#btw someone pointed out that it looks like a face (a smiley face) and now I can't unsee it

[daesungindistress]

Redesigned to clear up misunderstandings? 🤭

[h4venpha]

AAAA CAN WE PLS GET SOME BOXING KNIVES HCS LIKE IMAGINE WEARING A JACKET W HIS NAME AND LOGO OR WTV skshsjsbshsjjs

𝐛𝐨𝐱𝐞𝐫!𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐜 𓂃 ⟡

boxer!millions knives x reader

cw: slight violence, blood mentions

a/n: why did i almost forget how to write hcs

- boyfriend or bodyguard? well… yes

- he is a walking threat btw! a constant reminder to everyone that if they touch you, there will be consequences. walking down the street to wherever, holding your hand in his bigger one.

- he’s got this mean scowl on his face –bonus points if you’re a bubbly smiley person. people kind of look at you both like, how the hell did they get together? because you quite literally look like a sheep holding a wolf’s hand.

- knives is massive btw. like it literally does not matter how big or tall you are, he can and definitely will carry you. on his back, like a koala, bridal style, he can do it all. with ease too, not even breaking a sweat as you cling onto him.

- outside the ring, he’s definitely more composed with you. quieter, calmer, still keen and observant, but never rowdy or loud.

- it’s silly to see him in hoodies. bulging muscles completely covered and he just looks like a cuddly teddy bear, minus the constant scowl on his face.

- nai knows what he’s capable of: knocking someone’s jaw off or breaking bones– he knows how to hurt someone and make it hurt bad. but with you, his hands turn into big warm paws, holding your face while he kisses you. arms putting someone in a choke hold just the night before, now wrapping lovingly around your waist while he grumbles good morning in your ear.

- knives looooves seeing you in the crowd watching him in the ring. now honestly before you got together, he mostly fought to release stress and see people bloody and bruised from his fists. but seeing you in the crowd gives him another reason to fight: cause god he loves showing off to you.

- he likes seeing your eyes sparkle up at him whenever he wins, he likes it when you run up to him and congratulate him with a sweet, satisfactory kiss.

- nai literally only lets you patch him up. he won't even let another nurse get within a three feet radius of him.

- he thinks it’s cute the way you take care of his wounds. gently wrapping gauze around them or holding an ice pack to his head, its adorable to see you bite your lip in concentration.

- knives like the little shit he is, like to pretend to wince just to see your reaction. forcing out a hiss when you check over his wounds, flinching back slightly. and seeing you gasp and scramble trying to apologize while wanting to pull away yet ease his pain is so fucking cute to him.

- but he has to go through with the act or you’ll swat him. so he hides his smile and brushes it off, telling you to continue. and when you look at him with wide, concerned eyes, he fights back the urge to kiss you.

[thisandthat-whatever]

It seems like the entertainment industry really like Zendaya and Tom together. Over the last couple of years I have listened to different podcasts, and there is no denying how well respected they both are. Tom in particular, is so well liked by almost everyone. My opinion is that he has that unique quality of making you feel like you are the most important person in the room when he is talking to you. Zendaya is just more guarded and shy. Why are they so well liked together?

On the other hand JE and Olivia Jade , the industry, imo, is like whatever. A couple of weeks ago there was an anonymous source to People about how they are stronger than ever and such a cute couple. A few magazines did a write up, but you could tell because of the rocky relationship of those 2, the tone was more let's wait and see. They did not really care.

In the past, podcasts that liked Zendaya and JE together, their only reason was that they are both tall. I always thought that JE truly did not understand Zendaya, he was just going through the motions and she was just trying so hard. BTW those same podcasts now look at the chemistry between Tom and Zendaya, and have now come around and admit being tall is not the end all.

First of all, JE was textbook rebound for her. And also some people didn’t agree with me then but I still stand by it that her being public with JE was partly due to a bit of a petty move on her part after quite public (even if it was unintentional) pics of Tom with the blond auntie (forgot her name already. All I remember of her is that even though she is probably his age, she had the face of someone twice her age hence me calling her auntie).

I am not saying her rebound rs with JE was out of pettiness, but her being public with JE the way she wasn’t with Tom was out of pettiness after the public Tom pics with the blonde girl. Her grabbing his ass, them walking hand in hand at that festival in London… they were some pretty public and lowkey PDA pics.

And regardless of who initiated the breakup between T and Z, most of us could tell by how she acted after those pics dropped that she was hurt , and as she claimed herself she was determined to make that summer her “hot girl summer”. Smells of the “le petty” perfume to me.😂 I ain’t criticizing . I would be petty too probably.

At that time JE was in South Africa with his gf but fast forward a couple of weeks and he dropped the placeholder gf and hooked up with Z. Not saying she didn’t like JE at all. I am sure she liked some of him the way Tom liked some parts of the auntie blonde and the whassherface after her (I am genuinely terrible with names of people I don’t care about. After a few years, I forget this kinda useless info).

Anyway, back to your original point, Tom and Z are individually charming people. Z’s charms to me are more observed and learned from other stars since her childhood. She clearly spent a lot of her childhood time practicing that “happy smiley faces” type of speech. Tom’s charm is not as learned but it is more about using his innate charisma and natural extrovert energy to be authentically himself and likable. So, since they are individually charming people , together they make such a sweet couple that needs diabetes warning for their followers. Therefore you can’t even compare their likability to other couples their age.

[dr4kenlvr]

get a clue !!

pairing: baji keisuke, mikey sano, mitsuya takashi, angry kawata, chifuyu matsuno x gn!reader

genre/wc: fluff, crack (?) - 1.1k+

request: could you do a reader who is the most dense mf on earth. like to the point where someone could be like “ily” and she’d b like “aw that’s so nice! i love you too! you’re such a great friend!”. please do it in headcanon style and they can go in whatever direction you see fit. with baji, mikey, mitsuya, souya, and chifuyu.

a/n: not proofread ily enjoy muah

BAJI:

baji's gonna have a TOUGH time with this one

he got the WHOLE GANG hyping him up to ask you out—chifuyu's all like "you got it bro, just grab y/n's hand all romantically when you confess. and KEEP EYE CONTACT, don't even BLINK BRO."

then smiley's like "that's cringey as fuck! just be chill 'bout it. maybe a cheeky wink though."

and peh-yan's like "or just start making out!"

(he took none of their advice btw) SO he does it baji keisuke style, and tells you one day when you're both walking home together

when he finally builds up the courage, he averts his gaze and awaits your response

... he thinks you're joking at first, when you respond with: "aw, baji! love you too, you're like—my bestest friend."

... huh?

"n-no, i mean like," and he takes one look at your curious, innocent eyes and he literally malfunctions and just shits himself

so when he told the gang, they had no mercy on him: each member literally busted a lung at his failed attempt at confessing

mikey was literally gonna piss himself, peh and pah literally had to hold one another up, and smiley was cackling

so thenceforth, baji tries to throw semi-subtle hints—always complimenting you, opening the door for you, walking next to you, etc.

the thing is, he does these kinds of things everyday anyway, so how are you supposed to tell the difference behind his intentions?

in the end, baji ends up just smack on kissing ur cheek and saying "i want to date you, dammit!" <3

MIKEY:

this guy got the whole gang screaming—why can't their oh so strong leader tell his crush he likes them?

"it's not my fault guys! i don't know how y/n can't tell!!!!" he pouts his 100th pout

and to be honest draken can't believe iteither, not with the way mikey treats you on a daily basis

the constant head pats, always offering to ride with him, lending you his jacket, AND his snacks too ??!! draken is just as confused

mikey just wants to treat u well :((( but he doesn't know how much more obvious he can get LMAO

one day you were hanging out with him and the others, and mikey was walking ahead with his head on your shoulder

he looks up and admires you for a bit, until he decided to be bold and say: "you're so cute, you know that? i would never get bored of looking at you"

baji's eyes literally bulge out, and he immediately tells the others. they're all watching the two of you like a group of stray cats

"oh mikey, you're so sweet. thanks!" then you continue walking as if nothing happened

the stray cats then turn into stray hyenas when they CACKLE at the look on mikey's face

MITSUYA:

mitusya tried really hard to be straight forward with you

but found that increasingly more difficult when you just wouldn't take a hint!

he would do everything he could imagine that was remotely gentleman-ly

you found it very endearing, but honestly though he was just being kind to you, like he always was

so, he was constantly smacked in the face with a "aw thanks mitsu'!" or a "i love you too, you're a great friend."

he was starting to get lost to be honest, and went to draken for help at one point

if anything, draken couldn't help since he's the oblivious one between him and emma LOL

despite how arduous your denseness can be, mitsuya finds it amusing too

he'd let out a small chuckle at your obliviousness, and laugh graciously at the look on your face when he does

you once asked what was wrong, and he only responded with "ah nothing love, you're just so cute."

now that made you think twice <3

ANGRY:

poor boy is gonna start screaming if you don't just kiss him right now i swear

with his slightly closed off nature (i mean, in comparison to his brother, i'd say he's pretty mellow LOL), angry is having some trouble on his own already in making moves

but combined with the density of your head ???? he's rolling on the floor whining 24/7

smiley gets annoyed at one point and tells him to "man UP! y/n's not gonna tell if you chicken out every time you make contact!"

angry, sniffling: "ok ..."

so, cue this: you, and the twins, hanging out together, but the wind picks up and angry notices you start to shiver

his brother, as if he read his mind, signals for him to throw his jacket over yours because it's "extremely romantic"

even smiley is confident that you won't miss this HUGE clue

angry, bubbling as much courage as he can, takes his jacket off and drapes it over you in a hurried manner

he's blushing, and he shoves his hands into his pant pockets to try and stay calm

"keep it for the night, i don't need it okay ?!"

you pause and blink up at him and he thinks he's gonna shit himself, until you smile and simply thank him before dropping the whole situation

smileys like -o-

while angry's like ☉o☉

"... NOW WHAT SMILEY ?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW !!"

CHIFUYU:

oh oh oh you know chifuyu is pulling out ALL the stops for this one

he knows what he's doing, he's got the best moves in the book to aid him from reading all those shoujo mangas

baji wishes him good luck with a relatively hard smack on the back, and he watches chifuyu saunter off towards you with the suavest energy he's ever seen

tbh baji thinks he looks really fucking stupid but props to him for that confidence i guess ??

you're walking down the hall when chifuyu calls your name, making you turn and wave to him with that smile he oh so adores

"hey y/n! i was wondering if, you know, you'd like to hang out some time after school? maybe head to a cafe, how's that sound to ya'?"

as he's saying this, chifuyu makes sure to keep eye contact with you and pay attention to any facial indicators of a reaction

(baji's hiding behind a wall by the way, but he's keenly listening in)

you're startled by the sudden invitation, but interpret it as no more than a friendly hang out—you tell him:

"sure! we can do some studying and—oh! your friend baji can come along too!"

wait ... baji? what would baji...—oh, you think this is FRIEND hang out

and before chifuyu could disagree, baji's LOUDASS hollers can be heard from his hiding spot

he's absolutely crying over at his friend's semi-successful attempt at getting a date

"i can't believe it," chifuyu wails to baji after school, "how could y/n not tell? i even did the SMOULDER. well, at least i get to somewhat hang out wit—"

baji: "—wait wait wait, did you say you ... you SMOULDERD AT Y/N????"

chifuyu nods, and baji collapses in laughter at his friend for making such an idiotic choice LMFAOOOO

well, too much shoujo manga for him <3

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @chuuae @kazuhoya @eriskaitto @gwynsapphire @sscarchiyo (send an ask or dm to be added!)

your interactions are very appreciated! <3

[accio-victuuri]

THE 🦴 NECKLACE : EXPLAINED

As an early celebration to it’s 1 yr anniversary, let’s talk some more, clown harder and dive deeper into this necklace. First photographed 110720 at the airport, we all thought it was just another bling... but we were so wrong. I have mentioned this in my jewelry post but I wanted something more comprehensive. so let’s go! This is riddled with CPN, so if that’s not your thing then move along.

What is the Brand EyeFunny? Is it a really niche brand? Has he worn it before?

EYEFUNNY, which originated in Japan, was founded by Kawamura in 2005. The brand combines high-end and low-end aesthetics by combining diamonds with streetwear to create pop art-related shapes and patterns. This method also gives traditional The industry has brought fresh air. Jury Kawamura likes diamonds very much, but it is difficult to find the kind of design he likes, so he started to make diamond jewelry for himself.

Its iconic pendant is a The smiling face of diamonds and the diamond letters connected together are also its representative products. The brand also provides customized services.

If you search the keyword eyefunny on Weibo, you won’t find much. Most of it are actually photos of Yibo. They have no official weibo account which means they are not that big enough in China to start one. They only have 3 physical stores which are all in Japan. I found other artists who wore them however, theirs is the signature “custom” style of The brand. Which is either the smiley face and letter to spell their names or initials.

The key person here is G-Dragon, who is someone Web looks up to as an idol. I will go back to him later but keep that in mind. Another important thing is GD did a collaboration with Eyefunny.

Outside of 2020-present Web never wore Eyefunny jewelry. To date he has been seen with three: Daisy + Star, 85 necklace ( which is what the brand is famous for— custom pendants ) and 🦴 necklace. His full diamond inlaid 🦴. very fancy.

People have also pointed out that Web’s personal taste before the ox necklace and all these are larger ones. more of the hip-hop style, not dainty ones like this. The small/slim designs are more of Xiao laoshi’s.

Now let’s move to the details/theories/speculations:

• This one is my favorite from @tracer85s because of the romantic interpretation. “you are my rib bone”

• @rainbowsky also did their explanation over here.

• The most important question is why a BONE? What’s the reference? He has never used that symbol for himself. We can understand the meaning behind ox-head or lion-head gucci necklaces. but this one is a bit tricky. Or is it? If you pay attention, it’s actually easy. It refers to GG calling him gouzaizai ( puppy ) in that interview we all loved. A term of endearment. Something that only GG ( I think and his parents lol ) can call him.

Web has this cool guy / stoic persona and being a puppy is not something anyone will identify him. It’s a side of himself that GG got to see and adored. So I think that stuck with him and probably still calls him that to tease him.

• This one talks about a fake rumor that they know BXGs are talking bout the 🦴 so GG told him he will buy more 🦴 related things.

• I know there are other rumors out there that says he has this as a couple necklace with another person. which is a lie btw. No one can produce a clear photo of it, enough to be identifiable as the same one. Lol. It’s just ‘trust me bro’. No solid visual evidence at all. I’m a BXG so i love receipts, and if you don’t have it— move along. Also, Yibo having the 🦴 necklace as his own jewelry is on brand for him. He is mister one-of-a-kind. When he started wearing the ox-head consistently, people identified him with it. You even have knock offs all over the internet. Then he started using 🦴, it became his signature jewelry. That’s just how he is. Giving the exact same necklace to someone else and having them wear it the same timeframe as him is just stupidity. Especially for artists who get dating rumors ( girl and boy pairings ) with the simplest matching set. Even a freakin same hat/cap can set people off. So. Nope. &&& Take note that GG only wore his Gucci half of their (alleged) couple necklace when Web has not worn it for a year. Very smart. That’s how you do it! Casual fans won’t notice that— only clowns.

• On 11/8-11/10, both of them are in Beijing and allegedly spent time together.

• Now how was this purchased? The speculation is, this was bought along with the other two necklaces. Remember that Daisy+ Star appeared after his 2020 birthday “vacation” and the rumors of 23 gifts — well, it makes sense that GG will give him multiple ones. Web is so spoiled by his rich gege.

PURCHASE #1 💰: DAISY + Star.

This is the part where I will continue the topic of G-Dragon and his collab with Eyefunny. If you know nothing about him, what’s relevant here is he is big on the smiley face and daisy imagery. So, CPN is, GG bought the Daisy because he knows how much of a fan Web is and it’s part of the collaboration. Then he added that small star as something personal. Cause they are each other’s STAR and all that. they are so sweet it’s disgusting. lol.

PURCHASE #2💰: 85 Necklace

Self explanatory. 8/5. August 5. His Birthday. Tracer 85 etc.

PURCHASE #3 💰: 🦴 Necklace

Out of all the 3, this one is the wildcard. Xiao Zhan’s pick. The other two are all in favor of the birthday boy. The look of 🦴 fits with GG’s personal jewelry aesthetic. Something that looks simple and not distracting. He chose this thinking that the meaning will be only for the two of them.

So with all that purchased— You have Bobo who wore the 3 in the same year. Then sticking with what his GG picked for him. ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

I’m personally surprised with how long he wore this and seems like he will stick with it. I just hope it won’t get the same notoriety as the ox head. That’s why I think it took me so long to make a proper post. It’s best to keep it under wraps so people will not use it against us. or Yibo, and force him to stop wearing it. Let’s just keep an eye out and smile when he see him with it. He can be wearing all the Chanel accessories— but you the 🦴 will always be there somewhere.

[heezoneie]

Hello lovely! 💕 Hope you're having a good day!

Can I ask for a reaction from stray kids where they meet you at a fan meeting and are attracted to you?

Thank you so much and I like your blog!

hey babe! i’m having a great day, thanks for asking🥺! i’m glad you enjoy my blog, and i hope you enjoy this reaction! <3

group: stray kids

member: all

genre: fluff

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

Chan:

• when you first walked up to Chan his breath immediately got caught in his chest.

• your bright smile never leaving his view for a second. he couldn’t believe his eyes.

• immediately when you reached the table he began to make conversation. “hii, what’s your name?” he said as he grasped your hands in his.

• “my name’s y/n” his heart began to beat a little faster at the sound of your voice. he has never reacted this way to a fan before.

• chan found himself getting flustered as you ranted about how good of a leader he is. “overall you are the most caring, loving, all round amazing person and leader there could be.”

• his cute dimple showed as he hid his face behind your hands that were still locked with his. he lifted his head and your eyes met with his comforting brown ones.

• “i know i’m technically not supposed to say this,” he began while eyeing the staff behind him, “but i think your super pretty, and i would like to meet you again.”

• your eyes widened at his statement. you’ve read about situations like this happening, but never in a million years did you think it would actually happen.

• chan leaned into your ear and whispered, “meet me outside after the meeting, i can’t wait to talk to you more.” with that he pulled away with a wink.

Minho:

• you had walked up the table while Minho had his back turned. when he turned back around, his eyes widened.

• “oh sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you..” you said sheepishly. minho.exe has stopped working he felt his heart soften at your voice.

• he smiled, “no no, it was my fault i should have been paying attention.” as you were handing him some plushies of his cats, you happen to accidentally drop one.

• ofc minho couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you. “mY cAts!! mY pReCioUs cAts!” he grabbed his heart dramatically.

