#and probably report you to campus security

[helioooss]

iv. i wanna know peace again

synopsis: after a rare drunken night, y/n wakes up in bed next to the most untouchable girl at yonsei: karina. she’s immediately thrown into a mess she never wanted, torn between her own moral compass and the undeniable pull of something she doesn’t understand. some lines, once crossed, can never be undone.

w/c: 10k+

warnings: heavy cheating, implied sex, alcohol, smoking, just normal uni stuff, swearingggg, slow burn

a/n: this was meant to be the ending…but i’m not ready for the end of it just yet, so here’s more slowburn

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the living room of your dorm is cramped, warm and smells faintly of microwave popcorn and fabric softener. there is half-folded laundry and mismatched mugs in every corner, but it feels safe in the kind of way that only came with familiarity.

twilight flickers on the television screen, casting a bluish tint across the cushions and scattered legs of the half-circle made up of your friends.

giselle is curled up upside down in the armchair with a packet of chips resting precariously on her stomach, ryujin and yujin are squashed together on the floor with ningning leaning against their shoulders and minjeong sits cross-legged closest to the TV, muttering under her breath every time edward speaks.

meanwhile, jimin is nestled against you on the couch, her legs draped over yours, her body soft and her laugh muffled against your neck. she smells like green tea and the faintest trace of your shampoo — she’s been using your shower more often lately, slipping in without asking, like it’s always been hers.

the lines have blurred so much that you’re not even sure what they’re calling this anymore. you never talked about it…but it’s somewhat official.

maybe that’s the point.

“you know,” giselle says through a mouthful of chips, pointing at the screen, “if a guy said half this shit to me, i’d report him to campus security.”

minjeong throws a cushion at her. “shut up, he’s hot.”

“so what?” ryujin snorts, leaning back on her elbows. “so is lucifer on lucifer; doesn’t mean i want him watching me sleep.”

ningning, eyes wide and very serious, turns to you. “but like, if a vampire obsessed over me —”

“ning, don’t start with this shit,” jimin groans, her voice still muffled against your shoulder, her fingers absently tracing a circle into the side of your thigh.

yunjin chimes in. “nah but like, you’d want to know right? if someone was spiritually bound to you for eternity? or imprinted himself?”

“absolutely not,” you mutter, taking a sip from your glass of watered-down cola. “that sounds like a logistical nightmare.”

“okay, well now i need to know who you think would imprint on you,” giselle eyes you, already grinning.

you raise an eyebrow. “me?”

jimin looks up at you. “you’d attract someone chaotic.”

“like who?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“like…a rosalie. high-maintenance. super intense. probably wants to kill you half the time,” she smiles, like she didn’t just describe someone familiar.

“you are the rosalie,” ningning points out and everyone nods a little too quickly.

“i am not!” she whines, feigning offence as she puts a hand over her chest.

it’s so easy to forget that none of this is simple…until the laughter dies down and jimin’s phone buzzes against your leg.

you feel her shift, untangle herself slightly to reach for it and the second her screen lights up, her entire posture changes.

it’s barely perceptible, but it’s there; the drop in her shoulders, the pause in her breathing. she doesn’t say anything, just lifts the phone and stands up without looking at you.

the name glows on the screen long enough for giselle to read it aloud, half-amused. “oh, it’s the jaewook.”

that’s when everything goes quiet.

she answers with a soft, bright voice. “hey,” she greets, her tone too light, too easy. “yeah…no, i’m just hanging out with the girls tonight. hmmm. no, i’m staying in,” she paces the room slowly, her back turned now, voice lowering slightly.

“i know. next weekend, okay? promise,” her tone shifts again, a gentleness slipping in you’ve never heard when she speaks to you. “you too… goodnight.”

when she hangs up, she doesn’t look at you right away; just slides the phone back into her pocket and flops down onto the couch, next to you this time, not on you.

“i hate lying to him,” she admits softly, more to the room than to anyone specific.

nobody responds.

giselle coughs into her hand and refocuses on the TV, ningning crosses her arms, ryujin mouths a dramatic yikes to minjeong and yunjin pretends to not notice.

but you sit there, staring at the flickering screen and feeling everything inside you grow quieter.

it’s a familiar ache now. not new, not sharp…but dull, constant, the kind that settles behind your ribs and lives there.

jaewook always gets the polished version of her.

the girlfriend one.

he gets the smiles with purpose and the quiet reassurances, the soft-spoken goodnights and the planned weekends. you get the late-night phone calls and the rushed kisses outside your dorm. the moments that aren’t meant to last.

the pieces.

he gets the whole; you get the cracks.

her fingers slide into yours gently, curling into your palm like she’s checking you’re still there. when she finally turns to look at you, her eyes soften.

“you okay?” she asks, voice lower now, like it’s just the two of you in the room. her thumb strokes a slow circle against the back of your hand.

“perfect,” you lie.

because you don’t want to ask what the hell you two are anymore. you already know the answer and it’ll feel worse hearing her say it out loud.

she leans her head back against your shoulder again like she didn’t just call her boyfriend sweet and soft and good, as if she didn’t just say i hate lying to him while she kept touching you like you were the one that mattered.

and maybe this is all it’ll ever be — this in-between place, where her hand fits in yours and she smells like your shampoo and twilight plays in the background like a joke everyone’s pretending to take seriously.

maybe this is what she meant by not knowing how to stop.

you’re not sure if you know how either.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the classroom is already cold when jimin pulls you inside, her hand still wrapped around yours like she’s afraid you’ll change your mind if she lets go.

she doesn’t say anything at first. just looks around the empty room with a little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, like she can’t believe she’s getting away with this. the door clicks shut behind you, muting the hallway noise, and the silence that follows is the kind you could get drunk on.

you’ve been here before — same classroom, same time of night, same look in her eyes — but every time still makes your chest ache in a new way.

“ten minutes,” she begins, half-laughing as she tugs you gently by the front of your jacket, guiding you toward the desk at the front. “i swear.”

you raise an eyebrow, stepping back until your hips hit the edge of the desk. “you always say that.”

“and yet,” she murmurs, eyes trailing over your face. “you always show up.”

it’s not meant to be romantic. not really. but it lands that way; maybe everything jimin says lands that way now — too soft, too heavy, too close to something you’ve tried not to name.

when she leans in, her hands slide into the sides of your jacket, palms warm against your waist. her mouth finds yours like it’s second nature, as if there’s nothing in the world she trusts more than kissing you in the dark.

you kiss her back without thinking, your fingers already threading into her hoodie, pulling her close until her body settles between your legs.

there’s nothing rushed about it. no desperation. just warmth and familiarity and the way her lips part against yours like she’s memorised you. you tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss, and she exhales into your mouth like she’s been holding her breath all day.

it’s a dangerous kind of peace, this.

the kind that makes you forget.

you feel her fingers skim beneath your shirt, not far, just enough to find skin. they settle there, unmoving. grounding.

her mouth pulls away just enough for her to speak against your jaw. “i like you so much it’s stupid.”

your eyes shut for a second. her words aren’t new. she’s said them before, usually in a whisper, after pulling away from a kiss she didn’t want to end —but they still catch you off guard. every time.

you feel like you should say something smart, something reassuring, but all that comes out is, “then be stupid with me.”

she laughs into your skin and you know she’s smiling even before she pulls back enough to look at you. her face is close…close enough that you can count every freckle, every slow blink of her lashes. the softness in her expression disarms you.

there are moments with her, quiet ones like this, where it almost feels like nothing’s wrong. like jaewook doesn’t exist. or the lying doesn’t leave a film over your skin that you can’t wash off.

this is one of those moments.

when she kisses you again, it’s slower. her thumb brushes beneath your jaw, tilting your chin up just slightly, like she wants to kiss you properly.

she does.

eventually, she pulls back, forehead resting against yours, her breath still a little uneven. “i have to go home before ningning loses it over me missing dinner,” she murmurs, eyes closed.

“and i was meant to be at the library already.”

“you’re such a good student, baby.”

you both stay there for another minute. maybe two. you’re not sure — time feels unreliable when her hands are still touching you like that.

then, softly, like she’s afraid to sound too eager, she asks, “you’re coming to watch conclave with me, right?”

you blink, a little surprised she remembered. “the rooftop screening?”

“friday night.” she leans back enough to look at you properly. “you said you wanted to watch it.”

“i do,” you say, smiling. “you remembered?”

she presses a kiss to the side of your neck in response, soft and barely there. “of course i did.”

you nod, because of course you’ll go. even if it breaks you. even if it means pretending again.

“promise you’ll come?”

“promise.”

“missing you already,” she pouts.

you chuckle, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. “missing you too.”

when she finally steps back, you feel the loss of her immediately. your body misses her before your mind can catch up.

jimin peeks out the door, checking the hallway. when she turns back, her expression has shifted slightly — soft still, but more alert.

it’s back to reality now. back to the game you’re both pretending not to play.

“you go first,” she says. “i’ll wait a minute.”

you nod before giving her cheek a kiss and slip out into the hall, the cool air biting against the back of your neck. when you glance back, she’s still standing there in the doorway, watching.

you don’t wave. she doesn’t smile.

then you both turn, disappearing in opposite directions, like you hadn’t just kissed each other like people in love even though the storm is already building in the distance.

the smell of whiteboard marker still clings faintly to your sleeve. and her perfume.

your chest is warm and unsettled as you push open the glass doors to the law library. it’s quiet inside, the usual late-night buzz replaced by a kind of clinical stillness. fluorescent lights hum overhead, too bright, and your footsteps echo faintly across the carpeted floor.

you spot her instantly — irene, in her usual seat beneath the far lamp, surrounded by perfectly tabbed casebooks and a colour-coded outline that looks more like art than notes.

your stomach tightens.

for a second, you consider walking past her. not because you don’t want to talk, but because you know she’ll see it on you.

jimin’s touch still lingers at the corner of your mouth. your heart’s still pounding from whatever the hell this is becoming.

fuck.

but you don’t walk past. instead, you approach slowly and slide into the chair across from her, trying to act like nothing’s changed.

“you’re here late,” you offer, voice light even though it falters.

irene doesn’t look up. “so are you.”

you nod, fingers drumming against the side of your laptop. “thought i’d finally get around to reviewing the restitution cases from last week…the reading was a nightmare.”

she turns a page, slow and precise, like she hasn’t heard a word you’ve said.

you shift, trying again. “did you see professor kim’s notes on the precedent change? i swear they’re trying to trip us up on the final.”

nothing. not even a hum of agreement.

finally, she lifts her gaze, and when she does, it’s like a pin has dropped between you. she doesn’t smile. she just looks at you — cool and composed, but not indifferent.

there’s something else behind her eyes, something that makes your throat go dry.

“you know you’ve been showing up,” she begins calmly. “but you haven’t really been here.”

you blink, startled by how fast the conversation veers off course. “what?”

irene leans back in her chair, her hands folding neatly over her book. “i’ve been sitting across from you for three weeks now and it’s like i’m studying alone. your body’s here but that’s about it.”

your breath falters. she’s not wrong. you’ve been going through the motions — showing up for your routines, keeping your notes tidy, pretending nothing’s changed.

but your thoughts are always somewhere else. always with her.

you shrug, trying to play it down. “just…a lot going on lately.”

she tilts her head slightly. “and i want you to be honest with me because right now, you’re lying.

the words sting, more because of the way she says them — not angry, not accusing.

just tired.

you glance down at your hands. “i’m not —”

“you are,” she cuts in. “and i’m not interested in whatever version of the truth you’ve been feeding yourself either.”

a beat of silence passes. you don’t want to say it. you know saying it out loud makes it real.

“so who is it?” she asks, voice quiet but unwavering.

you look up at her, at the way she’s watching you like she already knows the answer, and she does.

of course she does — she’s always been sharp. she never asks a question she doesn’t already know the answer to.

you inhale slowly and the admission spills out because there’s no use hiding anymore.

“karina.”

she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. but something shifts in the air between you, subtle but undeniable.

“does jaewook know?”

you shake your head and shame coils tightly in your chest. “no.”

she sighs, a short breath through her nose.

“so what the fuck are you doing, then?”

you wish you had a better answer. something that sounded less pathetic and less selfish. “i didn’t plan for it to happen.”

her lips press into a thin line. “but you’re still letting it.”

you meet her eyes, and for the first time, it’s hard to hold her gaze.

“because it’s her,” you eventually reply.

the words hang heavy between you, weighted with everything you can’t explain.

she looks at you for a long moment, and then says, quietly, “you don’t even look happy.”

your throat tightens.

“you’ve been — what? getting crumbs of her affection in empty classrooms and quiet corners while she holds someone else’s hand in public?” her voice doesn’t rise, but it cuts. “and you’re okay with that?”

you don’t answer.

“i just thought,” she says finally, standing, gathering her notes with a kind of calm that feels colder than any yelling ever could, “you’d know when something was beneath you.”

and this time, she doesn’t wait for a response. she leaves her lamp on, her chair tucked in, her silence louder than anything she could’ve said.

and you sit there, still warm from jimin’s kiss, but colder than you’ve felt in weeks.

you stare down at your laptop for a minute, blinking at the same sentence in your reading, but nothing registers.

the case summaries feel like static, your notes untouched, the room colder now somehow; too empty. you close the lid gently, quietly, like that’ll soften the blow of how done you are. the chair squeaks as you stand and it echoes too loudly in the silence.

the walk back to your dorm is slow. too quiet. the kind of stillness that presses into your shoulders and makes your steps heavier than they should be. you keep your hands buried in your hoodie pocket and try to will the words away — you don’t even look happy, you used to know when something was beneath you — but they won’t leave.

they feel etched into the back of your ribs.

by the time you unlock your door, your body feels like it’s humming with something you don’t know how to name.

guilt, maybe. or grief. or both.

the house is still. that particular stillness only found when everyone else is already asleep. ryujin’s room is dark. yunjin’s door is cracked open just enough to see the blue glow of her screen. someone’s laundry machine hums behind a closed door down the hall.

otherwise, it’s just you.

your bag hits the floor with more force than you mean it to. you don’t bother changing out of your hoodie. you just crawl under the blanket, shoes off, phone already in your hand like it’s muscle memory.

the weight of irene’s voice hasn’t lifted. it’s sitting squarely in your chest now.

you don’t even look happy.

and the thing that hurts the most is that you know she’s right.

you smell like jimin. still. her shampoo clings to your collar, your lips still sting from the way she kissed you in the empty classroom, soft and sure, as if none of this was going to catch up with you. like she could pretend the future didn’t exist as long as you stayed in the dark.

you want to hold onto that softness. you want that kiss to be the only thing you remember from tonight, but the guilt creeps in before you can stop it.

it always does.

your thumb hovers over her name for longer than you’d like to admit. you almost put the phone down. almost try to sleep it off but the truth is already starting to rot in your chest, and it’s not something you can carry on your own tonight.

you press call. it only rings twice.

her voice is sleepy when she answers, warm and already curling around the edges of your name. “hey, you.”

you close your eyes for a second, just listening. she sounds happy. you almost hang up.

“did i wake you?” your voice is quieter than usual.

“hmm…just a little,” she murmurs, still smiling. “but it’s fine. worth it.”

you roll onto your side, press the phone tighter to your ear, like it might make her feel closer. “i…i didn’t call just to say goodnight.”

her smile fades. you can hear it, the change in her breath. “what’s wrong?”

you pause. let your eyes fall shut again. the words aren’t hard to find, but they’re hard to say. “i saw irene tonight. at the library.”

the other end of the line stills. there’s something careful in the way she exhales. “did she say something?”

you nod before realising she can’t see you. “yeah, she said i’ve been showing up, but not really showing up. that i’ve been somewhere else lately.”

a beat.

“she’s not wrong,” jimin replies gently. and it doesn’t feel like a stab. it feels like a mirror.

you’re quiet for a moment. then: “she asked who it was.”

you don’t need to say it. she already knows. but you do anyway. “i told her it was you…because if she had to ask that question, it means she already knows.”

the line goes still again. and this silence feels heavier like she’s holding her breath on the other end, waiting for what comes next.

you press your hand to your forehead. “she didn’t yell. she didn’t even look angry. she just…looked at me like she expected more.”

her voice breaks a little when it finally comes. “i never wanted to make you feel ashamed.”

“i’m not ashamed,” you say too fast, too sharp. then softer, as your voice steadies. “it’s not shame. it’s just…the truth.”

and it is.

the kind that stares you down in a law library while someone who’s always known better reminds you of the version of yourself you’ve been slipping away from.

you can hear her shift in bed. the rustle of sheets and the soft sigh that says she’s thinking of what to say.

“is she going to tell anyone?”

you exhale, shaking your head. “no — irene’s not like that, she wouldn’t hurt me like that. even if she doesn’t get it.”

there’s a breath of relief on the other end. not loud; just a soft exhale. “okay, thank you. for trusting me with that.”

“it’s not about trust,” you whisper. “i just couldn’t keep it in.”

neither of you speak for a while. the silence settles into something you’ve both learned how to sit in.

“what did you say back?” she asks eventually.

you stare at the ceiling, at the thin crack running across the plaster like a fault line. “nothing. i just sat there and let her be disappointed with me.”

there’s a sharp breath on her end. then silence.

when jimin speaks again, her voice is soft in a way that’s almost painful. “i wish this were easier.”

you nod, not because you agree, but because it’s the only thing left to say. “me too.”

there’s another pause. and then, even quieter: “are you okay?”

you shake your head, then stop yourself. “no, but i will be…i just think…i think this might ruin my friendship with her.”

you hear the shift in her voice when she answers. “do you want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep?”

that offer — so small, so kind — almost undoes you.

“no,” you answer, even though the thought of her voice guiding you into sleep feels like the only thing that could make this night easier. “i’ll be fine.”

there’s a pause. then her voice, soft and close: “i’ll see you friday still?”

you hesitate because you’re scared of what it’s starting to mean — that you’re already saying yes to things that feel like something more.

“yeah,” you respond. “i’ll see you.”

“goodnight, my y/n.”

you let the silence sit for a second before answering. “goodnight, baby.”

you don’t move for a long time after the call ends. not because you’re waiting for something to feel different — but because it already does.

and you’re not sure if that’s good or dangerous. maybe it’s both.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the dorm is loud again. not in the party sense —not yet — but in the way the living room fills with the kind of unfiltered, too-much-energy chaos that always comes when everyone finally has nothing due the next day.

the lights are too bright and there’s music playing from two different phones and it’s driving you insane.

the coffee table is a disaster zone of half-finished takeaway, open textbooks and giselle’s hair straightener for some reason.

you’re curled into the end of the couch, legs tucked up under you, a mug of something lukewarm in your hands while yunjin and ryujin sit cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by empty cans and dangerous ideas.

“we need another party,” she declares, waving the speaker around for emphasis. “something unhinged and god will frown upon.”

“god’s already frowning,” yunjin points out from the floor, one leg crossed over the other as she paints her nails neon green. “you kissed that econ major with the mullet and y/n slept with someone who has a boyfriend.”

“that was charity work,” ryujin mutters.

your eyebrows crease. “what am i copping bullets for?”

giselle’s sprawled on the arm of the couch, sipping from a beer she didn’t ask permission to open and she’s wearing one of your hoodies again; you stopped arguing about it two months ago.

“we should do something more curated next time,” she says, lifting the bottle to her lips. “like an invite-only disaster. exclusive but embarrassing.”

you’re only half-listening, slumped back against the couch with your head tilted toward the ceiling. everything smells like beer and popcorn.

and you’re tired in the way that makes you restless.

“maybe y/n can end up in bed with sana this time,” giselle adds, not looking at you. “make it more complicated.”

you blink. “okay, first of all, that was yonks ago and it wasn’t even —”

“a real thing,” she finishes, grinning. “sure. she just happened to sleep in your bed for yonks.”

“we were drunk —”

“for yonks?”

you groan. “she’s pretty, alright? i didn’t say i wanted her.”

and that’s exactly when the front door opens.

you don’t even have to look. the way the room quiets is enough. it’s not silent — not dramatic. just a soft shift like someone nudged the volume dial.

jimin walks in wearing a red leather jacket and a calm expression that doesn’t match the fact that every girl in this room knows exactly who she is. her hair’s tied up in a clip, her cheeks slightly pink from the cold. she’s holding a paper bag with what looks like drinks or snacks poking out the top.

her eyes flick briefly to you; you can’t read them.

