise) are bound to take a toll on anyone. Obviously he'd never admit that, always putting everyone else before his own needs, and he’d likely run himself into the grave. That's where I think Shadow Milk would be helpful - he’d make him realize how unsustainable what he’s doing really is. He wasn’t built for handling immense power for all of eternity, he’s just a single cookie and whether he likes it or not, he can’t save everyone or make every single one of his people happy... Being selfish isn’t entirely wrong, sometimes might even be necessary. 

Onto the idea of false truth - Pure Vanilla has a very idealized view of a lot of things and people. He’s trying to see everyone in the best light, but he also holds a high standard for himself - that he must be the ideal, shining and caring hero and a beacon of perfection . Shadow Milk is likely to pick that image apart - probably not in the kindest way, saying that in trying to be perfectly selfless, PV is putting himself on the pedestal above everyone else while still being just a single cookie with limited capabilities. He’d likely call this image egoistical, and while PV would argue that he’s doing it for the good of others (he is helping after all, right?), Shadow Milk wouldn’t be entirely wrong - this way of thinking, that he’s the one who must take care of everyone else, is harmful for both him and the ones he’s trying to protect. 

Shadow Milk would show him that truth is relative, that “pure truth” doesn’t exist, for anyone could interpret it differently. That PV isn’t (and doesn't have to be) the perfect blameless hero. That his people aren’t as good or pure as he’d like to give them credit for, but neither are they helpless. 

Shadow Milk metaphorically and literally helps him open his eyes - he slowly learns to lay back, to accept the reality and “truth”, whatever it may be, and is no longer blinding and burning himself out by trying to help everyone at once. With a new mindset and outlook of the world, he can allow himself to retire, and leave a calmer, out-of-the-spotlight life. 

Retirement

Ok, controversial idea, but I think the ancients will have to one day retire and pass down their SoulJams. Yes, I played Cookie Odyssey, I know how important it is to them, but hear me out. As I said above (which is shown in the game btw, but correct me if I'm wrong), they were just normal cookies before taking on the roles of the Ancient Heros. Cookies with high achievements, yes, but still. They aren’t The Beasts, baked specifically for the purpose of handling the Soul Jams, and even then, The Beasts weren’t perfect. I’m not saying they’re bound to get corrupted like their predecessors did, but I am saying that this role is bound to take a toll on them. Not even just from the perspective of power, even just handling so many responsibilities with running their kingdoms is going to be extremely draining mentally. (Physically likely too, even if they’re said to stay “always young” thanks to the Soul Jams - many stories teach that you can’t mess with nature and that nothing lasts forever...)

I don’t know who they’d pass the Soul Jams along too - whether that’d be Gingerbrave and his friends, or a new batch of heroes, that is to be decided. The point is, they have served their purpose, they have (from the perspective of this AU) defeated Dark Enchantress, and deserve to now leave the rest of  their lives in peace.

SHADOW MILK'S DESIGN 

“mellowed out” a bit - continues to be eccentric and dramatic, but less manic

still unsettling - most level-headed cookies upon meeting him immediately get a feeling that there's something.. off about him, even if they can't put their finger on it. (I purposefully left some of his corrupted design elements or callbacks to them, like the marking over his eye, for that reason) 

vibrant, colorful, very extra in both behavior and looks, everything he does he does with drama and flourish 

quiets down when out of the eyes of the public, or alone with Pure Vanilla 

peacock elements - fitting for someone with such a vibrant personality. also the eye connection is perfect - if you look closely at the feather he's wearing, you might even notice a familiar symbol in its “eye”

a playful bard - (elaborated heavily bellow) - an identity allows him to enjoy his favorite activities, while also being a slight callback to his academic past 

SM STORY BITS

The bard 

While spending more time with Pure Vanilla, PV encouraged him to pursue his creative interests. Partly to have smth to get SM’s mind off of causing chaos, and partly because they let him indulge and express himself without causing any serious damage. Now he’s joined PV in retirement, though still not fully stepping down from the stage.

Being a bard allows Shadow Milk to indulge in everything he likes most: being the center of attention, dramatics, theatrics, mischief, a tasteful dose of lies and half-truths, but also, in a way, calling back to his past self: for while a lot of his stories are made-up tales, he can also share the history of Earthbread that he’s witnessed. Yes, he may do so through over-dramatic performances or behind caricatural characters, but every tale holds a grain of truth, does it not? Whether his audience chooses to believe him or not is their choice to make.

Referencing the fact that a big part of human history survived through word of mouth, and how storytellers play an important role in preserving it, I think it’s only fitting to make him a bard.

About visual choices

I made his redeemed design less chaotic and asymmetrical, but still vibrant and based mostly on his current color palette, rather than the one from Blueberry Academy. That's because while he may be rediscovering his interests from the past, he’s not the person he was before corruption and never will be again. Instead, he too is learning to rediscover the world in a new light, with a new identity. 