• you quickly picked up the stuffed soonie, and handed it to him. “i can’t believe i just did that,” you muttered to yourself.

• (he’s totally whipped already, but who’s keeping track?)

• “i think you owe me now, after dropping my car of course” he panned. quirking an eyebrow, his statement puzzled you.

• “to replace the pain you’ve inflicted upon this stuffed soonie, i think you should come meet the real soonie and give him all the pets he deserves.”

• deciding to go along, you nodded your head, “ i definitely think i should, to apologize.” grabbing your phone from your hand, minho put in his address.

• “be there by 6, don’t be late.” he gave you a smirk and sent you down to meet the rest of the members.

Changbin:

• we are all aware how this man is a s o f t i e as soon as he saw you in the crowd his face would immediately light up.

• he could not keep his eyes off of you (lowkey jealous when you were talking to the other members)

• but oh boy, as soon as you reached him, he would turn into a big baby, and probably tease you about not coming to him first. not like you had a choice

• he would grab your hands and pretend cry into them, which made your face turn bright red. this man knows what he’s doing to you btw.

• he would be so smiley, and makes sure to show off his famous aegyo, bc he wants to to fall for him

:((( even though you already have smh

• binnie would 100% make sure to somehow give you his number and meet up afterwards, bc he’s totally not in love or anything

Hyunjin:

• i got a little carried away with hyun’s😅

• our drama king

• ofc when his eyes found you, his jaw dropped, i mean physical fell

• his eyes followed you everywhere. he looked like this: 👀🙀 he definitely tried to convince chan to switch places with him so he could talk to you first

• when chan said no, he went 😠😠😔

•pouty baby bc he just wanted to talk you first:(((

• when you finally got to him, he flashed his always amazing eye smile. you noticed he had some makeup covering his mole under his eye, and you told him about how much you loved it.

• he:(((( wiped:(((( off:(((( the:(((( makeup:((((

• like when felix did it to his freckles in that one interview? yeah that’s what hyunjin did

• he is also a lowkey highkey flirt with you, constantly touching your hair, hands, face, basically anything he can within reason

• he got so sad when you had to leave, almost to the point where he got so caught up in pouting that he nearly forgot to ask for your number till you were already walking away.

• this boy did not care if anybody else saw, or what the staff was gonna say. he jumped out of his chair and quickly ran to you.

• gaining your attention, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of sight of all the other impatient stays wanting to see their precious hyunjin.

• that’s where he asked for your number, and went on a little rant about how he’s sorry he made a scene.

• it’s safe to say you guys went for food right after the fan sign

Jisung:

• when he saw you walk in, he knew. like he KNEW that he wanted to talk to you, hang out with you, etc.

• so so incredibly hyper when you got to talk to him

• this boy would be so goofy with you, grabbing your hands and flailing them around. it would just be him wanting to make you laugh :((

•jisung swore could swear that when he made you laugh for the first time, angels descended from the heavens.

• he didn’t want to stop talking with you, he just wanted to take you back to dorm right then and there, and just hang.

• you best bet this boy talked to you until finally the staff had to intervene to get the line moving again. he handed you a piece of paper, and told you to wait until you got out of line to open it.

• once you finished going through the line, you found a empty area near the exit and opened the little piece of paper.

• wrote in a messy scribe from writing fast, the paper said “meet me behind the building @ 4, if anybody bugs you tell them your with me. ;)”

Felix:

• he saw you as soon as the fan sign started he basically started bouncing in his seat. (yk the vibrating thing he does? he did that out of happiness.)

• lix would watch you interact with the other members with the biggest smile on his face.

• he would admire all the little mannerisms or quirks/habits you have while making conversations. he just watches with big doe eyes full of admiration.

• he knew he n e e d e d to talk to you. when you got to him, he was so excited and giddy.

• this boy just looked at you with wonder as you talked. he would listen to you talk and laugh all day if he could.

• he thinks you are the most adorable thing to ever walk the earth. he just wants to bundle you up and feed you brownies and cake :((( (someone pls find me a felix)

• when he realized time was up, and he was gonna have to let you go, he got so sad. but was he gonna let you go? no, no he was not.

• felix quickly grabbed a stuffed bear from behind him and wrote his number on its little bow.

• as he handed you the bear he said, “pls call me, i want to see you again.🥺”

Seungmin:

• bby seungminnie

• okay, i feel seungmin would be the best at hiding the fact that he is 100% simping for you even though he just met you 5 seconds ago.

• he would act normal, but on the inside be a complete mushy gushy mess, crying over how adorable and cute you are.

• secretly, would be cherishing the way your hand fit in his perfectly, and the way he never wanted to let go :(((((

• he would look at you with the most adorable eyes ever. he would definitely give you the sweetest most softest smile ever.

• his eyes got so sad when you told him you had to move on to the member bc other stays were becoming impatient :(

• he discreetly put his phone number in your phone, and made sure to tell you to text him asap :(

• i want a seungmin.

Jeongin:

• bbys eyes would be literally this “🥺” when he saw you.

• he was immediately so taken back and needed a minute to compose himself before he ran up to you himself.

• when you were talking to him, he would give you the biggest most cheesey smile ever. he was just so happy to be talking to you.

• he was already falling for the way you talked, acted, looked, just everything about you.

• he would hold your hands so tight, never wanting to let you go. his eyes wouldn’t leave yours for a second, not even when the staff tried to talk to him.

• when he finally decided to listen to the staff telling him to wrap up the conversation, he made sure to tel you to meet him after the fan sign

• and who were you to pass up and opportunity like that?

• he was so happy when he saw you show up after, bby couldn’t stop smiling the whole day. :((

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Jisung

request:  - anon: Could you maybe write an enemies to lovers like the Chan one but with jisung?? It was so good 😔😔😭🥺💞💞💖💘💘💞💗💞💗💕💞 can it be fluffy and Angsty hehe 😖 maybe where they're both college students -  anon: Can you do a Enemies to Lovers AU with chan!!! Where they're going to college and their families happen to be friends so they get an apartment together to save money, but the first time they meet it doesn't go well. Then yk, slowly w time they fall in love ahhaha... I love your writings btw!! 💓💞💓💝💓💞💓💝 (I recently sent the ask about the enemies to lovers au w chan that involved going to college.. since you literally just wrote an enemies to lovers au for chan if you want you can do my request (if u do it ahahha) with jisung!!)  - anon: I really love how you write au’s/fanfictions. I just want to know if u can write something about han jisung?? maybe a cafe love story or another tattoo artist just like chan? or maybe a studio date night?

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, college!au, roommate!au, tattoo apprentice!jisung lol (fluff, a bit of angst) 

pairing/s: Han Jisung / Reader ( ft skz Bang Chan and nct/wayv/superm (lmao)  Lucas )

word count: 18k 

tw: I talk about like kind of sad stuff when jisung has like an artist’s block in this I guess 

a/n: thank u anons for being so patient with this request!! I rly hope that I managed to do it well and that you guys are satisfied with the outcome n have fun reading it hehe, it was kind of inspired by the song sunshine!! by stray kids so I hope that it gives u the same good vibes I got from the song while writing this :( ok bye 

If it were any other person standing in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t have regretted having an outburst in the café for the morning crowd to see.

The fight, or outburst (if you wanted to relieve him of any role in the exchange), had started rather simply. You were just having one of those days where it was raining outside, you were awake even before roosters were (in your opinion) and you had wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and sleep into the evening.

You had gone to grab your morning coffee, combating against the rain with your multi-coloured umbrella, as one does. Shoving the doors of the café open, you were met with shouts of names and storms of people squeezing to collect their orders. The whole ordeal would’ve made you pretty at ease if it weren’t for the coldness of your feet and the way your umbrella would cause someone to slip soon if you didn’t move.

Your shoes squelched against the shiny wood floors of the café, each step making you cringe as you waited anxiously to reach the front of the line, desperate to put an end to this experience. Thankfully enough, your order was pretty straightforward, so you’d collected it quickly, the small smiley face drawn on the cup by the staff serving to put you in a slightly less dreadful mood.

Stationing yourself at one of the empty tables you’d spotted by the exit, you set your still-dripping umbrella on the floor before you tried to get your tissues out to salvage whatever you could of your shoes. Shrugging off your coat, you’d draped it over the back of the seat.

Glancing at the time on your phone before you shoved your notes aside within your bag, you’d pushed your arm forward and opened your bag harshly, taking your box file out of your bag, almost nicking yourself against the broken corner of the file in your rush.

The next sequence of events happened quickly, and too ‘all-at-once’ for you to process. Upon taking out your box file, you’d heard a yelp behind you, followed by harsh footsteps and the splash of coffee on your box file.

Letting out a loud yelp of surprise as the person in question had stopped their fall with a loud thud of their hands against the pillar in front of you, they’d turned to you with wide-eyes, their eyebrows quickly furrowing into an expression that looked utterly ticked-off, their mouth already opening to speak.

You’d seemed to beat them to it, hurriedly grabbing your tissues to wipe down your file, checking for any brown-stains on your precious papers.

“What the hell,” you scoffed, casting a glance up at the boy. He had stood slightly taller than you, with rounded eyes and a defined nose, his lips pressed into a firm line.

He looked fairly young, from the way he dressed in brand-name basics to the way he was practically decked out in accessories. Call you biased, but if this was a senior or a child, you’d probably have let them off with it. But the way he was looking at you now was somehow successfully unnerving you, and you supposed admiring his annoyed features was about the last thing you should be doing at the moment.

“‘What the hell’?” He echoed your words, “who’s the one that chose to stand in the middle of nowhere to go through their damned bag?”

Your eyebrows raised in offence, your annoyance from before making itself known as you frowned, your grip on your bag tightening, “oh, and it’s my fault you have poor coordination?”

The boy had narrowed his eyes, mirroring your expression, his bracelets shifting on his wrist as he gestured at your umbrella on the floor.

“Your stupid umbrella was the reason I tripped in the first place,” he told you pointedly, strangely making you even more annoyed that he chose to attack not only you but your innocent umbrella too.

Your volume raised involuntarily with your frustration, “it’s so bright! It was basically screaming at you that it was there,” you defended, attracting a few customers attention with your outburst. You didn’t understand why you had to go through this so early in the morning when you were already irritable beyond belief.  

The boy seemed to have noticed this as well, discomfort washing over him at the feeling of the crowd’s stares. Ultimately deciding he would rather give up the fight with the crazy stranger from the café and leave before he was late for his job at the tattoo studio.

“Whatever,” he huffed, leaving the café, the bells at the doors jingling loudly as it swung back.

Something about the apology just wasn’t enough for you, (maybe you just expected more because he irked you) but you were already late enough for class. Rolling your eyes, you’d slung your bag around your shoulder with a thump, gripping your cup in your hands tightly and picking your umbrella (that now had an evident crease in one of its panels) up before running to class.

Your mom had called you halfway through the day while you were on your way to classes, the gesture enough to make you huff good-naturedly at her insistence.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey, is this a good time?” her tone was practically dripping with motherly concern, making you let out a breathy laugh, nodding even though she couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, It’s fine,” you told her, “but anyway, I think my umbrella’s broken. Some idiot at the café this morning practically destroyed it with their stupid combat boots.”

Your mom didn’t seem to pay much attention to your rant, cutting straight to the point that she’d called you for.

“Have you met Jisung yet?”

You sighed as you entered the auditorium for your next lecture, lowering your head slightly as you found a seat around the middle of the hall.

“No, not yet. I’m only going over to the house after my classes end, remember? But I heard my stuff already got moved there,” you explained to her, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you took your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table gently.

“Oh, do you want his phone number? To make things easier for the both of you,” she offered, earning a disinterested hum from you.


Your mom was more than excited about the fact that you would be 1. Not living in a residence within the school and 2. Living with the son of one of her friends from college. You figured your duty as her child now would be to appease her and at least try to live out her desires for you. Which in this case was sharing an apartment alone with some boy you didn’t even know. Maybe your mom was just a little more trusting than most.

You shrugged, “yeah, sure, just send it to me.”

Your mom let out a squeal, “I’m so excited for you to meet him, honey, he’s such a nice boy. You two are sure to get along. I’m so happy you agreed to this.”

Letting out a small sigh, you leant back in your seat as you held your phone with one hand, your other hand going to unlock your computer.

“I still feel like I’m imposing on them,” you hummed.

“Honey, it’s fine, Jisung’s parents insisted that you didn’t have to pay any rent.”

You hummed patronisingly, it wasn’t as if it was the first time she was telling you this, “yeah, uh-huh,” your attention was momentarily diverted by the tall boy that was standing next to you, gesturing to the empty seat with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, is there anyone sitting here?”

Your lips parted, “okay, mom I gotta go I’ll call you once I’ve settled into the apartment.”

You did a once-over of the boy, who shook his head to get his bangs away from his eyes, giving you a wide smile. Gesturing for him to go ahead and sit down, he’d flopped down onto the seat with a sigh.

Letting go of his bag strap as he turned around, he gave you an appreciative nod as he opened his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen.

“First day, huh,” his voice was deeper than you’d remembered it to be from just seconds ago, his hand coming up to cover his growing smile as a little giggle escaped him, “I’m Lucas.”

“How’d you know?” You hummed, “and my name’s Y/N.” You swore you’d never seen a boy with such sparkly eyes before in your life.

Lucas shrugged, leaning his folded arms on the desk and turning his head slightly to observe you in your confusion, one hand shifting to play with his earring, “haven’t seen you around before.”

“You talk like you know everyone in the school,” you scoffed.  

Lucas didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm, simply giving you a shrug, “possibly. And also because it’s my second time taking this stupid class so I should know an unfamiliar face when I see one,” he told you, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Your eyebrows raised, hearing the doors at the bottom of the auditorium open, a short stocky man walking through and making his way to the speaker’s desk.

“Second time? Why?” You hummed, keeping your gaze on the man in anticipation for what he was about to say.

Lucas cast a glare towards the professor, “I thought he was boring so I didn’t really go much for his lectures the last time, you know, because I thought they weren’t graded. But he decided to include them as passing criteria way too late.”

Lucas pointed at the professor, his sleeve riding up slightly to expose a tattoo at his wrist. You were starting to wonder if everyone at this place had tattoos, the sight seeming fairly common from just your few hours in the school.

You winced, nodding, already getting the sensing that this man was someone you needed to be on good terms with.

“Alright, class, enough talking. From now on, I’m the only one that should be talking so I expect nothing but your full attention from here onwards.”

This was going to be a long lecture.

===

Your mom had texted you the Jisung kid’s number, and you’d dropped him a text saying you were on your way to the apartment, getting a reply from him that he was on his way there as well. You figured he seemed pretty polite, from the way he texted you, so you guessed that helped in making you dread the whole arrangement less.

When you’d reached, you’d ended up at an apartment building that looked fairly plain, walking in to the lobby and scanning the sparsely decorated notice board for residents, the last thing put up being a picnic for families that was 3 months ago.

Stepping into the lift, you’d noticed that though it was relatively well-maintained, it seemed rather dull, from the prison-grey lights to how the mirrors were covered for maintenance. Thankfully, your apartment itself was relatively well-maintained (you remembered your mom telling you the apartment was previously being rented out by Jisung’s parents), aside from the space being a little not-so conducive. But well, they were letting you live here for free, so you couldn’t complain.

Setting your things down onto the sofa in the living room, you moved to examine the respective rooms, frowning when you realised that whoever Jisung was, he’d taken the room with the bigger bed, his clothes either already hung up on the clothing rack or stacked up on his bed.

Walking into what you assumed was your room now, you tried to envision how you could make this space more conducive. From moving the bed aside to switching the desk out to the living room for more light, you tried out different permutations in your head, your time as an amateur interior designer cut short when you heard the rustling of keys at the front door.

Smoothing your hair down to make sure it was neat, you’d dodged the boxes of stuff as you leant over the sofa, curious to see what this Jisung kid would look like.

Jisung had done the same outside the door, making sure his hair and clothes were somewhat presentable before pushing the door open. And immediately wanting to close it back.

“You’re Jisung?”

“You’re Y/N?”

The two of you spoke simultaneously, disbelief and shock written over your features as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Like you mentioned before, maybe if the boy at the café this morning wasn’t Jisung, you would’ve regretted your actions a lot less.

Jisung gave you a look of disbelief, stepping into the apartment and folding his arms across his chest, his bag still hanging from his shoulder. He couldn’t wrap his head around how unlucky he must have been to have had such a bad encounter with someone he was about to spend probably his entire college life living with.

He sighed deeply, “now I don’t feel like paying the rent on your behalf anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “your parents are paying the rent, not you. You have no say in it.”

Jisung made a sound of protest, shaking his head vigorously, his eyes widening in his aggravation.

“No, they aren’t. I told them to let me take care of it because I felt bad for them. But I don’t feel bad for you, so you’re gonna have to split the rent with me.”

Your lips parted, fumbling for a response.

Jisung’s expression was expectant, provoking you almost, “what? Would you rather get an apartment on your own? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to let my parents know.”

You wanted to cry. It was already the start of the school term so staying in the dorms was out of the question for you already, the deadline having closed long ago. And you knew that finding another apartment in the school district that was within your budget was going to be a pain in the ass. So as much as you hated to admit it, splitting the rent with Jisung was your best option. You needed to get a job asap.

You rolled your eyes, “well…well then why do you get the bigger room?” You huffed, mirroring his stance as you folded your arms across your chest.

Jisung gave you a mocking pout, “simple, ‘cause I got here first,” he brought his hand up, inspecting his nails.

“You should be glad I’m not charging you extra for inconveniencing me,” he added.

Not being able to help but let a small gasp leave you, you were quick to respond, “inconveniencing you? You were the one that got coffee all over my file.”

Jisung shrugged, “potato, potato. Doesn’t change the fact that you made me late for work.”

You clenched your jaw, watching with a glare as he strolled past you, gesturing to the space in the living room which you’d been planning on using as a work area, “I have dibs on this space.”

You frowned, mumbling, “I wanted to shift the desk in my room out here, though.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Wanna consider moving out now?”

You inhaled deeply, brushing past him to grab your luggage that contained your clothes.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you huffed in annoyance as you walked into your room, his laughter echoing behind you.

===

“How can you say that? Jisung is a very nice boy,” your mother cried, making you roll your eyes, glaring at your phone from where you were hanging your clothes up.

“He’s the idiot that I fought with at the café, it’s not like I’m saying this without reason.”

You heard your mom sigh deeply, conversing with your dad about something in the background, “try to put your attitude aside for once, please, I’m begging you.”