“hey,” she says, to the room. casual. like she didn’t just walk in on a sentence about a girl you used to sleep with.

“hey baby cakes,” ryujin says automatically, biting back a grin.

“we’re just having a little pregame slander session,” yunjin offers, as if that makes it better.

“mm,” jimin hums, setting the bag down on the bench. “should i leave and come back so you can finish?”

giselle laughs. “nah, you got here just in time. we were just talking about your girl’s greatest hits.”

you glare at her. “stop that.”

“or what?” she asks sweetly.

jimin doesn’t say anything. she just crosses the room, still composed and brushes a hand across your shoulder as she passes. let’s go.

“see you guys later,” she hums with a wave of her hand.

“have fun kids!”

you laugh and shake your head as you’re closing the door. “we will, mum.”

it’s immediately silent as soon as you get into the car — in the way where everything feels too loud even when nothing’s being said.

jimin keeps both hands on the wheel. her eyes don’t leave the road, the music is low enough that it barely exists. and you’re hyperaware of the space between your bodies, the way she hasn’t looked at you once since the door shut behind you both.

you try to ignore the weight in your stomach, pretend you didn’t see the shift in her eyes when giselle mentioned sana. you had forgotten, for a moment, that jealousy looks different on her — it’s not sharp, it’s subtle and it sits in her silence.

“you okay?” you ask quietly, eyes still on the window.

she hums, something noncommittal. “why wouldn’t i be?”

you glance over, her grip on the wheel is too tight. “you know you heard that out of context.”

she doesn’t reply. just blinks slowly, tapping her thumb against the steering wheel once. “did i?”

you let out a sigh, shifting in your seat to face her more directly. “she was teasing. i wasn’t serious.”

her voice is quiet when she answers, so quiet you almost miss it. “it’s not her i’m worried about.”

you swallow, lips parting, but nothing comes out.

because you know what she means. and it isn’t about sana. it’s about the fact that you didn’t even notice you were talking like you weren’t already hers — as if the lines still had space to blur.

you want to tell her that there’s no one else. not even close but all you can manage is reach for her hand when she stops at a red light.

she doesn’t look at you. doesn’t have to. but her hand squeezes yours seconds later, resting palm-up as you lace your fingers with hers.

when you pull up to the venue, you half-expected the rooftop to be full. the movie was on the uni events calendar, you even saw someone flyering for it earlier in the week but when you step out of the car and take the elevator up, there’s no crowd.

just string lights, a huge screen already set up against the wall, blankets, cushions, two chairs and a cooler.

no one else.

you turn to her slowly. “did you — ?”

“yeah,” she answers, shoving her hands in her pockets. “i booked it.”

you stare. “you booked the whole rooftop?”

she shrugs like she just picked up extra snacks. “didn’t want to share — want to be able to hold your hand without a care.”

the wind catches the edge of the blanket and you step forward to fix it, mostly because you don’t know what to do with your face. your chest is doing something unfamiliar. aching in a way that feels good and dangerous all at once.

“you’re insane,” you say quietly.

“probably,” she replies. “but it worked.”

you sit beside her, shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing. she opens the cooler and pulls out two cans of lemonade, handing one to you. the screen flickers to life as conclave begins, the opening shot washed in warm tones, the soundtrack soft and swelling.

she doesn’t take your hand right away but she leans against you slowly, like she’s giving you time to lean back.

you do.

when she finally laces her fingers through yours, it’s with purpose like she wants you to know she’s choosing you, here, where no one can see.

and god — you want to believe it’s enough.

for now, it is. the stars above are faint and her shoulder is pressed into yours, and the film plays on, but you don’t watch most of it. not really.

you just sit there, trying not to fall harder.

and failing.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

another afternoon at the shop drags in a way you should’ve expected.

there’s something about autumn light filtering through dusty windows that makes everything feel slower than it is. the streets outside are quiet, a low hum of traffic and wind and the inside of the store smells faintly like old denim and the lavender sachets taehyung insists on hiding between racks of flannel.

you’re half-leaning against the counter, pretending to care about a shipment of scarves that came in knotted and half-tagged, when the door jingles and he walks in — your boss, grinning like he hasn’t aged a day since you met him, hands shoved into the pockets of his oversized coat.

“you look like you’re having a thrilling afternoon,” he says, eyeing the scarf pile.

“i’ve entered a level of boredom that could qualify as spiritual,” you deadpan, barely glancing up. “what brings you here? more ironic corduroy?”

“nah,” he shrugs. “i’m heading to the yonsei game. figured i’d offer a ride to my favourite tragic law student, in case she wanted to experience school spirit and mild emotional damage.”

you laugh, because that’s always been the thing about him — he doesn’t need context to be kind. but you hesitate.

you know jimin will be there.

you also know she won’t expect you to be.

“come on, close up shop,” he demands, already sensing your pause. “you can sit next to me and make fun of rich boys trying to kick a ball straight.”

you exhale slowly. “do i get snacks?”

“i’ll buy you the shitty overpriced popcorn or if you want, a generous bonus for this month’s pay.”

“i don’t want popcorn and i’d rather take the bonus.”

he grins. “deal.”

a few minutes later, taehyung’s parked outside when you lock the doors out the store, leaning against the bonnet of his car like he’s in a coming-of-age film and sipping his iced americano.

“took you long enough,” he teases, waving casually when he sees you push the door open with your tote bag slung over your shoulder.

you scoff, tossing your bag into the footwell as you slide in. the car smells like coffee and mint gum and something vaguely like cedarwood. probably another cologne he refuses to admit he bought from a petrol station — he’s a bit odd like that.

he pulls away from the curb smoothly, music low. something jazzy he probably pretends not to like when jungkook’s in the car.

the late afternoon light cuts across the dash. you slump against the passenger seat, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, watching the blur of trees and brick buildings pass by.

it’s easy like this — being around him.

he doesn’t make you perform, doesn’t ask for versions of you. he just drives, one hand on the wheel, occasionally tapping along to the beat like the city is background noise and not something you’re supposed to be a part of.

“i still can’t believe you said yes,” he speaks eventually, shooting you a sidelong glance. “i thought you were morally opposed to school spirit.”

“i am,” you mutter. “but i was morally opposed to scarf sorting today too. i don’t even know why you order the most random shit.”

he chuckles, the sound low and rough from too many late nights out and not enough water. “and here i thought you were doing it for the love of the sport.”

“please,” you snort. “i don’t even know what position jaewook plays.”

“goalkeeper,” he says immediately. “i don’t know, he’s a bit of a versatile player.”

you turn your head to look at him. “how is that even possible?”

“it’s jaewook,” he shrugs. “he keeps the coach’s job afloat.”

you huff a quiet laugh. silence settles again, comfortable. you don’t mean to go quiet, but you do.

then: “jennie’s new campaign dropped this morning.”

you glance over. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says, smiling faintly. “she looks…i don’t know. happy.”

you nod, understanding what he means without needing him to say it.

jennie…is ready for the world and he isn’t. she was always too big for him, but he loved her anyway.

it’s a quiet ache — the kind that doesn’t ask to be fixed.

“have you talked?”

“yeah, she’s just stressed about all of it,” he opens up. “we’re in that weird stage where we check in but don’t say anything real…like i know i’m going to lose her at some point.”

“that’s still something.”

“yeah,” he pauses. “she asked if you were still single — think she might have a friend for you.”

you shake your head. “what? not this again.”

he laughs. “i told her you’re in a long-term relationship with romantic dysfunction.”

you shove his arm lightly. “fuck off.”

“seriously though,” he continues, more gently now. “you ever gonna let anyone love you properly?”

you stare out the window, lips pressing into a line.

he doesn’t push. just changes the song.

the closer you get to the stadium, the more your chest feels like it’s filling with water. taehyung’s humming to the radio now, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel like he has nowhere better to be — and you’re grateful for that.

grateful that he doesn’t ask why you’re chewing your sleeve, or why your knee keeps bouncing.

because he doesn’t know yet, but that won’t last long.

the traffic thickens near the stadium. students are already crowding the crosswalks in team scarves and blue hoodies, waving plastic clappers and half-eaten fries.

he pulls into a side street and finds a spot almost too perfectly. he’s smug about it. you roll your eyes.

“we’re not sitting near the front, are we?” you ask, dragging your feet as you follow him down the street toward the gates.

“nah,” he says. “i’ve got people seats.”

“meaning?”

“meaning slightly above the vomit line but below the rich kid tier.”

“perfect.”

everything smells like fried food and deodorant and overexcited nerves as you step in. you pass a group of lit students chanting something incoherent, another crew in matching body paint doing a tiktok dance and at least four couples wearing matching jerseys.

you feel underdressed and overwhelmed.

taehyung nudges your shoulder, pointing toward the stairs. “up here.”

you trail behind him up into the stands, where he stops just above the mid-tier seats and gestures to two open spots wedged between a girl in body glitter and a guy in a varsity jacket who’s already half-lost his voice.

“this work?” he asks, but he’s already sitting.

you nod, settling in beside him. it’s loud. you can smell popcorn and cheap beer and the last notes of summer sweat clinging to autumn clothes.

“tae?” the guy beside him turns. “you coming to jake’s after?”

“if by jake’s you mean the place with the sticky floors and illegal tequila, absolutely not,” taehyung grins.

the guy laughs. “classic — still coming to the alumni mixer though?”

“only if you promise not to cry during the speech again.”

“fuck off,” the guy answers and turns back around, but he’s smiling.

taehyung leans toward you slightly, his voice lower. “i think i was in a situationship with half this stadium at one point.”

you huff a breath through your nose. “do they know that?”

“probably not.”

a few minutes later, the game starts.

and that’s when it happens; when you see her.

jimin’s sitting near the centre of the girlfriend section — just elevated enough to be seen, but not front-row enough to seem performative. her scarf’s wrapped neatly, cheeks flushed from the cold. she’s surrounded by three other girls, one of them with a little flag painted on her cheek.

they look like they’ve been here before. like they belong.

she’s smiling. not forced or staged. just…smiling. soft and warm and open in the way she rarely is when it’s just you and her in a dark room. she leans forward as jaewook runs onto the field. claps. says something to the girl next to her that makes them both laugh.

your stomach pulls tight.

there’s no hesitation in her. no second-guessing. no guilt.

this is who she is in public. the girlfriend, the trophy…the right choice.

your hands curl inside your sleeves. the noise of the stadium sharpens around the edges, crowding out your thoughts. someone in front of you chants yon-sei, yon-sei, and it catches like static under your skin.

taehyung notices. of course he does.

he doesn’t say anything. just passes you his drink. it tastes like watered-down coke and lemon and you take it anyway.

the game blurs in parts. there are close calls, a few near misses. someone behind you screams until their voice cracks.

when jaewook blocks a goal, the crowd erupts, and jimin stands with the others, scarf swinging, hands clapping high above her head.

you watch her. not the game.

you watch her be who she is when she doesn’t think you’re looking.

and it hurts.

it hurts in that quiet way that doesn’t ask for attention; just settles in your chest and stays.

“yonsei by four,” the glitter girl says beside you, tapping something into her phone. “i swear, jaewook’s on fire this season.”

“he’s been training outside team hours,” the varsity jacket guy adds. “karina’s been helping him with rehab shit too. they’re, like, golden couple material.”

you blink, hadn’t even realised you were still listening.

taehyung shifts slightly, body angling toward you. “you want to go?”

you shake your head. “no. i just…”

“i know.”

he doesn’t offer a solution, but stays next to you, his knee brushing yours; a steady weight beside the ache in your chest.

the game ends in a win. of course it does.

yonsei explodes and chants fill the air. someone tosses a streamer across the aisle and it lands in your lap. the announcer calls jaewook’s name and the crowd roars.

you and taehyung don’t move right away.

the stadium shifts around you. people climbing over benches, taking photos, calling out to friends. invitations for parties float past your ears like confetti — we’re heading to jake’s! drinks at theo’s! rooftop afterparty!

a girl with a camcorder stops you and taehyung on the way down the stairs. “you guys coming to the quad after? there’s a bonfire and they’re doing shots every time someone says ‘mvp.’”

he smiles politely. “tempting, but we’re old.”

“you’re twenty-nine.”

“ancient.”

she laughs, then disappear into the crowd.

outside, the cold air bites a little harder. students stream past in packs, buzzing with leftover adrenaline. music’s already blaring from a speaker someone dragged onto the footpath. you walk slowly and taehyung doesn’t rush.

and then…

you see her.

jimin, just ahead.

she’s with jaewook. he has his arm around her shoulders, laughing at something someone said. she’s wearing his jacket now. you can see the yonsei logo printed on the sleeve, oversized and unmistakable.

she sees you at the same time.

and your eyes meet.

for a moment, everything goes quiet.

then you nod. small. almost imperceptible.

she opens her mouth — like she might say something, but doesn’t.

you look away first and walk the rest of the way to the car in silence, the sound of cheering still echoing in the distance.

the inside of the car feels warmer than it should. not just from the heater — which taehyung fiddles with half-heartedly — but from the silence that stretches between you like a weight neither of you has named yet.

your seatbelt clicks into place. he starts the engine. there’s a beat of static before the speakers kick in, playing something soft and slow and forgettable.

you stare out the window as the lights of campus blur past. students spilling onto sidewalks, still high off the win, still wrapped in scarves and joy and each other. you watch them move in packs, voices bouncing off the brick walls of the buildings you’ve passed a thousand times. you used to feel part of this place…now you’re not sure what you are.

taehyung doesn’t speak for the first few minutes.

he doesn’t need to.

he’s always been good at letting things breathe.

but then, quietly, without turning down the music or clearing his throat or dressing it up in anything polite, he says: “how long?”

your breath stops. “what?”

his voice doesn’t change. just stays steady, like he’s been waiting for you to catch up. “you and karina.”

you inhale through your nose. let your eyes shut for a second.

he doesn’t ask again. doesn’t pus — he just waits.

“since…the party,” you finally answer, heart skipping a beat. “the last one yunjin and ryujin threw.”

taehyung exhales slowly, nodding like the last piece of the puzzle just slid into place. “and now?”

you shrug. “i don’t know. it’s not — it’s not anything official.”

“but it’s something.”

you nod once; your throat feels tight. “yeah.”

he doesn’t look at you. just keeps driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely near the gearshift. he has this way of listening that feels like standing in warm water — no pressure, no sudden movements, just something steady wrapping around you.

“she looked at you,” he adds. “not just in the stadium. outside too. and i figured you were seeing one of those girls when they kept stopping by when they didn’t need to.”

you chew the inside of your cheek.

“and i thought maybe minjeong…or giselle, ningning was third on that list because i know she’s straight, and karina,” he continues to explain, quieter. “well, never thought of karina.”

your fingers curl into the hem of your hoodie. you don’t know how to explain that seeing her then felt like a goodbye. not because she asked for one, but because you finally understood that she’ll never offer you more than what she already has.

and what she has is crumbs. warm, soft, intoxicating crumbs — but crumbs all the same.

he doesn’t ask for more detail, nor does he ask what happened between you or what didn’t. he just drives, turning down a quieter street now, the road lit in patches by dim streetlamps and fallen leaves swirling across the asphalt.

“you ever think maybe she loves you in the only way she knows how?” he asks, not as a defence. not even as a question, really. just a thought.

you nod. “i think about it too much.”

“and still,” he says, almost to himself, “she puts on his jacket.”

you say nothing because what could you possibly say to that?

he turns left and slows at a light. “you wear your heart so loud,” he murmurs like he’s talking to himself. “always have. it’s one of the best things about you; making space for people to give them room to figure themselves out. but that doesn’t mean you’re the one who has to wait in the dark while they do.”

you swallow hard.

“but people like her…people who live in compartments…they don’t know what to do with someone like you.”

a breath catches in your chest. it’s the second thing someone close to you has said that has slapped you with a reality check.

“just don’t let her keep taking parts of you she’s not ready to hold,” he adds. “you don’t have to disappear just to make her life easier.”

taehyung turns onto your street and slows to a stop in front of the building. the porch light is still on. your bag is heavier now and so is your chest.

you don’t move right away.

“thank you,” you say softly.

he doesn’t smile, not really. just nods once.

“get some sleep,” he replies. “and y/n — don’t shrink yourself for her. not even when it feels like love.”

you open the door. the cold air hits your face.

you look back once before closing it. he’s still watching the road, hands loose, eyes quiet.

you step out into the night. and it feels like the first step away from her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the next few days come by and the dorm is hushed in the way only midday can be — not silent, exactly, but still. still enough that the distant hum of a neighbour’s vacuum and the clink of a spoon in someone else’s sink become entire soundscapes.

sunlight cuts across the floorboards in long, lazy streaks.

it hits the legs of the kitchen stools, the rumpled edges of a hoodie on the back of your chair — jimin’s hoodie. the one she left here two weeks ago like she was coming back the next day.

you haven’t touched it. it just hangs there, like a question you never had the guts to ask.

there’s a textbook open on the floor in front of you, but the words haven’t moved in over an hour. they stare back — dense and stubborn — while your pen rests uselessly in your hand. a set of notes is half-written beside it, your own handwriting trailing off mid-thought.

you had been underlining things at some point, highlighting in long streaks, as if pretending to study would be enough to quiet the echo that’s been sitting in your chest since last night.

but it hasn’t.

the ache hasn’t moved. hasn’t lessened. it just lingers like steam clinging to glass after a shower, invisible until it’s caught in the right light.

outside, you can hear the faint laughter of someone coming back from somewhere, shoes scraping across the entry mat. the front door closes a few minutes later, light footsteps in the hallway — and then giselle appears in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, a container of something in her hands.

pasta. leftover, probably from some girl’s apartment she refused to label anything.

“you’re alive,” she heaves out a sigh, popping a forkful into her mouth.

you nod, still on the floor, back against the bookshelf.

“barely,” she corrects.

you shrug.

she walks over and plops down beside you, sliding the container between you both like it’s a peace offering. “you want some? it’s actually not bad. i think she put truffle oil in it.”

“who’s she?”

“irrelevant,” she answers through a mouthful. “i left before sunrise — was missing you a little too much.”

you let out a sound that’s not quite a laugh. “dickhead.”

for a while, she eats in silence. you watch the way the sauce stains the edge of the lid, how she twists the fork slowly between bites, not looking at you.

“taehyung told me you went to the game.”

the quiet swells. you nod, slow, as you press your lips together.

her eyes stay on the food. “saw her?”

another nod.

you can feel the way she’s waiting, she’s not saying anything until you do. it’s not pressure. it’s…patience.

you shake your head. “i don’t know.”

“that bad?”

“no. just…”

you trail off. the weight of it sits too awkwardly in your mouth.

she nudges the pasta closer to you. you take a bite just to have something to do with your hands.

your voice, when it comes, is thin. cracked at the edge. “i saw a full version of her…of what i don’t get to have.”

her chewing slows. she doesn’t answer immediately — just sits with it.

the silence stretches until it starts to ache. you pick at the edge of the rug. part of you wants her to laugh it off, say something sharp to make it less pathetic to tease you out of it.

but she doesn’t.

“i thought i was fine with it,” you admit. “this whole…whatever we’ve been doing. the secrecy. the sneaking around. i thought i could handle it.”

her gaze finds yours, finally.

“but then i saw her like that,” you continue, voice quieter now. “and it hit me that someone out there gets to love her out loud.”

the words land heavy. right in your chest.

she leans back on her hands, stretching her legs out. she doesn’t speak right away. just watches the ceiling like it might have answers.

“you’re not dramatic for wanting that,” she eventually says. it’s not much. but it nearly unravels you. “people act like being the secret is romantic, like it’s some kind of thrill. but it’s not. it’s lonely. and you end up second-guessing everything, wondering if they’re even thinking about you when they leave the room until it makes you forget you deserve anything better.”

you breathe slowly, letting the words settle somewhere behind your ribs.

the tears don’t fall. not yet but your chest feels full in the worst kind of way.