Visually I’ve tried to keep some elements from his current design, if slightly toned down: a wide collar, puffy sleeves, a flowy cape. Elements of his corruption are also still there: different colored sclera (= his one eye being black), the sharp teeth. He may have settled down and calmed down slightly, but he remains as playful as ever :)) 

He still causes local chaos once in a while or resorts to pranking unsuspecting cookies nearby (the slight charring at the bottom of PV’s robe is a result of one of such pranks getting out of hand), and PV has accepted that he'll never be a calm, put-together cookie he once might have been. However, SM's learned to not be a danger to others for the sake of the one he cares about the most, and that's enough for the both of them. 

And that's all for now! If you've managed to get this far, thank you SO much for your patience, I hope you've enjoyed my thoughts and brainworms <3

[kamii-2]

“you thought wrong”

so sorry for not posting a chapter in almost 2 months but i hope you guys enjoy this long-ish chapter! a part of this chapter is based off of a fanfic i read a while ago, im not sure who wrote it or who the fic was about but if i ever find out who it is i will definitely give them a shoutout type thing. i’d also like to say this chapter is where things start to like really happen (idk how else to word it, hopefully you get what im saying) and im very sorry if the beginning of the sorry is confusing in any way, also act like they’re all old enough to drink.

warning(s): cussing, drinking, kissing

genre: fluff

pairing(s): kk arnold x reader

“you thought wrong” masterlist

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chapter 3: “is this some kind of prank?”

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the moment you accidentally opened the door then shut it, kk pulled away from the girl she was making out with and ran to ice, not telling the other girl what was going on. “ice, i think i messed up any chances i had with y/n. she just walked in on me making out with another girl.” kk told her best friend, trying to catch her breath from running down the flight of stairs. “why would you even make out with someone else if you wanted her so bad? are you actually stupid?” ice was mad that kk would even do something like that, wanting a girl then making out with another, it made no sense. “i haven’t done anything with anybody in a while and the girl offered so why not take up that offer?” kk said, half joking. kk thought about where you could’ve went, “she left second she came back down here.” ice said as she took a sip of her drink. “great.” was all kk said as she plopped down next to her best friend.

-

kk was all you could think about while you laid in bed, trying to sleep. after seeing her kissing another girl it made you realize how in love with her you were. you wished you were the one she was kissing, not some random girl at a house party who probably just wanted to use kk for sex. the image of her and the other girl kept replaying in your head again and again, you couldn’t take it anymore so you tried to watch tiktok to forget about kk and the stupid girl she was with. when you opened tiktok the first thing you seen was an edit of kk. “oh my God.” you said out loud as you got off the app and turned on your tv. you decided to just watch some netflix until you fell asleep.

when you woke up with a mild headache, you didn’t drink too much so your hang over wasn’t as bad as it usually was when you drank. you got up and took some medicine to ease the headache and drank water to help the pill go down your throat. you grabbed your phone and seen that symphony had texted you a few times asking if you were okay, you told her about how all you thought about was kk last night and how when you opened tiktok she was the first thing you seen. you two continued to text about what happened last night and other random things until symphony just randomly stopped texting you back for a good 20 minutes. you brushed it off and went on with your day, thinking she was busy or her phone died. in reality, symphony got a text from kk’s best friend, ice, on instagram.

-instagram direct messages-

@ice.brady: hey this is symphony right?

@symphony_roy: yea why?

@ice.bradyy: be honest, does y/n like kk bc kk likes her a lot and doesn’t believe me that y/n likes her back. @ice.bradyy: pls tell me i promise to not show kk like fr

@symphony_roy: yes 😭 ive been telling y/n since the day she told me that kk is gay and likes her back but her slow ass won’t believe me

@ice.brady: bro they act the same way exact same way 😭@ice.bradyy: anyway the reason im texting you is bc i think we should make them go in a blind date but don’t tell them the gender of the person bc i don’t want them to find out immediately

@symphony_roy: wait that’s a really good idea @symphony_roy: but we need to plan this more before we dive right into it

-real life-

after they planned out their entire plan, symphony went to your dorm. “hey.” you greeted as she barged in, using the spare key you had gave her. “so…. how do you feel about blind dates?” she asked while clasping her hands together, taking a seat on the couch next to you. “uhm, they’re okay i guess… why?” you reply while stopping what you were doing on your phone and side eyeing her. “because you’re going on one on monday.” symphony stated, “what?!?” you yelled while whipping your head to look at her, “i did not sign up for that!” symphony just stared at you, a small smirk on her face. “well, you’re going on it, i don’t care what you say.” symphony shrugged while getting up and leaving, “bye, remember you have a date in two days, i’ll send you the details later.” she closed the door.