You groaned, kicking your luggage aside before you made your way over to your bed, flopping down next to your phone with a loud sigh, wincing at the feeling of the springs in your mattress. You were so sure Jisung’s bed was more comfortable.

“It’s not me that has the attitude, it’s him,” you mumbled, sulkiness evident in your tone.

“Enough, Y/N," she said sternly, "If I hear anymore complaints you’re really gonna be in for it.”

You kicked at your blanket, “fine, goodnight. Love you.”

You hung up, staring at your desk as you contemplated on whether to move it into the living room now or tomorrow, distracted from your thoughts when you could hear the water running, not to mention the awfully loud sound of Jisung singing in the shower.

How thin were the walls? Your glare had shifted to your door now.

“Can you keep it down?” You shouted, hearing a silence on his end momentarily. Heaving a sigh of relief, you turned around in your bed only to hear him resume his singing, except this time, you swore it got louder.

Burying your head under your pillow, you kicked at your blanket, hoping this was the worst it could get. It wasn’t that bad, right? You could deal with simple shower concerts. Maybe living with him wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought.

===

Safely to say, you should’ve thought otherwise.  

The very first time you realised you'd underestimated Han Jisung, was when you'd gone to the fridge to fix yourself something for dinner, only to find post-its on every single one of the items that read : 'property of han jisung! not for y/n'

You'd moved to look for something else to eat that was unlabelled, only realising then that he'd even gone to the (very petty) extent of labelling the snacks in the cupboard.  

Huffing, you'd shrugged your coat on, grabbed your wallet and made a trip to the grocery store.

Cursing him in your head as you shoved your items into your basket, earning yourself looks of scandal from the elders who were for whatever reason still in the grocery store, though you couldn’t be bothered to look more amiable. You’d wanted nothing more than to throw out Jisung’s groceries, but of course, you were a nice person, so you wouldn’t do that. It seemed like you just couldn't get a break when your phone had begun to buzz in your pocket.

"Hey, mom," you hummed, trying not to sound too tired lest she started to drill you about resting. You brought your groceries over to the self-checkout aisle, heaving them onto the small platform with a grunt.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

You huffed, "we didn't have enough food, so I went to buy some groceries." Biting back your tongue, you rolled your eyes, scanning your items and bagging them angrily.

"How's finding a job been?"

You shrugged, Lucas had told you about various job openings nearby your house, (surprising you with how much he knew about the area) one of them you were looking into was a simple job at a café near your apartment. Thankfully, not the one that you'd had your little ‘encounter’ with Jisung at.

"Pretty alright, nothing too difficult,” you hummed, fumbling to pull out your card so you could make your payment, ignoring the stares you were getting from the people queueing up behind you.

"Alright, that's good to hear."

"Everything alright with you and dad at home?" you asked, shoving your card back into your wallet before slinging the bags onto your forearms, beginning to walk out of the supermarket.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about us, we just miss you."

You sighed, something about the night air putting you in a drowsy mood, "me too. I never realised how much I liked living with you guys till now..."

"Don't tell me you're still having a hard time with Jisung," you heard her tone, your knew that this was her way of implying she didn't want to hear anything other than that you and Jisung's housemate experience was just peachy.

"Don't worry, mom, everything's... fine."

You'd tugged your coat closer to yourself, giving her whatever updates you figured she'd want to know before hanging up, enjoying the peaceful walk before you reached your apartment, figuring this was as much peace you were going to get before you returned to the apartment to be met with his stupid antics again.

And surely enough, the evening breeze accompanied with the sounds of faint conversation from the restaurants nearby had started to put you in a rather drowsy mood, making you start to contemplate if you were even still hungry, the lure of sleep starting to seem more tempting.

Reaching your apartment building, the lift lobby illuminated by a harshly bright lightbulb, you’d bumped into one of the ladies living on the same floor as you exited the lift on your floor, watching as her eyes widened in surprise, giving you a small smile as she enquired.

“Oh, are you the resident from apartment 19B?" you nodded.

If you were drowsy before, you sure weren't drowsy anymore.

You flinched slightly when her expression had changed in an instant, her once amiable expression now replaced with an annoyed glare.

"Can you please refrain from singing so loudly in the middle of the night? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Your eyebrows raised, shaking your head as you slot your keys into the keyhole, opening the door just a crack, "oh, sorry, that's not me that's my housemate—”

The middle-aged lady had narrowed her eyes at you, "you know, It's not ethical for someone as young as you to be living with a man when you're so young—”

"Okay, sorry, won't happen again!" you told her quickly in your attempt to appease her, shoving the door open and slamming it behind you, turning around only to see Jisung standing in the living room, dressed in loungewear with black gloves on his hands as he pointed at you in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Aw, I'm not the only one that thinks it's not ethical for you to live here," he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, "I can't believe she thought I was the one singing," you huffed, going over to the kitchen to see yet more dishes in the sink.

Pointing at them with a look of disbelief on your face, "are you not gonna clean these either?"

Jisung turned around, looking at the sink with evident contempt, shrugging. He held his hands up to you, showing you that they were currently gloved.

"I'm a little busy, why don't you do me a favour this once? Consider it compensation," he grinned, making his way back to....your room?

"What are you doing in my room?" you asked, shoving the last of your groceries haphazardly into the fridge before you'd followed him into your room, shutting your mouth quickly when you saw that he’d practically set up a work station next to your desk, looking closer to find that he was using what looked like tattoo equipment.

“Practicing,” he shrugged.

You didn’t bother asking what his business using tattoo equipment was, simply huffing in exasperation, “and you had to do it in my room, of all places?”

Jisung nodded, pushing one of his sleeves up on his shoulder, revealing a rather big tattoo on his arm that was partially hidden by his sleeve.

“This is the only room with an accessible plug and a good enough space to work in.”

“Then why didn’t you just take this room as your bedroom?” You were dumbfounded at the way he was so nonchalant about his actions, the buzzing of the tattoo needle resuming as he practised on fake skin.

“I like to sleep in a comfortable bed,” he shrugged, leaning back to look at his tattoo.

“And you think I don’t?” You shot back, your hands going to your hips, his reply coming just as quick.

“Well, for $300 bucks above the rent maybe you can,” he smirked, using a tissue to rub at the fake skin, looking at you as he poked his tongue in his cheek, quirking his eyebrows before turning back to continue tattooing.

That night, you remembered asking Lucas if he knew who Jisung was, since he’d mentioned how he was pretty into tattoos, having a few of his own, his reply only making you wonder if the world was just small or you were just unlucky.

lucas wong

8:53pm - oh yeah I know him! he’s apprentice-ing at the tattoo shop I usually go to, he’s pretty good-

8:53pm - why? do u like him? I cld put in a good word for u-

You sighed deeply

8:53pm - no thanks im good-

Little did you know, the next time Lucas had visited the the tattoo studio, he’d spotted Jisung working on his designs at one corner of the room, going against your request and disturbing Jisung even despite how he looked like that was the last thing he wanted, too focused on the shadings of his chrysanthemum flower sketch on his tablet to have paid attention to Lucas' entrance.

“Hey, do you know anyone named Y/N?”

Jisung’s face scrunched up in distaste, looking up at Lucas and hoping desperately that he was joking, “don’t tell me… freshman Y/N?”

Lucas nodded, his eyes lighting up in excitement, “yeah! So you guys do know each other.”

Jisung made an uncertain sound, “I wouldn’t call it much of a relationship. Y/N’s my housemate.”

Jisung’s words had sparked a realisation in Lucas, the latter only piecing together your disdain towards Jisung with your stories about your ‘asshole housemate’

Lucas’ silence had caught Jisung off guard, making Jisung look up at Lucas expectantly, “sorry, you wanted to go get something to eat, right?”

Lucas nodded, masking his shock with a smile, recovering quickly.

“Wait, lemme go call Chan,” Jisung murmured, beckoning the boy who was currently snacking at the reception area.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” Lucas asked, earning a hum from Chan.

“I kinda wanted to get a smoothie,” Chan admitted sheepishly, though thankfully, Jisung and Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem with that.


“Why didn’t you wanna go to the other café? They’ve got better smoothies,” Lucas wondered out loud, making Jisung snort.

“We’re only going there because Chan has a fat crush on one of the baristas.” 


Which was what ended them up at the café you worked at.

The moment they had entered, you noticed your colleague tense beside you, bending down to pretend to take something from below the counter. 


“Shit, they’re here. Oh my god, help,”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “who?”

“That cute tattoo artist guy I was telling you about!” She whispered harshly, standing up and greeting the boys with a smile, her heart eyes directed particularly at one of them with curly hair.

Only then did you realise Lucas and Jisung were there, receiving an overwhelming feeling of wanting to bang your head into the cash register. You already saw him enough at home, and now you had to see him at work too?

“Hi, how may I help you?” You smiled at the curly haired boy, casting a glare in Jisung’s direction, the boy looking equally as dismayed to see you here.

“Hello, can I get the berry smoothie?” He asked, and you stepped aside, letting your colleague ring up his order while you prepared his drink, giving it to your colleague to serve since she’d spent so long talking to him.

Lucas had mouthed a ‘sorry’ to you when he’d gone to sit at one of the tables with Chan, Jisung lingering at the cashier as your colleague went to the backroom to squeal.

“What do you want?” you wore a bored expression.

Jisung looked almost too focused, his eyes glaring at the laminated menu between the both of you.

“I changed my mind, I want a drink too.”

You suppressed your urge to roll your eyes, your finger scratching at the corner of the cash register, “you couldn’t have ordered it like five seconds ago?”

Jisung shot you a look, “yeah, well I didn’t want it five seconds ago.”

Inhaling deeply, you’d gestured to the menu, and now not only was your expression bored-to-death, but your tone was too, "what do you want?”

“I want an iced americano,” he told you, pausing before he added, “and ask your friend to make it. I don’t trust you not to spit in my drink.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “good call.”

Ringing up his order, you’d called your friend, dismissing any thought of ever having a normal encounter with Jisung.

Upon returning to his table, Chan had given him a look, "Lucas told me you know the cashier."

"Not the one you think is cute, don't worry,” Jisung sighed, glancing in his drink just for good measure.  

Chan's eyebrows lifted in amusement, "so the one you think is cute?"

Almost instinctually, Jisung replied, "yeah," paying more attention to his drink than his words. Looking up when he heard Chan and Lucas struggle to stifle their giggles.

"What?"

Lucas clapped his hands together, his smile wide, "you just said Y/N was cute."

"No, I didn't, you did." Jisung shot back quickly. It was obvious that retaliation didn't always have to make sense for him.

Chan had a curious glint in his eyes now, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smirk, "I mean, you guys do live together right, and you've really never thought anything about her?"

“I did, I thought her nagging was annoying as hell,” Jisung shrugged.


Chan narrowed his eyes at Jisung, an amused smirk on his face, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Jisung gave Chan a pointed look, "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't stir shit, especially not in front of him." Jisung pointed at Lucas.

"You didn't answer the question," Lucas sing-songed.

Jisung scoffed, casting a furtive glance towards your direction where you were smiling as your colleague showed you something on their phone.

Jisung shrugged, it wasn’t as if you looked bad or anything, with his pride, he’d probably have told Chan that you were pretty if he squinted.

“Guess if they smiled more they'd be...decent."


Lucas raised his eyebrows, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him very much, “decent, huh.”

Chan leant back in his seat, shaking his head at Jisung, "now I feel like I have to make you my apprentice for relationships too."

Jisung scoffed, regaining his usual confidence.

"If by that you mean you want me to stand at the counter giggling my ass off like how you did with that cashier then no thanks, I'm good on my own."

===

You'd tried your best to tolerate Jisung, especially after Lucas fed you some story about how he takes a while to warm up to people (which you totally bought).

This tolerance came in the form of things like waking up earlier to use the bathroom so the both of you wouldn't have to fight in the morning, or giving him reminders to do the laundry or clean the dishes but only doing them after he forgot the third reminder.

Jisung usually forgot to turn off the lights whenever he went to sleep (though sometimes he did it on purpose, not liking the eerie darkness of the house when the lights were off), so you would always end up waking from the glare of the lights that seeped into your room, stepping over the mess of clothes or socks (sometimes even shoes) in the walkways and turning them off for him instead of nagging him about the lights. See? Tolerance.

Call you a pushover or whatever, but you kind of prided yourself on how your well of patience seemed to run deep. Very deep. Deeper than the average human, you supposed, even.

However, days like the ones you were having now, just didn't seem to let you draw from that well of patience.

You'd started off your shitty morning when you'd slept through your alarm, needing your usual work clothes but realising that Jisung hadn't done the laundry, leaving you with no choice but to grab the nearest hoodie you could find on your bedroom floor and sprint to work.

If that wasn't enough, you'd landed cashier duty as punishment for being late, your social battery starting to empty not even halfway through the day. Your 'hi, how may I help you's slowly turning to 'what would you like's to eventually 'hi's and ending up with a small smile and gesture towards the menu.

It didn't help that Chan, the tattoo artist your colleague had an obvious thing for, had shown up halfway to try and strike a conversation with you about Jisung, much to no avail.

“Aren’t you wondering why Jisung isn’t here?” You remembered him asking, to which you’d shook your head.

“Not really,” you shrugged, earning a thoughtful hum from Chan.

“Really? You’re not even the slightest bit curious?”

You had shook your head at him then, remembering the way he looked so shocked to have made you even more curious about why he was asking you this in the first place.  

By the time you were done with your work, you'd wanted nothing more than to just go home, take the longest shower of your life and curl up in your horribly uncomfortable bed. Except you couldn't even do that, because you had unfinished readings for your class the next day.

You figured if you sat yourself at your desk with no distractions you could be done sooner and go to sleep sooner, but your one distraction had just come home from the tattoo studio and was somehow getting on your nerves even more today.

Not only had he been acting as if he was the opera community's 'next big thing', he'd proceeded to seat himself on the sofa behind you, watching whatever show he was into loudly, seeming to find whatever the protagonist was saying to be too hilarious to just enjoy the show silently.

You figured you could handle that much, you know, having to live up to your preachings on tolerance, deciding to breathe deeply and suppress your urge to tell him to shut up, and soon enough, he'd disappeared.

But your joy was short lived, once again, when Jisung came back out, singing as he made a snack for himself and proceeded to eat it right in front of you, the smell growing more and more distracting.

Now, he was now lounging on the sofa in the living room, headphones on and connected to his laptop that rest on his stomach, but still typing away with his phone not on silent, the keyboard sounds distracting you from your reading. You figured, maybe your well of patience was just closed today.

“Hey,” you called. No response. If anything, the silence of the apartment had made his typing sounds even louder.

“Hey, oh my god, can you like put your phone on silent or something?" You tried again. Still no response, now, he was humming in between his pauses before he would type another burst of words on his phone.

Deciding you had to take matters into your own hands, you stormed over to where he was, your book still in your hands as you stood in front of him, making him turn to you with wide-eyes.

Pulling his headphones off of his head, he frowned, "what?"

“This,” you gestured pointedly towards his phone, “put your phone on silent, it's distracting me."

Jisung would've complied, though a part of him couldn't help but be annoyed by your nagging, his instinct prompting him to act defensively, “why don’t you just listen to some music or something? Then my typing sounds wouldn’t be a problem,” he told you dismissively, making you groan in frustration.

“I can’t study with music, it’s already hard enough for me to focus as it is.”

Jisung was annoyed, “It’s just a typing sound, what are you getting so worked up for? You’re always getting on my back about everything when I’m just minding my own business."

You let out a groan, "look, it's been more than a month, and i'm up to here with your shit," you held a hand way above your head for emphasis, any of your tolerance long gone out of the window (which he had also left open, making the apartment chilly and noisy).

Jisung's eyebrows knit in a frown, your outburst coming as a shock to him, "fine, whatever. I'll put my phone on silent, chill."

You shook your head, your gaze firm and unwavering, "no, I wanna make rules."

Rules? Jisung wanted to scoff. What was this, a second-grade classroom?

Jisung stared at you in shock, nodding dumbly. "Rules....oka-alright, yeah. Let's make rules."

You nodded firmly, "first of all, if you're gonna make food at ungodly hours in the morning, eat it in your own room."

"And the dishes, clean up after yourself," you added, gripping your book tightly in your hand.

“Stop leaving your shit in the corridors,” you continued, “and pack up your shoes it’s such a mess at the door way I can barely walk into the house,” you huffed, feeling as though with every rule you made you were finally letting your feelings be heard.

Jisung wracked his brains for a rule of his own, finding ways to regain control over the situation, "well, I have a rule too! You gotta stop nagging me to do shit," he sat up, setting his headphones on the sofa cushion.

You let out a tiny gasp, "excuse me? I only ask you to ‘do shit’ that you should be doing."

Before you could get carried away, you continued, "and as for the laundry—”

Jisung perked up, “okay, how about this. I do the dishes and you do the laundry," he suggested with a forced smile, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, which fell back against his forehead gently.

"You know for a fact that that’s not the same, so we'll switch," you told him, "you do laundry on one week when I do the dishes, and the next week i'll do the laundry and you do the dishes. Fair, right?"

Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, "whatever."

At the mention of laundry, Jisung glanced over at what you were wearing, frowning at the familiarity of his hoodie.

"Good, now that we have an agree—”

"That's mine," he pointed at your stomach, making you look at him in disbelief.

"Huh?" Your stomach? Your hands found their way to cover your stomach.

"The hoodie. It's mine."

You looked down at the hoodie you were wearing, a frown evident on your face. You didn't know what he was talking about, you had this hoodie since you were in high-school, it couldn't be his.

"No, it's mine. I had this since I was in high-school," you frowned, unsure if this was some sort of joke he was trying to play.

Jisung couldn't hide his amusement, letting a laugh slip from his lips, "yeah, so did I... which is why I know that that's mine."

You scoffed, "it was on my bedroom floor," you mumbled, seeing him nod patronisingly.

"Because I left it there," he told you, enunciating his words slower, shocking you when he'd reached over and grabbed you by the sleeve, raising your hand up for you to see.

"Look, this stain. It's tattoo ink. I would know because you're wearing the wrong hoodie. New rule, don’t wear my clothes.”

You stood silent, huffing as you removed the hoodie, leaving you in your shirt and sweats, tossing the hoodie at him in annoyance, the smirk on his face making you even more annoyed.

"Fine, take your stupid hoodie, I don’t wanna wear your stupid clothes anyway,” you huffed, “and you’re on laundry duty this week."

You didn't finish your readings that night.

===

You would like to think your rule system was working pretty well, seeing as you didn't find yourself butting heads with Jisung as often as before.

Halfway into the semester, you had grown busier with your assignments, which had managed to take your attention away from Jisung.