“what do i do?” you ask, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud.

giselle shrugs, gentle. “you wait. until it stops hurting less to be without her than to be with her like this.”

you nod, even if you’re not ready.

“i’m gonna get ready for class, okay?” she gives your temple a quick kiss and stands eventually, drops the fork in the sink and doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves.

she never does. she just goes, like she knows you’ll still be here. and you will because you don’t know what else to be right now except still.

your phone buzzes in the silence that follows; you don’t move.

you’re tired of answering questions that don’t change anything. tired of checking for her name just to be reminded she’s always careful with it.

so you stay on the floor. the light moves across the room, slow and indifferent.

and for now, that’s all there is.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s after midnight now and the air feels wrong.

the kind of wrong that makes the walls feel too close, it settles behind your ribs and hums there, restless. your curtains are drawn, but the soft amber spill from the streetlamp outside finds its way in anyway, painting the room in quiet shapes.

there’s a glass of water on your bedside table that you haven’t touched. a jumper you haven’t worn in days crumpled at your feet. your phone is on silent, screen down.

you haven’t gone to class since the game. haven’t replied to jimin’s texts. the ones that started light — did you get home okay? — and then turned vague. just your name. just you there?

you are, just not in any way that counts.

you’ve spent most of the last three days watching your ceiling change colour with the light. barely speaking.

every time ryujin knocks on your door, her voice is too soft, like she’s afraid you’ll break if she says your name too loudly. giselle left a banana and two paracetamols on your desk this morning and didn’t say anything at all. yunjin sat beside you last night and watched a whole film in silence, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone.

none of it touches the ache.

the sound of your door opening is so soft you think you’ve imagined it.

but then — movement. the shift of the air. a shadow crossing the narrow slice of light on the floor.

you turn your head.

jimin stands in your doorway.

hair tied up in a half-hearted knot. hoodie hanging off one shoulder, her eyes are ringed with sleeplessness — she looks like she hasn’t brushed her hair in days.

she looks like you feel.

she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask to come in.

she steps inside and closes the door behind her like it’s something she does all the time, as if it hasn’t been days and you haven’t been ignoring her.

she crosses the room slowly and you don’t move. just sit up a little, watching her like a ghost you’re not sure you believe in.

she doesn’t apologise.

she just sits at the edge of your bed and looks at you like she hasn’t seen you in weeks…like the version of you that smiled at her during rooftop screenings and laughed with her on cold pavements is something she can still reach if she sits close enough.

her voice is rough when it finally comes. “i couldn’t sleep.”

you swallow.

there are a hundred things you could say. a thousand versions of why are you here, why didn’t you choose me, what are we doing, what do you want from me.

instead, you say nothing for a long time. and then: “i’m tired.”

not angry. not sharp.

just tired.

she nods once, like she’s heard that in her bones before.

and then she does something worse than apologising.

she pulls back your blanket and climbs into your bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like you haven’t been pulling away in the quietest, most painful way a person can — by disappearing where it hurts.

her body is warm beside yours. too warm. your legs brush and the space between you is barely anything.

neither of you speak.

her breathing evens out, but you know she’s awake. there’s a stiffness in her spine that hasn’t eased; a question in her fingers that haven’t reached for you.

and then, in a whisper so low you barely hear it: “i miss you.”

the words make your eyes sting.

because what does that even mean anymore?

you stare at the ceiling. at the same crack you’ve been tracing for three days. at the nothing that comes after you’ve given someone everything in silence and watched them hand it back in pieces.

you could say i miss you too. you do, but missing her isn’t the problem. the problem is you miss her even when she’s lying right here.

so you stay still.

don’t pull away.

don’t reach for her.

you just lie there beside her, heart tight, body aching and wonder what kind of love hurts like this.

morning hasn’t fully arrived yet — the light coming through your curtains is thin, silver-pale and quiet. it’s the in-between hour, where everything feels slower and slightly out of focus.

you’re not sure what woke you despite not really sleeping. maybe the shift of her breathing, or the weight of her arm around your waist, her wrist loose against your ribs like it belongs there.

jimin’s still asleep.

her body curled close, face turned in toward the hollow of your shoulder. one of her hands is tucked under her cheek and there’s a crease pressed into her temple from your pillow. her breathing is soft, steady.

she looks younger like this. softer. like she’s been fighting something in silence and only lets herself rest here, with you, when she thinks no one can see it.

for a moment, you let yourself pretend.

pretend this is yours. that the night wasn’t a lapse in judgment. that she isn’t going to leave again.

your thumb brushes against her sleeve, just once. and it’s enough to stir her.

her lashes flutter then her eyes open, slow and disoriented. she looks up at you, her face still half-buried in the sheets. for a second, there’s no hesitation in her expression. something almost like peace.

and then her phone buzzes on the nightstand.

neither of you move.

it buzzes again.

she turns her head.

the name on the screen glows like it was waiting for the light to find it — jaewook.

the spell breaks.

you feel her body tense before she even moves. she doesn’t reach for it but doesn’t silence it either; just lets it ring until it stops.

the quiet that follows is deeper than before.

her breath catches — just slightly — and when she exhales, it shudders. like something’s breaking under the surface and whatever piece of herself she’s been trying to hold together is cracking in her throat.

you shift, pulling back just enough to see her face.

her eyes are red.

and that’s when you realise she’s holding back tears.

you don’t ask.

you don’t know who they’re for.

and maybe that’s what hurts most — not knowing whether the guilt in her chest belongs to you or him.

her voice is small when she finally speaks. rough like she’s been carrying it for days.

“i heard them talking,” she whispers.

you look at her but she doesn’t meet your gaze.

“yunjin and irene,” she continues. “in the hallway. they didn’t know i was there.”

your stomach tightens.

her fingers curl slightly, twisting into the fabric between you.

“irene said…you deserve someone who’s all-in, that you shouldn’t have to keep waiting for someone who’s only half-here.”

she laughs. sharp, breathless. not because it’s funny — because it stings.

“and the worst part is…she’s right.”

you remain quiet because you don’t know how to say any of it without sounding like you’re breaking.

because the truth is, you have been waiting.

for her to choose you and say i’m done pretending.

for something to shift — something to give…but nothing has.

and now she’s lying here beside you, crying quietly into your sheets, mourning something she still hasn’t had the courage to leave.

you look at her — this girl you love in too many ways — and all you can do is breathe with her. hold the silence and wait for the next decision you know you’ll have to make.

because it can’t stay like this.

not forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the lecture hall smells like old carpet and too much cologne. it’s too bright for how little sleep you’ve had and the weight of your backpack feels uneven on your shoulders, like your body forgot how to carry things that aren’t grief.

the buzz of conversation hums just beneath the surface, low and casual; students swapping notes, groaning about midterms, pretending the world didn’t shift while you were gone.

you haven’t been here in four days.

four days since you let the campus drift without you. you walk in late, not late enough to be rude. just late enough that no one notices — that’s what you were aiming for.

the back rows are half full. most faces you don’t recognise; economics students, mostly. this is the cross-listed elective you promised yourself you’d pay attention to. you don’t remember the title. something about negotiation or decision theory.

and then you see her again.

irene.

she’s seated two rows from the top, her laptop already open, notes half-typed in her impossible handwriting. she’s in one of her tidy outfits; turtleneck, soft brown coat, hair slicked back into something clean. no eye contact, not yet.

but her bag is sitting on the seat beside her. not on the floor spread out like a barrier.

an invitation, maybe.

you hesitate for a beat. not because you’re unsure, but because you’re tired of pretending you don’t care who you sit beside. you do. it’s always been her…always been easy with her.

you step into the row. slide into the seat without a word. she glances at you, brief.

at least it’s not sharp or cold, you thought.

“hi,” she greets. it’s the first word she’s spoken to you in over a week.

you swallow. “hey.”

you don’t say more. she doesn’t either…not right away.

but she slides a takeaway coffee cup toward you a moment later — long black, extra hot, no sugar. the way you like it. it’s got the little paper sleeve from the corner café. your name isn’t written on it, but you know it’s yours.

you take it with both hands.

the lecturer begins. slides flick onto the screen. people start typing.

you sit there, holding the cup, listening to her breathe beside you. she doesn’t move away. doesn’t shift her weight like your presence makes her nervous. she just sits — poised, efficient, the same as always.

but her elbow brushes yours every time she types, and she doesn’t pull back.

halfway through the lecture, she leans in slightly, still watching the slides.

“you’re back,” she murmurs, so quiet it’s almost just for herself.

you nod.

her lips press into a line. “it’s good.”

“thanks,” you say softly, keeping your eyes on the front.

the voice of the lecturer fades in and out around the edges of your focus, and the only thing that tethers you to the moment is the sound of irene’s fingers on the keyboard.

by the time the slides switch to case examples, you’re both leaning slightly toward each other. not touching, but aligned. a tilt of the shoulder, perhaps a quiet truce.

when the lecture ends, she stands, smooth and unhurried.

“brunch?” she asks, like she hasn’t been waiting to ask. like she didn’t spend the last week giving you distance so you could feel the space you made.

you nod.

outside, the campus is soft with wind. gingko leaves collect in little golden drifts against the steps and a few first years in yonsei hoodies jog past with takeaway cups balanced between their hands. you and irene walk in step, just like always, hands in your coat pockets, quiet until you reach the corner café that knows both your orders by now.

you take the table by the window that’s always too sunny after 10 a.m. the waitress doesn’t ask. just brings your long black and her oat flat white like it’s muscle memory. you peel the lid off your cup slowly.

the silence isn’t heavy — just full. like both of you are still stretching into the shape of being close again.

she pulls her sleeves over her hands. “you look like shit.”

you snort. “thanks.”

she takes a sip of her coffee. doesn’t smile. “you been eating?”

“barely.”

a pause.

“sleeping?”

“not really.”

her jaw shifts. “you should’ve told me.”

you hummed. “i know.”

the food comes; eggs and toast and something green you didn’t order but know you’ll eat anyway. halfway through your plate, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

you chose to ignore it.

a shadow moves across the table a second later, and when you look up, to your surprise, jimin is standing there.

she’s wearing a navy coat you’ve seen before, hair in a clip, eyes faintly red like she’s been rubbing them. she’s holding a paper bag in one hand and a smoothie in the other. not dressed up or trying. just there.

“hey,” she greets, voice quiet. it’s directed at both of you, but mostly you.

you blink. “hi.”

she hesitates then glances at irene. “is it okay if i sit?”

irene doesn’t look at you. she just moves her fork slowly across her plate. “sure.”

the word is sharp and soft at once.

jimin lowers herself into the seat across from you. the smoothie lands gently on the table. she slides the paper bag toward you without a word. you open it and find the same sandwich she made you last week, wrapped in paper, the corner folded down with care.

you don’t know what to say, so you press your hand to the bag for a second. then let it go.

she looks at you for a long time, her expression is unreadable. but something in her jaw shifts when she glances back at irene.

“you two have this every week?” she asks, trying for casual.

“since second year,” irene replies without missing a beat.

it’s not meant to be hostile. it just is.

jimin nods once, slow.

you drink your coffee like it’s something to do with your hands. no one speaks for a moment.

a gust of wind lifts a pile of leaves against the glass outside and a couple walks past laughing, arms linked, heads pressed together. the kind of closeness you’ve been living in the absence of.

irene finishes her meal and sets her cutlery down neatly, wipes her mouth with the edge of a napkin. then turns to you.

“you coming to class tomorrow?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she stands. slides her coat over her shoulders with clean, practiced movements; doesn’t look at jimin again.

before she walks away, she rests a hand on your shoulder for the briefest second.

and then she’s gone.

jimin stares down at the table. her fingers trace the condensation on the smoothie cup, slow and aimless.

“i didn’t think she’d be that cold,” she murmurs.

“she’s not,” you sigh. “that was polite.”

she swallows, nodding. “right.”

the silence that follows says everything neither of you want to name. she’s trying. she’s showing up. but something still isn’t lining up — and now someone else has seen it, too.

you look out the window.

and for the first time, you wonder if she can ever close the gap she keeps stepping into.

she doesn’t say anything for a while.

her fingers keep moving — over the rim of the smoothie cup, down the side of the paper bag, folding and unfolding the corner of a napkin like she needs something to do to stay still. she’s sitting across from you but feels further than she was three days ago, when she climbed under your sheets like she belonged there.

she looks tired. the kind that sleep doesn’t fix. like something inside her’s been fraying for a while, and she’s only just noticed the threads pulling loose.

you don’t touch your sandwich.

she glances up once, meets your eyes, then looks away just as quickly.

“she doesn’t like me,” she says with such finality, voice too quiet for the hum of the café.

“it’s not about liking you,” you murmur.

“feels like it is.”

you rest your elbows on the edge of the table, hands curled loosely around your cup. the warmth has faded and the coffee’s cold. you don’t remember the last time you drank it.

“irene’s protective,” you defend. “and she’s careful. she doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.”

she nods slowly. you can tell she already knows what you’re saying; that it’s not about manners. that whatever irene didn’t say said enough.

the sky shifts — clouds thickening, light dimming. you glance at her then, really glance and she looks…exhausted. not just in her eyes, but everywhere. her posture, her breath, the way she’s curling into herself like she knows she shouldn’t have come.

but she did.

and now she’s sitting across from you, hurting in a way you almost recognise. almost.

“do you want to walk back?” she asks, not quite hopeful, not quite resigned.

you stare at the edge of the table between you, at the ring her drink left behind on the wood. something about it feels metaphorical. something about it makes you want to say no.

but instead, you stand.

because you’re not ready to let her go. not yet.

and she knows that. that’s the problem. she always knows.

the air outside is colder than before. there’s that late morning chill that clings to your sleeves, brushes the back of your neck. your coat’s zipped halfway, but you don’t fix it. jimin walks beside you, arms crossed like she’s holding herself in. her steps are slower than usual, like she’s trying to stretch the short walk across campus into something longer. like if she keeps moving slowly enough, maybe you won’t leave her behind.

neither of you speak.

your shoes scuff the path in sync. someone bikes past with a pastry bag hooked on their handlebars. you watch it swing slightly with each bump, more focused on that than the silence between you.

she keeps stealing glances.

not big ones — that flick to you and back again, like she’s checking for signs. checking to see if you’re still here.

if you’re still hers in the small ways that matter.

you think about how quiet she was at the table. how still she sat when irene’s voice cut clean between you. she didn’t push back and you’re not sure if that made it better or worse.

her fingers brush yours once. not on purpose. not quite accidental either.

you don’t pull away.

“hey,” she says after a while. voice soft. not careful, but…small.

you glance at her.

she’s still not looking at you. eyes on the path ahead. brow furrowed like she’s working up to something she’s not sure how to carry.

“my parents are in town next weekend.”

you blink. “okay.”

she slows a little more. her shoe nudges a loose pebble across the concrete.

“they’re hosting dinner. at ours.” a pause. “i haven’t told them…anything. just that i wanted to bring someone special.”

your pulse shifts. you feel it — low and hot in your throat.

she bites her lip in the way people do when they’re genuinely unsure. when they’re not performing softness but trying to ask for something without the words cracking in their mouth.

“will you come?”

and it hits you. not hard, not loud — just steady. weighted. like something being placed in your hands you’re not sure how to hold.

you don’t know why you say yes.

you don’t know what it means that she asked.

maybe it’s the way she said someone. not a friend.

or maybe it’s just the way she’s looking at you now — finally. like there’s no script, no layers. she’s asking you not as the girl she kisses behind closed doors, but as the one she’s scared to want out in the open.

so you say it. quiet. unsteady.

“yeah. okay.”

her whole body shifts. you feel it beside you — the tension that slips just enough for her shoulders to drop. like she’s been holding her breath for days.

“next sunday?” she says, barely above the breeze.

you nod. “got it.”

she smiles then, soft and wrecked and still a little afraid. and you keep walking side by side. not touching.

but still, for now, walking the same way.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the apartment smells like real food for the first time in weeks.

not microwave popcorn or ramen. it’s actual food — garlic and tomatoes and something vaguely herby that giselle refuses to name. she’s standing by the stovetop like it’s a cooking show, towel over her shoulder, hair tied up with a scrunchie stolen from ningning.

there’s a pan of bubbling sauce, a pot she keeps lifting the lid on dramatically, and garlic bread that’s already half burnt because yunjin “forgot” to check the oven when she was told to.

everyone’s here. even ryujin, who claimed she had plans but came home anyway. they’ve all been quiet around you — not weird, just gentler like you’ve turned into something made of glass, and no one wants to be the one to knock you over.

but tonight, there’s music. some playlist that’s been on since giselle started chopping onions. and the table’s set. plates stacked, candles lit — the kind you found on sale at daiso last month and never used.

you’re sitting at the far end, watching yunjin and ryujin quietly bicker over who burnt the bread, voices low but faces tight. it’s not serious — it never is, but the tension feels louder than it needs to be.

you lean forward, resting your elbow on the table. “it’s okay,” you breath out, voice dry. “just say it out loud.”

ryujin blinks at you. then shrugs. “okay. she left it in for too long.”

“i was checking the sauce,” yunjin snaps.

“no one fucking asked you to check the sauce.”

“giselle asked me.”

“i asked you both,” giselle mutters from the kitchen, already sounding annoyed.

“it’s still edible,” yunjin adds, ripping off a chunk and stuffing it into her mouth. “barely.”

you watch them with a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. for the first time in days, you feel here.

giselle finally brings over the pot — something creamy and full of mushrooms — and starts serving with the pride of a woman who hasn’t cooked in two months.

you take your plate with both hands. “thank you,” you say quietly.

she sits beside you. “don’t thank me until you’ve tried it.”

you try it and it’s good. maybe even great. someone makes a joke about opening a restaurant. someone else suggests they’d be bankrupt in a week. and the garlic bread gets eaten anyway.

the conversation wanders. it always does — old memes, worse exes, a professor who got fired for saying something weird in a lecture.

no one brings up her. not at first.

but the silence that follows after everyone finishes eating is thick. full of things that want to be said. giselle’s twirling her fork, ryujin’s pushing the crust of bread across her plate, and yunjin’s just watching you now, head tilted.

you exhale. “she asked me to meet her parents.”

the room stills.

you don’t look up, shamefully just keep your eyes on your plate; the sauce is drying at the edges.

“who?” ryujin says, like it’s not obvious.

you glance up. “jimin.”

no one moves. not really; just a shift in posture, a flicker of breath.

“and you said yes?” giselle asks, gently…not accusing.

you answer with a nod.

“why?” that’s yunjin. always blunt.

you pause. “because she asked.”

it’s the truth. it’s also not enough.

“babe,” ryujin begins, and you know what’s coming before she even says it. “this isn’t…this isn’t what it’s supposed to be.”

“she’s trying,” you defend quickly. too quickly. “she’s showing up more. she’s — she made me food.”

“food?” she repeats. “like what, a fucking sandwich?”

“shut up,” you mutter, but your laugh dies fast.

giselle sets her fork down. “we’re not saying this to gang up on you.”

“you are!”

“maybe,” ryujin agrees. “but, like, lovingly.”

you roll your eyes, but your chest feels tight.

“we’re just worried,” yunjin continues, softer now. “we see you every day. and you’re not…you’re not fine.”

no one speaks for a long time.

you stare at the table, at the way the candle flickers against the edge of your water glass. your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to.

“it’s not all bad.”

“we know,” giselle mumbles. “but is it good?”

you don’t answer…because that’s the question, isn’t it? not does she love you or do you love her back.

but is this love helping you breathe, or is it the thing keeping your lungs full of water?

no one pushes you to answer. they just sit there, with you, in the heaviness. no judgement. just concern. just the sound of someone clearing their throat and someone else pouring more water, like any of it might loosen the knot in your chest.

you don’t know what you’re going to do.

but for the first time in days, it feels like you might have to figure it out alone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the apartment is unusually quiet for a friday night. no bass from the neighbours downstairs, no ryujin yelling over bluetooth, no yunjin trying to fry something she’ll forget on the stove.

just you and giselle on the couch, the soft flicker of a muted documentary lighting the room in pale, shifting blue. there’s a half-finished bowl of popcorn between you, forgotten somewhere around the mating rituals of tropical birds.

neither of you are talking. but it’s not uncomfortable.

her feet are propped on the coffee table, one sock falling off her heel. her head rests against the armrest, legs bent slightly, her phone loose in her hand like she wasn’t even using it. you’re lying sideways, legs draped across her lap, one hand resting absently against your stomach. there’s an ease between you that doesn’t need filling.

it’s strange how long you’ve lived together — how many nights you’ve shared in silence, in mess, in too-loud music and ramen-fuelled laughter — and still, sometimes, she feels like a mystery. not distant nor layered, more like someone you know by feel but never entirely by name. you think she likes it that way. maybe you do too.

she tosses a piece of popcorn at your hoodie. misses. you don’t react.