-

when you woke up you seen kk had followed you back on every app you followed her on, seeing this made your stomach do backflips. you were a bit embarrassed because you had followed her for ages and she just now followed you back but you didn’t really care because atleast she followed you. as the day went on you kept stalking kk, being careful to not like any super old pictures on instagram or old tiktoks. you were stalking so hard you even found her mom’s facebook page. in the middle of your stalking, symphony barged in your room, “okay so what are you gonna wear tomorrow?” she asked while sitting at the edge of your bed, facing you. “i don’t know, probably jean shorts and a crop top.” you shrugged, “basic as hell. wear something more revealing, you gotta show off all that ass to them.” she half-joked, “bro then you find my outfit.” you sighed at her.

symphony went to your closet and started to look through everything to find the perfect outfit for you. after about 10 minutes she found a short, tight, light pink dress. you bought it last month and never got the chance to wear it. “it’s perfect, i’ll tell your date to wear something on the nicer side. you guys will look so cute together.” she smiled while holding the dress up. you were still unsure on the whole blind date thing but you were kind of excited for it, maybe you’ll meet your soulmate. you had thought about who it could be and you thought about it being kk but you weren’t sure if symphony would do something like that.

symphony stayed over for the rest of the day and didn’t go home until sunset. you two talked about life, ordered pizza, and watched a few movies sherrie she went back to her dorm. you were too nervous to go to bed, knowing that the next day at 7pm you would be meeting up with a potential complete stranger for dinner.

-

the whole day you were super nervous and could barely think straight. part of you was thinking about just not going but you know if you did that then symphony would rip you a new one. you were hoping the date was a girl and hoping it was kk but you knew it wasn’t gonna be her, kk was just making out with another girl 2 days ago, she wouldn’t switch that fast, or so you thought. at around 6:00 you started getting ready, putting on the dress and some white heels that made you an inch taller, and putting on light makeup. symphony showed up to your dorm at 6:34, “im taking you to the restaurant because im gonna sit a table or two away and watch yall.” she said with a huge smile on her face. you nodded in response and continued to get ready.

on the way there you were so nervous to where you thought you could throw up. the whole car ride you were silent and had short answers when symphony talked to you. “y/n its okay i promise. dont worry about anything. all you gotta do is meet this person, talk to them, eat dinner, then you’re done.” symphony reassured you, keeping her eyes on the road. you sighed and tried to think on the bright side of it, if you didn’t like this person then you’d probably never have to talk to them again. as you got closer you got more and more nervous but you kept thinking about what symphony said and it helped it go down.

when you two got to the restaurant you immediately got out and walked into the restaurant. symphony pointed, “your date’s already here.” you stopped dead in your tracks and whipped your head towards her. “is this some kind of prank?” you asked while wide eyes. “nope. your date is kk.” symphony laughed while pushing you towards the table. “symphony you’re fucking lying.” you said while trying to resist her pushing you. “i’m not, now go sit down and talk to her.” she said while pushing you again and walking away. you sighed before slowly walking over to the table that kk was at. when she looked up from her phone she paused for a second before she realized that you were her blind date. when you sat down it was quiet for a second before she said something. “hey y/n. how’s life been?” she said, not knowing what else to say. “it’s been fine, how about you?” you asked her, “good. did you know that i was your date?” kk asked with a smile. “no, symphony literally came into my dorm and told me that i was going on a blind date, didn’t tell me anything else.” you two laughed and continued to talk.

the night went very well, you two talked about everything under the sun and flirted a lot. symphony and ice were watching from a few tables over and talked about how cute you two were together. “i’m glad they made us go on this date.” you admitted while admiring kk, looking her up and down. “i agree, maybe i can get your number or something?” kk asked, “yea.” you say as you proceed to tell her your number. after she got your number the flirting was nonstop, now she was certain you liked her back. the rest of the night you two continued to talk about random stuff and even talked about going on another date.

at free you guys paid for the food snd drink you both went over to symphony and ice’s table. “hey guys.” ice said with a smirk, “do yall wanna go to a club or something?” symphony asked while standing up. “sure why not.” you said, “okay i’ll send you the address.” symphony said, talking to ice. ice nodded and you all went to the cars. “so how was it?” symphony questioned you the moment you both got in the car, “we were flirting the whole time and she asked for my number.” you answered, “aren’t you glad i made you go on this date?” she smiled while pulling out of the parking lot and driving to the bar, you nodded and told her more about the date.

after you got your ID’s checked, kk grabbed your hand and pulled you into the bathroom. “what’s wrong?” you asked when you reached a stall. “nothing.” she mumbled before kissing you, you immediately kiss back. the kiss felt magical, the way your lips fit together perfectly made your stomach do frontflips. you relunctsntly pulled away for air, “damn.” was all kk could say as she went back for more.

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i’m so sorry this took like 2 months to get out but i still hope you enjoyed!! i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[themeraldee]

I don't know if you're getting sick of the body type questions, but on one of your most recent asks you said, "It's not that I think that he will be immediately attracted to a larger size. He most certainly will throw all sorts of jabs and sarcastic remarks," and hooooo boy does that fulfill some kind of pathetic fantasy in me. I was wondering if you had any little tastes of like, what that would look like? The idea of being so disgusted with a girl because she doesn't fit his idealized image and slowly melting because she just has a force-of-nature personality that sees into his soul? Sounds great, give me 20.

I'm really just wondering of like, things he would say or think as he's going through it.