Though you were certainly more tired than usual, from attending birthday parties of friends to working, to rushing your readings during any free time you got (not to mention squeezing in any bit of sleep whenever you could), to rushing through your assignments just to meet the packed deadlines. But you couldn’t complain, this was typical for any college student you knew.

But of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t itching for a break, eyeing the semester break on your calendar that was fast approaching, letting yourself get carried away during classes with Lucas as you both planned on your pieces of scrap paper all the things you’d wanted to do during the break.

Similarly, Jisung had grown busier at the tattoo studio, and Chan had recommended him to a music producer that was interested in hearing Jisung's compositions.

Jisung was more than thankful that Chan had given him that opportunity, of course, but what was bothering him was the pain-in-the-ass creative block he was beginning to struggle with.

Not only was he struggling to find inspiration for a song he'd wanted to make, but the process seemed almost painfully slow, with how he'd fumble around with ideas that he would start on but eventually scrap, deciding that he 'wasn't feeling it'.

He'd started receiving commissions for tattoo designs, and you'd noticed he wasn't at home as often as he was before because he'd made it a point to coop himself up in the studio to try to churn out these design requests.

Fortunately, his customers were always satisfied (and he thought that was great, you know, with all the good words from Chan he was getting), but he wasn't.

Chan had seemed to sense this too, making sure to check in on Jisung more than usual during this period.

"Hey, I'm heading home a little earlier today, you'll be fine alone?"

Jisung's head lifted when he heard Chan's voice, pulling one of his earbuds from his ear as he nodded.

Chan glanced at Jisung's papers scattered around him, of half-done or halfway-abandoned sketches, giving him a look of sympathy, "don't work too hard, alright?" he huffed, glancing out of the window.

"I heard it might rain tonight, so make sure you get home before the rain hits, alright?"

Jisung waved Chan off, not paying any care to the impending rain as he bid Chan goodbye, continuing to tap his pencil on the table in his search for good ideas.

Maybe he needed to consult a lifeline.

"Hello, Lucas?"

The said lifeline was more than happy to hear Jisung's voice, having heard from you that he wasn't home as much recently, a part of him concerned as well.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

Jisung hummed, "wanted to ask if you had any ideas on what tattoos you think would be cool."

Lucas snorted, "you're asking me? You could draw a turd and i'd want to get it tattooed. Dude, you're too good, just go with your gut."

Jisung let out a whine, "my gut's not being very useful right now."

Lucas hummed, letting out an urgent grunt of surprise, "I know! Why don't you take a look at your older designs, maybe they'd give you some vibes or something."

Jisung shrugged, figuring this was probably the best advice he was gonna get, thanking Lucas before hanging up.

Picking up his tablet, Jisung had scrolled through his various sketches until he'd reached the very first few designs, sighing at the sight of the sketches, looking at his first sketch of a peony flower, with leaves dangling along the stem wedged between the budding flowers.

Jisung figured he wouldn't let his dissatisfaction subside until he tried doing a better rendition of the sketch, to refine the shading or the flow of the shape from what he'd learnt from Chan overtime.

Putting back his earbuds in, he turned his music up, beginning to work on the sketch, riding on the motivation he was afraid would disappear at any given moment.

Jisung was surprised at how fast he was done, ( only to look at the clock and realise he wasn't that fast and that it was already a little past midnight ). Removing his earbuds and going back to the sound of the whirring air conditioner and the loud sound of rain thumping against the gravel outside, Jisung knew he was done for.

He hadn't brought an umbrella with him, and the rain frankly didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon, Jisung contemplated his very limited options.

Was a binder enough to shield him from the rain? Probably not. But was it better than putting down his pride to text you to come and pick him up? He thought the binder was better, honestly.

Deciding to try his luck anyway, he'd sent you a text.

Little did Jisung know, you'd dozed off on your bed while reading, the vibration of your phone next to your face having woken you from your nap, the sound of the rain outside harshly thumping against the window.

han jisung 12:37am -hello, housemate. it is your housemate, han jisung. its raining rly badly. wld u be so kind as to come to the tattoo studio with an umbrella for me pls :D-

You frowned in annoyance, your eyes barely open as you replied him. There was no way you were going to send yourself out in the thunderstorm like that.

12:37am - no. just wait until it stops raining-

Thinking that had settled your worries, you'd shoved your phone underneath your pillow, deciding you'd let yourself sleep in since tomorrow was a Saturday after all.

You should've known better, that this was Jisung, the 'i'm tougher than a little bit of rain' Jisung, so you should've seen it coming when you'd woken up to the sound of his incessantly ringing phone.

Rolling out of your bed with a grunt, you'd pushed yourself off of the bed, ready to confront Jisung about not answering his phone.

Walking across the corridor and pushing his bedroom door open, you'd been met with an empty room, frowning as you walked over to the bed, picking the phone up and stopping the alarm.

You noticed that he'd received a few texts from Chan, not being able to help yourself from reading them.

chan 1:20am - dude! why didnt u just wait for the rain to stop?- 1:22am - ��ure gna fall sick…-

Frowning, you made your way into the living room, spotting Jisung curled up on the sofa with his blanket at his feet, an instant feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

“Jisung?” You called, seeing his eyebrows furrow slightly.

In spite of yourself, you’d walked over to where he lay, your hand coming out to nudge at his shoulder with his phone.

“Hey, are you…alright?” You watched and waited as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking at you in a daze. There was perspiration beading at his temples despite the coolness of the apartment, giving you more reason to feel like there was something wrong.

As much as you didn’t like him, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were responsible for him, and it was kind of your fault that he’d walked back in the rain. You glanced at your brightly-coloured umbrella leaning against the wall, figuring there was something about this umbrella that always got you into trouble with Jisung.

You suppressed your hesitation, bringing a hand up to his forehead, Jisung not even daring to budge even an inch as you pushed his bangs back. The back of your hand pressing against his forehead gently, your breath hitching at the sheer heat of his body.

This was probably the most contact you’d ever had with him in your months of living together, and Jisung knew this too, not knowing how to feel about the concern you were showing him, feeling as though it was some kind of ridiculous fever dream.

“You walked home in the rain didn’t you?” You murmured, your feeling of guilt growing as you saw him nod at you.

You cursed inwardly, “do you have a thermometer?” 


Jisung shook his head, attempting to get up, “it’s fine, I can take care of myself, just give me my phone.”

You handed him his phone, ignoring his previous statement as you went into the kitchen in your search for any kind of medicine you could give him, cursing once again when you realised there was none. Trust the both of you to only care to buy groceries.

“We don’t have jack shit in this house,” you groaned, walking over to the bathroom, finding a cloth and a small pail to fill with cold water, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down next to the sofa.

“I’ve gotta go to work,” Jisung sighed, though he made no move to get up, a part of him just waiting for you to refute him so he could use you as an excuse to get off work.

You shot him a look, “no, you don’t. Shut up and lie down, I’ll go and buy your stupid medicine. If I come back and you’re not here I’ll kill you,” you warned, missing the way Jisung had complied happily, lying back down with his head on one of the sofa cushions.

Squeezing the water from the cloth, you may have slapped it a little harshly on his forehead, earning an annoyed glare from him.

Walking to grab your wallet, you cast one last look at his bored face, seeing him rush to close his eyes when he saw you glaring.

“I mean it, you better stay here.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off.

On your way to the pharmacy, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good thing that Jisung was sick.

In terms of your pros, if he was sick, he wouldn’t be able to annoy you, right? And him being sick meant that you’d basically had your desk and your bedroom to yourself, with him unable to practice tattooing in your room and use your desk as his sketching station.

In terms of your cons… well, you were planning on getting some rest today, and having to watch Jisung meant you would technically have to be near him, wouldn’t you? You were starting to wonder if that was even a con that he was basically giving you an excuse to laze around and watch tv.

“Hi, how may I help you?” The pharmacist asked.

You hummed, “uh…do you have those over-the-counter medicine and stuff for like someone with fever?”

The pharmacist nodded, pulling out the various boxes and pointing at each one, confusing you with the sheer amount of names she was listing, resulting in you just choosing the one you recognised your parents telling you to take whenever you were sick.

Making your payment, you swallowed whatever pride you had that was making you hesitate. You figured Jisung falling sick was karma for that text you sent him the night before, so you decided that you were going to see him recover for yourself.

Upon returning to the house, you’d shrugged your jacket off, making your way over to where he was, sitting on your heels next to where he was so you could gently peel the cloth from his head, replacing it with one that was soaked in colder water.

You’d drawn back slightly when you felt Jisung flinch as you laid the towel on his forehead, opening one eye to look at you, “that was fast.”

You rolled your eyes, shushing him as you took the medicine out, along with a glass of water you’d gotten from the kitchen, bringing it over to him with an expectant look.

Jisung took them from you wordlessly, swallowing them down as he averted his gaze from you, unsure why you were looking at him like some kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, reaching over to grab the television remote in an attempt to calm your nerves, “this is kind of my fault. Since I didn’t go over to the tattoo studio yesterday.”

Jisung took a moment to process what you said, wincing as he let out a (fake) cough, only serving to make you feel even more guilty than you already were.

“Are you actually…apologising to me?” Jisung’s smile was poorly hidden behind his hand, making you roll your eyes, your guilt ever-present when you looked at him.

Jisung sighed, deciding to let you off this once, “seriously, it’s no big deal. I didn’t expect you to come, anyway. I was just trying my luck,” he told you, making you frown, your mouth forming a slight pout.

“I was just being petty, I’m…” you trailed off, shaking your head, “yeah, whatever, I’m just really sorry.”

Jisung looked at you with a hint of a smile on his face, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was his fever, or the way your gestures were exuding warmth, but Jisung swore just for a moment. A second, almost, he kind of thought you looked cute.

Jisung nodded, “I’ll let you know by the end of the day.”

You frowned, turning away from the television to face him, your back resting on the sofa slightly, “let me know about what?”

Jisung kept his gaze fixed on the television, bringing his hand up to scratch at his collarbone, hints of his tattoos peeking out from his neckline.


Shrugging, Jisung’s gaze shifted to meet yours, “if your apology is accepted.”

You were sure that your mom would’ve just laughed in your face if you told her about your experience today, as you began to realise just how much you didn’t hate Jisung’s company when the both of you weren’t trying to fight each other.

In the few hours that had passed alone, you’d learnt much more about him than you had bothered to in your months living with him. You’d learnt that he was a music major, that wanted to pursue a career in music production, and that he’d gotten interested in tattoos when he’d met this kid named Changbin in his class, who introduced him to Chan for an apprenticeship.

As for Jisung? He was just learning that you weren’t as intolerable as he thought you were.

You’d ordered food for the both of you, Jisung having refused to eat porridge, and you were currently having an actual, comfortable conversation with him, the hallmark movie playing on the television long forgotten.

Jisung’s phone had started to ring, interrupting him mid-sentence as he told you about how the tattoo studio works, making you lean over to check who it was.

“It’s Chan.”

Jisung grimaced, “speak of the devil,” he scoffed. Shaking his head vigorously as you made to grab his phone, Jisung set his chopsticks down hurriedly to reach for his phone, only to grab air when you’d answered the call.

“Hello?” You heard Chan speak, an urgency to his tone.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Jisung is…not feeling so well right now.”

Jisung shot you a look, bringing his hands around his throat with his chopsticks held between his fingers, acting as if he was so sick he was about to pass out, making loud coughing noises in the background.

You couldn’t help but smile, scrunching your nose and waving him off in your attempt to get him to stop before he choked on his food.

Chan sighed, “Is he, now? Tell him I’m shifting today’s appointment to next Wednesday. Anyway, thanks, Y/N, bye,” he hung up promptly after.

You gave Jisung a grim look, setting the phone down slowly onto the coffee table, “Chan said he’s shifting your appointment to Wednesday.”

Jisung’s lips parted, almost forgetting his cheeks were full of food, tilting his head back to groan.

“Chan’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?”

Jisung shoved more food into his mouth, chewing slowly, “I totally forgot, I was supposed to do this girl’s tattoo today, but cause I’m, you know, sick,” he gave you a pointed look, “I can’t do it.”

“You do tattoos already? I thought you were still just…”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “what? Still just tattooing on fake skin?”

You nodded sheepishly, earning a sigh from him, though you didn’t miss the small smile on his face.

“I’ll have you know, I can tattoo people now. You know Lucas’ tattoo of the angel looking mermaid hybrid type thing?”

You hummed in thought, his description oddly specific yet successfully helping you visualise the tattoo, gesturing to your forearm, “the one he got here?”

Jisung nodded, “I did that for him.”

Your eyes widened, impressed at the scale of Jisung’s detail in his design, remembering how enamoured you were with it when Lucas had first showed it to you.

“Lucas’ been asking me to get a tattoo with him once the break starts,” you mentioned casually, earning a surprised hum from Jisung.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, as if he was still trying to process what you said, “really?”

You nodded, “still thinking about it, though. Haven’t really decided on what I wanted.”

Jisung scooped the last of his food into his mouth, giving you as nonchalant a shrug as he could muster.

“Well, uh, you know, if you want or something you could come one of the days during the break, I could show you some stuff I think you’d like.”

You nodded, the simple suggestion somehow exciting you.

That night, you’d gotten ready for bed, having made sure Jisung ate his medicine before he went to sleep.

Before you could move to switch the lights off, he’d stopped you/

“Wait, like…can you um… leave the lamp on?” You raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless, figuring this was your chance to repent while he was sick.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“Yeah, night…” he murmured, inhaling deeply, “oh, and Y/N?”

You frowned, “uh-huh?” Looking at him expectantly, your breath hitched at the sight of the small smile that made its way on his face, the moonlight casting a calm glow in the room that mirrored his expression.

“Apology accepted.”

You smiled, nodding before you left. Hopefully this meant things were looking up for your relationship.

===

After that day, it was as if something in your dynamic had shifted, you found that Jisung was giving you lesser and lesser reasons to be annoyed at him.

Lucas had gotten a kick out of it when you’d told him about it.

“You guys finally realised it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to each other?” You remembered him telling you.

You would beg to differ, though, because with this shift in dynamic came a whole lot of awkwardness, especially when one of you had done something mildly nice for the other person.

Take this instance, for example.

You’d been sitting at your desk, trying to finish up on your essay that was due that week, not wanting to let your motivation subside without making full use of it (also because you knew if you didn’t do it now, you’d procrastinate and stress out when you realised you were behind time).

You’d been able to faintly smell Jisung’s noodles that he was cooking in the kitchen, making you sigh. You didn’t like eating things after you had your dinner, but you couldn’t lie and say that they didn’t smell great.

Expecting to hear his bedroom door shut and feel the smell of the noodles get fainter, he’d surprised you when he made his way over to you, setting a mug containing a hot drink on your desk.

Turning to him abruptly, he’d flinched back, looking at you with wide eyes as his hands flew up over his chest, making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna hit you, calm down.”

Jisung relaxed (albeit hesitantly), one of his hands coming up to grip the back of his neck, gesturing towards the mug with his other hand.

“Go ahead, I uh…didn’t poison it or anything,” a huff of awkward laughter left him.

You glanced from the mug to him, nodding slowly, “thanks.”

“Don’t, you know…sleep too late, and stuff,” he told you, earning a nod from you.

He nodded back at you, giving you a close-lipped smile before practically jogging back to his room, the door shutting a little louder than usual, a yelp of apology echoing after.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to to be nice to him either, but frankly, he wasn’t giving you many opportunities to do so.


Jisung was still keeping his worries to himself, with his creative block seeming to have spiralled him into heavy feelings of anxiousness and a lack of confidence in his abilities.

You figured that things had been weighing heavy on his mind when you realised he’d been intentionally keeping the light on more often when he slept, or how the typing sounds of his keyboard would get more frequent as it got later into the night.

You’d even had Chan pleading for you to check up on Jisung every now and then once you noticed that he’d been sleeping a lot more and eating at irregular intervals. Listening out for his humming every now and then, you noticed the melodies seemed to have taken a more slow-paced, almost melancholic turn.

One night, you’d decided that if Jisung wasn’t going to give you opportunities to be nice to him, you would just create them for yourself. Making a determined trip to the kitchen, you’d boiled his favourite type of instant ramen, having seen how he made it so many times you knew just what to add in.

Padding over to his room, you’d knocked on the door before pushing it open slightly, watching him straighten up where he sat on his bed, setting his iPad down beside him, his thigh blocking it from your view.

“Hey, I uh…here,” you cut to the chase, Jisung was quick to find something to put under the pot on his bed, opening it and looking at you wordlessly.

“Figured the both of us could use a break,” you shrugged, oblivious to the way your words had stirred something within Jisung.

“What were you working on?” You asked, scooping some noodles into a bowl for Jisung and handing it to him.

He’d taken the bowl from you absently, his eyes widening at the mention of the sketch, unconsciously pushing it further behind him.

“Nothing, I was just doodling.”

Jisung had no idea how to explain that he had been trying to design something for you, something that reminded him of you. Because frankly, that was the only thing that seemed to be pushing his creative block aside at the moment.

“Can I see?”

Usually, Jisung would’ve fought you ( to the death ) before he’d let you see his unfinished designs, but there was something about your demeanour that made him feel like it was okay to show you. That it was okay to tell you that it wasn’t perfect because something inside of him just told him that you would understand.

In spite of any rational fibre in his being, he’d picked up the tablet, giving it to you as he continued to eat the ramen, his gaze never leaving your expression, oblivious to your scrolling as he was too busy gauging your reaction.

“These are all really pretty,” you told him, scrolling until you’d reached the bottom, clicking on one of the drawings and flipping the screen around to show Jisung.

“I love this,” you told him, earning a surprised hum from him.

He saw that you’d clicked on the sketch of the peony that he’d tried to refine that day he got rained on, wondering what made you choose that out of all his designs, since he was probably the least satisfied with that one.

“Are you sure? What about this one?” He took the tablet from you, scrolling back to the design he was working on, making you hum thoughtfully, eventually shaking your head no.

“I like the other one better,” you told him, earning a confused hum from him.

“Why?”

You scoffed, frowning at him, “why are you so against it? You’re the one that drew it,” you took the tablet back from him, holding it against your shoulder before shaking your head, setting it back down onto your lap.

“Besides,” you murmured, zooming in to admire the shading on the flower, “I think it’s beautiful.”

Jisung’s expression was unreadable, unsure how you had such strong appreciation for something he thought was his worst work, something about the way you praised it making a strange feeling that he couldn’t place build within his chest.

It was like before, the feeling of comfort, that he didn’t have to worry about any kind of creative block that could be thrown his way because you gave him a different perspective on his abilities.