“you’re quiet tonight,” she speaks eventually.

“so are you.”

she shrugs. “you’re heavier than usual. thought i’d let you be.”

you hum under your breath. not a real answer. but she doesn’t push.

a bike bell rings faintly down the street and a breeze passes through the crack in the window you never fixed. you stretch your legs slightly, feel her hand land on your shin in reflex, light and grounding.

“you ever think about how weird this is?” you murmur.

she raises an eyebrow. “this?”

“us. the way we know everything and nothing about each other.”

she turns her head to look at you properly now, eyes narrowed in thought. “yeah,” she agrees wholeheartedly. “but i think that’s why it works.”

you nod as you let your head rest back into the pillow.

for a moment, it feels like peace.

until the front door clicks open.

you both freeze — not with fear, but with recognition. the shape of the footsteps, the sound of a bag strap brushing the wall.

jimin.

she appears in the doorway seconds later, dressed in that navy coat she always wears when she’s been out longer than she meant to. her cheeks are pink from the cold, hands still in her pockets as her eyes find you instantly.

she sees you first.

then giselle.

her posture shifts just slightly.

“hey,” she greets.

giselle sits up, one arm still resting along the back of the couch. “you’re back.”

“yeah.” jimin’s voice is soft as she glances between you both, like she’s trying to measure something. “sorry. i didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“you’re not,” giselle disagrees, but her gaze lingers.

“can i talk to you?” jimin asks, this time only to you.

you feel giselle glance your way before she rises, slow and wordless, collecting her glass as she goes. she claps a hand lightly on jimin’s shoulder as she passes — not cold, not warm either. just familiar.

a reminder that they used to be good friends before all of this started shifting in ways no one could quite keep up with.

the silence stretches as jimin watches her disappear down the hallway.

she waits.

eventually, you stand as you walk into your room without looking back.

she shuts the door behind her with a kind of finality that makes the whole room shrink. no loud click or drama. just the soft, deliberate sound of someone sealing themselves into a space they don’t know how to exist in anymore.

you don’t look up at first. you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, hands braced on your knees like they might keep you from slipping. your back is straight. your jaw is tight. and your chest…god, it’s full. too full. like something’s pressing at your ribs, trying to get out.

you feel her move closer.

feel the way her presence shifts the air, makes it warmer, makes it worse.

she doesn’t sit beside you. not yet. she just hovers there, like she’s waiting for permission to speak even though she never needed it before.

“what’s going on?” her voice is quiet. tired. maybe she already knows. maybe she just wants to hear it fall apart from your mouth.

you stare at your hands. they’re shaking a little. you hadn’t noticed.

she exhales when you don’t answer. takes a slow step forward. “do you still want me?”

you laugh — not because it’s funny, but because it hurts. because it’s such a ridiculous thing to ask when you’ve spent the past month pulling yourself apart just to make space for her. just to make the feelings small enough that she wouldn’t run from them.

“of course i do,” you whisper. “what a silly thing to ask.”

she kneels down then, in front of you, and places her hands gently on your knees. like she’s trying to anchor you…or she’s trying to stay anchored herself.

you finally look at her.

and there it is — the girl you love, looking at you as if she’s drowning too.

your throat burns. your voice is rough when it comes. “but i can’t keep doing this, jimin.”

she doesn’t move.

“i wake up every day feeling sick,” you confess, the words spilling faster now, like they’ve been sitting too long. “i’m the worst version of myself because i keep letting this happen. because i keep letting you happen to me.”

she flinches, but doesn’t look away.

“i’m not someone who sneaks around,” you continue as you look down at her. “i’m not someone who hides. i’m not someone who falls for people who belong to someone else, but somehow—” your voice breaks. “somehow i did.”

you pause. press the heels of your hands into your eyes. “and the worst part is,” you add, barely above a whisper now, “i think you’re unhappy too.”

she breathes in sharply.

“i see it in your eyes,” you say before she can deny it. “when you’re with him; when you’re with me. you’re torn in half. and i’m holding one piece like it’s the whole thing, but it’s not. it’s never been.”

you look at her again.

she’s crying now. silently. the way she always does like she hates letting you see it. and still, you go on.

“i want peace, i want to sleep without this guilt. i want to look at myself in the mirror and not hate the girl staring back.”

she opens her mouth, but you shake your head. “don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you whisper.

“i’m not,” she replies, and it breaks something in her throat. “i’m not — please. just…just a little more time. i swear i’ll leave him after winter break.”

your chest caves. because she always says after. after the break. after the game. after the next right moment.

“why not now?” you ask, voice raw.

she looks at you like you’ve asked her to jump. and maybe you have. “because i’m scared,” she answers. “because i don’t know how to hurt someone who’s only ever been good to me.”

“so you’ll keep hurting me instead?” it slips out before you can stop it. soft, sharp.

she chokes on a breath.

“i love you,” she admits with such finality. suddenly, it’s been waiting behind every word. “i love you.”

you freeze.

because you want it. god, you want it. you’ve waited for it. but hearing it now feels like bleeding into someone’s hands after they’ve already broken your skin.

you close your eyes. “i love you too.”

and still — when she leans in, forehead against yours, crying softly into the space between you, you let her stay there.

this is what it’s like, you think. to be loved in halves. to be looked at like everything is fine when the rest of your world still feels like it’s bleeding out beneath your feet.

but you smile anyway.

because if there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s how to make longing look like patience, how to make pain look like poise and how you’re not ready to walk away from the ache just yet.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

v. i want you to need me

[winterlico]

LATE NIGHT ᰔ sim jaeyun .ᐟ

﹙ masterlist﹚──── sim jaeyun x fem!reader ⚡︎ fluff , mention kiss , make out ⸝⸝ 運命 ◦ aprox 88303 wc ‼

feedbacks ୨୧ reblogs

The night air feels cool against your skin as you walk alone across the quiet campus, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the concrete. You’ve stayed late at the library again, buried under the weight of microbiology textbooks and lab reports. It's almost 2 AM, and the campus is mostly empty, save for a few students rushing to their late-night study spots or the occasional campus security guard making their rounds.

You’d been lost in your thoughts when the sudden sound of crashing and fighting from a nearby alley snaps you out of your daze. It’s not the usual late-night chaos, though—it sounds… different. More intense. You hesitate for a moment, your curiosity pulling you toward the noise.

Just as you approach the corner of the campus building, you freeze. A figure, clad in a red-and-blue suit, is weaving in and out of shadows, effortlessly dodging punches from a group of thugs who clearly don’t stand a chance.

Spider-Man. You’ve heard the rumors, seen the viral videos online. You never thought you’d actually encounter him, especially not this close. And not this late.

Your heart races, half from excitement, half from fear, as you stand rooted to the spot. The way Spider-Man swings through the alley, his movements so smooth, almost like he’s dancing, makes your breath catch in your throat. You can’t look away. His webbing, gleaming in the dim light, zips around and disarms one of the attackers, sending him stumbling backward.

Your eyes follow his movements with awe, but then, something happens that you didn’t expect. Spider-Man pauses for a brief moment, his chest heaving as he pulls his mask off, just slightly, to take a breath. The alleyway is silent for a split second, and in that instant, you see his face.

You freeze, eyes widening. It’s him. The guy from your biology class—Jake. You’d noticed him before, his quiet confidence and the way he carried himself. You had never suspected him to be, well, Spider-Man.

Jake, realizing what he just did, seems to snap back to reality. His eyes meet yours across the alley. A brief, awkward moment hangs in the air before he swears under his breath, pulling the mask back over his face. “Uh… not what I meant to do,” he mutters, clearing his throat.

You stand there, frozen, unsure if you should say anything. His posture is tense, shoulders squared as he awkwardly shifts his weight. There’s no denying it now—he’s Spider-Man.

“Jake?” you say, voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process everything. "You... you're—"

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he says quickly, still trying to avoid eye contact. "I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. You should... probably head back to your dorm. It's not exactly safe around here."

You blink in disbelief, still not sure how to respond. “But… you just—” Your voice trails off, a thousand questions rushing to your mind. "You're—Spider-Man."

He nods, looking sheepish for a moment. “Yeah. I kinda have a thing for keeping the city safe.” His tone is casual, as though casually revealing his secret identity isn't the least bit weird. “Guess I’m not as good at this stealth thing as I thought.”

You take a step closer, still in shock. "You… you just fought off a group of guys. What are you—?"

“Just trying to keep things from going sideways,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “You know how it is. Some nights, the bad guys just don’t want to stay in their lane.”

“I can’t believe this,” you mumble, a little breathless. “You’re Spider-Man. You’re, like, a superhero.”

Jake shrugs, his typical confident smirk returning to his lips. “Well, yeah, but I’d prefer ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,’ if you’re asking for preferences. It’s a bit less… dramatic.”

You shake your head, laughing despite yourself. “This is insane. How long have you been… doing this?”

He tilts his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief now. “Long enough to get pretty good at it. But I’ve always managed to keep my two worlds separate. Until now, I guess.”

“Yeah, now you’ve got me to keep a secret,” you reply, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He gives you a playful look, raising an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll have to be careful, princess. Not everyone can handle the truth. Especially when you’re not supposed to know.”

“You’re going to keep calling me that, aren’t you?” you ask, your smile widening.

“You bet,” he says with a grin, his tone light but affectionate. “Now that you know my secret, you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension from the strange situation beginning to ease. “I think I can handle a little teasing. You’re lucky I’m not calling the cops on you.”

Jake chuckles, clearly relieved. “I don’t think that would go over well. Besides, you wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun.” He shoots you a wink, his usual cocky self returning in full force.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way your heart flutters at the way he looks at you, even with his mask on. You’ve always admired him from afar, but this? This was something else entirely.

As the sound of sirens approaches in the distance, Jake stands tall, ready to leave. “You should head back to your dorm, princess. I’ll take care of the rest here.”

“Be careful, okay?” you say, your voice softening. There’s something about this whole situation—his vulnerability, his strength, the way he’s trying to keep it all together—that makes you want to say more, but you don’t.

He flashes a grin, nodding. “Always am. And hey… if you need anything, I’ll be around.” His wink is mischievous, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your heart race even faster.

You watch as he swings up into the night, the distant sound of his webs twirling around filling the air. It all feels surreal, like you’re still caught in some strange dream. And yet, as you make your way back to your dorm, you can’t help but smile. Jake had just pulled off the biggest plot twist of your life, and you’re pretty sure this was only the beginning.

The air is still warm from the day’s heat, and the night feels like it’s just beginning to settle in as you walk back from the grocery store, your arms weighed down with bags. You’ve had a long day at the lab, and all you want now is to get back to your dorm, eat something quick, and maybe relax for a bit. The street is dimly lit, only a few other students walking to their own destinations, and the quiet of the campus feels peaceful, almost comforting. You hum softly to yourself, oblivious to the footsteps behind you that seem to follow just a little too closely.

As you round the corner near your dorm, a chill runs up your spine. You can feel it now, the tension in the air. Something isn’t right. You pick up your pace, glancing around, but it’s too late. The men step out from the shadows, blocking your way. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as one of them pulls a knife from his pocket, the blade gleaming under the streetlight.

“Hey, princess,” one of them sneers, his breath foul in the still night. “Looks like you’ve got some pretty nice bags there. Hand them over, and maybe we won’t make a mess.”

Your stomach drops. You can feel the panic rising, but you try to stay calm. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, and you’re not sure how to handle it. The knife in the man’s hand glints, and the other one takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.

“Please,” you say, your voice trembling. “I don’t want any trouble. Just take the bags.”

“Smart choice, but not enough,” the man with the knife growls. “You don’t get to decide anything here.”

You back up a little, but your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to escape. You know you can’t outrun them. You feel a familiar panic bubble in your chest—this is real, and there’s nowhere to hide.

But just as one of the men reaches for the bag, you hear it. A soft thwip sound in the air, followed by a loud crash as something crashes into the ground behind you. The men are distracted for just a second, looking over their shoulders, and in that moment, a figure swings down from the nearby building. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you’re pulled into the strong embrace of someone, their arm wrapping tightly around your waist.

“Did you miss me, princess?” Jake’s voice comes through the dark, warm and teasing, but there’s an edge of protectiveness in it that makes your heart skip a beat.

You look up at him, his familiar red-and-blue suit shining faintly in the streetlight, his mask pulled down just far enough that his eyes lock with yours.

“Jake?” you whisper, your breath caught in your throat. The realization hits you all at once. You almost can’t believe it—again. It’s him.

But there’s no time for explanations. The thugs are already recovering from the surprise of his sudden appearance. One of them lunges forward with the knife aimed right for Jake’s chest, but Jake’s quick, his reflexes honed from countless close calls. He dodges, twisting around and sending a webbing shot that wraps around the man’s wrist, pulling him off balance. With a swift motion, Jake kicks the man to the ground, leaving him groaning in pain.

The second attacker tries to make a run for it, but Jake doesn’t give him a chance. In one smooth move, he launches himself forward, webs shooting from his wrists and pinning the guy against the brick wall of the dorm. You watch in awe as Jake effortlessly takes control of the situation, even as the men struggle beneath his hold.

“Not so tough now, huh?” Jake taunts, his voice laced with playful confidence. He stands over the two thugs, surveying them with an almost casual expression. “You should know better than to mess with someone’s girlfriend. Especially my girlfriend.”

You blink, your heart skipping at the way he says it, the way he casually claims you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. His tone isn’t possessive, but the tenderness behind the words is unmistakable.

But before you can respond, he turns his attention back to the criminals, his body moving in a blur as he effortlessly subdues them, tying them up with webbing and making sure they can’t escape. Within seconds, they’re left incapacitated, groaning on the ground, helpless.

“Done and done,” Jake says, his tone light as he walks back toward you. His mask pulls down over his face fully again, but his eyes still find yours. “You okay, princess?”

You nod, still stunned by everything happening so quickly. “Yeah. I think so. I just… I can’t believe you showed up. You saved me.”

Jake grins, that familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I’ve got my eye on you, remember? You’re my responsibility now.”

You swallow, heart still racing from the adrenaline, but there's something comforting about his words, the way he stands in front of you, making you feel like you’re safe despite everything. His presence alone is enough to calm the storm in your chest.

“I guess this is part of your superhero gig, huh?” you say, trying to lighten the mood, even though you’re still a little shaken.

“You got it,” Jake says, chuckling as he steps closer.

“But you should know, I’ve got a pretty personal interest in protecting you now.” He pauses, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. “Don’t go wandering off at night again. It’s dangerous out here.”

“I won’t,” you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake smirks, then without warning, he reaches for your hand, gently pulling you close to his side. “Good. Now, how about we get you home safe and sound, princess?”

Your heart skips again as you look up at him, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

You walk with him toward your dorm, the weight of the grocery bags almost forgotten, your mind still racing with everything that just happened. But as Jake keeps you close, his hand never leaving yours, the world suddenly feels a little safer. It’s not just about the bad guys anymore. It’s about him, and the way he makes you feel like nothing could ever go wrong with him by your side.

You’re still trying to process what just happened—your near-mugging, the way Jake swooped in, effortlessly neutralizing the threat, and now, standing in front of you with that signature grin of his. The adrenaline is still pumping in your veins, and your heart is pounding, not just from the close call but from the way Jake has completely thrown you off balance.

You should be taking a breath, maybe calling the authorities, or even just walking back to your dorm to recover. But instead, Jake is standing there, eyes gleaming with that mischievous spark, as if the world’s danger doesn’t even faze him. His tone is casual when he speaks, though there’s something more playful underneath it, something you can’t quite place.

“You know,” he says, his voice low, teasing, “since I’m already here… How about I take you home in style?”

Your heart skips a beat, the words barely registering in your brain before the rest of what he says sinks in.

“Style?” you repeat, blinking at him, still trying to catch your breath. “How… what do you mean?”

Jake’s grin widens, and before you can fully process the situation, before you can even think about arguing or running away, he does the last thing you expect.

One smooth motion, and you’re scooped up effortlessly in his arms. Your breath catches in your throat, panic flooding in as you instinctively grab onto his shoulder. “Jake—! Wait, no—!” You try to pull away, but his grip on you is firm, secure.

“Relax, princess,” he says, his voice teasing. “This will be fun, I promise.”

Your pulse races as the world shifts beneath you. You don’t have time to respond before Jake leaps off the ground. The wind rushes past you, your feet no longer touching the ground. The sharp sensation of flying fills your senses as he swings between buildings with you still cradled in his arms. You yelp in surprise, your heart leaping into your throat. You’ve never experienced anything like this—never thought you’d be soaring through the night sky like this.

“Jake!” you shout, gripping him tighter, your body instinctively tensing at the rush of the swing. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your heart races, the wind tearing past you too fast for your brain to keep up.

Jake’s laughter echoes above the sounds of the city, clear and carefree. “Don’t worry, princess, I’ve got you.” He shifts slightly, adjusting the way he’s holding you to make sure you feel secure, though the way your body is pressed so close to his only intensifies the wild thrumming in your chest.

It’s not until the next swing, when the world blurs in a rush of neon lights, that you dare open your eyes.

The city sprawls beneath you, like a million little lights scattered across a dark canvas. The buildings rise high, their sharp silhouettes glowing against the dark sky. The streets below are quiet, almost peaceful, and for a moment, it’s as if you’re outside of time. You can see everything—the bustling city, the people moving like tiny dots below you. It feels surreal, like something out of a dream.

The initial shock starts to wear off, replaced by something else, something more exciting, as your grip on Jake’s shoulder slowly loosens. Your eyes widen at the breathtaking view before you, and with the night air rushing past you, you can’t help but let out a soft laugh, the thrill of it all sinking in.

“This is… this is crazy,” you breathe, your voice trembling, but not from fear anymore. From exhilaration. You can feel your body relaxing into his arms as you start to get used to the rhythm, the swings between the buildings, the pull of gravity, and the rush of flying through the night.

Jake glances at you from the corner of his eye, still grinning, clearly enjoying every second of this. “Told you. It’s like nothing else, right?”

You nod, still wide-eyed. “I didn’t expect this. I’ve never—”

“Never flown between buildings like this, huh?” Jake interrupts with a playful tone. “It’s a first for everyone. But I’m glad you’re not freaking out.” He flashes you a wink, his cocky grin back in full force.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’m too dazed to freak out,” you mutter, looking down again at the city lights below you. It’s like you’re suspended in time, the whole world below you both still and peaceful.

Jake’s voice drops lower, more thoughtful now as you continue to swing. “There’s something about the city at night. Everything feels different from up here. Feels… right, you know?”

You look at him, a little surprised by the shift in his tone. There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks at you, something more than the usual teasing or playful banter. It’s just the two of you up here, suspended in the air, and for a moment, you feel a strange kind of connection—a shared understanding.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your heart still fluttering. “I think I get it now.”

Jake smiles, but it’s softer this time, a subtle warmth in the way his eyes linger on you. “You’re braver than I thought, princess. Not a lot of people could hang on this long without panicking.”

You can’t help but laugh, a little embarrassed. “Well, when you’re Spider-Man, I guess you kind of have to keep up, huh?”

Jake laughs with you, his voice light and carefree, and you feel the tension from earlier slip away. With every swing, the city below you seems more alive, the world seems more exciting, more full of possibility. In Jake’s arms, you feel a sense of comfort, despite the insanity of it all.

As you continue to swing through the night, you can’t help but wonder if maybe this crazy ride isn’t so bad after all.