Deffo not getting sick of it!!! I read this in the morning and spent the entire day thinking back to this. Still somehow I don't have the perfect answers. I gotta say snappy and clever dialogue is such a weakness of mine that whatever I think of for this probably won't flow how I want it to so excuse that pls 😂

At first he'd treat her with 0 respect, dismissing her like any other office drone whinging in his ear about something they need from him. When her post turns more permanent and she doesn't scurry away at the first sign of discomfort he pushes it further, seeing how much more she can take. It's a lot less about insulting her weight and a lot more about getting under her skin and dealing with his own issues of getting increasingly more attracted to someone with a societally less desirable body.

He looks her up and down before making comments such as:

"I didn't know Vought hired women your size."

"Whew, must be real confident to wear a dress like that."

She has heard it a thousand times, men always just try to get the upper hand, wanting to be the dominant one in the exchange. While there's no question about his power, he acts just like any other man who thinks insulting her weight will magically make her turn skinny.

At first I imagine him ogling her, unabashedly staring at her ass or tits, watching as she walks or bends over. It's less about getting his dick hard and more about the condescending superiority because he feels like he's doing her a favour as according to him, pfft, who else is gonna look at you like that?

But really he always looks forward to her nonchalant responses anytime he tried to jab at her with yet another fat-shaming joke. She so doesn't take him seriously and it's such a nice change of pace that he's hooked on their interactions.

"Cookies today, huh? Still not had enough?"

"No actually, I brought some for you. The team had too many leftover so I thought I'd share."

"Well it's not like you need anymore." He's so caught off guard by the nice gesture that he has no choice but to default to more rude remarks.

"Just eat the damn cookie." He relishes in the way she shakes her head, rolling her eyes with a tiny hint of a smile.

---

"What in the christ are you drinking now? What kind of calorie bomb is that, it smells fucking awful."

"It's literally just a matcha latte, it's actually a little bitter - want to try some?"

And it's the little remarks or acknowledgements she sends back his way that get him a little too riled up. Because she has no issues with 'standing up' to him. Oops suddenly he's ogling her for a whole different reason. Jaw clenching, head swimming with thoughts of parting her soft thighs and feeling them squeeze around his head—

Until he's the one actively seeking her company because she's a breath of fresh air and doesn't cower in front of him. And he wants her so fucking bad. She offers companionship when nobody else is willing to have an entertaining conversation. It reaally doesn't take long for him to be desperate to be held by her soft body and have her words softly whispered in his ear.

[peachbottom]

Not Hungry

Authors Note: I actually kind of hate this but I spent some time on it so I might as well post it. I wrote this with a similar body type to mine in mind, though it can be pictured anyway you like it does hint at a midsize/chubby reader. Give me feedback if you feel like it. Much love xoxo

Summary: You are self conscious eating in front of people so you decide to wait until you get home to eat. But unfortunate weather has you stuck at Buckys apartment and he is determined to make sure you don’t go to sleep hungry.

Warnings: food, not eating, body image, insecurities, hints at mature themes, pet names, possibly disordered eating habits, barely edited, bad formatting (pls let me know if I missed any)

——————————————————————————

You and Bucky had been together for a little while now, about 6 months. You both agreed to take it slow due to your own situations.

You really did like Bucky, loved him even, but you still had your habits and behaviors that you used to mask your own anxieties.

For example, you don’t eat in front of people. Even Bucky, and not because you don’t trust him but because you get in your head.

You will eat food with him but never a full meal. Part of it is because you don’t want him to judge you for eating too much, too little, too fast, too slow, anything really. People have always had something to say about your body and appearance and you came up with this coping as a way to keep them from having more to judge.

It started in high school when girls would make comments that you eat too much or you always were hungry. That’s when you not only developed insecurities about your body but you’re eating as well. You would notice when you went out with friends they wouldn’t eat much and you didn’t want to be the one eating more than everyone else.

So whenever you were with Bucky he would always suggest getting food or having a snack. Who knew super soldiers that workout all the time eat so much. Your reaction to this was always say you’re not hungry, you ate before you came over, you didn’t feel good, you had a list of excuses. You never ate more than a couple bites or a small snack of anything. You would always wait to eat when you got home.

Thankfully your relationship was young and you were taking things slow, you had never spent more than a day together and never spent the night at each other’s places. That was until one night when it was quite stormy and dark.

…

You and Bucky were sitting in his apartment on his couch, you had your legs tucked under you and were snuggled up to his side, head on his chest, with his arm around you. You were very comfortable and very warm, your eyes started getting heavy and you felt truly at peace in his arms.

Bucky starts rubbing up and down your arm to get your attention, he turns his head away from the tv screen in front of you and looks down at your curled up form tucked into his side.

“Hey it’s getting kinda late, I would say maybe you would want to go home but I don’t like you going out in this weather. How would you feel about maybe staying the night?”

You reach out for your phone on the table in front of you to check the time. It’s 11pm and it’s storming out. Rain is coming down hard, wind whipping, and it’s freezing out, he has a point you don’t really want to go through the city in this weather at this time of night.

You think about what he said, about staying the night. It sounds so nice being able to fall asleep next to him, but you can’t help but think about the pain in your stomach. Your so hungry, and eating in front of him seems so embarrassing, especially to have to ask for food. You planned to just eat when you went home, when Buck had ordered food earlier he asked what you wanted you said you weren’t really hungry you had a late lunch. The truth was you were hungry and you forgot to eat before you came over, you figured it would be fine though because you could just wait until you got home. Now that won’t be until tomorrow morning.