You know, the cliché, hard-hitting feeling that ‘everything is gonna be okay’.

“Do you have anything happening during the break?” You asked, earning a shrug from him.

“I’ve gotta submit my song to Chan’s music producer friend.”

You perked up at the mention of Jisung’s song, “have you thought of what you wanted to do for it yet?”

Jisung shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, “it’s been kind of stressing me out, to be honest,” he admitted.

“I like…I don’t wanna give him something that doesn’t show what I’m capable of, you know?”

You nodded, “I understand…I wish I could help you but I don’t really, you know, know how,” you fidgeted with your fingers, hearing him grunt in dismissal.

“It’s fine,” he mustered a confident smile, “nothing I can’t handle.”

And for a moment, you really would’ve believed that he’d gotten it handled. Leaving him to continue with his work as you got ready for bed.

You had almost anticipated to hear typing sounds as you did every night these days. But unlike the other nights, Jisung didn’t very well feel like being alone with his thoughts that night, not even wanting to type them down. He craved the feeling of being okay, of feeling like he still had time and didn’t have to be anxious or feel shitty about his mediocre work.

So it had come as a surprise to you when you’d heard the gentle knock at your door that night just as you were about to drift into a half-asleep state, hearing the door open and watching as Jisung made his way hesitantly over to where you were.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You heard him let out a shaky breath, and you didn’t need to ask him further, giving him a small hum of approval as he’d pulled the small heated mat from under your bed and made himself comfortable next to your bed.

Jisung let his head hit the ground gently, a deep sigh leaving him as he closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to leave the lamp on?” You mumbled, hearing him hum.

“No, it’s fine,” he told you, strangely not feeling much of a need for it now that he had you near him.

The both of you knew better than to speak more, the silence seeming to have made you understand how he was feeling. And as he lay there, with your presence in the room, Jisung felt alright, and so did you.

That night, there were no typing sounds.  

===

Contrary to yesterday, you'd started today on a good note. Having bumped into Jisung the next morning after he'd gotten ready, meeting in the hallway when you were still dressed in your sleepwear, you couldn't help but smile.

"Morning," he murmured, a small smile on his face as he gave you a little wave, leaving promptly to meet Chan at the tattoo studio.

You didn't have work today, and you'd arranged a meeting with Lucas to hang out, the boy not seeming to want to waste anymore time when he'd finally arrived at the mall, practically bounding over to where you were waiting at the fountain in the atrium.

"So, have you thought about it yet?" he asked you, extending a hand to help you up.

Frowning, your lips parted in confusion, "thought about what?"

Lucas gave you an unamused look, as if you should've known what he was talking about. Pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, he'd raised his hands as he gestured, "you know, about what tattoo you wanted to get."

You made your way to a bubble tea outlet that Lucas wanted to check out, pestering you to go with him as part of the things he’d wanted to do during the semester break.

You couldn't help but laugh at the realisation, feeling awfully giddy at the thought of yesterday.

It was just a simple interaction, yeah, whatever, but no one said there were rules on what could make your heart flutter and what couldn't. All you knew was that whatever happened yesterday, did.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, huffing with a smile on your face.

Lucas didn't know whether to feel afraid or happy that you were so quick to decide this time, looking at you in concern, "okay...so, what did you decide on?"

You pursed your lips, your smile disappearing, "I don't have a picture with me, it's on Jisung's ipad. But it's really pretty, it's like this drawing of a flower," you explained.

Lucas' eyes widened, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in a poor attempt to conceal his growing excitement.

"Oh, it's one of Jisung's stuff?"

You nodded, not seeming to understand why he was so happy about that, "what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "you and Jisung seem to be on pretty good terms recently, huh.”

You scoffed, shrugging because it wasn't as if what he said was a lie.

Lucas leaned closer to you, "have you been smiling at him more these days?"

You frowned at his question, shrugging at him nonetheless, turning your attention back to the menu board, "yeah, I guess."

Lucas' giggles escaped him like bubbles, nodding at you knowingly, “perfect. You should definitely keep doing that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “questionable advice, but I’ll take it. Anyway, when are you planning on getting it done?"

Lucas straightened up, lifting his phone slightly to check the date.

"I made an appointment for Chan to do mine next Tuesday," he told you, “have you asked your parents yet?”

You nodded, “they weren’t as supportive until they found out Jisung designed it, they just told me not to get anything I’ll regret.”

Lucas couldn’t miss his opportunity to tease you, “well, I’m sure if Jisung’s doing it, the last thing you’d do is regret it.”

Shoving him aside and ignoring the way he’d burst into a fit of giggles, you ordered your drink, and Lucas’ as well once he calmed down enough to point at what he wanted on the menu.

“Maybe you should text him and ask about when you can book him?” Lucas gestured to you with his drink, his leg bouncing absently as he looked around the small outlet, the group of high-school girls in their uniforms sitting next to your table giggling as he’d skimmed over their table.

“Do you think that’d be too much? Should I just ask Chan instead?” You glanced at him for a sign of approval, “but then if I ask Chan would it make Jisung think I don’t want him to do my tattoo?” You wondered out loud, your stream of thought proving to be fairly amusing to Lucas.

“Just text him, it’s not that deep,” Lucas sipped on his drink.

“Nah, you know what? I should just ask him later at home, I shouldn’t bother him when he’s at work,” you shrugged, earning a sound of dismissal from him.

“Texting him would be a lot faster, you know.”

You shot him a look, “why are you so insistent on me texting him?”

Lucas scoffed, “why are you so against it?” He shot back.

Giving him a look of feigned annoyance, you’d set your phone down onto the table, staring blankly as Lucas had turned it to face him, unlocking your phone and going to Jisung’s chat.

“How should I start? ‘hey baby’—”

Your eyes widened, about to snatch the phone back from him when he’d pulled it towards himself in time, shooting you a look of feigned confusion.

“What? Too mild?” He laughed.

Sighing as he calmed down from his laughter, he shook his head slowly as he typed out a message, “man, you’re so bad at this,” he murmured.

“What makes you say that?”

Lucas pressed something on your phone with finality, scrolling up as he showed you your previous texts with Jisung. Texts like:

1:09pm - dont eat my chips get ur own - or texts like


10:11pm - keep it down! Im trying to study -

Jisung 10:11pm -well so am I!-

“All you guys ever text each other for is to ask each other to do things, how can you expect him to like you if you’re always telling him to separate his lights and darks?”

You took the phone back from Lucas with a huff, “leave me alone. And who said anything about wanting him to like me?”

Lucas looked as though you’d just asked him an obvious question, looking almost scandalised at your denial, “really? You went from ‘oh, I don’t wanna bother Jisung at work’ and ‘oh, heehee me and Jisung ate ramen together yesterday night’ to ‘who said anything about my big fat crush on Jisung’?”

You huffed, “that’s inaccurate.”

Lucas chewed on his tapioca pearls harshly, making sure you heard the smacking sounds of his chewing to unnerve you, shaking his head at you matter-of-factly, “it’s pretty much-what’s the word, ah! Verbatim. That.”


You rolled your eyes at him, wondering how the high-school girls sitting next to you still managed to find Lucas an absolute dreamboat despite how intentionally ridiculously he was behaving.

The truth is, Jisung wouldn’t have cared if you’d ‘bothered him during work or not’. He probably would’ve jumped at the notification of your text.

After the night before, Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of comfort that flooded him at the thought of you. Finally getting enough inspiration to work on his song when he’d gotten home, even despite the pounding in his head and the sheer fatigue from the day that had passed.

Call him whatever you wanted, but Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling of reassurance he got with you, and it was a feeling he never thought he’d be experiencing as deeply as he did now.

From how familiar it was to hear your voice (even if it was asking him to fold the laundry), to how the smell of your perfume would awaken him on certain days, just in time for him to start his routine for the day. In small things, like how whenever he was looking for a break from work, somehow he’d find it with you.

He’d been working on his song for hours now, though he’d kept letting his gaze wander to the door in anticipation, wondering what was taking you so long to get home. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still with Lucas, his imagination running wild with all sorts of scenarios that could have taken place to warrant you coming home so late.

Jisung brushed the thought away quickly after he found himself going to your contact on his phone, setting it down quickly as if it burned him. It was fine, you were an adult (he figured), you didn’t need him to hound you about a curfew.

Deciding to work on his lyrics for the song, he’d typed away on his laptop his ideas, his mind seeming to always gravitate to thinking of you as he read what he’d typed down.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d gotten done for that day, Jisung had let his head lean back against the armrest of the sofa, his legs bent as he lay on his side, letting his eyes rest from all that staring at his glaringly bright computer screen.

You’d gone for a late-night movie with Lucas to end off your day, having gone home later than usual, though you didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if you had a curfew anymore.

You managed to reach your apartment as stealthily as you could, since the walls were really that thin and you didn’t want the old lady from next door to get on your back for being noisy when she was trying to sleep or whatever again.

Shoving your keys into the keyhole, you frowned when you saw that the lights in the living room were still switched on, spotting Jisung lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, his head lolling to the side as he dozed off.

Going into your room (in stealth mode, again), you’d set your things down quietly, deciding to take a shower and get ready for bed before anything else. Suddenly everything seemed to be a thousand times louder than you were used to. You were sure Jisung hadn’t been getting much quality sleep recently, so seeing him dozing off on the sofa had only made you want to ensure that his sleep continued uninterrupted.

Once you were changed into your sleepwear, you’d gone into Jisung’s room, taking a soft blanket from his cupboard and bringing it over to where he was, draping it over him till it reached his shoulders. You couldn’t help but find how peaceful he looked to be rather endearing, wishing you could do more but knowing there wasn’t much else you could do.

Jisung considered himself a good actor, because on the inside he was far from peaceful. He’d awoken at the feeling of being covered by the blanket, the back of your fingers grazing against his arm slightly.

His heart had fluttered, extremely, at the gesture, though something in him was yelling at him not to open his eyes, wanting to savour the moment for himself. It felt warm, a comfortable kind of warmth, the kind you would want to bask in for hours after being in the cold for so long. Something like a ray of sunshine.

Jisung was convinced he was going mad.

Switching on the lamp at your desk so that the living room wouldn’t be in complete darkness, you’d switched off the lights in the living room, bidding a silent goodnight to Jisung in your head before you’d gone back to your room, leaving Jisung dumbfounded.

===

“What did you say the song was called, again?” Chan had asked Jisung on Tuesday morning, looking at him with an endeared smile.

Jisung felt shy for some reason, pressing his lips together firmly as he averted his gaze from Chan, preparing his equipment as he waited for you and Lucas to arrive.

“Sunshine,” Jisung told him.

Chan huffed, his smile growing bigger, “I like that,” he hummed.

“What’s it about?” Chan asked, pulling his phone out to check for a text, “also, Lucas says they’re nearby.”

Jisung shrugged, “what’s it about?” He echoed Chan’s question, as if not knowing for himself either, something about him seeming fairly preoccupied, “it’s kind of hard to explain.”

Chan nodded in understanding, glancing at the way Jisung fiddled with the practice sketch he’d done of Y/N’s tattoo, twirling it around in his hands and anxiously glancing towards the door.

“Nervous?”

Jisung’s head shot up to look at Chan with wide eyes, “huh?…” he nodded slowly, “yeah, kind of.”

A small smile played at Chan’s lips as the boy had finished up the stencil for Lucas’ tattoo. “Is it because it’s Y/N?”

Jisung let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, duh,” he mumbled, “I mean, yeah, I’m nervous because she’s the one getting the tattoo but more like…”

Jisung shrugged, “I still don’t understand why she chose this out of all the designs I had.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, the jingling of the bells at the door followed by a loud guffaw of laughter signalling to him that the both of you had arrived.

“You should take more pride in your work,” Chan pat Jisung on the back, almost sending the boy stumbling with the sheer force behind the hit. Though Jisung couldn’t very well pay attention to the pain in his shoulder once he saw you with Lucas.

Lucas was quick to shove you towards Jisung, going over to one of the beds with Chan as they discussed the placement of the tattoo.

Jisung was almost uncharacteristically tense, leading you over to the station across from Lucas and Chan, holding the stencil up for you to see, “you’re absolutely sure you want this?”

You rolled your eyes, nodding, “yes, I’m sure.”

Jisung nodded slowly, albeit hesitantly, at you, “have you figured out where you want it?”

Lucas had perked up at that, butting into the conversation despite being across the room, “we were thinking between two places.”

Jisung hummed as he’d gone over to take the tablet containing a form for you to fill out before he got started.

You shushed Lucas quickly, accepting the tablet from Jisung with a nod of thanks, “yeah, I was thinking between here,” you gestured under your collarbone, “or here,” you gestured to your shoulder, just above your shoulder-blade.

Jisung nodded, “which do you feel more comfortable with? I think both are alright.”

“I was thinking maybe here?” You held a hand over the space under your collarbone, earning a nod from him.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking the tablet from you once you were done and quietly gesturing for you to lie down.

In your haste to get it over with, you’d almost completely forgotten about the placement of your tattoo, Jisung quirking an eyebrow at you and letting a huff of nervousness escape him.

“Sorry uh, I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured, pulling the collar of your shirt down to expose the area you’d wanted tattooed, making Lucas (who was watching intently) snicker from where he sat.

You’d felt heat creeping up to your neck, making you stretch your neck to look elsewhere, deciding to focus on the black pipes lining the ceiling, your shyness reducing your voice to a mere mumble, “yeah, sorry.”

Your nerves had built up even more with how tense Jisung was, even as he had disinfected the area and transferred what looked like a blue-ish outline of his sketch to your skin, making you almost want to writhe in your place with how nervous you were growing.

However, once you’d heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, it was as if you were transported into your room, the familiarity of the sound making you less nervous, simply anticipating the pain that you’d associated with the tattoo to occur.

It was a wonder you hadn’t even been able to think much about the pain of the tattoo, though, because you were too busy trying to ignore Jisung’s proximity to you.

He was a stark contrast from Chan, who was making conversation with Lucas throughout the process, whereas Jisung had simply loomed over you, a tense knit to his brow and his lips pressed tightly together. Just by your expressions alone, people would have thought he was the one getting the tattoo.

This was only so because Jisung was struggling, with the smell of your perfume making him feel more awake than ever, and not to mention the pressure to make sure the tattoo turned out well that weighed heavy on him. Everything about you was so familiar, yet everything about the experience was not, and it was driving Jisung crazy with the amount of tension it was making him feel.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gauging your face for any sign that you were in too much pain.

You wanted to laugh, “This is like the fifth time you’re asking me that,” you told him.

“Can’t help it,” he told you, and you swore you saw his cheeks start to tint pink, “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know…since it’s your first tattoo, and all.”

You nodded reassuringly, “it’s fine, just keep going.”

Jisung nodded, “I’ll be done quicker than you know it, I swear.”

You continued to distract yourself with the sight of Lucas across the room, Chan having to bring the needle back whenever Lucas couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m sorry, It tickles,” you heard him tell Chan, making you have to stifle your laughter.

“Can I ask you something?” You decided that maybe talking to Jisung would help time pass faster (and less awkwardly).

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, shifting his chair slightly to get into a more comfortable position.

“How many tattoos do you have?” You asked, earning a long, reflective hum from him.

“I got a few in the time after college started, I would say about 5 or 6 now?” He shrugged, “and if you’re gonna ask me what’s their meanings…I don’t really know how to explain it, I just like the feeling they give me when I look at them.”

“I get it, it’s expression after all.”

Jisung nodded, his focus returning and making him let the conversation still. You didn’t like that, the feeling of awkwardness that returned with his silence, making you wrack your brains to find any sort of other conversation topic you could think of.

“Are you seeing anyone?” You wanted to instantly hide your face once you heard the words leave your mouth, Lucas turning to you with a wide-eyed expression.

Jisung sputtered, pulling the tattoo gun away from your skin, shaking his head at you.

“Uh, no, I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to regain his confidence in the situation, “why’d you wanna know?”

Now it was your turn to flush, averting your gaze, “oh, you know, just…curious, is all.”

Jisung smirked, “well, don’t go getting any ideas. I already like someone,” he told you, feeling as though he was dangling a carrot right in front of you.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, “really? Who?”

Jisung shrugged, “it’s a secret.”

You frowned, wanting to get back at him but not quite knowing how, deciding to go with the first thing you could think of, “well, I like someone too, you’re not special.”

Jisung hadn’t expected you to retort with that, narrowing his eyes at you, “wait, really? Is it Lucas?”

“Oh my god, no way, never.”

“Then who is it?” He met your gaze, making you stick your tongue out at him, mustering your best impersonation of him.

“It’s a secret.”

You had almost thought you were imagining things, but you noticed Jisung’s mood take a turn from there, seeming awfully pensive as he did the rest of your tattoo, the both of you having maintained a silence after your failed attempt at a proper conversation with him. He’d already begun to do the shading for your tattoo, so you figured he was really going to be done quicker than you thought.

You tried to distract yourself by glancing towards Lucas and Chan’s direction. Jisung could see you staring in their direction from the corner of his eye, wondering why your gaze kept travelling there when he was right in front of you.

“Is it Chan?” He blurted out, making your eyes go wide in shock.

Your smile grew, shaking your head, “no, definitely not.”

Jisung frowned, “who could it even be, you don’t even know that many people,” he huffed.

You sighed, trust you to fall for someone as oblivious as him.

“Do you want a clue?” You asked, earning a grunt from him.

“They’re very oblivious.”

Jisung frowned, looking as though he were contemplating, his tissue going over your tattoo slower as he thought. His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation, a gasp leaving him.

“No way, it’s not that Felix kid from your department, is it?” He looked as though he was hoping you would say no.

You fought to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, yet not realising you were smiling at him, “no, it’s not him.”

Jisung sighed, “oh, good. I know I always say I’m the best looking but he’s a lot better looking than I am, don’t tell him I said that.”

“Good?” You questioned, wondering why he seemed so relieved that all his options had turned out to be false. Jisung had realised he may have made things a little too obvious, shaking his head vigorously.

“Nothing, you’re all done, forget I said anything.”

He pushed himself away from you, his chair swivelling far back as he tried to calm the racing of his heart as you sat up and stretched, your body tired from being in the same position for so long.

“What time is it?” You asked, earning a grunt from Jisung, not knowing either.

Chan had chimed in from the other side, having been done with Lucas’ tattoo way before yours.

“It’s 4:24,” he told you. Jisung had been busy putting an adhesive bandage over your tattoo to pay attention to your reaction.

You spent 4 hours lying there and you only got like what, two conversations with Jisung? This was a new low, even for you.


You were snapped out of your disappointment when Jisung had spoken.