The air feels charged as Jake swings through the city, his movements fluid, graceful, like a part of the night itself. You’re still wrapped up in his arms, the wind whipping around you as he deftly maneuvers between towering buildings. Every twist and turn has your heart racing again, but not out of fear this time—out of exhilaration. The grip you have on his shoulder has loosened entirely now, your arms still around him but relaxed, and you're actually enjoying the sensation of flying.

As you approach your apartment building, you can feel the change in the atmosphere, the pace slowing down as the towering structures of the city give way to smaller buildings and quieter streets. The lights here are softer, the night air a little cooler, and it feels more like you’re heading into a familiar place, not something far away or foreign like the dizzying heights of downtown.

Jake’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. "We’re almost there," he says, his tone relaxed, the usual mischievousness still present but softer now. He doesn’t need to remind you; you can tell by the way he adjusts his swings that he’s already figured out where your apartment is.

Your apartment building comes into view—a sleek, modern structure in the middle of the city, its glass windows reflecting the soft glow of streetlights. The familiar sight of it comforts you a little, grounding you after the wild ride.

"Hold on," Jake warns, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as he starts to decelerate. You nod instinctively, your arms tightening around his neck just to make sure you don’t lose balance.

With expert precision, Jake swings to a stop just a few yards away from the entrance of your building. The motion is so smooth that, for a moment, you almost forget that you’ve been soaring through the air like Spider-Man’s sidekick. He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist for just a second longer than necessary as he steadies you.

You stumble a little, catching your breath and trying to steady yourself. The world feels like it’s still moving even though your feet are back on solid ground. Jake watches you with a soft grin, his eyes warm, almost like he’s trying to gauge your reaction.

"Not bad, huh?" he says, his tone teasing but affectionate.

You take a deep breath, still trying to get your bearings. “That was… insane,” you manage to say, your heart still racing, but the excitement isn’t fading. It’s lingering, buzzing beneath your skin.

You glance at him, trying to put your thoughts together. "I never thought I’d be doing that... not in a million years. It was... incredible."

Jake’s grin widens, and there’s a flash of pride in his eyes. "I told you, you’d get used to it. Besides, I make a pretty good tour guide, don’t I?" He winks, clearly amused by the situation.

You roll your eyes, but it’s playful. "You know, you’re insufferable," you say, trying to hide your smile, but it’s not really working. The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter.

Jake shrugs, his expression shifting to something softer, more genuine now. "Hey, I can’t help it if I’m good at what I do."

He gives you a quick, teasing nudge with his shoulder. "But seriously, I’m glad you’re okay. You’re… pretty tough for someone who looks so harmless."

Your heart skips at his words, and you look away quickly, not sure how to respond. But before you can think too much about it, Jake’s voice cuts through the silence again, playful but with a hint of something more.

"Well, I guess I better let you go inside now," he says, his smile lingering as he takes a small step back, allowing you to move toward your apartment’s door.

You hesitate, your fingers still curled slightly where they rested on his shoulder. The warmth of his presence is still there, lingering, and for a moment, you don’t want to let him go. You don’t know what to say—what to do—but the lingering tension between you both is undeniable.

"Jake…" you start, but the words trail off. You try to meet his gaze, but your cheeks flush, and you look down at your feet, still unsure of what to say.

He doesn’t rush you, though. Instead, he steps closer again, his hand reaching out for yours, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Yeah?"

His voice is soft now, and you can feel his proximity, his presence making everything feel just a little more intense. He looks at you with an unreadable expression, the teasing tone from before replaced with something else. Something quieter.

You feel your heartbeat quicken again, unsure of the moment but still wanting to say something—anything. But as you open your mouth, ready to speak, Jake cuts you off, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"You’re safe now, princess," he says, the words carrying more weight than before, as if he’s letting you know how much he means it. “I’ll always make sure of that.”

His gaze softens as he holds your eyes for a long moment, and something shifts between you. It’s like everything is finally clicking into place, like the chaos of the night has settled into a peaceful, if confusing, calm.

Before you can process it, Jake leans forward, his lips brushing your cheek in a soft, quick kiss. It's barely there, but the effect is immediate—your heart skips, your mind goes blank for a split second, and when you pull back, you see him grinning at you, that same mischievous spark back in his eyes.

“That’s my good deed for the night,” he teases, his voice returning to its usual playful tone, though there's something more in it now. His fingers linger on your hand for a moment before he steps back, giving you space.

You blink, still caught off guard by the sudden gesture. "Jake, what—" You start to say, but he’s already stepping back, that same cocky grin back on his face.

"I'll see you around, princess," he says casually, his voice full of that teasing warmth you’ve come to expect. "You’re safe now. You can head inside. Get some rest."

And before you can even respond, he’s already turning away, his figure melting into the shadows as he swings off into the night, leaving you standing there, feeling a little lost and a lot confused.

You stand there for a long moment, the cool night air pressing against your skin, the softness of his kiss still lingering on your cheek. What just happened? You shake your head, still feeling the rush, still caught in the mix of emotions. Maybe you will get some rest after all... but Jake definitely isn’t helping your mind settle.

With a sigh, you finally unlock the door to your apartment and step inside, your heart still racing, your thoughts swirling.

It’s late again, another night that started out mundane and calm, but turned into something far more chaotic. You’d been wrapping up a late-night study session in the library and decided to walk back to your apartment after grabbing a quick snack. The usual peace of the campus at night, the soft hum of the streetlights, is suddenly interrupted as you turn a corner and find yourself face to face with a group of men blocking your path.

It doesn’t take long to recognize the danger when one of them steps too close, a grin stretching across his face as his gaze lingers far too long on you. His tone is slow, deliberate, like he’s sizing you up. "Hey there, pretty thing. Out for a walk all alone at this hour?"

You freeze, heart racing, eyes darting around, trying to assess your options. But before you can react, another one of them steps forward, his hand reaching toward you. The touch is far too close, and your breath hitches in your throat. Panic begins to bubble in your chest.

And that’s when you hear it—the sound of a thud, followed by the unmistakable, familiar voice.

"You’re not going anywhere."

Jake. He’s here. Again.

You blink, and in the next moment, you’re already being pulled behind him, the sound of his web-slinging catching the air as he lands with a perfect crouch between you and the men.

“You should’ve stayed out of this,” Jake’s voice is dangerously low, filled with a sharp edge you’ve never heard before. The usual teasing lilt is gone, replaced by something possessive. You’re used to Jake’s antics, his mischievous grin, his cocky swagger—but this, this is different.

The group of men stumbles back a few steps, and one of them mutters something under his breath, clearly not prepared for this. The tension in the air is thick, every muscle in Jake’s body coiled with protective intent. You don’t need to see his face to know his jaw is clenched, his fists tight by his side, ready to act if necessary.

The one who had gotten too close to you sneers, stepping forward, but Jake is faster, his movements a blur. With a quick flick of his wrist, a strand of web shoots out, yanking the guy backward into a trash bin with a satisfying crash.

The remaining two men hesitate, clearly unsure if they should fight or run. They glance at each other, but before they can make their decision, Jake’s voice slices through the night again, steady, commanding.

“Don’t make me ask twice,” he says, the warning clear. "Leave. Now."

And just like that, they turn tail and bolt, disappearing into the shadows of the alley. Your heart is racing, but your body relaxes just a little as the threat disappears. You’ve been through this enough by now to know Jake’s got everything under control.

Still, your hands tremble slightly as you try to collect yourself, still shaken by the incident. You glance up at Jake, who’s standing just a few feet away, his posture rigid, his attention focused entirely on you.

He doesn’t move at first, only watches you with that intensity that always seems to make your heart skip. His gaze softens slightly when he sees how shaken you are, but the possessiveness is still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

You take a small step forward, your voice small but steady, “Jake, you— you didn’t have to… you didn’t need to go that far…”

Jake’s eyes flicker, and then his lips curl into a soft smirk, but there’s something in the way he looks at you now that makes your breath catch. He steps closer, reaching out for your hand, but it’s not to pull you in for a comforting hug like he usually does. No, this time, his fingers brush over the back of your hand, a subtle claim.

“I do what I want, princess,” he says, his voice lower than usual, thick with emotion you can’t quite place. “And you’re my responsibility. You think I’m going to let anyone touch you like that?”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. There’s something in his eyes, something protective that you’ve never seen this intensely before. You’re not sure how to react to it—how to process it, even.

Before you can say anything, Jake’s hand gently pulls you toward him. You step into him, your body instinctively seeking his warmth, his safety. He leans down slightly, his breath warm on your ear, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. The feeling is overwhelming, and you let out a shaky breath, feeling his heartbeat through his suit.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, the tension in his voice now softening. His fingers find your chin, lifting it gently so that your eyes meet his. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, though your voice trembles a little. You can feel his protective energy still surrounding you, but you don’t want to seem weak. Not now.

He doesn’t seem to believe you, though. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the touch gentle but deliberate. “I don’t like seeing you scared,” he mutters, his voice laced with an emotion you’re starting to understand. “Don’t like anyone laying a hand on you. You hear me?”

You nod, your breath catching again at the way his eyes darken with something more intense than you’re used to seeing. You’ve always known he cared for you, but this? This is different. This is possessive, raw… personal.

He steps back for a moment, and you watch as his posture shifts, like he’s about to leave. But before you can process it, Jake takes a step forward, his hands cupping your face carefully.

You don’t have time to react before his lips are pressed gently to your cheek, soft and lingering. It’s quick, but there’s something intense about it, like he’s reaffirming his presence in your life. The warmth of his lips makes your heart flutter, and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you.

Before you can say anything, Jake pulls back, his eyes locking with yours. His grin is softer now, less cocky, and more… genuine. The possessive edge is still there, but there’s a tenderness now that makes your heart beat a little faster.

“Get inside, princess,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s trying to ground himself after all the chaos. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

You nod, your chest still tight from everything that happened. But there’s something reassuring about him, something in the way he holds you, in the way he never lets go. You start to walk toward the entrance of your building, but Jake follows closely behind, his presence never straying too far from you.

Before you reach the door, he stops you one last time.

"Hey," Jake says, his voice a little sheepish now, though his eyes are still burning with that protective fire. “A kiss on my cheek, princess? For a job well done?”

You stop and turn back toward him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re asking for a kiss now?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, but you can see the playful twinkle in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a hero. I’m entitled to one.”

You stare at him for a second, the weight of everything still heavy between you two. But then, without thinking too much about it, you step forward and press a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Jake’s eyes widen slightly, a pleased smile creeping across his face as you pull away. His eyes soften as he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, as if claiming it just as much as he claimed your heart.

“I’ll make sure you’re safe, princess,” he whispers softly, his voice barely audible now, but you hear the promise in it.

You smile, feeling your heart flutter for him all over again as you step inside your apartment, a strange warmth spreading through your chest as you close the door behind you. Jake may have been a hero tonight, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were becoming his hero, too.

It’s late, the kind of quiet that wraps around you like a soft, heavy blanket. You’ve just gotten into bed, the weight of the day finally catching up with you as you settle into the cozy warmth of your apartment. Your mind is still a little restless, running over thoughts of schoolwork, the things you need to do tomorrow, and of course, Jake. You haven’t seen him in a couple of days—he’s been elusive, but that’s nothing new. You understand; it’s his mysterious nature that makes him… well, him.

Just as you’re about to close your eyes, a sound interrupts the silence—a soft, rhythmic tap-tap-tap at your window. You freeze, heart jumping in your chest, and for a split second, your mind runs through the list of possible explanations. Could it be an animal? Maybe the wind?

But then, another tap, a little louder this time, followed by a distinct creaking sound as something shifts in the air. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening, but when you finally do, your heart skips a beat.

You jump out of bed, rushing to the window. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Spiderman—Jake—is hanging upside down just outside your window. His suit is torn in multiple places, bruises marring his face and limbs, and blood is splattered across his chest, dripping down in thick streaks. His usually vibrant mask is barely hanging on, with one side of it barely clinging to his face.

Panic rises in your chest like a tidal wave. You don’t even think twice before pulling the window open, your hands shaking as you grip the edges.

“Jake!” you whisper-yell, trying to keep the panic in your voice at bay as you quickly push the window wider. “What the hell happened?”

He tilts his head slightly, his face still obscured by his mask, but you can see his eyes, faintly glowing in the dim light. His usual confident smirk is nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips are pressed into a thin line, his breathing heavy and labored. He swings himself inside, collapsing lightly onto your bed in an uncoordinated way.

“Could’ve warned me before you came crashing through the window,” you mutter, though your voice cracks with worry as you kneel beside him. “What happened to you, Jake? You look—you look awful.”

He gives you a weak, almost painful chuckle, but it sounds strained, as though even that small movement took everything out of him. “I’m fine, princess. Just… had a run-in with a couple of new guys,” he says, voice laced with exhaustion.

You ignore him, your hands already reaching for the nearby med kit you keep on the shelf for emergencies like this—though you never imagined this would be the reason you’d use it. As you pull out gauze, antiseptic, and bandages, your mind races. You’ve seen him hurt before, but this is different. This time, it feels personal. He looks vulnerable, and it makes your heart ache in a way you can’t explain.

You gently tug at the edge of his mask, and though he doesn’t protest, you can tell he’s trying to hold on to whatever pride he has left. You pull it off, revealing the familiar face you’ve come to know so well. His hair is messy, sweat beading on his forehead, and those sharp, alluring features are softened by exhaustion. His eyes are unfocused for a moment, as though he’s still struggling to come back to reality after whatever fight he’s just survived.

"Jake," you murmur, sitting next to him on the bed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "You’re hurt. I need to clean you up, okay?"

He gives you a soft nod, too tired to say anything, and you don’t waste another second. You start with his arm, gently cleaning the blood away as carefully as you can. The sight of him—torn, vulnerable, and trusting you enough to let you do this—pulls at your heartstrings. You can feel his muscles tense every now and then, but he doesn’t complain. You think he’s probably too exhausted to even speak.

“You really know how to make an entrance, don’t you?” you say softly, trying to inject some humor into the situation to lighten the mood.

Jake chuckles weakly, his voice hoarse. “Well, it’s not exactly my first choice of grand entrances… but it works.”

You let out a short laugh, your fingers moving to his chest next, carefully dabbing at the gashes and bruises there. He hisses a little as you touch one of the deeper cuts, his jaw clenched, but he doesn’t pull away. You bite your lip, trying not to show how much his pain is affecting you.

“You’re not fine,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him, your fingers now gently pressing the gauze against his ribs to stop the bleeding. “You’re hurt… badly.”

He glances over at you, his eyes softening just a little, and for the first time, you see a flicker of vulnerability that he normally hides so well behind the mask. “You’re right,” he admits quietly. “But I’ll be fine. You always take care of me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, princess.”

Your heart swells at the softness in his voice, and you try to ignore the way his words make your stomach flutter. You focus instead on taking care of him, cleaning his wounds, bandaging him up with steady hands.

“There,” you say, pulling back and looking at your work, “that should hold for now. I’ll have to check your other injuries, but… you need to rest. And I need you to stop throwing yourself into dangerous situations.”

Jake leans back, leaning against the edge of the bed with a soft sigh of relief. “I’m not a kid, princess. I can take care of myself.” He pauses, glancing at you with a flicker of something behind his eyes. “But… I don’t mind you taking care of me.”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. “Oh, you don’t mind, huh? Well, don’t get used to it.”

Jake smirks, though his expression is softer than usual, more grateful than teasing. “You know you love it,” he murmurs, his eyes almost sparkling with exhaustion and amusement.

You lean back slightly, still worried but trying to ease the tension. “I love making sure you don’t bleed out on my bed.”

He chuckles weakly, his head resting back against the wall behind him. “Fair enough.” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath. “Thanks, princess. You’re the best.”

Your chest warms, a mix of worry and fondness flooding you. You glance at him, taking in the sight of him sitting there, tired and bruised, but still him. Jake. Your Jake. You wish you could keep him out of harm’s way forever, but you know that’s impossible. He’s not just Jake; he’s Spider-Man. And no matter how much it hurts to see him like this, you know he wouldn’t change a thing.

But for now, you’re content to just sit next to him, making sure he’s okay, knowing that—no matter what comes next—you’ll always be here for him.

The soft moonlight filters in through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room. You’re still processing everything—the way he crashed through your window, his bruised and battered body, the way he insisted on being fine despite it all. But now, with him lying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you close, you can’t help but feel a strange mixture of relief and concern.

You let out a soft sigh, turning slightly to look at Jake, who’s still awake beside you, his head resting against the pillow. His eyes are closed, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he’s content to just be here, with you.

"Jake," you murmur softly, your fingers tracing small circles on his chest, trying to steady your thoughts. "Are you really okay?"

He exhales a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. "You’ve asked me that a thousand times tonight, princess," he teases lightly, his voice husky with exhaustion. "I told you I’m fine."

You roll your eyes, still not convinced. "You’re not fine. You’re covered in bruises and bleeding all over the place. Don’t lie to me." You feel the heat of his body against yours, his warmth strangely comforting. But the worry still lingers in the back of your mind, twisting your insides.

Jake opens his eyes then, his gaze soft but serious as he looks down at you. "I’m sorry, okay? I didn't want to worry you," he admits, his voice low. "But I guess I failed at that, huh?"

You nod, though your heart sinks a little at the vulnerability in his voice. "You always try to protect me, don’t you?" you say quietly, your voice almost a whisper. "But who’s gonna protect you when you get hurt like this?"

Jake’s eyes flicker with something unreadable, but then he gives you a soft, almost tender smile. "I’m the one who’s supposed to be the hero here, remember?" he jokes, though there’s no real humor in his tone this time. "Guess I can’t help it if I need saving every now and then."

You shake your head, the feeling of helplessness creeping up on you. "You’re not invincible, Jake. You can’t do it all alone."

He shifts, propping himself up slightly on one elbow so he can look at you better. "I’m not alone, princess," he says seriously. "I’ve got you. I’ll always have you."

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, warmth flooding your chest. You bite your lip, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d probably lecture you about taking better care of yourself," you tease, but your tone is softer now, more affectionate.

Jake grins, his expression relaxing as he leans in slightly, his forehead gently touching yours. "I know, I know. But I’ll let you lecture me when I’m not bleeding out." He laughs, a little chuckle that makes your heart flutter. "You’re the best, you know that? Even when you’re mad at me."

You push him lightly, though you can’t help but smile back at him. "I’m not mad, I’m just… worried. You scare me sometimes, you know that?" Your voice comes out more fragile than you intended, and you immediately regret it.

Jake’s smile falters for just a moment, a fleeting shadow crossing his features. Then, without warning, he pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you. "I don’t want to scare you," he murmurs softly, his voice low and soothing. "I promise, I’ll try not to. I just… I have to do this. It’s who I am."

"I know," you say, your voice quieter now, the weight of everything finally hitting you. "I just… wish you didn’t have to do it alone."

You can feel his chest rise and fall with his breath, his fingers lightly brushing against the small of your back. "I’m not alone. Not anymore."

The words settle between you, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the quiet hum of the night filling the room. It’s strange, but comforting. Like this moment, as fragile as it is, is enough.

You finally let yourself relax into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. "Jake," you murmur, your voice soft, "stay with me tonight. Please."

He doesn’t hesitate. "I’m not going anywhere, princess."

You close your eyes, the steady rhythm of his breath lulling you into a calm that you didn’t know you needed. You feel his hand gently stroke the back of your hair, his touch soothing, his presence grounding you.

And as you drift off to sleep, you realize that, despite everything—despite the danger, despite the fear—having Jake here, safe beside you, is all that matters right now.

Hours later, you’re woken by the softest of movements beside you, a slight shift in the air that has you blinking your eyes open. You immediately feel the warmth next to you, and when your gaze flickers to Jake, you realize he’s no longer lying a safe distance from you. Instead, he’s shifted closer, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you in against his chest.

At first, the shock of his closeness makes you freeze. Your body tenses instinctively, not sure how to react to the sudden intimacy. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your cheek, and you can feel his warmth, his body pressing gently against yours. He’s not unconscious anymore, but he’s still too hurt to move much.

He mumbles something against your hair, his voice barely audible, but it’s enough to send your heart skipping a beat. “I’ll be fine, princess… just needed you close.”