“Yeah, I mean I would love to stay if it’s not too much of a hassle”

He smiles from ear to ear throwing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“Oh yeah! I get my girl all night now”

You can’t help but laugh at his goofy reaction, he’s truly such a sweet soul. You are laying half in his lap as he gently kisses your head, turns you around and places you so your head is laying in his lap looking up at him.

“This is so exciting, this is our first time spending a night together. I’ll get you some clothes to change into and you can shower if you want, are you hungry because you haven’t eaten anything all day.”

You simply smile up at him as he softly tucks your hair behind your ear.

“I’m okay, I told you I had a late lunch. And im not ready to go to bed yet can we stay like this for a little longer”

Still playing with your hair and looking down at you with a sweet smile he responds. “I’d be happy to stay like this for the rest of our lives. But maybe you could eat something, even if you had a late lunch it’s been hours and i worry”

He moves his other hand to rest on your stomach, if he had tried to do that at the beginning of your relationship you would have freaked, but he’s showed you that he truly loves every part of you even the parts you are the most insecure about. You rest your hand over his on your belly to reassure him you are fine.

“I’m not hungry I’m fine.”

“But you don’t eat enough, I barely see you eat. Please just have at least a little bit for my peace of mind.”

Just as you go to open your mouth and speak you feel and hear your stomach make horrible noises as if screaming to take Bucky up on the offer of food. You just close your mouth and look away from Bucky feeling guilty for lying to his face and embarrassed for having your stomach be loud enough to drown out the television.

“Let’s go, come on im making you some dinner” He sits you up and stands in front of you with his hands out ready to take yours. You still can’t process what just happened, you are beyond embarrassed. So you look up stunned at not only his reaction but his persistence in wanting to care for you, you take both his hands and stand up.

He moves both your hands into one of his and walks you towards his kitchen island, where he pulls out a chair for you and motions for you to sit. He then rounds the counter and opens the fridge taking inventory.

“Okay so we could do spaghetti, Mac and cheese, a pb&j or a grilled cheese. Pick your poison baby” He lists off all the options and turns to look over his shoulder at you.

You look up from picking at your fingers and see him gazing back at you, waiting for an answer. “Umm whatever is easiest is fine, thank you” your response is quiet but he hears you and starts to take things out of the fridge.

As he makes you food he hums soft melodies of old songs from his childhood. Swiftly and easily moving throughout the kitchen without any hesitation or look of upset.

“Here you go doll, eat up please it’s made with extra love” he places the dish right in front of you and turns to grab you some water. On the plate in front of you is two grilled cheese sandwiches, cut into perfect triangles.

Bucky places water down next to you and then takes the seat beside you.

“Please eat” he says as he places a hand on your back rubbing up and down your spine.

“Why did you make me two, I don’t need that much.” You say in a slightly anxious way.

“Well because I didn’t know how much you wanted and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable to ask for more if you wanted it, that’s all. Just eat what you want and leave what you don’t, it’s not big deal.”

You look at your plate, you are really hungry and it looks so good. You pick up a half and take a bite, it’s just as good as it looked. But you can’t help but feel awkward just having him watch you eat. “Will you eat too, I feel weird eating alone”

“Of course you don’t have to ask me twice I’m always ready to eat” so he picks up another half and takes a bite.

You both sit and eat in silence for a minute until he places a hand on your knee and asks you a question. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were hungry, earlier or now? I feel like your never hungry, or at least that’s what you tell me. What’s the matter baby, tell me”

You swallow the grilled cheese and take a sip of water to wash it down before speaking.

“I don’t know I feel weird asking for food, I mean I feel weird eating in front of people in general especially you. Your so..you know all muscles and hotness and I’m squishy, I guess I just didn’t want you to judge me.”

The hand in your knee grips a little tighter, “Oh baby no don’t think like that. First of all I think your all curves and hotness so don’t ever think I’ll judge you for what you look like or eat. I love you so much and I don’t want you to feel like you have to go hungry while your with me because you think I’ll judge you for eating. It doesn’t make any sense to me baby, you need to eat that’s what keeps you alive and healthy and full of energy.”

“It’s not that I don’t eat, I just don’t like eating in front of people. Maybe you think I’ll eat too much or that I don’t eat all super healthy food. People can be really mean, and I think I just developed ways to stay safe from judgment.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head, holding you close. “Oh honey, your always safe with me. You could tell me you wanted to eat six whole pizzas and I’d buy them for you, sit next to you and eat seven myself. You are never going to be judged by me, never I promise you. But you have to promise me that you will eat when your hungry because I worry. Can you do that?”

You lean back and look him in the eyes, nodding your head yes. “Yeah I can do that”

At this point you both finished your food and are ready to get settled in for the night. Bucky takes the dirty plate and puts it in the sink to take care of tomorrow.

You follow him to his room where he pulls out some clothes for you. He hands you a shirt and a pair of boxers then leads you to the bathroom.