“Uh… yeah keep this on for like three to four days?” He gestured to the bandage, your breath hitching as he hiked the collar of your shirt up so it wasn’t still dropping off your shoulder.

“You can still shower and everything so yeah…” he told you, reciting from memory after having been told this a thousand times by Chan.

You tried your best to pay attention, though you knew you’d probably forget by the time you were home, making him stand up mid-speech and walk over to the counter, pulling out a little brochure to hand you.

“Honestly, just read this, it has everything you need to know inside,” he told you, walking away briskly to compose himself at his station.

You’d made your payment to Chan at the counter, Jisung having pretended to be busy with cleaning up, making Chan flash you an amused smile.

“What?”

He shook his head, dimples appearing as he gave you your receipt, “You two are just too cute,” he huffed, earning a loud hum of approval from Lucas.

“Aren’t they?” The tall boy chimed in, making you scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bye,” you waved, seeing Jisung turn around to give you a wide smile before turning back around, practically collapsing onto the bed once you and Lucas were gone.

“Those were the most excruciating 4 hours of my life.”

Chan’s laughter could be heard as he made his way over to Jisung, giving him a pat on the back, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Jisung let out a loud groan, “we were like this close!” Jisung brought his hand in front of his face for emphasis as he whined to Chan, “and I couldn’t focus at all I was so scared I was gonna screw up her tattoo because I kept zoning out,” he rambled, feeling as though his knees were about to buckle.

Chan shook his head with a feigned look of sympathy, looking at Jisung as though Jisung were his son, “I’m glad you’re feeling stressed.”

Jisung scoffed, shrugging Chan’s hand off of his shoulder and  glaring at his mentor with a look of disbelief, “you’re glad? Aren’t you supposed to be feeling some sympathy for me? That’s sick, I can’t believe you.”

Chan wasn’t surprised at Jisung’s dramatic reaction, simply laughing as he shrugged.

“I’m glad because if you’re stressed, you’re gonna be pushed to do something about it soon. And then I can stop hearing you stress about it and just see the both of you together, instead.”

Jisung shot Chan a dirty look, “you’re mean, old man.”

Chan scoffed, “at least I’m not stupid in love.”

===

Jisung had been keeping himself fairly busy since then, the both of you having been busy with your own plans since the semester break had started. However, the both of you had somehow managed to enjoy suppers together, bonding over a (rather unhealthy) meal of snacks or instant food whenever it was late in the night and the both of you didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

And speaking of sleep, you’d also noticed how Jisung had started to look brighter these days, seeming to have been overcoming that period of lethargy he was previously in.

Now, the brightness was heard in the songs he hummed, in how he smiled and laughed more whenever you were together. Even in how he'd started growing more comfortable with sleeping in the dark. You weren’t sure what exactly sparked this change in him, but whatever it was, you were glad it happened, yourself seeming to be all the more enamoured with this version of Jisung that had grown on you.

You’d planned with Jisung to have a day of celebration (or a pity party) once he’d submitted his song to Chan’s music producer friend.

Since you had work that day, you’d wanted to get up early to prepare breakfast for him, but you didn’t realise how late you were until you woke up and found that he had already left.

Making your way over to the kitchen to find some food for yourself after you’d gotten ready for work, you yanked open the door for the fridge, expecting to be met with all of Jisung’s snacks and cans of drinks that still had their post-its on them.

However, as you were scanning the fridge to see if you had anything you could eat, you spotted a different coloured post-it on a bundle of juice packets, peeling the post-it off of the packaging to inspect it.

‘y/n, I heard these are great to start the morning with, try them for me?’

You couldn’t help but smile, a hand coming up to your face to attempt to slap away the heat you felt in your cheeks, pulling out a packet of juice anyway.

You were starting to think the juice did have some sort of magical properties in them, because when you got to work, you’d been on drink duty, which was your favourite to do. Well, technically, anything other than cashier duty was your favourite but who’s keeping track here?

You knew Jisung's meeting with the producer was around the afternoon, so when Chan had shown up at the café alone, you didn't question it.

Now you were really glad you weren't on cashier duty today, giving your colleague more time to talk to Chan while he ordered.

"One strawberry smoothie for Chan?" you called to get his attention, seeing him stroll over to the pick-up point with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, Jisung's not here," he teased, sighing wistfully.

You scoffed, "yeah, yeah. I know where he is.”

“How’s the tattoo healing?” He asked, making your hand go up to your shoulder unconsciously, “It’s alright, looks really pretty now that it’s all healed.”

Chan gave you a thumbs up, opening the lid of his drink as he took a sip, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Is he meeting your friend now?"

Chan’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “who?..oh,” he nodded in realisation, “yeah, just went to meet him. Honestly, if you asked me, he didn’t seem as excited about the meeting as he was to meet you for dinner.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “don’t put ideas into my head, old man.”

Chan simply gave you a shrug, “I’m not that old, you know,” he brought his drink up to his lips to take a sip, “and they’re only ideas if you’re in denial.”

You groaned, “go, begone, leave me alone.”

Chan giggled, nodding as his hand went up in surrender, “fine, I’m going. Have a good dinner later, Y/N,” he sing-songed.

Curse Chan for putting the thought into your head, now you couldn’t stop thinking about dinner.

Your shift only ended at 5:30, so that gave you just about enough time to go get groceries while Jisung prepared the things for your hotpot at home.

Deciding you would do what you were called to do, which in this case, meant to send Jisung a text wishing him the best of luck, you did as such.

2:31pm - hey, all the best for your meeting with the producer man!!-

Jisung’s reply had come quickly,

han jisung 2:32pm - thanks :( im waiting to see him now, I didn’t know there was gonna be a whole queue -

Setting your phone aside, you’d tried not to let yourself get too anxious while you waited for him to update you, busying yourself with washing dishes and even serving tables out of your sheer boredom due to the crowd starting to disperse at this time.

You waited, and you waited, you waited until the word ‘waiting’ itself felt weird to say in your head. You should’ve known better to have expected Jisung to update you over text, only receiving a text in the evening that read

han jisung 5:23pm - hey…i just finished meeting him…see u at the apartment?-

You’d texted him back, not knowing what to make of his text.

5:23pm - is that a good hey or a bad hey? -

Jisung hadn’t answered your question, his next text coming as more of a source of confusion for you.

han jisung 5:24pm - ill tell u in person -

“What happened? Is it Jisung?” Your colleague seemed to have sensed your inner turmoil, looking at you with concern etched in her features.

“Yeah, he told me he was done meeting the producer person…but he didn’t wanna tell me how it went,” you frowned, seeing your colleague hum in confusion.

“D’you think it didn’t go well?” She asked, mirroring your expression of uncertainty.

You typed out your reply to Jisung as you shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m hoping he’s just messing with me.”

5:26pm - my shift ends in like 4 minutes… I’ll go and get the groceries before I get back -

han jisung 5:26pm - okay, ill be waiting -

“All the best, then?” Your co-worker offered, giving you a look of sympathy.

“You too, enjoy the rest of your shift,” you returned her expression, sighing as you removed your apron, grabbing your bag from the back room before you left.

You’d tried your best to be quick in getting your groceries, making sure you’d gotten everything Jisung had told you to, your footsteps quick as you briskly walked to your apartment building.

Not knowing if it was because you hadn’t eaten in hours or if it was because you were just excited, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in you, not so much because you were excited to hear how Jisung’s meeting went but more of because you were excited that you were going to see Jisung soon.

Finally reaching your apartment, you’d pushed the door open to spot Jisung coming out from his room, a towel on his head as he rubbed at his freshly-washed hair.

“Hey,” you breathed, a hint of a smile on your face, scanning his face for an expression as he glanced at you, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose cutely.

Jisung had a whole plan for how he was going to surprise you with the news, he wanted to wait until the food was ready and when the both of you were seated across each other in the living room, wait for you to ask him about how the meeting went so that he could pretend to be upset about it.

And just like he’d seen in the romantic movie Chan was playing in the studio the other day, he would wait till you showed concern to give you a smile and tell you the good news, already being able to imagine the smile you would give him in celebration.

But seeing how you looked, a little bit breathless from rushing, carrying groceries in your hands as you looked at him with a smile that spelled nothing but relief, Jisung couldn’t help himself.

“He offered me a job,” Jisung confessed, his grip tight on his towel as he let his hand fall limp to his side, any perfect, fool-proof plan of copying the romance movie now long gone.

Your eyes widened, setting the groceries on the counter as you cheered, “oh my god, that’s great! I’m really happy for you!” You cheered, practically running towards him before stopping yourself halfway, realising you were almost about to hug him.

Jisung noticed you stop too, tilting his head at you as his hands had already begun to raise to welcome you into a hug, hesitating once he’d seen you stop.

“Sorry,” you huffed, shoving your hands into your pockets, taking a step back to create some distance between the both of you.

Jisung smiled, shaking his head, “don’t be.” Shocking you with his confidence, he’d taken a step closer to you, his arms going around your shoulders as he pulled you towards him, his head leaning against yours gently as one of his hands went up to pet your head gently.

“You really helped me through it, believe it or not.”

Your eyes widened, trying not to get too carried away with the way his hold felt too comforting for you to pull away, thankful that he’d let go first, his hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

“You hungry? The soup’s almost done.”

You nodded, “can I uh…take a shower first? I’ll be quick I promise.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you’d escaped to the bathroom, too focused on showering quickly that you’d almost forgotten about the hug. Keyword, almost.

Once you’d changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts, you’d practically jogged over to the kitchen, seeing that Jisung had already taken out the ingredients to thaw the meat and prepare the veggies.

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with Jisung?”

Jisung turned around at your voice, rolling his eyes at your statement, flicking the water from the veggies at you as you dodged, “figured I’d do something while waiting, you know, make myself useful.”

You huffed, a smile on your face as you gestured for him to continue, “well, don’t let me stop you.”

“So how did the interview go?” You asked, watching intently as he brought the platefuls of ingredients to the coffee table, stopping you when you’d moved to help him get the pot of soup.

“It’s okay, you go sit down, I’ll do it.”

You couldn’t help the impressed pout from your lips, not wanting to let on that the gesture had made your heart flutter.

Once all the food was on the table, Jisung had taken a seat next to you, the both of you starting to throw your ingredients into the soup, Jisung turning to you looking as though he’d wanted to say something.

“What was I saying before? Oh, right,” he nodded, “I didn’t expect him to be so intimidating, I nearly pissed myself when I walked into the room.”

You’d burst into laughter, Jisung laughing along with you, “I’m not even joking. Chan gave me a completely different description of what he would be like.”

You’d tried your best to calm down from your laughter quickly, seeing him take a piece of food from the pot and place it into your bowl wordlessly, choosing to ignore the gesture for the sake of your heart.

“But I’m assuming he’s not that bad? Since he offered you the job?”

Jisung let out a sigh, “yeah, thank god he did, I was a stuttering mess. Even Iwouldn’t have hired myself.”

You let out a chuckle, “you’re lucky he judged you based on the song, then,” you teased, earning a harmless glare from him.

You’d scooped some food into your mouth, looking up at him to see that he’d already had his cheeks full of food, nodding at you expectantly.

“So does this mean you’re gonna work on that producer guy’s team?” You asked, earning a nod from him as he swallowed his mouthful of food with a wince.

“Yeah, he said I could intern at his company in the holidays and if everything goes well he’ll give me a contract once I graduate.”

You let out a low whistle, “wow, imagine all the exposure you’d get there…all the different types of genres and artists you’d be exposed to,” you marvelled, Jisung finding it amusing how you seemed more excited about it than he was.

You perked up in realisation, “speaking of which…I realised you’d never let me listen to the song yet.”

Jisung flushed, shaking his head, “did I? I swear I did,” he lied, making you shove him, a smile showing on his face as you did, nodding in surrender as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table.

“What’s it called?” You asked, seeing him nudge his glasses up with his knuckle, shaking his head to flick his hair from his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he told you quickly, not wasting anymore time and playing the song.

As he started to play the song, you were surprised at the light sounding melody the song had started with, the sounds of the city that he’d put inside, the feeling that you were…at home?

“Don’t look at me when you’re listening to it, I’m shy,” he brought a hand up to cover your face, making you yelp, your hands coming up to grab his wrist, pulling it away slowly as you grew more focused on the song, recognising his voice as he sang.

It wasn’t a love song, thankfully, you realised. You realised that the song revolved around a certain feeling of calm, with themes of getting away from the busy nature of your life and taking time for yourself, something you realised you and him both kind of needed.

You listened until the song had ended, looking at him with a big smile on your face, a smile that made Jisung want to cover your face in fear that it would make his heart burst with how giddy he felt.

“I love this,” you told him, “can you send it to me?”

Jisung scoffed, “no way, how do I know you’re not gonna sell it before I can get it copyrighted?” he huffed, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table to support his head on his palm.

“I’m really impressed, how’d you get the inspiration to do this?”

Jisung shrugged, “my own life I guess, and the people that helped me get through that weird period of creative block that I was in,” he murmured.

You nodded, “well, whoever they are, you should thank them for me.”

Jisung nodded, facing the television as he contemplated in his heart whether to do what he wanted to do, turning to you with a small smile on his face, he nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Your eyes widened, not knowing what to make of his words. The song had started to repeat.

Jisung had shook his head, “I’m not just saying this because I like you or whatever—” he stopped himself with a small curse, “shit, that was not how I planned on telling you. Whatever, as I was saying…” he trailed off, his gaze landing on your tattoo, the neck of your shirt having started to slip off your shoulder slightly.

“Honestly, I really hated that drawing,” he told you, your gaze following his to look at your tattoo, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

“This? Why? But it’s so pretty,” you insisted.

Jisung shook his head.

“It was my first design, and I wasn’t…you know, I just didn’t think it was that impressive, and all. Chan had told me to keep it in my portfolio but I was really close to just removing it.”

His gaze shifted to anywhere except your face, distracting himself by looking at the various things in the house, his gaze landing on the rainbow-coloured umbrella at the door.

Jisung sighed, shifting in his seat so he was leaning against the sofa now, his body angled towards you, making you unconsciously shift your body to face him as well, your breath hitching in anticipation for what he was about to say next.

“But then, you said you wanted it tattooed, and I honestly didn’t want you to get it but I had no choice, you know, blah blah customer’s preference first and all that bullshit,” he waved his hand for emphasis, “but then after I saw you with the tattoo more, I guess my perspective started to change? I mean, like, you kept insisting that it was so beautiful and all that..you know, seeing you with it kind of started to grow on me.”

Jisung paused, his gaze on a corner of the coffee table as he tried to find the right words to express how he was feeling, shrugging at you and just deciding to say whatever was at the top of his head and work from there.

“I guess it kind of made me love my work more, and like, trust myself, you know… because I realised how beautiful it could be.”

You looked at him wordlessly, your heart picking up speed at the tension in the room, something in you urging you to stand up, making you get up on your feet with no aim in mind.

So as not to look like a complete fool, your hands flew up to hug your arms, “oh, it’s a little um, chilly. Be right back,” you sprinted to your room, reaching in your cupboard for your hoodie and putting it on without a second thought, too preoccupied to notice how it stopped at your thighs and how the sleeves bunched up more.

Returning to the coffee table, you’d almost regretted your decision to put on the hoodie, feeling utterly warm from how flustered you were, especially with the way Jisung was looking at you with a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Sorry,” you murmured, averting your gaze as you tilted your head down, not expecting Jisung to tilt his head down as well so he could search for your gaze, making you scrunch your eyes shut, wrinkling your nose as you let out a huff of laughter.

“You can reject me, you know. I remember you said you already liked someone,” he told you, and Jisung meant it, not wanting anything but to make sure you were okay, and happy.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to,” you murmured, finally daring yourself to meet his gaze, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the way Jisung had smiled.

“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that,” he told you.

Jisung had brought his hand up, lazily removing his glasses and looking at you finally, since now the other things in the house weren’t as clear in his vision, all that was important being that you were right in front of him, and he could see you clearer than anything.

“Why’d you take your glasses off?” You murmured, seeing him shrug, giving you a lazy smile.

“What? You scared I didn’t wanna see your face?” He teased, the flush on your cheeks making him give in almost immediately, “I’m kidding. I just didn’t feel like being distracted anymore.”

Maybe it was the atmosphere of the living room, or the lingering feelings the song had left in you, maybe it was even the way you felt like you were finally getting what you were waiting for.

Whatever it was, there was an overwhelming feeling of giddiness in you, especially with the way Jisung’s gaze had flickered between your lips and your gaze, and yet he’d made no move to lean closer to you, as if he was expecting you to move first.

Leaning closer, you’d let yourself glance down, getting distracted by the stain of black ink on the sleeve of your hoodie, only realising then that it wasn’t your hoodie.

“Shit, sorry I’m wearing yours by mistake again, it must’ve gotten mixed up,” you murmured, knowing it wasn’t your week to do laundry duty.

Jisung stopped you before you could stand up, pulling your hand forward so the only thing stopping you from losing your balance was his grip on your arm.

“I never thought I’d be saying this but, you can wear it.”

You’d sworn if your heart were any weaker, you wouldn’t have been able to last this long, Jisung seeming almost teasing with the way he’d inched closer at a painfully slow pace, so his lips were barely touching yours.

Just before he could pull back, you’d groaned in frustration, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of his jaw, meeting your lips with his.

And there it was again, the feeling of relief that washed over, knowing that this was very much happening, and that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Jisung pulled away first, his pupils blown and his eyes giving away his surprise, huffing at you and folding his arms, increasing the distance between you.

“I’m only realising this now, what do you mean I’m oblivious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll explain it again later, I swear.”

Jisung huffed, more dramatic this time, making sure you sensed his sulkiness (as feigned as it was), looking at you with a pout on his lips, “give me a kiss and I’ll forgive you.”

He puckered his lips, making you roll your eyes, though you didn’t hesitate to cup his face again, pressing your lips against his as your thumb brushed over his cheek gently, pulling away before he would’ve wanted. You couldn’t help yourself from laughing at the way he’d leaned forward, chasing your lips, frowning at you with a soft sigh when you’d straightened up.

“Can we eat now? The meat’s getting overcooked.”

===

lucas 11:30pm - dude I told u it would work if you smiled at him more cant believe u didnt believe me smh -

[tangledstarlight]

so apparently carrie just speaks to me on a level i never saw coming and i got this done waaay quicker then expected. on the plus side to that, this one is like. not as sad as the previous two i swear. also btw. do i think bobby killed his band mates? no probably not. is it funny? yes, yes it is. do i still think he’s lowkey a dick? 100%. but he’s also a good dad.

but anyhoo! carrie doesn't need a redemption arc because she hasn't actually done anything that needs redeeming? she's just made some catty comments. carrie is a good person she just makes some shitty choices and is a typical teenage girl. name one teenage girl who wasn't a bit of a bitch at some point? bet you can't.