You let out a soft breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your mind still racing to catch up with the reality of the situation. The fact that he’s pulled you this close so effortlessly makes your stomach flutter in a way you can’t explain. This is Jake. Your Jake. And even though his arms feel a little too tight around you, the weight of his closeness feels… right.

Slowly, you relax into his embrace, the warmth of his body soothing your nerves. The feeling of his fingers lightly brushing over the fabric of your shirt as he pulls you closer feels so natural, despite the tension in the air. You can’t help but feel a little comforted by the fact that, in this moment, it’s not the superhero or the fighter beside you. It’s just Jake.

But the faint ache in your chest doesn’t go unnoticed as you shift slightly, adjusting to his position. You can’t help the little sigh that escapes you, not from discomfort, but from something deeper. Something more protective, more concerned. You don’t want to see him like this again. It scares you to think of him out there, fighting for lives—and for you—only to come back like this, broken and bruised.

Jake shifts again, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing over your hair as if trying to comfort you, even though you’re the one taking care of him. You meet his gaze, the softness in his eyes a stark contrast to the usual mischievous glint, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s just the two of you. No Spider-Man, no danger, just Jake… your Jake.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice low and quiet, his hand gentle against your back as he pulls you even closer, your chest now flush against his. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this… again. But I’m glad you're here.”

You press your lips together, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through you at his words. You thought you might feel suffocated by his closeness, but instead, you feel something almost comforting. Even if you didn’t ask for this life, even if you never expected any of this to happen, Jake is here. And as much as he’s the one always looking out for you, it’s moments like this that make you want to look out for him, too.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper, “but only because you’re impossible to get rid of.”

Jake chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You know you love me, princess.”

You smirk, but there’s a warmth in your voice as you reply, “Maybe. Just don’t get used to it.”

His grip around you tightens just a little, and you can feel the faintest hint of a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he pulls you closer again, not saying a word, just content to hold you close. The night settles back into a peaceful silence, save for the occasional sound of his breathing, deep and steady.

You drift off to sleep in his arms, the weight of everything finally starting to feel a little lighter. And even though you know there will be more challenges ahead, more times when he’ll get hurt, more nights spent worrying, you feel a quiet peace in the fact that, at least for tonight, you’re together. Safe.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Reputation 2

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The entire left side of your face is swollen. Your eye is black and your cheek is purple. You can’t part your eye lid more than a small slit. You’re effectively half-blind.  

Your head throbs as you examine the damage. You put ice in a baggy and wrap it in a dish cloth. You hold it to your head as you drink your coffee. This isn’t just a hangover. 

Through your spinning drunkenness, Frank’s face popped up over and over. Your alcohol-laced dreams were haunted by him and the crack of bone on bone. You drain the mug and leave it in the sink. 

No makeup today. Shit. Nothing wrong with a bare-face but you had a meeting at noon. A client you penciled in last-minute. You can’t really cancel on them now, but showing up like this... 

You check your phone as you get ready. Nothing from Maria. You expect as much. You sigh and dress. 

You meet Bethany downtown. When you walk in, you notice how she stares then pretends not to. She acts as if she doesn’t see you right until you come up to her table. 

“Bethany?” You greet. “Pleased to finally meet you in person.” 

“Oh god? It’s you!” She shakes your hand. “I’m so sorry—oh, what happened?” 

“This,” you smile and wince. “Clumsy. Took a tumble on some stairs.” 

“Stairs? Oh my?” 

“Arms were full,” you laugh. “Couldn’t catch myself.” 

“I-- it looks so painful,” she says. “You didn’t have to come all this way.” 

“I’m good. Nothing a little ibuprofen won’t fix,” you wave her off. Actually, it hurts like hell. “You are planning a baby shower.” You take out your tablet and prop it up in the case. “Do we know the gender?” 

She stares a minute then blinks. You see her shake the sense into herself. You try not show your discomfort. You don’t like being seen like this. 

“Do you have a theme in mind?” You redirect. 

She nods and looks down at her phone. “Pinterest. I have some boards...” 

You settle in. The appointment goes as well as any other once she’s past the shock of your appearance. You have notes and a starting point. You’ll get back to Bethany with some swatches and options for decor. It’s all very cut and dry. 

She leaves first. You linger and work on your mostly untouched shaken espresso. The caffeine isn’t helping but you drink anyway. 

Do you file a report? Is it worth the trouble? You remember in college when that guy shoved his hand right down your jeans. You went to the police and they shrugged. Then there was the time your professor pressed his bulge into your back as you wrote an exam. Campus security made it into a joke. 

Fucking Frank. You will never say I told you so to Maria, it’s not her fault he’s a prick, but dammit. This is messed up. He as good as broke your face. You probably have a concussion. You should at least see a professional. 

You turn your empty cup and sit up. Before you can stand, the chair across from you scrapes. You frown and flinch again. You cup your cheek as Frank turns the chair and straddles it. You stare at him. 

“What the hell are you here for?” You growl. 

He scoffs. “Where is she?” 

You narrow your one open eye. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since last night. Kindly go the fuck away.” 

He snorts as he looks at you. “I’ll be happy to even it out, now tell me where the fuck Maria is.” 

You furrow your nose. You stand up. He does too. You look around. Several other patrons look in your direction. You tilt your head at him. 

“Lots of witnesses today.” You say. 

He rolls his eyes. He points in your face and gets close. “I know you fucking did this.” 

You stare back at him. You shrug. “Do something or get out of my way.” 

He postures. Squarring his shoulders, balling his fist. Big tough man. You’re scared but you won’t show it. 

“Alright. Tell Maria I love her.” 

You shake your head and sidestep him. You march out, gripping your purse tight, and barge out into the street. You don’t look through the window as you pass his looming shadow. What a pyscho. You’re happy to hear Maria tucked tail at last. 

🍺 

You think of calling Maria. You don’t. She’ll call when she needs to. It must be a lot with the kids. And who knows how long until Frank catches up to her. 

The TV garbles in the background. You’re not paying attention as you put together an invoice. You’re very particular about filing it all. 

As you save it and send it to the client, there’s a buzz. That’s unusual. Nine at night. You’re not expecting anyone. You let it go again before you get up. It could be Maria. 

You tap the button, “hello?” 

Silence. You let go of the button. It buzzes again. You frown. You’re building is secure. You chose the condo because of that. You could afford safety; or the illusion of. 

You push again, “do you have the wrong unit?” 

The speaker clicks. You exhale and walk away. Whatever. 

You go back to the table and close out of all the programs. Your head is already throbbing from the bruises and the blue light isn’t helping. You shut the laptop and drop onto the sofa. 

You flick through the menu. You’re not interested in anything. You’ve seen that one. Shitty ending. And you never got past the third episode on this one. 

A knock at the door jars you. You don’t move. It comes again. You turn the remote in your hand. It’s not Maria, you have that feeling about it.  

Frank... 

You get up and cross the apartment. You stop at the door and peer out the peephole. Not him either. 

“Get outta here, Billy,” you call through. “Tell your buddy to piss off.” 

“Just checking in,” he chimes back. 

“Go!” You holler. “I already called the police.” 

“Cool,” he grins straight at the peep hole. “I’ll stick around and say hi.” You huff and he snickers. He wiggles the handle and you double check the lock. “I already know she’s not here. Just making sure you are.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” You snarl. 

He just laughs again as he spins on his heel. You watch him strut away. No good snake. No wonder him and Frank are inseparable. 

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Ok first off, love love loving everything about the battle of Yokohama. Even if you never write a fic of it your post are vivid enough that it paints such a cool picture and impactful story. Also your tags about Inko really make me wonder about how the parents reacted to everything going on after the battle. Like did some threaten to remove their kids from UA again, or did some want to capitalize off the publicity it could bring their kids heroics career? And like, obviously the more nosey reporters were going to go digging into class A’s personal lives and families, the public was desperate for any bit of information they could get about class A at the time, so I assume in a part of Nedzu and Aizawas efforts to “bury it” they also led the media and such away from their families, but it must’ve been a hell of a week for them. Also the idea of Inko and Mitsuki sitting in a hospital waiting room trying to figure out if and when they should breach the “so did you two date in middle school and is that why you fell out” convo or not is hilarious, especially since Mitsuki at the same time is probably having the internal struggle as to if she should breach the “so is all might the father?” Convo with Inko at the same time.

They deployed Nedzu on all of the parents.

Every single one of those parents spent the night glued to the TV screen and waiting to find out if their kids were dead. When it ended, a lot of them got calls from their kids who were in total breakdown after what they had been through. A fair amount of them wanted their kids fucking out of that school.

Nedzu personally met with each of them and managed to persuade them to leave the decision up to their kids. To let them decide if they wanted to leave the class they loved to the point of sacrifice.

Every kid said they wanted to stay with their friends.

Nedzu also made them all some very specific promises about doing better with their kids’ safety. So the last year of their schooling has been a little less eventful—in part because they no longer take these kids off campus together without an honor guard of heroes there to jump the League of Villains if they show their ugly asses. Class A doesn’t know it, but they’re classified officially as a high risk target for the league and their field trips are now a matter of national security. Where the fuck is all for one and the league? Fuck if they know, but chances are they’ll show up when class a goes to train for ocean rescues with gang orca. The kids don’t go on off campus trips together without a slew of high ranked heroes posted down the road to intervene. It’s been a sufficient deterrent to minimize threats to them in their last year.

Nedzu made the parents realize that they couldn’t just pull their kids and expect this to end. Their kids had just made it abundantly clear to the world as a whole that they would jump the school’s fence and lose their licenses if it meant being a hero. And they could either do that with the other spectacular students who would die for them, or they could do it alone after they snuck out of the house to commit whatever acts of vigilantism drove them.

Their kids had simply grown past the point of containment. They couldn’t stop them from being heroes, and trying would only hurt them.

A lot of the press had no idea where the families of these kids lived. Some of them ended up with press camped outside of their house, and Tensei ended up sending Idaten sidekicks to go intervene and get them to the hospital to see their kids.

Nedzu then used tactics outlawed by the Geneva convention to get the paparazzi the fuck away from those kids’ homes. They got out of the hospital and went home to a mostly quiet homecoming. If any paparazzi did show up, Aizawa descended like a vengeance to get them the fuck away.

Mitsuki knew Izuku’s dad, is the thing, and also knew that guy was a piece of shit. She ends up very stiltedly telling Inko she’s not saying that Inko banged all might during her unhappy marriage but if she did. Legend behavior. And inko sputters at her for several seconds before insisting that that couldn’t have possibly happened and don’t be ridiculous, she would never. And Mitsuki is like. Okay, okay. She’s not saying she did. But if she did. Legend behavior.

[blackbat05]

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.

[fanta2y]

Nervous Pt.2

eeee this definitely took longer than an hour but i got side tracked yall :((( but this is part two from the nervous ima link part one here incase you haven't read it yet ! honestly it could be read stand alone!!

cw: none, slightly suggestive

word count: 2.5k

nervous pt.1

It had been a couple of days since the “Kugisaki bedroom event”, as you had been calling it. You, of course, told her all about it. And had to bribe her with days of holding all her shopping bags and sparring with her for her to not tease you both relentlessly for it. 

You didn’t want to break the very precarious thread of hope that had formed between you and Fushiguro. He had been less, silent? Not in the real sense where he spoke more, in the sense that he seemed to float closer to you than normal. 

If you both found yourself in the same room, he would hover next to you. Not saying anything, or even acknowledging your presence in any meaningful way. Just leaning on the kitchen counter, a book opened in his hands as his eyes darted across the pages, as you cooked some lunch. 

Or whenever you would find yourself outside, sitting under one of the many trees that lived along the Jujustu High campus. Basking in the shade and the slight breeze, his presence would never be all to far away. Whether he would be training with one of the second years in the field infront of you, or if he was so bold, would find himself sitting next to you. 

Far enough to ensure your thighs didn’t graze together, or your fingers didnt brush against eachother. But the warmth that emanated from his body made you smile nonetheless. 

In some instances it seemed as if he was doing it unintentionally, as if his subconscious was trying to speak the words he was too scared to say aloud. 

You were content to float in this weird inbetween he had created. Scared to push your luck and go back to the cold shoulder he was giving you before this. You were able to steal subtle glances, or pull him by his hand to class or to training. 

He allowed you to be closer than you could’ve ever dreamed not 2 weeks ago. So, you stopped yourself from getting too greedy, from pushing for more, for seeking out more of his calming presence and his grounding touch. 

This all came to a head though when you both found yourselves stuck, trapped together in a small room on a mission with all the first years. Itadori and Kugisaki had rushed all too suspiciously to go check out another area of the building you guys had be tasked to investigate. 

Leaving you and Fushiguro, relatively, alone. 

You wondered the halls, guards up, checking for any signs of cursed spirits wondering around. Usually they would come jumping out, both of your cursed energy’s enough to draw them out. But they seemed relatively quiet, not so much as a blip on either of you guys radars. 

But there was a small spike coming from a closed door. It had both of you stopping, and turning to where the spike in energy was coming from. 

“We should probably-”

“Yeah.” He muttered, stepping infront of you to reach his hand out and open the door. It opened pretty easily, a low squeaking noise echoing out along the empty walls. The place was abandoned, left to rot after the reports of people going missing around the area. It hadn’t been touched for years, and you could easily tell. 

He kept you, almost protectively, behind him. Scanning the empty room, his eyes flickering from wall to wall, trying to spot what had caused the spike in the first place. Both of you stepped in the room, it was relatively small. Too big to be considered a closet of any sort, but too small to be a room that held much of anything inside of it. 

There were abandoned tables, a couple cardboard boxes rotting away on loosely secured shelves that dotted the walls. Many of which had already fallen before any of you had gotten there. The contents left scattered around on the floor, collecting dust as the days ticked away. 

“Come out, come out wherever you areee…” You sung out to the seemingly empty room playfully. You heard Fushiguro scoff infront of you, and you giggled, rolling your eyes at him from behind. 

“Try and take this a little seriously.” He turned around to face you, his voice was serious. But you had spent an embarrassingly long time studying Fushiguro from a far. Noticing the way he interacted and bantered with Kugisaki and Itadori. You noticed the inflection in his voice, and recognized the glint in his eyes. 

He was teasing you. 

The thought sent your heart fluttering away in your chest, usually your playful remarks directed at him, or even just said in his presence. Went woefully unacknowledged, not garnering any sort of reaction from him. 

This was brand new territory. And in the split second you had, you decided you were going to milk it for all its worth. 

“Oh Fushiguro I assure you, I am taking this VERY seriously.” You swore, dramatically placing your hand over your heart. Straightening your spine, rolling your shoulders back. Even going so far as too salute him. A faux face of seriousness adorning your features. 

It was a moment of silence, which felt like it dragged on forever. Fear that you might’ve pushed your luck just a little bit too far hung in the air. Before Fushiguro hunched over in laughter, his giggles bouncing off the empty walls. 

You stood stunned for a few seconds, having not heard him laugh since the Incident. The sound brought heat to your cheeks, and made the butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

Before long you joined him in his laughter, it took both of you a couple of minutes before you could calm down enough to reign yourselves back in. Wiping the tears that had accumulated under your eyes, you both just looked at eachother. 

A soft smile on each of your faces, a simple moment of serenity. A moment that was cut unfortunately short due to the loud bang of the slamming door behind you. It made you jump, startled by the loud and sudden noise. 

A familiar voice echoed from behind the door. 

“You both aren’t leaving this room until a confession is made!” 

Heat bursted on your cheeks as you rushed to the door, “Kugisaki I swear if you don’t open this door Im not going shopping with you for weeks!” 

You furiously shake the door, pulling and tugging the handle. But despite the door looking like it was nearly falling apart all on its own, it refused to budge. You groaned as she giggled away behind the door, placing your forehead on the rotting wood. 

“Kugisaki please.” You said softly, hoping Fushiguro was still far enough away to not hear you. 

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’, teasing you. You groaned again, resorting to banging your head against the door. 

There was no way in hell you were confessing, the bedroom incident was enough. You didn’t even know if he meant what you had meant in the way you had meant when you said that. If you thought about it too hard it made your head hurt. So you didn’t. You simply basked in the small moments you had with him. 

You had convinced yourself you didn’t need a confession, you didn’t need to be anything official with Fushiguro. You were content to just bask in the budding friendship. 

Even though in reality, you clearly were not okay with it. The longing glances, the mournful sighs. Kugisaki having to listen to you complain about how much you wish things were different. 

“Me and Itadori will be back in 1 hour, if there’s no new developments then you guys better get ready to spend the night.” 

You could see the smug smile on her face, Itadori had been unusually quiet but he probably was off waiting for her outside. 

You turned around, sliding your back against the door. You didn’t even want to look at Fushiguro, the embarrassment had crawled up your stomach and sat in your throat. Making words hard to muster. 

He was going to reject you, that much was clear. You had pined after him for what felt like years, hoping that at some point he would just spare you a glance. And now that he was finally not avoiding you like you were diseased. It would all crumble down with this rejection. 

It would make things unbearably awkward between the two of you, and you would never be able to go back to sitting in silence with him under the trees. Or secretly making him a portion of your lunch and eating together in the common space. 

So engrossed in your spiral, you hadn’t noticed Fushiguro approaching your pitiful figure. He slid down next to you, sitting the closest his probably ever sat to you. 

You felt his side pressed up against yours. It made things better and worse all at the same time. 

“We could just say we did it, but we didn’t.” He whispered, he leaned in close. His lips almost grazing your earlobe, it made you shiver involuntarily. A wet giggle escaped you, leave it to Fushiguro to always find a way out. 

You felt stupid for wanting to cry, you felt like you were mourning what was and what could’ve been in such an unexpected moment. A part of you always knew it was going to come to this, that your feelings would peak at some point and you would have to confess. The love would just simply have no other place to go but out. 

But you thought you had time, atleast before this had to happen. Before the friendship you had spent so many painstaking hours building and being patient, harboring more selfcontrol that you ever had before in your life. 

All for it to come crashing down because of your stupid friends. 

“Would dating me really be so bad?” The question was whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable. The most you’ve ever heard from it. It made your wallowing come to a screeching halt, ripping you from your spiral. 

He had moved further from you, his head wasn’t practically on your shoulder anymore. But your shoulders still bumped together with every twitch. You looked up from where your head was buried in your knees. 

His eyes were stubbornly locked forward, you studied the side of his face. You could almost feel the insecurity rolling off of him as the question hung in the air. 

“Why would you think that?” You whispered back, scared to break the mood created. Not wanting to scare him off from this sudden vulnerability. Wanting to pry more and more information out of him. 

“The thought of confessing seems to make you rather upset.” He said matter of factly, attempting to keep any trace of emotion that could give him away out of his voice. You felt shocked at his sudden boldness, never having seen this side of him before. 

“Thats not why I’m upset.” Your voice was soft, the tears from earlier making your words wet. The fear slowly crept back up, you felt the lump forming all over again in your throat. Rejection loomed over, the coldness that ran down your spine akin to the feeling when confronting cursed spirits. 

You didn’t want this to end. Not when you had gotten so close. 

“I’m scared.” 

You weren’t even sure if he had heard you from how quietly you uttered the words. You had never crossed this line with him, always keeping it to simple pleasantries or comfortable silences. Confessing your biggest fear to your biggest fear was something you never thought you would have to do. 

In an abandoned warehouse no less. 

“Scared this will ruin everything.” Tumbled out of your lips next, and suddenly now that you gotten started you couldn’t find it within yourself to stop. The words just kept rushing out like word vomit. 

“You know, its okay that you don’t like me back, and its okay that this will make things weird and awkward between us and we will have to go back to how thin-” 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?” His questions cut off your nervous ramblings, making your brain short circuit to catch up with what you just heard. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, confused by the implications of that statement. 

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, a habit of yours from childhood you never did break. You watched as he huffed a small smile, shaking his head at you. 

“I like you too, dumbass.” 

He knocked his forehead into yours, a teasing smile on his lips as you sat there buffering. Your mind and heart running a million miles a minute as you processed his words. 

“What?” You words were floaty, much like how you felt. It really didn’t make sense, this moment didn’t feel real. Truly you were dreaming and you were going to wake up any moment. 

Your foreheads rested against eachother, your breaths intermingling. And he waited, ever so patiently, for your brain to catch up with reality. 