“Here is all my shampoo and soapy stuff, and I there are some extra toothbrushes under the sink. Help yourself to whatever you need, and I’ll be just out there watching some tv.”

You offer him a warm smile and he leans in, grabs your jaw and places a soft kiss on your lips. He was such a good man and he did everything he could to make you comfortable. It’s like he was your saving grace ready to scrub away all the dirt and scuffs people had left on your shiny soul and bright heart. So that way he can show you how beautiful of a person you are under all the damage people have done.

While in the shower you can’t help but feel like a weight had been lifted off you after your conversation tonight. You know Bucky loves everything about you and it makes you feel like all the bad things people had ever said to you didn’t matter anymore. The one person that does matter is erasing all those negative things they ever planted in your mind.

You wash up and brush your teeth, then put on the clothes that Bucky let you borrow. The shirt hung loose over your body stopping just below your hips, the boxers were soft and comfortable.

You leave the bathroom and walk into the bedroom to see Bucky leaning back in the bed on his phone. He’s wearing a pair of shorts and no shirt, and boy does he look pretty.

“Did you have a nice shower doll?” He asks not looking your way, he then turns his head to look at you. “Oh don’t you look pretty in my clothes.”

You laugh and walk up to the edge of the bed, pull the blankets back and sit down. “Your crazy, James I swear”

“Oh first the clothes now calling me James, ughh you are doing something to me.”

You blush and look at him, both of you with goofy smiles on your face. You and him have never done anything like that before. (taking things slow, remember) So you knew he was mostly just trying to get you flustered, and it was working.

You both get fully under the blankets and snuggle up together, you being the little spoon. You were never a small girl but next to him you felt like it. It felt comfortable and safe, like you knew nothing bad could happen when he was by your side.

He rests his hand over yours on your stomach, giving it a slight rub. “Is your tummy nice and happy, she’s not hungry anymore?”

You laugh at his silly question but you know he’s serious and he really does care. “Yeah she’s good”

“Good, if my girl is happy then I’m happy. Good night my love sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Bucky, I love you.”

That night you dreamt of grilled cheese, your sexy shirtless boyfriend and his caring heart. The best part is, when you wake up in the morning it’s all real and it’s all yours.

——————————————————————————

Masterlist

[chryblossomjjk]

the weekend | jjk (teaser)

→pairing: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

→rating/genre: m/18+ | fwb?, angst, full fic will include smut

→word count: 618

→warnings: suggestive (as in building up to smut), some dirty talk, hair pulling, neck smoochies, lil lingerie moment, slightly dangerous moment in a car?, implied infidelity, smol appearance from bby yul (holds up ‘aww’ cue card)

→summary: Every weekend, you give Jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing Monday through Friday.

→notes: um long time no see i haven't posted any writing in a while so im v excited and nervy atm! had this teaser planned for a hot minute so yeah v excited to see your reactions! i don't have a set date when this will come out but hopefully soon. as for now, you can check out my masterlist if u wanna wink wink. also this fic will be v angsty so pls if thats not ur thing, skip this. ok love u bye !! feedback is appreciated v much uwu. also this is not beta’d obvi so if there’s any typos or goofiness rip im sorry :’(

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo; 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you bought just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, teasing tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so was being with a man like Jungkook. You’re incapable of rational thought when you finally get to have him the way you want. One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied.

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips.  “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear. 

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in, strong hand gripping your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is clenched painfully tight.

He’s pissed. 

You know you should apologize, or be shaken up at the very least, but the blinking of his turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted. 

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. You go in for a bite.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth into his skin. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically, his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug, but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel his entire life. Jungkook is an intelligent man. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a facade, and everything’s already been undone. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings. 

The contact image would normally make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered, hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen, though, makes you sick to your stomach. 

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling for you to shut up, before answering. 

“Yes, Seulgi?”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[swe3tte4rs]

" Like a cinnamon roll " - Batfam x Little Sister!Reader

Request: Can I request a batfamily hc with an adopted little batsis who is younger than Damian pls? She's a cute little cinnamon roll and gets spoiled by her rich ansd supportive family.

A/N: (Ignore the tittle and image, I have no ideas) Thank you for the request!! And... I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO UPLOAD THIS 😓😭😓💔💔💔 I'M SO SORRY

It's short, yes ok, I admit it. But at least I uploaded thiss! And I'm also sorry if this isn't written the way you want, I'm sorry.

As usual. This Au is a combination of headcanons, comics, video games, series and wattpad, so not everything will be canon.

TW: nothing? no canon

Dick Grayson / Nightwing

he loves you.

but he hardly has time to spend.

I think he is one of those brothers who lift you up in their arms as a tender greeting. (💗)

"What? I thought kids liked cereal for dinner…"

Don't take this the wrong way, he would like to have time to spend with you, but he has a VERY tight schedule…

Dick would be very protective and he would do everything possible so that you don't have any trauma (or something like that).

He is one of the charismatic brothers, always making you smile with his bad jokes.

And obviously always being by your side as a brother.