ANYWAY!! it’s another 5+1 that’s carrie centric.

also on ao3 (link in comments)

trigger warnings! death mentions (because they’re ghosts), mild swearing.

one.

When Carrie and Julie and Flynn are eight years old they watched The Lizzie Mcguire movie together on the big tv in Carrie’s living room.

They jumped around on the sofa, each taking a corner and hoarding their favourite snacks, making deals when someone wanted a twizzler in exchange for a handful of m&m’s. 

They sing along to the songs, making up the words when they don’t know them and strutting around during the fashion show. 

They gasp out loud when Paolo is revealed to be a liar and cheer when Isabella sings. 

Her mom comes down halfway through the movie, in a too tight dress and heels that make no sense for wearing inside, pauses behind the sofa to watch for a few moments before moving on, into the kitchen and then back upstairs. She doesn’t offer to get them snacks or drinks, to ask who their favourite characters are or if they like the songs. 

Carrie doesn’t dwell on any of that though, because she’s with her two best friends and it’s a Friday night so they have a whole weekend together and her dad had promised to take them with him to the studio tomorrow and Carrie couldn’t be happier. 

That is until they get to the end of the film and she turns to look at her friends, face as serious as an eight year old can be when she realises what could make the whole weekend even better.

“I want bangs like Lizzie!” She declares, standing up on the sofa and jumping once before falling down to her knees, the cushions not giving enough of a bounce. The two of them share a look, identical wide smiles growing on their faces, they’re eight years old and cutting your own hair is the best idea you can have after all. 

“I’ll get the scissors!” Flynn is up and off the sofa, socked feet padding across the floor as she rushes to the kitchen. They’re not allowed to touch the knives or the pans, but the cutlery drawer is open to all. 

Carrie sits herself on the living room table, legs just skimming the soft rug underneath it as Julie tilts her head in thought at her, brushing her blonde hair in front of her face and then away. Carrie can’t help but giggle as it tickles her nose and Julie sticks her tongue out in concentration but she’s smiling too. 

“I think we just...y’know cut it across here, right?” Julie’s holding a section of her hair between her fingers and makes a snipping motion near her forehead. Carrie has never cut hair before, she’s never even really paid much attention when other people have been cutting hair, but that sounds right to her. 

She shrugs, squinting at her two friends through the blonde strands. 

“Sounds right to me.” 

Flynn nods, holding the scissors out to Julie who shakes her head and then Flynn is scooting next to her on the sofa so they’re both leaning in close. 

“You sure about this?” She asks, scissor blades opening around her hair and hesitating, just in case. 

“Do it!” And Carrie squeezes her eyes shut in excitement. Already anticipating just how cool her new bangs are going to look. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” A loud voice has Carrie’s eyes snapping open and staring wide up at her mom who is half way down the stairs and glaring at the three of them. Flynn has dropped the scissors on the rug and Julie’s hands are shaking as she drops her hair. They’d only managed to cut half of it and Carrie notices that it’s much too short. 

“I-” she starts, but her mom cuts her off by storming down the rest of the stairs, heels clicking with every step and standing in front of the three of them, arms crossed and glaring. “I just wanted bangs,” she finishes quietly, eyes down cast and biting her lip. 

She hears her mom scoff above her, suddenly seeming so much taller then the three of them sitting down, so Carrie stands up too, pushing herself off the table and trying to make herself feel bigger. Her mom just glares harder, head shaking. 

“You’ve ruined your hair. Do you have any idea how long it will take to fix? Ugh, Carrie.” She sounds like she wants to say something else, like she’s restraining herself from certain words. But she just shakes her head again, sparing a glare for both Flynn and Julie before turning around and shouting up the stairs. “Trevor! Get down here!”

They wait in silence, Julie and Flynn fidgeting on the sofa while Carrie discreetly tries to wipe away tears she hadn’t realised were falling. Her dad comes down the stairs, black jeans and some fancy loose shirt that hangs open and pause when he reaches the bottom. Takes in her mom glaring and Flynn and Julie sitting quietly and her badly cut hair. Her dad smiles wide and lets out a loud laugh that startles them all. 

Her mom turns her glare on him and Carrie feels herself letting out a breath, not sure what she had been scared about but knowing she had been scared. While she's not thinking about that, her mom and dad have started arguing. They do that a lot. Carrie sits down between Flynn and Julie on the sofa when they make room for her, Flynn resting her head on her shoulder while Julie takes her hand, interlocking their fingers. 

“Sorry I cut it too short,” Flynn whispers as the shouting gets louder, none of them paying any attention to what's being said. 

“Not your fault,” she replies with a shrug, raising Flynn’s head as she does so and making the girl laugh. 

“Oh whatever! You deal with her then!” Her mom shouts, and Carrie flinches, just a little at the way she says ‘her’. She doesn’t mean to make her mom mad, but it’s like all she seems to do these days. From the corner of her eye she can see Julie frowning, looking over their shoulders and deep furrow appearing on her brow. The way she looks whenever she’s thinking about telling someone off. 

They don’t get to see what Julie might do, because there’s feet stomping up the stairs and then her dad is sitting on the living room table in front of them and he’s smiling again. Even if it’s not as big as before, Carrie still smiles back. 

“Don’t think hairdressing is in your future Flynn,” he says and Flynn laughs and it’s like the strange tension that had formed around them is broken. 

“Sorry I cut my hair dad,” she says quietly, because she feels like she needs to. But her dad just shrugs, leans forward and brushes the still too long strands out of her face and shakes his head at the much too shorter ones, but he’s smiling. 

“It’s just hair kiddo, it’ll grow back. And I’m sure between the four of us we can make this more rockin’, huh? Used to help a friend cut his hair way back when, y'know,” he gets a slightly far away look on his face when he says that but it’s gone in a blink and Carrie thinks maybe she just imagined it. 

He helps them cut the rest of her bangs, feathering out the edges and making it look not so bad anymore, then he sits with them, sharing their snacks and singing along while they watch The Cheetah Girls. 

And he must drape blankets over them after they fall asleep, Carrie thinks, because when she wakes up in the morning they’re curled together in one corner of the sofa, warm and safe.

 two.

Carrie didn’t think she was a bad person. She just sometimes did a bad thing. But she did it for a good reason. At least she thought it was a good reason, it was the only plan she could come up with at least. It wasn’t like she had hurt anyone. Other than her dad's annoying PR managers head. But Carrie had never liked her anyway, they were always too smiley - in that fake, overly friendly way, not like Julie or Julie’s mom who smiled a lot and never in that way that didn’t reach their eyes. 

Carrie didn’t like fake people. People who made promises that they didn’t keep. People who made plans only to forget about them. 

Her mom had been full of both. Empty promises and forgotten plans. Always saying one thing and then doing the opposite. Always smiling at her with that half smile that never reached her eyes or seemed like it was really meant for her. 

She didn’t know if it was her fault or her dads, because she did it to both of them. Made her fake promises and half smiles. 

And then she left. 

She left before Carrie even got home from school. Mrs Molina had dropped her off at the front door like she did every Wednesday afternoon and Carrie had been excited all day, she remembers, talking none stop on the car ride over, because her mom had promised to take her to the beach. 

But the house is empty when they get inside, Carrie calling out and getting no answer and Julie’s mom is looking at a post-it note (she'll remember that very clearly later on, when she's older, that her mom had left a post-it note with a single sentence. Not even a letter) on the kitchen counter, her face going pale in a way Carrie has never seen before. Julie is standing next to her, one small hand holding her small hand as they look around confused.

When Carrie thinks back to that day now, to being ten years old and struggling to understand why her mom isn’t coming home, all she can remember is that it wasn’t her dad that hugged her and dried her tears. Her dad had barely said five words to her before shutting himself in his bedroom with music barely blocking out the sounds of shattering glass. Mrs Molina had helped her pack some clothes and taken her home with her and Julie.

It was three weeks later when her dad showed up at the Molina’s house and took her home. 

And Carrie knows he hasn’t left her, has always come back to get her. But Carrie also knows that when she needed her dad the most he wasn’t there. Didn’t seem to have anytime for her at all because he was too busy with himself. 

So she starts stealing things. Lip sticks and candy bars and cheap plastic bracelets. The only way she knows how to get his attention is to do something wrong. To do something that is classed as bad. 

She sits in the uncomfortable hard plastic chair, eyes on the doorway behind the security guard and waits. They’d called her dad as soon as she’d coughed up a name and number and now they were waiting to see who would show up. The guard might have been hoping for her dad, maybe he wanted to get an autograph, but Carrie knew it would be an assistant of an assistant or if she was really lucky maybe even Mrs or Mr Molina. But only if her dad was talking to them again. He was pretty good at losing people she noticed. 

There’s a knock at the door and in steps as assistant she’s never met before, but he’s got a blackberry in one hand and bluetooth headset on, talking rapidly to someone on the other end. 

“Hi, I’m here to get Carrie Wilson. I’m Dave, one of Mr Wilson's assistants and I’m hoping we can get this all sorted out with minimal fuss.” He’s got one of those wide fake smiles that all her dads PR people have and Carrie rolls her eyes, slumps down in her chair and  stops listening to the conversation. 

Maybe she just had to steal something bigger, more expensive. Something that her dad couldn’t ignore her over.

 three.

For most of her life, Carrie has been Julie Molina’s best friend. It’s one of the few constants that she can rely on when everything else seems to be constantly changing around her. 

Until suddenly it’s not. 

And it’s her own fault. 

Carrie knows this, knows she’s brought it on herself, knows that the only one to blame is herself. But she does it anyway. Can’t seem to stop herself from saying the words she knows will hurt the most. 

It’s almost like she’s watching the scene unfold from above, can see herself talking and smirking, can see the moment Julie and Flynn realise she’s being serious. Carrie can pinpoint the exact moment she destroys her friendship with both Julie and Flynn. 

And it’s funny, because on Saturday morning all she had wanted to do was talk to the two of them, to share her excitement with them about everything she was learning while watching her dad record. All the ideas she had for Dirty Candi and how one day they’d be able to do the ultimate collab with Double Trouble.  

She’s rewatching an old video of the three of them performing some half-finished song and dance routine between classes, Julie and Flynn trying to help her figure out how to make it flow better for her group. She’s thinking maybe they need to be spaced out a little more, maybe add in a spin or individual moves, with a pen-lid between her teeth Carrie turns to a fresh page in her note book and makes some small notes.

“Is that your group?” Someone asks over her shoulder and Carrie turns to see the producer her dad has hired for his newest album watching her video. 

“Oh, no, no! These are just my friends, they were helping me work out the dance routine,” she smiles at him, because she’s proud and he seems impressed and while everyone always whispers how Carrie can get a record deal because of her last name alone, she wants to get one because she deserves it, has earned it herself.

“That one singing is really good, it’s not you is it?” He asks and Carrie feels her smile freeze in place just for a second before she relaxes and shakes her head. 

“No that’s my friend Julie. This is me singing now,” she adds, tilting her phone a little in his direction as she sees herself dancing in the middle and singing aloud. 

“Huh,” is all he says with a pleasant smile on his face. But Carrie has been around people like him all her life and she knows when someone is giving a fake smile and she hates it. “Well, you let me know if your friend there ever wants to record something, alright?” And then he’s walking away, back to fiddle with dials and bars and talking to her dad. Not even realising the storm he’s unleashed in her mind.

Carrie ignores her phone for the rest of the weekend, doesn’t reply to any texts or acknowledge anything she’s tagged in. She moves silently through the house, her mind whirling with jealousy and anger and annoyance. Julie is her best friend, she knows she’s talented, has always supported her. There’s nothing new about this information. 

But there’s something about the producer, watching the three of them perform and him singling out Julie over her, even while she’s sitting right there. It buries itself in her mind, digging in roots and taking hold and Carrie can’t shake it. 

The growing jealousy she’s never experienced directed at her friends before. 

So wrapped up in her own thoughts and emotions, she doesn’t even realise the moment she comes to a decision. 

It is, arguably, the worst decision she could ever make.

(And in a few years time when she's older and wiser, Carrie knows she’ll look back on it and know this was the moment when she let herself become something she hated, fake and insecure. And she'll hate herself more than she does at the very moment it happens.)

All she knows is that Monday morning at school as Julie is smiling at her and Flynn is waving, both trying to ask about her weekend, Carrie plasters on a fake smile (and she hates herself for it, hates the way it feels on her face, hates the way it changes her eyes), she tosses her hair over her shoulder and says the words that burn a fifteen year friendship to the ground. 

It’s later that week, when Carrie is at home doing homework and her dad strolls into the kitchen and asks her where Julie and Flynn are that she finally, fully realises just what she’s done. 

“We’re not friends anymore dad,” she says, tucking blonde hair behind her ear and trying to focus on her maths work. She can see him pause at the fridge, turning curious and worried eyes on her, his mouth opening to say something when she cuts him off with a shake of her head. “We’re not friends, it doesn’t matter. Just drop it, okay?”

And, thankfully, he does. Carrie doesn’t think she’d know how to explain herself if he hadn’t.

 four.

She finds an old demo cd and a tattered notebook tucked between a book on The Rolling Stones and an unopened copy of some Gordon Ramsey cookbook. The name Sunset Curve on a black background stands out to her and she flips it over to look at the short track list. She doesn’t recognise any of the titles but she knows it must have some importance if her dad has kept it. 

Walking over to the stereo she opens the case up, pops out the cd and has it halfway into the machine when she drops it, eyes caught on the pull out and the half of a face she can see. 

She knows that face. Has seen it on stage more in the last few months then she would like. But he was supposed to be a hologram of some guy from Sweden. Frowning, she slips the pull out free, there’s a printed out sheet of paper folded in quarters too she notices but ignores it for now, instead slowly opening up the pull out poster. Four faces look back at her, and she recognises three of them from Julie’s band. 

The bassist who keeps winking at Kayla, the drummer who seems to pour everything he has into the song, the guitarist who looks at Julie like she’s hung the damn moon. 

And her – it’s her dad.

Younger, clean shaven, hair a little shorter and without sunglasses. But it’s him, she’d know his eyes anywhere, they look back at her in the mirror each morning. Carrie can feel her frown deepen, bites her lip as she tries to work out why her dad is in a band photo with Julie’s hologram band. 

The second sheet of paper crinkles in her fingers and she forces her eyes away from the pull out and unfolds that instead. There’s another photo of the band, and she idly thinks it must be from the same photoshoot because they’re wearing almost the exact same outfits. 

It’s an article, she realises as her eyes glance down at the words and then back to the photo only to dart straight back to the headline. In bold block print is the words that have her hands shaking and eyes clouding over in confusion. 

A Hollywood Tragedy. 1995. 

She looks from the article to the boys faces, wracking her mind to try and remember exactly what Julie’s band looked like. But she doesn’t think there’s any possible way she’d forget any of their faces. Not that it answered any of the questions now crowding in her head.

Because the only explanation she was coming to was fucking ghosts and that didn’t seem like an explanation at all. 

Though it would explain why her dad had been acting so strange ever since The Orpheum. Why he’d been cagey and cautious and asking so many questions about Julie lately. If her band had died in 1995 and were suddenly out performing with her kids ex friend, she’d be acting a little weird too.

Carrie can’t stop the laugh that bubbles past her lips, it sounds strangled and half deranged to her own ears and she’s not sure what to do. How to process this information in her hands. She remembers the notebook she’s holding then, a heavy weight in her hand and she can see doodles and words scribbled over the cover. She can’t decipher some of them, but over and over in different styles is that band name. Sunset Curve. 

Hands still shaking Carrie sets the cd, pull out and printed article on top of the stereo and takes in a deep breath, counts to five in her head and blows it out. Her mind is still racing but she feels a little steadier in herself. She flips through the notebook quickly seeing nothing but words upon words littering the pages in handwriting that is nothing like her dads.

Opening the book to a random page she reads. There lyrics, she realises with a jolt. Lyrics she recognises. Lyrics she has sung along to whenever her dad’s song came on the radio.

Lyrics he hadn’t written?

She turns to another page and then another, flipping through half the book and recognising nearly every song she finds. She pauses, not realising how fast and hard she’d begun to breath until she’s trying to suck in air as her heart races. Because these are her dad’s songs but his writing isn’t anywhere in this book.

Turning it to the first page she gets an answer as to why. 

There, in block print, underlined and circled, the clearest the writing had been throughout it all, as if the owner had been warning people to stay away from it, was the words: PROPERTY OF LUKE PATTERSON. 

And Carrie can’t even think to stop the laugh that leaves her mouth, or the small choked sob that follows. She had always wondered why her dad had written and recorded a song called My Name is Luke. 

Now she had her answer.

It wasn't his fucking song.

She’s sitting on the ground, back against a bookcase and legs spread out in front of her, making her way through the notebook slower now, taking in each song, when her dad finds her. He’s got his mouth open, like he was going to ask her something when he freezes in the doorway. Noticing the notebook, the cd, the poster. Carrie can’t remember seeing her dad ever looking so worried or horrified. 

“You stole his songs,” is all she says as she looks up at him. There’s no need to mention a name, they both know who she’s talking about. 

“Carrie–” he starts, but either he doesn’t know what he’s going to say or just can’t form the words, whatever it is Carrie watches as he stumbled, mouth opening and closing as nothing comes out. 

“You never said you were in a band,” because that’s another new thing Carrie has learnt today. Her dad used to be part of a band and then that band had died and he had stolen their songs.

“It was–” he pauses again, sucks in a breath and lets one out. “It was a long time ago. And they– they died, Carrie. I went to three funerals. They were dead, but their songs were– His songs were there and they deserved to be heard.” He doesn’t mention their names, Carrie notes as she nods her head at him, her eyes going back to the notebook of stolen songs in front of her. 

“You can’t say anything about this to anyone. Any of it. We don’t know what’s going on, how Julie knows about them. If they’re–” He doesn’t say the word, but it hangs there in the silence between them. Ghosts. But he keeps talking, not letting her say anything. “None of that matters. You can’t mention anything to anyone. About Sunset Curve, or about the songs.” 

Carrie snaps her head up to him, opens her mouth to say something. To say how it’s wrong and how he stole them and how his first two albums weren’t even really his. But her dad is talking again, and he’s crouched down in front of her now, hands resting on her knees and staring at her with wide eyes. 

“This could ruin me Carrie. You can’t say anything, okay? Please."