He hummed under his breath as he just admired you, the nerves he felt around you mere minutes ago faded away with the weight of the confession off of his shoulders. It felt freeing to get how he felt off his chest, especially with the security that he knew you felt the same way. 

“You like me back?” You said under your breath, trying to convince yourself this was real. He hummed an affirmative note, his vocals dripping with affectionate amusement. He say the glimmer return into your eyes and that was the only warning he got before your lips were on his. 

He was frozen for a second as your lips danced on his, but after a moment he melted into the kiss. 

Switching your positions to where you were sat, straddling his lap. Your arms hung loosely around his neck as his hands sat, almost stiffly, on your waist. You only willed yourself to pull apart when your need for air overwhelmed you. 

His eyes darted from yours to your lips, leaning in for another kiss before the door was flung open and you both fell backwards. A loud shreek escaping from your lips. 

You heard a cheer and saw a flash of a camera. Your cheeks blazing red as you hide your face in Fushiguro’s neck, groaning into his skin.

“Alright guys, enough enough.” He said, moving you both to sit up off the floor. 

“Finally! I was getting tired listening to her complain all the time-” 

“Kugisaki say any more and I’ll kill you.” You muttered, your face still hidden from the embarrassment in his shoulder. She laughed, holding her hands up in a defensive position. 

“Whatever. You so owe me for this.” She cackled, Itadori giving Fushiguro a clap on the shoulder before they walked away. Fushiguro pushing you up on your feet, his hands still snaked around your waist. 

“Your friends are the worst.” You groaned, and he chuckled. 

“Our friends.” He corrected, beginning to lead you towards the exit of the building. 

Eventually, his hands found their way into his pockets, and you both walked rather slowly side by side. Your shoulders bumped into each other as you walked, a comfortable silence settling over the two of you. A smile never leaves either of your faces.

a tag for my beloved mutual mwah <3 @ssaeth

authors note: i hope you guys enjoyeddd i really liked the way this one turned out !! hopefully im going to be able to write a lot more over the summer!! thank you guys always for all the love, and likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[gx-gameon]

Here me out:

Janitor: Anyone can get this job, but it should to that journalist Gerard and he reports straight to Kaiba because he hears everything going on at that school. Security Guard: Valon. He was thrown in juvie for fighting so he isn't afraid to throw hands. Mythology/Folklore: Raphael. Just look at his deck. Gym Teacher: Alister. Have you seen that man in a crop top? Shredded! Occult Teacher: Bakura. He would relish this and kids would find his fondness for thw strange and supernatural rather endearing. Alchemy Teacher: Marik. They need someone to go over Banner's work. Girls Dorm Head: Mai. Fonda Fontaine already has to be a full-time nurse and gym teacher, so let Mai lead the girls. She would probably let them all live in the Girl's Dorm but enforce the different colored uniforms (there are female Slifer and Ra uniforms for Yugioh Online). Girl's Gym Coach: Vivian. Apparently she is skilled in martial arts too! Game Design Class: Duke. He still runs his start up on the side plus Dungeon Dice Monsters being added to the curriculum is a win. Superintendent: Joey. He's just a figurehead and he knows it, but it's mostly to shut down any arguments that Seto hired people based on nepotism because in what world would Seto Kaiba hire Joey Wheeler for something so important?

I love all of this.

Specifically Seto being like “I didn’t higher these people because I like them! You think I like Wheeler?”

Reporter/parent: “isn’t he your husband’s best friend?”

Seto: “no comment.”

But like no one would question it. Most of them are world class duelist or have made their names in their field. Sure Seto’s known them for years but imagine your local billionaire higher people who are at the top of their fields to teach at the school he owns that your child goes to. You’re not going to say anything. He’s giving those kids the best education.

I can also just picture Joey goofing off at his job. Constantly visiting the campus to give Sheppard and Crowler heart attacks. Just cause it’s funny.

He also visits the other duel academies around the world. The staff hate him cause they think he’s not qualified for superintendent (they are right, dorm master yes man in charge of all schools no) but the students love him because he rocks up cancels all classes and duels anyone stupid enough to ask.

None of this is cannon (probably) they might come in as guest teachers or maybe Seto does a Pro week/month were they all come in and show off.

Although Bakura, Duke, and Mai are tempting. All I love seeing the Oricalcos boys becoming part of the team.

[kimium]

What are your top 5 headcanons for Rook/Vil? 👀👀👀

Oh hi friend! Thank you so much for this ask! As you (and many) are aware, Rook/Vil is my favourite ship in Twisted Wonderland. I'm always so happy to talk about them. Before I get started though, I do want to make it clear that 1) This is just my opinion and my headcanons and 2) I play in the ENG server, so if there is something either I haven't seen because it's in the JP server or because of some "lost in translation" thing, sorry.

My Top Five Headcanons for Rook/Vil

5. Vil has met Rook's parents. The first time was entirely accidental.

With Rook casually revealing to Epel and Yuu that his family is rich and owns many villas around the world, there had to be a point that Rook offered one of the villas to Vil. Perhaps Vil was in the middle of some photo shoots, press tour, or acting and needed a place to stay. Or maybe it was a rare break for Vil from both work and school and Rook decided to offer one of his family villas as a get away.

Regardless, I love the image of Rook and Vil in a cozy villa, overlooking the ocean or maybe an orchid across the way owned by some family that Rook loves talking to every morning. They're enjoying the time together, playing a little bit of house. One morning Vil walks downstairs, expecting only Rook at the table, when he meets Mr. and Mrs. Hunt. I bet this is embarrassing not only because Vil isn't 100% put together but because he's not put together because of Rook. It's a first impression Vil wishes he could scrub from everyone's minds, but Rook's parents find it charming and adorable.

4. Vil and Rook's relationship is an "open secret" at NRC. No one is going to tell the media though; they like living.

Like many famous people, I think Vil wishes to keep his love life mostly out of the public eye/media. Not that he's attempting to hide his relationship with Rook (impossible on campus), but Vil hasn't made some public announcement. Why would he want to? The media already hounds him 24/7. (Vil thanks the Seven every day that NRC has strict rules about media presence on campus.) It also isn't that he doesn't want to someday announce happily to the world that Rook is his, it's just for now Vil is fine with the open secret.

I also think it's hilarious to imagine all of Pomefiore (and majority of campus) to either decide 1) It's really none of my business if Vil and Rook are dating. I'm staying in my lane. Or 2) Wouldn't it be funny if we collectively ignored every tabloid reporter or journalist looking for an easy story. Vil deserves his privacy from those vultures. Like, I'm imagining whenever students are off campus tabloid reporters are always waiting to "ask them questions" about -insert character in the major public eye-. All the students just blankly look at the reporters or say "WHO? I've never heard of him" to their questions.

3. Rook nearly got escorted off a set by security the first time he came to drop off something Vil forgot.

Sort of tying into my prior one, since Vil and Rook aren't publicly announcing they're dating there had to be ONE time that this happened. In the security guard's defense, they're used to people trying to sneak in claiming to either know Vil or sent to deliver something to him. Sure, Rook is in the NRC uniform, but that doesn't mean free access. However, those poor security guards probably had to sit through Rook wax poetically about their "devotion to their jobs" or something like that. It's a good thing Vil personally stepped out to meet Rook and didn't sent an intern or personal manager. Those guards would have been stuck for hours.

Also, imagining the guard's surprise when Vil sighs, walks up to this weird man spouting poetry (with random French intermingled), and drags him off with a "sorry, he's with me".

2. Rook and Vil have probably one of the spiciest sex lives.

Here is my one (1) sexy idea you'll get out of me for this list. I have many ideas but I don't want to share all of them. What I want to say is I think Rook and Vil are open to trying many things together and put their 100% into it. Sure they have boundaries but they're mature enough to communicate so it's fun and comfortable for both parties. They just know each other so well and are always on the same wave length! This translates to their love lives and I think it's Relationship Goals.

Rook is the one to propose to Vil.

While I think Vil wouldn't be opposed to proposing, ultimately I think Rook is the one who does it. It just suits him. Rook is already a romantic at heart. He's planning the proposal well in advance and doesn't even need to ask Vil his hand size because Rook already knows that. The proposal is a private one, definitely not a public proposal, but it's so soft, sweet, and filled with romance that it's truly a day Vil remembers fondly. Afterwards I think the first people Vil tells besides their parents are Jack and Epel. I love Vil's friendship with Jack and there is no way Epel wouldn't be one of the first. Though while Jack is very excited for his friend and congratulates him eagerly, I bet Epel sits there going "It's about DAMN TIME". Vil reflex scolds Epel.

(Also, Vil 100% takes over all wedding preparations. While Rook is calmly taking all of this in stride I think Jack, who is the best man despite believing someone else would be better, is overwhelmed. Epel is ready to Scream and throw something at Vil. Trey is in charge of baking the wedding cake and the poor man somehow manages to balance Vil's micro-managing and Rook's "passionate" nature.)

There we have it! My top five headcanons for Rook/Vil. I hope you like my ideas, friend! If there is anything you want to add for yourself, feel free!

[whentherewerebicycles]

this sweet baby girl had the time of her life at my parents’ house!! a big adventure for a little girl!!!!! also my parents’ golden retriever “works” as an emotional support dog at the nursing home my dad runs and I think next time I visit we might try taking ruthie there to see how she does with the old folks. she’s such a ferocious barker at first but then chills out the minute you give her treats and I think it could be a good socialization exercise. anyway we had such a nice little mini-vacation and I don’t want to go back to real life yet!! but it’ll be good for me I need to start running again and it’s too hot here.

mm ok thinking through the day and the week below the cut

I worked extra hours yesterday and am going to probably do some weekend work to prep for my new direct report’s onboarding so I feel ok taking it easy with work and mostly just monitoring teams/outlook today while traveling. here’s the morning:

8:30-9:30 breakfast with my mom

9:30-10:45 lounge to my heart’s content but also do a bunch of work emails sigh

10:40-11:10ish shower/get ready

11:10-12:30 pack, charge devices, take ruthie out, pack snacks for plane

12:30-2 airport drive, security, etc

2-6 sooooo much plane time sigh what will I do with it. I hate using plane time for actual work stuff bc it’s such good focused writing time!! I have two story drafts going right now, one funny/a little more lighthearted and one a little heavier, and I think I’ll start by working on one of those. but if I am not getting good stuff done I can try to finish reading this book on writing OR commit an hour or two to pod edits. I’d like to try to finish pod editing by tomorrow so we can post in a timely manner but we will see.

land, take shuttle to car, battle through rush hour traffic 🫠 drop off ruthie & pick up pip from the sitter’s, feed dogs, unpack, collapse into bed, read for an hour, bed by 9:45ish

okay and then the week…

tues: travel day—I just need to get some small scheduling/email tasks done

wed: work from home for a couple hours in the morning then head into campus for a couple meetings. I’ll prob use the morning block to do small tasks, then use my 10:30-2 block to finish that draft student leadership proposal, then meetings then home. I think I’d like to take gym clothes to work with me and see if I can get myself to drop by the gym to do a very short run after work. I may also do a short block of work in the evening.

thurs: ohhh this is going to be a long day on campus (feat. a four-hour retreat plus two hours of additional meetings) but it’s fine I’ll get through it and it might even be fun.

fri: I have one meeting with a former student but otherwise the whole day is blocked off for WFH project work whoohoo! I think I need to do another session of big-picture thinking work prior to the new program manager coming on board next week… like I need to map out my current commitments + priorities for the academic year and then also figure out where the PM might fit into that work. mmm ok we will see I’ll think about that

[simple-amoeba]

This is a limited view on what is deemed legal and illegal or even "appropriate" to do as faculty. We point to the law to defend ourselves, but we are also faced with the reality that it can be interpreted and enforced to benefit those in power. Sure, faculty probably won't punch an ICE agent, but what happens when they demonstrate in solidarity with students? Or when they support student organizers? Or even speak publicly about students who's visas are revoked? All technically legal until their rights to do so are violated.

Students and the local community are asking for help from those who can still afford to comply, to not trust the institution that pays their bills. Hopkins is responsible for displacing an entire neighborhood in east Baltimore by utilizing eminent domain. Homeowners had their property taken from them to make way to expand the Hopkins medical campus and employee housing. The local community has been fighting back against the implementation of an armed private police force (aka campus security you are supposed to report ICE agents to) that would have jurisdiction (without public oversight) of a five mile radius around any Hopkins property....which is most of the city.

Faculty at this University aren't just employees contained to campus grounds. They are neighbors and community members. There are faculty who organize with their community. The question is will their coworkers remain silent out of fear, or trust the masses to protect them and work alongside those pressuring the Hopkins to change.

Previous replies aren't calling faculty or the lawyer a Nazi. We are sharing warnings and bitter lessons from the past. Trying to protect ourselves is not wrong. But if we only find our safety in those in power, defending those institutions with compliance will isolate you from would be allies, and eventually turn you against them.

[umarblog1]

Best Data Analytics Course in Delhi for Freshers and Graduates

In the digital-first era, where decisions are increasingly backed by data, industries are witnessing a seismic shift. Companies now depend on data to design strategies, identify market trends, understand customers, and gain a competitive edge. As a result, the demand for data analytics professionals has skyrocketed—especially in fast-growing economies like India.

If you’re a fresher or a recent graduate, this is the perfect time to build a future-proof career in analytics. And what better place to start than with a Data Analytics course in delhi, the educational and corporate hub that offers unmatched learning and job placement opportunities. Whether you’ve studied engineering, business, economics, or even humanities, data analytics is a field where interdisciplinary talent thrives.

Why Data Analytics Is Ideal for Freshers and Graduates

For those stepping out of college, job markets can be uncertain and competitive. Traditional degree holders often find themselves struggling to secure roles that match their qualifications. However, data analytics provides a clear and focused career path—where skills are more valued than academic pedigree.

Here’s why freshers and graduates should consider upskilling in data analytics:

High Demand: There’s a widening talent gap in analytics and data science, and companies are eager to hire fresh minds they can train and grow.

Quick Entry: With short-term certification programs (3–9 months), you can get job-ready even without prior work experience.

Versatile Career Options: Analytics applies to nearly every field—marketing, finance, HR, tech, healthcare, and logistics.

Global Opportunities: Once trained, your skills are relevant globally, with the option to work remotely or move abroad.

Great Starting Salaries: Entry-level salaries for data analysts in Delhi NCR range from ₹4 to ₹8 LPA, with scope for fast growth.

Why Choose a Data Analytics Course in Delhi?

Enrolling in a Data Analytics course in Delhi offers unique advantages. The city is not only an academic hub but also a business epicenter surrounded by thriving IT parks in Noida and Gurugram. This proximity to real-world job markets makes Delhi the ideal location to learn and launch your career.

Here’s why Delhi stands out:

🎓 Educational Infrastructure

Institutes like AnalytixLabs, Great Learning, UpGrad Campus, ExcelR, and Imarticus Learning offer courses specially designed for beginners. These institutions provide classroom, hybrid, and online learning modes to fit your schedule.

🏙️ Corporate Access

Delhi NCR is home to MNCs, startups, and tech consultancies offering internships and job opportunities. Many data analytics courses in Delhi include placement support, resume workshops, and mock interviews.

🌐 Networking & Events

The capital hosts regular analytics meetups, workshops, and hackathons. These events are ideal for freshers to learn, build confidence, and connect with industry mentors.

What Will You Learn in a Beginner-Friendly Data Analytics Course?

A good course for freshers should focus on fundamentals first, then slowly introduce more complex topics. Here’s what a top-tier data analytics course for graduates typically includes:

✅ Introduction to Data & Analytics

Understanding data types

Data lifecycle

Applications in industries

✅ Excel for Data Analysis

Functions, formulas, pivot tables

Basic data cleaning and charts

✅ SQL for Databases

Writing queries

Joining tables

Filtering and aggregating data

✅ Python for Data Analysis

Data structures

Pandas and NumPy libraries

Data cleaning and wrangling

✅ Data Visualization

Tableau, Power BI, or Python-based visuals

Creating dashboards and interactive reports

✅ Basic Statistics

Descriptive stats

Probability and distributions

Hypothesis testing

✅ Capstone Projects

End-to-end projects simulating real-world data problems

Presentation of insights through dashboards and reports

These modules are tailored to help freshers learn step-by-step while building a solid portfolio of projects to showcase during job interviews.

Best Data Analytics Courses in Delhi for Freshers and Graduates

Here’s a list of top-rated beginner-friendly courses in Delhi NCR that cater specifically to early-career learners:

1. AnalytixLabs – Data Analytics Certification for Freshers

Mode: Classroom (Delhi & Gurgaon) + Online

Duration: 6 months

Features: Mentorship, industry projects, placement support

Why It’s Great: Designed for non-coders and freshers

2. ExcelR – Data Analytics Certification Course

Mode: Online & Offline (Delhi NCR)

Duration: 5–6 months

Tools Covered: Excel, SQL, Tableau, Python

Placement: Interview preparation and job referrals

3. Great Learning – Data Science & Analytics Foundations

Mode: Online (with Delhi-based meetups)

Duration: 3–5 months

Ideal For: College students and recent graduates

Highlights: Live classes, mentorship, Great Lakes certification

4. UpGrad Campus – Data Science for Freshers

Mode: Online, beginner-friendly

Duration: 6 months

Extras: Soft skills training, CV review, career counseling

5. NIIT – Professional Program in Data Analytics

Mode: Classroom + Online

Duration: 6 months

USP: Industry-aligned curriculum, practical exposure

Real Career Paths After a Data Analytics Course

Freshers often wonder: "Will I get hired without experience?" The answer is yes—if you can show you have the skills.

Common entry-level roles include:Job RoleTypical ResponsibilitiesStarting Salary (INR)Data AnalystInterpret data, build dashboards, generate reports₹4–7 LPABusiness AnalystAnalyze business trends and suggest improvements₹5–8 LPAJunior Data ScientistWork with models and machine learning algorithms₹6–10 LPAReporting AnalystAutomate and design reporting systems₹4–6 LPAResearch AnalystAnalyze market/industry data for insights₹3.5–6.5 LPA

Once you get your first break, the learning continues on the job. Many analytics professionals double their salary within 2–3 years by learning tools like Python, R, SQL, and cloud-based analytics platforms.

Tips for Freshers Choosing a Data Analytics Course

Here are some helpful points to keep in mind before enrolling:

🎯 Choose a Structured Program

Don’t go for just any YouTube tutorial. Structured programs offer a clear learning path, mentorship, and assessments to track your progress.

🛠️ Focus on Hands-On Practice

Ensure the course includes projects and real datasets. Recruiters often look at project portfolios more than certificates.

💼 Look for Career Support

Institutes that offer job referrals, resume building, and mock interviews will give you a head start.

🕒 Consider Time & Flexibility

If you’re still in college, opt for weekend or part-time courses. If you’re between jobs, you can go for full-time programs.

Student Success Stories

Many freshers and graduates in Delhi have kick-started their careers with the right data analytics course:

Priya Singh, a B.Com graduate from DU, landed a job at Zomato as a Business Analyst after a 6-month certification from AnalytixLabs.

Aman Tiwari, a mechanical engineering graduate, transitioned into an analytics role with a fintech startup in Noida, tripling his income within 18 months.

Megha Jain, a sociology major, used data analytics skills to get hired as a Junior Research Analyst at a market research firm.

These stories highlight that no matter your background, the right training and commitment can help you break into the field.

Final Thoughts: The Best Time to Start Is Now

The job landscape is evolving. Traditional degrees alone may no longer be enough to secure a great job right after graduation. By enrolling in a Data Analytics course in Delhi, you give yourself a competitive edge and open the door to high-growth, high-paying careers.

Data analytics is a skill that rewards curiosity, logic, and consistency—traits most freshers already have. So, whether you're just graduating or waiting for the right job opportunity, now is the time to upskill and take charge of your career.

[cool-greensboro-nc]

Space That Feels Like Yours

When it comes to privacy and security, it’s nice knowing you don’t have to compromise. At West Quad, each bedroom comes with its own private bathroom and an individually locking door, which gives you that extra layer of comfort when you’re sharing a place. The community also has a monitored fire-sprinkler system and courtesy patrols during certain times, so you can focus on your day without stressing. This student apartment community near A&T State University offers 2- and 3-bedroom floorplans, plus a bonus room in select 2x2 suites if you want a little more space to spread out. It’s set up to give you a mix of personal space and shared living that actually works, without feeling cramped or too exposed.