If you ever have a bad relationship with Bruce, Dick would cure those daddy issues for you. 🫶

Always giving you life lessons...

Dick would take you out for a walk in the afternoons (if he had time) to have a shake or ice cream.

Jason Todd / Red hood

okey, just let me.

"You want a beer, kid?"

I guess you hardly ever have interaction with each other.

yk, he has daddy issues x100

Jason is one of the brothers who sits you in front of the TV, puts on some cartoon and leaves you there while he does something.

He simply found out about your existence from the news that Bruce Wayne adopted another little girl or Dick told him.

Once he met you and saw how sweet, kind and innocent, he said to himself: "Time to be a good big brother."

Jason would be very overprotective of you, he wouldn't want anything to happen to you.

Sometimes he starts to think and goes blank when he thinks that you are going to be a teenager and have a partner who will hurt you.

He already planned different ways to kill them. Even if they are aliens.

Despite his tough and stern attitude, he also shows his emotional and tender side with you.

Tim Drake / Red Robin

It's a good brotherly relationship between you, honestly.

Tim, seeing you, so innocent and sweet, decided to be your biggest guardian. (Although there is Alfred as your "protector", but he wants to do it anyway)

Tim would help you with science, geography, math and whatever homework you need.

He may be a coffee addict, but he wouldn't give you coffee even if he was threatened with death. You are very small.

"ALFRED! Y/N ACCIDENTALLY DRINK FROM MY COFFEE MUG AND NOW LOOKS LIKE A DAMN ZOMBIE!!" (like you, fucking brum brum)

Forget what I say...

Support for you... whenever he feels like it.

Nah just kidding, he's very good to you, he loves you.

He would scold you, yes, but then he sees that you are angry with him, he feels bad now.

Cassandra Cain / Orphan

Cass would just be so sweet to you 😭

#bestbigsisterinthefuckingworld

She always makes sure you get anywhere safely and eat all your meals.

I feel like it would be two kinds of big sisters every time you get angry with her because you scolded her… It depends on her mood.

Like like. You go to your room, yell at her and close the door forcefully, she would be sad for your scream and feel bad about herself. BUT, in another case she may simply not care and yell back at you. "FINE!"

But you always return to being the united sisters you always were.

Very sweet, she will always be your support and is always giving you love.

She's someone who takes everything seriously, because you know. So...

If they insult you, let me tell you, she will give any child a death glare. Oh, and she would accuse those children to their parents.

Damian Wayne / Robin

NO INSPO WITH HIM, SORRY DAMIAN FANS, I LOVE YOU

At first he would be like: "And who is this..."

First, you must spend a lot of time with him so that he can trust you and that you are not some spy. /jk

Dami is a very mature boy for his age, so I don't think they do the typical jokes between brothers.

Although, he likes to make you laugh with bad jokes that he copied from Dick.

Damian is not so good at "cohabit" with small children or those his age, but he would try with you.

He would also be a very protective brother, like a faithful guardian.

At first there would be a bit of misunderstanding between him and bruce, but it was later resolved once he liked you.

It would help you with nightmares (if you have them), allow you to go into his room and sleep with him.

A good brother once you know him well. He loves you.

Duke Thomas / The Signal

I think he would also be a very sweet and loving brother.

I think he's one of those older brothers who lifts your feet up to his and starts doing a silly, adorable little dance. Love him.

Sometimes he doesn't take you seriously because of how adorable you are.

I just imagined Duke having cuteness overload watching you try to help him in the kitchen or with his homework.

He would let you try your "makeups" on him, he doesn't care about the teasing, anything just to be your favorite big brother.

The tremendous scolding that kids who make fun of you get from Duke.

I feel like he would be very patient with you, always.

He finds it funny that anyone can bribe you with a simple chocolate or candy.

He would teach you how to play different games. Like football, he would celebrate every time you score a simple silly goal.

[If you like you can add more headcanons <3 || Divider not mine! You can find the user who did it in a reblog of my account!]

[amarayys]

DRDT episode 13 theory. So.

so i was meant to be making a general episode 13 analysis video. but um. i dont have the energy for that. so what am i gonna do instead? TALK ABOUT TERUKO try find out wtf david is doing in this scene

SO. time to find out what possibly the FRUITIEST look ever from david means!!! disclaimer:

I suck at theories. And formatting. Yipee.

I'm painfully unfunny so excuse any dumbass jokes i make.

I'm going to find any and all excuses to rant abt teruko. be prepared...............

4. I may repeat myself a lot. Forgive me if it sounds really repetative... :( 5. Any points surrounded by - these things - are just things that are unlikely, but I think should still be adressed.

So, the context of these images is Teruko revealing "her secret"; You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them.

(pls excuse the shitty quality.) She has to be either lying or MAYBE unsure about her secret. Here's why: 1. She had a conversation with Whit (and technically charles, but he was just listening in) about her family. She reveals that she's never known her parents and grew up in an orphanage. She did grow up with her biological brother, but he was adopted by another family when Teruko was five, and she says she doesn't remember him much.