Job Market and Economy in Greensboro, North Carolina

The job scene in Greensboro’s a mix of steady and shifting. You’ve got health care, education, and logistics playing big roles, with places like Cone Health and FedEx being major employers. If you’re into tech or startups, it’s not a hotbed yet, but there’s some quiet momentum. Colleges help fuel a younger crowd with fresh skills, and manufacturing still holds its own, even though it’s different from the old days. It might take a bit of searching, but you can find solid opportunities. Cost of living’s decent, so your paycheck can stretch further than in bigger cities. Remote work’s picked up here, too, which gives you more flexibility. It’s not flashy, but if you’re looking for stable ground, Greensboro offers that.

Greensboro Arboretum in Greensboro, NC

Tucked into a quiet part of town, the Greensboro Arboretum is one of those places you can go just to breathe a little easier. It’s not huge, but it feels open and calm. You’ll find flower gardens, shaded trails, and even a little wooden bridge that’s perfect for photos. If you’re into plants, there are signs everywhere pointing out different trees and shrubs, but you don’t need to know anything about gardening to enjoy it. Families stroll through, couples walk their dogs, and sometimes you’ll see people just sitting on benches enjoying the quiet. It’s free, easy to get to, and there’s always something blooming depending on the season. You don’t have to plan your visit—just show up and take your time.

A&T Shines in New U.S. News & World Report “2025 Best Graduate Schools” Rankings

You’ve probably got a little extra pride knowing a local university is getting recognized like this. It’s the kind of news that makes you smile, even if you’re not directly linked to graduate programs. It hints at strong academics and a commitment to quality education. You’d expect more students, better resources, and maybe even more community energy around campus. Sure, rankings aren’t everything, but when they shine a light on your hometown spot, it feels like something is clicking into place. It’s nice to see attention going to the university’s hard work, and it gives people around here one more reason to feel good about the future of higher ed where you live.

Link to Map Driving Direction

Greensboro Arboretum 3299 Starmount Dr, Greensboro, NC 27403, United States

Head west on Starmount Dr toward W Market St 0.1 mi

Turn right onto W Market St 0.5 mi

Turn right onto S Lindell Rd 364 ft

Turn left onto Northridge St 0.7 mi

Turn left onto Spring Garden St 0.1 mi

Turn right onto Scott Ave 0.1 mi

Turn left  Restricted usage road  Destination will be on the left 200 ft

West Quad 2111 Spring Garden St, Greensboro, NC 27403, United States

[nmietbbsr]

How BTech CSE Can Lead to High-Paying Tech Jobs in India

If you’re a 12th standard student eyeing a BTech in Computer Science and Engineering (CSE), you’re probably wondering what kind of career awaits you. As a mentor who’s seen the tech landscape grow, I’m here to walk you through how a BTech CSE can unlock high-paying tech jobs in India by 2025. Let’s explore the opportunities, skills, and steps to get you there, backed by solid insights to help you trust the journey.

Why BTech CSE Is a Game-Changer

A BTech in CSE is a four-year degree that equips you with skills in programming, algorithms, artificial intelligence, and more. It’s your gateway to India’s booming tech industry, which is projected to reach $350 billion by 2026, according to a 2024 NASSCOM report. With tech driving everything from e-commerce to healthcare, CSE graduates are in high demand. A 2024 TeamLease study shows that 85% of CSE students in India secure jobs within six months of graduation, far outpacing other engineering branches.

What makes CSE stand out? Its versatility. You’ll learn to build software, analyze data, and secure systems—skills that top companies like Cognizant and IBM value. Places like the NM Institute of Engineering and Technology (NMIET) in Bhubaneswar offer hands-on labs and industry-aligned curricula, ensuring you’re job-ready from day one.

High-Paying Tech Jobs for CSE Graduates

Let’s dive into the exciting career paths you can pursue with a BTech CSE in 2025, along with their earning potential:

Software Engineer: You’ll design and develop applications, from mobile apps to cloud platforms. A 2024 LinkedIn report notes a 22% annual growth in software engineering roles in India, with starting salaries of ₹6-12 LPA. Companies like Capgemini hire freshers for these positions.

Data Scientist: If you love uncovering insights from data, this role is for you. Data scientists help businesses make informed decisions, and India’s analytics market is expected to hit $16 billion by 2025 (per EY). Entry-level salaries range from ₹8-14 LPA.

AI/ML Engineer: Artificial intelligence is transforming industries. As an AI engineer, you’ll create systems like chatbots or recommendation engines. The World Economic Forum predicts AI will generate 1.5 million jobs in India by 2027, with starting pay at ₹10-15 LPA.

Cybersecurity Specialist: With cyber threats rising, companies need experts to protect their systems. Cybersecurity roles are growing at 32% annually (per Cybersecurity Ventures), offering ₹7-12 LPA for freshers.

Cloud Engineer: Cloud platforms like AWS are critical for businesses. India’s cloud market is set to reach $17 billion by 2026 (per Gartner), and cloud engineers earn ₹8-13 LPA starting out.

These roles offer not just high salaries but also global opportunities and remote work options, making CSE a smart choice.

Skills You’ll Gain in BTech CSE

A BTech CSE program teaches you more than just coding. You’ll master languages like Python and Java, ranked among the top programming languages in the 2024 TIOBE Index. You’ll also learn data structures, databases, and emerging fields like machine learning. At the best engineering colleges in Bhubaneswar, you’ll use tools like GitHub and Jupyter Notebook in labs, building real projects like apps or AI models.

Soft skills are equally important. Group projects and internships hone your teamwork and communication, which employers prioritize. A 2024 Indeed survey found that 70% of tech recruiters value problem-solving and adaptability in freshers, skills you’ll sharpen in CSE.

How to Land These High-Paying Jobs

To turn your BTech CSE into a high-paying career, follow these steps:

Excel in Academics: Focus on core subjects like algorithms and databases. Strong grades impress recruiters at campus placements, especially at the best engineering colleges in Bhubaneswar.

Build a Portfolio: Create projects like a personal website or a data visualization tool. A 2024 HackerRank report says 65% of tech employers review portfolios during hiring.

Learn In-Demand Skills: Start with Python (free on Codecademy) and explore AI or cloud computing via Coursera. These skills make you stand out.

Crack Entrance Exams: Prepare for JEE Main or OJEE to secure a spot in top CSE programs. Consistent study is key.

Leverage Placements: Engage with your college’s placement cell. NMIET, for instance, has ties with firms like BYJU’s, ensuring strong job opportunities.

Why Now Is the Perfect Time

India’s tech sector is on fire, and 2025 is an ideal time to pursue BTech CSE. A 2024 McKinsey report highlights that India will need 1 million more tech professionals by 2026, with CSE grads leading the charge. High salaries, job security, and the chance to work on cutting-edge tech make this path exciting. Whether you aim to join a multinational, start a tech venture, or innovate in AI, CSE gives you the foundation to succeed.

As you plan your future, think about the impact you want to make. A BTech CSE isn’t just a degree—it’s a launchpad to a rewarding career. Start preparing, explore colleges, and take your first step toward a high-paying tech job. The industry is waiting for you!

[m-o-p-e]

The officer wrote that he believed the statements were “meant to threaten the insurance company by using the United Healthcare CEO’s homicide to her advantage.”

“Current environment”: Lakeland Police Chief Sam Taylor told NewsChannel 8 that Boston is not a child and should have known better.

“She’s been in this world long enough that she certainly should know better that you can’t make threats like that in the current environment that we live in and think that we’re not going to follow up and put you in jail,” Taylor said.

Taylor has since stopped talking to reporters about the matter as he awaits a decision from the State Attorney’s Office about whether the case will be prosecuted.

$100,000 bail: In court on Dec. 11, Judge Catherine Combee stated there is probable cause for the charge of “written threat to kill or injure and conduct a mass shooting or an act of terrorism,” a second-degree felony punishable by 15 years in prison.

“I do find that the bond of $100,000 is appropriate considering the status of our country at this point,” Combee said.

Combee allowed for Boston to be released on house arrest, but required a GPS monitor and said she would only be allowed to go to court, her attorney’s office, a religious institution, work and a once-a-week grocery shopping trip. She is also not allowed to speak to anyone at BCBS Florida. She is not allowed to possess a firearm or ammunition.

Boston posted $10,000 bond Friday to secure the $100,000 bail.

...

Experts: R. Fred Lewis, a retired Florida Supreme Court justice and current Florida Southern College professor, said upon hearing the facts of the case that it warranted charges. He said the U.S. Supreme Court established three tests a case must meet in order for a threat charge to be brought:

Does the suspect present a clear and present danger?

Is there an immediacy to the threat?

Does the suspect have the capability to carry out the threat?

END OF EXCERPT...

But!

Remember, when the police chief talks about these consequences like an inevitability, courts keep affirming that police have no obligation to protect private citizens. From 2018 and also in Florida:

Following last February’s shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, some students claimed local government officials were at fault for failing to provide protection to students. The students filed suit, naming six defendants, including the Broward school district and the Broward Sheriff’s Office , as well as school deputy Scot Peterson and campus monitor Andrew Medina.

On Monday, though, a federal judge ruled that the government agencies “ had no constitutional duty to protect students who were not in custody.”

This latest decision adds to a growing body of case law establishing that government agencies — including police agencies — have no duty to provide protection to citizens in general:

“Neither the Constitution, nor state law, impose a general duty upon police officers or other governmental officials to protect individual persons from harm — even when they know the harm will occur,” said Darren L. Hutchinson, a professor and associate dean at the University of Florida School of Law. “Police can watch someone attack you, refuse to intervene and not violate the Constitution.” The Supreme Court has repeatedly held that the government has only a duty to protect persons who are “in custody,” he pointed out.

Anyway. Briana Boston's GoFundMe.

[bestschooldubai]

What Makes a CBSE School the Best in Dubai? Key Factors Parents Should Consider

Being a parent in Dubai, getting the best school for your kid is one of the biggest things you'll ever do. Since there are numerous Indian curriculum schools, most parents prefer the CBSE (Central Board of Secondary Education) system due to its systematic approach and scholarly consistency. So what precisely gives the best CBSE schools in Dubai the edge? Let's have a closer look at the most important things every parent should consider before making this life-altering decision.

1. Academic Excellence and Results

Academic performance is probably the most self-evident measure of a good school. The top CBSE schools in Dubai always record outstanding pass percentages in board exams, and students perform very well in streams such as Science, Mathematics, and English. Check the latest CBSE board exam results, national rankings, and percentage pass at the distinction level of the school to gauge its academic acumen.

2. Trained and Experienced Faculty

A school is as good as its teachers. Highly experienced, CBSE-trained, and driven teachers can immensely contribute to the academic life of your child. Choose schools that take teacher training seriously and soak up contemporary teaching pedagogies that turn lessons into an enjoyable, engaging, and student-focused experience.

3. Well-balanced Curriculum and Co-Curricular Activities

The best CBSE schools in Dubai also stress not only studies but also scope for all-around development. Be it sports and music or robotics and debating, co-curricular activities are a major aspect of confidence-building, creativity, and collaboration. A proper balance between extracurriculars and studies helps in well-rounded development.

4. State-of-the-Art Infrastructure and Learning Environment

World-class facilities are a part of the best CBSE schools. Smart classrooms, computer and science labs, library, sports complex, and creative studios are among them. A clean, secure, and equipped campus is the ideal learning space and ensures that children perform well academically as well as in other areas.

5. CBSE Curriculum Integration and Innovation

The CBSE syllabus has national standards, but the top schools take it to the next level by incorporating international learning methods, critical thinking, and application of technology in day-to-day class work. Progressive schools employing new-age practices like project learning and coding classes are leading the way in new learning.

6. Parental Involvement and Communication

Efficient parent-teacher collaboration is crucial. The best CBSE schools in Dubai encourage free communication through frequent parent-teacher conferences, reports on children's progress, and active engagement in school activities. A school that encourages parental feedback and develops a welcoming community can go a great distance in enhancing the experience of a child.

7. Student Well-being and Support Services

A model school puts student well-being and academic achievement first. This includes qualified counselors, wellness activities, anti-bullying protocols, and a healthy environment promoting emotional, mental, and social growth. All these are generally ignored aspects, but important in creating child happy and successful child in the long run.

Conclusion

Selecting among some of Dubai's top-performing CBSE schools involves more than just comparing exam scores or tuition fees. As a parent, you will be looking for a school that not only provides a good academic base, is concerned with the health and well-being of its students, promotes creative development, and has a bright, progressive school atmosphere. By thinking in these general terms, you'll be well prepared to find a CBSE school in Dubai that suits your child's specific needs and expectations.

[traeuthaeou]

MY MOTHER YOU WAS RAPING I DONT CAT PROBABLY WANTED THE PENIS I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU DO TO ME .

traeuthaeou

42s

ROBERT DWYER WENT ON TELEVISION AND SHOT IT'S SELF AND THE PUBLIC A MESSAGE VISUALLY

traeuthaeou

2m

YOUR CHILD FATHER MUST OWN THIS OPERATIONAL NUCLEAR WEAPONS I AM TIRED OF YOU O W N .. NOW OR WON KOREAN LEGAL TENDER SEND THE KOREANS GOD IN HANEUINM SPELL HAWKINS AND HOPKINS G O D AND D O G , IN GOD WE TRUST I MEAN THAT I AVERAGE - NOT WHAT YOU AVERAGE SHOULD GRADUATED FROM GRADE SCHOOL NAME MEAN OR AMEN TO OTHER SEX RESPONDING TO MY REPORT AND CONFESSION AND RESPONSE

traeuthaeou

2m

MISSION HAWKINS FOUNDATIONS AND OWNINGS YORK PA TO MODERN BALTIMORE

Blaze

0 notes

traeuthaeou

1m

I DONT WANT TO SELL IT TO YOU YOU MAKE IT BUSINESS AND EXCHANGE LAWS TO GIVE ME DOLLAR AND CAN NOT GET ME PRODUCE BUT HAND ME LEGAL TENDER AND NOT ADDRESS BY PROPER LEGAL TITLE AND TELL ME TO GET IT NO INCOMPETENCE .. YOUR FAILURE

Officer Hawkins , Lee Terry

Your business on Google

Baltimore City Juvenile Justice Center

City courthouse in Baltimore, Maryland

Address: 300 N Gay St, Baltimore, MD 21202

Phone: (443) 263-8706

Hours: 

Closed ⋅ Opens 8:30 AM Mon

Post by @traeuthaeou

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · CASENOPSYIS COUNTER FIT COINAGE · The Investigation began with legal tender and counter fit intelligence legal tender debt

Tumblr

Case Closed , Case Solved .. ! Case Open ... secured

TREASURY GOVERNMENT MINT , RESPONSE THANK YOU TO ALL FOR COUNTERFITTING COINAGE FOR OURS TO FURTHER PROGRESS IN CAREER AND GAIN INTELLIGENCE , THANK YOU TERRY !

traeuthaeou

35s

MONEY OR LEGAL TENDER DEBT RELIEF - TREASURY CASE COUNTERFIT JOHNS HOPKINS CASENOPSYIS Y=YES Y=YORK Y=CHROMOSOME 25 . BE SECURED BUREAU OF EXISTENCE

Blaze

BALTIMORE WORKS .. ALL IN TIME LINE RANGE ALL IN BALTIMORE NOT BIRTH PLACE YORK COUNT PENNSYLVANIA

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

traeuthaeou

ALLAHTREU TREUALLAH TRUE SCRAMBLED LANGUAGEOLOGIST

Founder Terry.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland The prestigious and sprawling Johns Hopkins University campus in Homewood is home to tree-lined paths, traditional redbrick architecture, and a landmark clock tower. The campus features the Shriver Hall Concert Series and the Baltimore Museum of Art, as well as popular Wyman Park, Wyman Park Dell, and Stony Run Trail. The surrounding area has many taverns and casual eateries popular with students.

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 3 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 11 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 1 min · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins 4 mins · RAVENDOVE Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins was RavenDove - yin yin / yang RavenDove - yin yin / yang - COLD NUMB AND (LOVIEY DOVIEY) CALCULATED SPELL IT D or L Dove or Love maybe L or D Lover or Dover pythagorean numerology ABC123 Kauffman-Hawkins-Hawk or Hopk -H__kins aw or op and Hopkins signed Booper or just Boop not Book BUT LOKI OR BOOPER SAN with Blaze Pascal. with Terry Lee Hawkins ( male ) @ikigami shinigam HAWKINS HOKINSU/HOKINZU https://www.facebook.com/notes/terry-lee-kauffman-hawkins/bac-formula-racing-f3-series-bac-mission-statement/2296158727310875/ — feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. YES=Y=YES / NO=N=NO

Blaze

India, officially the Republic of India, is a country in South Asia. It is the seventh-largest country by area; the most populous country from June 2023 onwards; and since its independence in 1947, the world's most populous democracy. Wikipedia

Blaze

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

traeuthaeou

5m ago

YORK OR WORK HOSPITAL Y LETTER 15 W LETTER 23

The University of Maryland, Baltimore is a public university in Baltimore, Maryland, United States. Founded in 1807, it is the second oldest college in Maryland and comprises some of the oldest professional schools of dentistry, law, medicine, pharmacy, social work and nursing in the United States. Wikipedia

Avg cost after aid

––

Graduation rate

95%

Acceptance rate

––Graduation rate is for non-first-time, full-time undergraduate students who graduated within 6 years. They were the largest group of students (75%) according to the 2022–23 College Scorecard data ·more 

From US Dept of Education · Learn more

Address: 

620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Address: 620 W Lexington St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Phone: (410) 706-3100

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

traeuthaeou

2m ago

ALLAH STEP ONE .. GOD TO ALL THOSE PEOPLE NOT A TWELVE STEP LETTER A TO L PROGRAM AT JOHNS HOPKINS AND GOD OR DOG . CHIP HOUSE HUOJINSEN YOU AN ADULT I AM REPORTING TO YOU. H O U S E - H U O J I N S E N . HAWKINGSON TERRY LEE - SOBRIQUET BOOPER BOOPPER THEOS LOKI TEREMY

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins

is with

Terry Lee Hawkins Jr.

May 9 at 4:48 PM

·

Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 3 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling blessed with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 11 mins · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins is feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. 1 min · Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins 4 mins · RAVENDOVE Terry Lee Kauffman Hawkins was RavenDove - yin yin / yang RavenDove - yin yin / yang - COLD NUMB AND (LOVIEY DOVIEY) CALCULATED SPELL IT D or L Dove or Love maybe L or D Lover or Dover pythagorean numerology ABC123 Kauffman-Hawkins-Hawk or Hopk -H__kins aw or op and Hopkins signed Booper or just Boop not Book BUT LOKI OR BOOPER SAN with Blaze Pascal. with Terry Lee Hawkins ( male ) @ikigami shinigam HAWKINS HOKINSU/HOKINZU https://www.facebook.com/notes/terry-lee-kauffman-hawkins/bac-formula-racing-f3-series-bac-mission-statement/2296158727310875/ — feeling professional with Terry Lee Hawkins Jr. YES=Y=YES / NO=N=NO

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Enoch Pratt Free Library

4.6301 Google reviews

Public library in Baltimore, Maryland

Website

Directions

Reviews

Save

Share

Call

Description

The Enoch Pratt Free Library is the free public library system of Baltimore, Maryland. Its Central Library is located on 400 Cathedral Street and occupies the northeastern three quarters of a city block ... Wikipedia

Departments: Maryland State Library for the Blind and Print Disabled

Address: 400 Cathedral St, Baltimore, MD 21201

Architect: Edward Lippincott Tilton

Hours: 

Open ⋅ Closes 8 PM · More hours

Opened: 1882

Phone: (410) 396-5430

Branches: 22

Director: Chad Helton, President and CEO

Johns Hopkins Homewood

Neighborhood in Baltimore, Maryland

Blaze

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

2 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes

Blaze

0 notes