2. The wording of the secret is quite specific - You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. Like I've mentioned, she's never known her parents. Even if she *somehow* knew they were dead, why would she blame herself for it? I could see it maybe working in some way, but the next bit disproves it - SIBLINGS. Teruko has only mentioned having one sibling, and this wording is plural. This secret cannot be hers, she only has one brother. - To add on to this

2.5. Maybe one could argue that siblings and parents could be her friends/people she considered family in the orphanage she grew up in. However, the specific wording of parents and siblings, instead of just using the word "family", makes me think otherwise. - Okay, so let's dissect what this means. - I think if maybe she was unaware/TRULY thought that this was her secret, the only point that would support it is 2.5. Maybe she considered people she grew up with in the orphanage her "parents" or siblings", but its just not very likely. While I wouldn't be surprised if Teruko blew up an orphanage or something (/hj) , I think it's a stretch to say this secret is referring to that. - With that out the way, we come to one conclusion - Teruko is lying about secret. "Amari, we know that already, can we move on??????????" yeah yeah whatever i may have just wanted to rant about teruko. MOVING ON. So, what is Teruko's secret? It's pretty wildly agreed upon that Teruko's secret is the one regarding the killing game, which David recieved - "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."

We think that this is Teruko's secret because: 1. She's the only one that fits it smh. /hj 2. The guy at the start of the prologue (who is probably xander but that is a WHOLE other theory you can find here ) mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki (how DARE they) after talking about ending the killing game.

My interpretation of this is that Teruko is the reason the killing game is actually happening, though I doubt she's aware of this/the mastermind (or she could be, idk??). A really good theory that I feel explains what I mean by Teruko causing the KG but not being the mastermind is the time loop theory which is linked here. (accirax i love you for this theory /p) Obviously, this lines up with "The killing game is your fault." 3. David gives her THE LOOK right after she "admits" her secret, which sort of maybe kind of implies that he knows she's lying, which he does, since he has the secret. - As for the remaining secret: Xander's secret (which we assume min recieved) is the one Teruko claimed to have:

"You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Why do I think this? 1. In Xander's bonus video, it is VERY heavily implied that he has survivor's guilt as well as outright confirmed his family is dead. Go check it out for the full context.

2. Xander's secret message on the DRDT tumblr is the definition of survivors guilt. Really self explanatory, huh?

3. XANDER ACTUALLY HAS MORE THAN 1 FUCKING SIBLING. anyway. okay, this is getting a little confusing to remember, so here: Killing game: Teruko's secret, recieved by David. Survivor's guilt: Xander's secret, recieved by Min. (all remaining secrets remain the same.) MOTIVE

So, why would Teruko lie about her secret? I mean, shouldn't she just point it out? And why didn't David point it out? - 1. Teruko is aware that her secret is the killing game one and is lying because she's the mastermind or something. We see her thoughts, so I really doubt it. To further disprove this theory: Teruko has stated like 15 times (/ex) that she doesn't know which secret is hers, due to her having too many secrets. So, yeah, pretty unlikely she knows which secret's hers. Discard this theory. -

2. a) Teruko doesn't know her secret, but knows it's probably bad, and therefore doesn't want to share it, so she lied. Pretty straightforward, really. Now, for the theory that I think is most likely: 3. Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again.

We know that's she's accidentally led the trial in the wrong direction twice now (motive secrets, time of murder) Also, this is the most in character.

As for David: A. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to cause distrust and just generally fuck Teruko over. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. B. David knows her secret, but earlier, he and Teruko made a pact to keep it hidden. However, since he's a little bitch boy (/j), he's going to reveal it anyway, either post trial or in a future daily life. - Just to add on to this point ^ - I know Teruko's protag and we see her thoughts and all, but Kaede happened, so I don't think this is out of the question. - I think the most likely combination is point 3. and point A. : Teruko's lying about her secret to avoid the trial heading off topic. David isn't calling her out because he wants to use it in the future to throw suspicion onto Teruko and cause havoc.

SO. Let's recap! Secrets: Teruko: "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault." Received by David. Xander: "You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Received by Min. Rest remain the same as canon. Why can't Teruko's secret be about her family? 1. Teruko never knew her parents, and never mentions them being dead. 2. Teruko hasn't seen her brother since she was 5, and she never mentions him being dead, just adopted. 3. The wording of the secret refers to siblingS, which is plural. Teruko has only one sibling. 4. The secret fits Xander much better - His secret quote is the defintion of survivors guilt, and his bonus episode heavily implies he has survivors guilt, and it is confirmed his family died in the same bonus episode. Why is Teruko's secret about the killing game?

• The guy at the start of the prologue mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki after talking about ending the killing game. This implies Teruko is the cause of the killing game, whether on purpose or not. Motive for lying: Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to use it in the future to turn everyone against Teruko and just generally cause distrust in the group. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. **btw, just a fun afterthought - i think either whit or charles will eventually point out the conversation regarding teruko's unbringing and how it contradicts her secret - and david will use that opportunity to reveal teruko's secret. ANDDDD that's it! feel free to correct/add on any points you'd like. this took AGES but i had so much fun!!! i love you drdt. (ESPECIALLY TERUKO.)