She looks at him, bites her lip as she looks back at the notebook and then back at her dad. Nods her head once. It’s been twenty five years, even if they were ghosts did it even really matter anymore? (She did her best to ignore the little voice in her head that told her it did.)

 five.

When Nick broke up with her, Carrie had cried into her pillow for an hour. She’d watched five different rom-coms and eaten half a tub of ice cream. She’d written a song that Dirty Candi would never perform but helped her get her emotions out all the same. 

Carrie thinks she’s experienced heartbreak before. When she fully realised that her mom wasn’t coming back, when she figured out that no matter how many times she was nearly arrested her dad wouldn’t be coming to the mall to pick her up, when she set fire to a lifelong friendship and watched tears she had caused fall. 

All of those were heartbreak, she thinks. They’d all hurt her in ways she was still trying to understand. Old wounds that had scabbed over badly and were starting to get infected. 

But this heartbreak is different. It hurts, but when she examines the metaphorical wound on her heart it doesn’t hurt to poke at it. Not like it still hurts to think about her mom or Julie. When her dad had found out, he’d told her a first break up was always the worst, but that you could get some killer songs out of it. 

(Now, knowing all that she knows, she wonders how many of his heart broken songs were actually written by him and how many were written by his dead band mates.) 

The small cut on her heart gets a plaster and she picks up her emotions and stuffs them back into place and she puts her fake smile on her face and by Wednesday when she next sees Nick it’s like there hadn’t been any hearts breaking at all. 

She does so well in fact, at ignoring Nick, at pretending the last few years with him hadn’t happened, that she almost doesn’t notice the changes. 

They’re subtle really. The way he walks down the hallways. The way he holds himself just a little straighter, but leans just a little on an angle. The way he says onomatopoeia in english class without stuttering once even though Carrie knows he’s never been able to say it fully. 

It’s all these little things that people who don’t know him wouldn’t notice. But she does. There’s something wrong with Nick and Carrie, well she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do about it. If she’s even supposed to do something about it. 

He broke up with her after all. 

So she watches as Nick watches Julie, as he talks to Flynn, as he goes about his day just being a little off. And she doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t do anything. She doubts anyone would listen to her even if she did say something. 

It’s none of her business, that’s what she keeps telling herself. Nick broke up with her, and her heart broke just a little and now she has no responsibility for whatever is going on. It’s what she tells herself. She hopes she’ll start believing it soon.

 +one.

There comes a moment, Carrie thinks, when you have to choose who you want to be in life. 

If you want to be a liar and fake and jealous, and ignore your mistakes.

Or if you want to put aside the jealousy, smile freely and care deeply, and own up to the wrongs you’ve caused. 

Right and wrong. 

Wrong and right. 

Carrie’s pretty sure if someone was to tally up her life choices there would be more marks in the wrong column then the right one. 

But she’s seventeen and she’s pretty sure there’s still plenty of time to change it. 

She hasn’t stood in front of the Molina’s front door in a long time, she can barely even remember a time when she’d rung the doorbell (that’s not true, she remembers the last time she’d pressed the bell and it’s a memory she chooses not to focus on, there had been too much black, too many tears, and she hadn’t found the strength to even offer Julie a hug, but she’d tried to make Carlos smile and hoped that would be enough.), and she certainly doesn’t remember ever feeling so anxious as she stands outside. 

She shuffles her feet, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and counts to ten in her head. She’s holding a plain brown gift bag in one hand, the rope handle rough along her palm and it’s grounding. She rubs her thumb along and it once and rings the doorbell. 

There’s a few seconds of silence followed by the sound of steps on the other side, someone shouting something that gets lost in the distance and then the door is opening and Ray Molina is looking at her. He blinks, an eyebrow quirking up and then he’s smiling at her, like he’s always smiled, warm and friendly and open and real. 

“Carrie! What a surprise. Looking for Julie?” There’s mild curiosity in his tone, but none of the animosity she’s always thought should be there. She’d made his daughter cry after all, shouldn’t he hate her on principle alone?

“If she’s around,” Carrie replies with her own smile, smaller and dimmer but she hopes it’s just as real. She’s still trying to work it out. 

“In the garage. Knock before you go in,” he nods around to the back of the house, gives her an encouraging smile and watches as she walks away. She hears the door shut only when she’s out of sight. And then she’s stood in front of another door. There’s sounds of laughing inside, the clash of cymbals like someones knocked into them, muffled voices all talking over each other. It all sounds very happy. She hopes she isn't about to ruin it.

She tightens her grip on the gift bags in her hand. When she had thought of what to do, when she had planned out every step and action and word, it hadn’t seemed so daunting. But now that she’s actually here, Carrie has never been so afraid. 

But she needs to thank them, she needs to apologise to them. 

All of them. 

Julie and her band of ghosts. 

She frowns at the thought, it only just occurring to her that she’s going to have to explain that she knows they’re ghosts. Though she supposes maybe the contents of the gift bag will do that. She hopes it does, she squeezes her eyes shut and rubs a hand across them. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

She could still turn around, walk away, act like she had never been here, pretend that she’d never decided she wanted to right some wrongs. 

She's half a step away from turning fully around when a voice whispers a stern ‘no’ in her mind. She’s not sure whose voice it is, though it is familiar and almost comforting. Blowing out a breath, straightening her spine and pushing blonde locks behind her shoulders, Carrie knocks on the studio door. 

There’s whispers from the other side, someone shushing someone else and then Julie is poking her head around the door and her eyes are widening as they land on Carrie. 

“Carrie. What uh– what are you doing here?” She asks, confusion clear by the furrow between her brows and the weary look in her eyes. Carrie swallows and does her best to smile, small and unforced. She’s not sure it works if the growing weary look in Julie’s eyes is anything to go by.

“I um…” Carrie closes her eyes for a second before opening them and nodding once. “I needed to talk to you. You and your band. And before you say anything about them being holograms, I know they’re in there. I heard them, actually I can still hear them they’re terrible at whispering.” 

Because she can clearly hear someone saying her name and another mentioning something about dancing and a very clear ‘maybe it’s about the haunting?’ ‘shut up Reg!’. Julie glares, this time over her shoulder at where Carrie guesses the guys are meant to be keeping quiet. But she opens the door a little wider and gestures for Carrie to come in. She waits to let out her relieved sigh until Julie isn’t looking her way. 

The studio garage looks the same as it always has, warm and inviting and inspiring. She suddenly remembers why they’d always spent so much time out here as kids. But there’s changes too, a drum kit set up, guitars and a bass in stands, clothes littered on chairs and draped over the banister of the loft. 

And of course the three ghosts. They’re a pretty big change. 

They’re stood looking at her.

Her dad’s dead ex-best friends.

His ex-dead-ex-best friends.

In the months since she first found the demo cd Carrie has done her best to learn a little about them all, out of curiosity more than anything. But it certainly helps now, to know who each of them are without an introduction. 

Alex, with his pink hoodie and hat on backwards has his head tilted, eyeing her curiously even as he taps a drumstick against his leg, but there’s also a slight smile on his lips and he even waves awkwardly with his free hand, Carrie thinks that’s a pretty good sign. Reggie has his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet and eyes wandering from her to Alex to Julie to Luke and back again, almost as if he’s unsure and Carrie can’t blame him, she’s pretty unsure too. Luke is glaring at her, sort of at least, his eyebrows are drawn together and his lips are scrunched to the side and his arms are crossed across his chest, and you don’t have to be a body language expert to know what that means.

“Look, I don’t want to interrupt and you can. You can tell me to get out if you want. I just–” She pauses, takes a breath and tries to slow down. “I just wanted to thank you.” There’s four identical looks of confusion on their faces and Carrie really tries not to roll her eyes but she fails. “For saving Nick. Or finding the real Nick again? I’m not sure what you did. But I know it’s because of you guys that he’s Nick again and that he’s okay. And I just– I wanted to thank you for that.” 

Whatever they had been expecting her to say, Carrie knows it wasn’t that. Luke goes from glaring to gaping at her, Reggie stops rocking and almost falls in the process, Alex has stilled his hands and Julie has taken a half a step towards her, eyebrows raised. 

“How do you– I– We–” Julie starts, fumbles, throws her hands in the air and looks at the boys for help. 

“How’d you know we had anything to do with it? Not that we know anything about it,” Alex winces, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say that last bit and this time Carrie means to roll her eyes at them. 

“Yeah okay, lets not do the pretending thing. I don’t know all the details, I just know you guys helped him. And that you’re ghosts.” It was Carrie’s turn to wince now. She hadn’t quite meant to blurt that last bit out like that. And now they were really staring at her. And all shouting at the same time while Julie was pacing and Carrie stepped forward and pushed the brown gift bag into Lukes hands. 

They all shut up as he held it at arms length and looked at her. 

“Just– just open it.” Is all she can say, biting her lip and looking anywhere but at them. 

She hears the sound of sellotape being unpeeled and the crinkle of paper and then a soft gasp. 

“Is that–” Reggie starts and Carrie forces herself to look at them again. Alex and Reggie and Julie are looking at the notebook that Luke is holding carefully in his hands, but Luke himself is looking at her. Eyes a little wide and mouth opening just a little like he’s trying to find words to say. 

“I also came here with an apology,” she licks her lips and looks at Julie, because it’s Julie she really needs to say this too. “I’ve made a– a lot of bad choices in the last few years. And I think… I think a lot of them involved hurting you Jules and I’m. I’m sorry. For being a bitch. For not saying anything. For everything.” 

She’s not sure what reaction she is hoping for. Or what reaction she even wants. Forgiveness would be the best, but she’s pretty sure that has to be earned. Or something like that. Julie just keeps looking at her, and Luke seems to realise that she’s not going to say anything, that she needs a moment, so he’s stepping forward, notebook still held in one hand. 

“How’d you know this was mine?” He asks and there's such a serious look on his face that Carrie can’t help but laugh. 

"Your names on the front page. In like, huge letters, and circled. And underlined.” 

“Riiight,” he draws the word out, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he laughs and suddenly Alex and Reggie are laughing too, pushing his shoulder and Luke is saying something about it being 'a long time ago, shut up'. And then Julie is standing next to her, knocking her shoulder lightly with her own. 

“Thank you, for bringing him his songs back. And for the apology,” Julie gives her a small smile and nods her head towards where the boys have gathered around the piano, notebook open in front of them as they look at old songs. It’s an invitation, an offer, small and inconsequential. She can say no. Could walk away. 

But Carrie is tired of making the wrong choices in her life. Wants to make a few right ones instead. Rebuilding her friendship with Julie, with Flynn too eventually, returning lost work to ghost band mates. It’s a good start, she thinks.

[random-mha-thoughts]

Eyes (Shinsou x Reader)

Pairing: Shinsou x fem! Reader

Genre: Spice

Summary: Shinsou isn’t happy about going out to billiards on a Friday night (he’d rather be home sleeping), and he’s really not appreciating all the attention you’re gathering.

Word count: 2,378

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ 

a/n: I wrote about 800 words in reader’s POV, then deleted the whole thing because it wasn’t interesting enough and rewrote it in Shinsou’s POV, but I’m still not feeling it.  I know I promised this yesterday, but I’m bleeding out my entire uterus and I’m in pain everywhere and I was in no mood/headspace to write anything spicy (tbh I’m still not, but I’m trying my damn best for you guys).  I still hope you guys enjoy it!

I got the idea because I went to a pol hall with my friends for the first time a few weeks ago and I was feeling myself Oh how far I have fallen now

Btw characters are all aged up to the legal drinking age bc we support responsible drinking in this house.  Enjoy!

Shinsou was less than thrilled with the idea of going to a billiards hall on a Friday night.  He didn't even know why his girlfriend was so keen on going when she doesn't enjoy going out that often and doesn't know how to play pool.  Wouldn't it be better to just cuddle up in bed after a long week of classes?  He certainly thinks so, he gives amazing cuddles.

He was even less enthusiastic when she walked into his dorm in a tight fitting, cropped, black sweater, skin tight leather pants, and heeled boots.  There's no way he would let her walk out of there where other guys could drool over even that small amount of skin showing and banging body.

She's nobody else's but his and he's not sharing.

He couldn't say that, of course, because he knows how stubborn his kitty is and she wouldn't change anyway, and he doesn't want to come off as being too overbearing.  Besides, she's way too excited at the prospect of going out.  Shinsou knows she just recently turned the legal drinking age and has been looking forward to going out drinking for the first time, and he'd hate to put a damper on her fun over some outfit.  And she has a right to dress however she wants without his input.  So he played it cool and sucked it up.

But now, he's regretting keeping his mouth shut.  Even though the two of them arrived together holding hands, some guys don't know how to keep their eyes to themselves.  His girlfriend casually drinks at the bar with Ashido and Yaoyorozu, laughing and having their own conversation, while he notices other guys from nearby tables scanning her up and down.  It makes him want to walk over there and punch the daylight out of them.

"Are you good, dude?  Do you want a drink?" Kirishima offers the stiff boy, observing his intense stare.

"I'm fine, I don't drink," the purple haired boy dismisses.  Not only would he have to look after his girlfriend tonight, but he doesn't want to chance the alcohol amplifying his aggression and he ends up punching someone in the face.  He doesn't want her to be disappointed in him for ruining her fun.

The red-haired boy leans back against the wall, taking a swig from his beer.  "Let me guess.  Your beautiful girlfriend is out there having a good time and you're worried about any unwanted guests touching the merchandise."

Shinsou quietly nods.  "Is that bad?  It's not that I don't trust her or anything-"

"No, you have every right to feel that way, it has nothing to do with trust," Kirishima waves off.  "There are some really unmanly guys out there.  I'd be wary too."

"Kaminari already tried putting the moves on her."  The boy recalls the moment they arrived the the hall.  The lightening boy was just coming back from getting drinks and he immediately wrapped an arm around her and slurred, "Lookin' good, hot stuff."  Shinsou was about to knock him out right there and then.  "If he wasn't my friend, I would've punched him."

"Yeah, but Denki's just a pervy drunk, he knows better than to mess with you," Kiri laughs heartily.

"He better."

The girls finally return from the bar as Bakugou, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Tokoyami finish up their game.  "We call next!" Ashido announces, grabbing a few pool sticks from the rack.

Shinsou's girlfriend slides into place next to him, he automatically wraps his arm around her protectively.  His heart can't help but soften at how smiley she looks.  "You doing okay?" she asks in his ear.

He gets a whiff of her vanilla scent in her neck.  "I'm fine," he responds in the same fashion, the music slightly annoying him for being too loud.

She takes a sip of her drink and grips his arm.  "I'm playing next, do you wanna team up with me?"

He shakes his head.  "You go have fun, I'll cheer you on from here."

Shinsou can't miss the slight fall of her face.  "Okay.  Don't be too lonely without me."  She kisses his cheek and follows Ashido to the table.

"I don't think the guys oogling her is the problem here," Kirishima chides.  "Pretty sure she would like it if you just spent some time with her."

The boy rubs the back of his head.  "I'm not the best at pool.  She'd lose if she were with me."

"That's not the point!  She's having fun, just look at her!"  Kirishima loops an arm around Shinou's shoulders and points his bottle at his girlfriend.

She's bent over the table opposite them aiming her shot, one eye squinting, her nose scrunched up, biting her lip.  Shinsou swears he feels his heart melt right there.  Even as she stands back up to follow the ball across the table, the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her face makes him feel lighter.

Bakugou, her teammate, high fives her for the shot, breaking Shinsou out of his trance.  "Of course she had to be with that idiot," he mumbles.

"Uh, thanks, dude," the redhead deadpans from next to him.

"No offense to you, I just never warmed up to him."

They sit back, watching their partners play the game.  During the next round, Shinsou tilts his head when his girlfriend bends over the table.  "I see why people play this game now," he comments, getting an eyeful of her sweetly rounded backside.  Those pants do look good on her, he thinks as the blood rushes downward.

And he's not the only one who thinks so.  In his peripheral vision, he notices some of the guys at the table next to them staring as well.  He doesn't need to use his quirk to figure out what they're thinking.  Eventually, the boys feel Shinsou's eyes drilling into them, only to turn around when they meet his murderous gaze.

"People in relationships really shouldn't though," he grumbles.

"Oh come on, dude.  Don't let a few outsiders get in the way of enjoying the show."  Kirishima himself is enjoying the view of his boyfriend's ass in his jeans.

Between turns, Shinsou watches his girlfriend have herself a good time, slowly taking her drinks, talking to her girls, dancing, and taking videos.  He enjoys the view, in more ways than one, especially the one time she had to take a behind-the-back shot and she had to prop a leg up on the table for leverage (He doesn't want to admit it, but he's a man, after all).

The second time he catches eyes hungrily staring at his girl, he almost goes up to them for a "talk," but Sero and Kirishima stop him.  She's not even doing much except swaying her hips casually to the music, but he still curses her lovely body proportions for attracting all the tempted eyes in the room.

He can't take it anymore.  After a third time, he pulls her aside and away from everyone else.

"Hitoshi, you're hurting me, let go."  Her voice is stern, so he obliges, but the dormant anger still bubbles inside him.  "You're really annoying me today, what's going on?"  The distaste is apparent on her features, a harsh contrast from what she looked like before.

Shinsou knows she's just had a few drinks, so he can't afford to make her too emotional.  "Can you just stand near me for the rest of the night?" he asks gently.

She scoffs, "So suddenly now you want to be near me?  Kirishima isn't fun enough to talk to?"

He closes his eyes and takes a breath.  "There are guys staring at you and I don't like it, okay?"  He's trying to keep his voice steady.

"Let them!" she throws her arms up exaggeratedly, accompanied by a dry laugh, "I'm not here to get another man when I have one right here!  Even though he's being kind of a spoilsport."

She takes a step closer to Shinsou and pulls him by the collar of his denim jacket.  "I love you and everything, but I'm here to have some fun.  If they get turned on by that, I really don't care.  You should trust me enough to know I can take care of them if they try to makes moves on me."  Her breath puffs against his face, and he can practically taste the alcohol in it.

When she let's go of him and strolls off back to the table, Shinsou let's out the breath he didn't know he was holding.  He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit turned on by her attitude and rough handling of him.

When he returns back to the table, his lovely girlfriend is already bent over, about to sink the 8 ball and win the game.  As she does so, she's singing the song playing in the hall speakers and dancing, but it's more obvious the way she swings her hips that she's doing it purposefully.  On the beat, she shoots, the ball ricochets off the edge of the table, and lands in the hole, making everyone around her cheer in victory.  Mina and Jirou join her little victory dance, garnering the attention of all the guys at the other table.

As the song changes, she looks straight at Shinsou, freezing him in place before smirking and sauntering right up to him.

Oh, I'm in danger now.

His heart pounds as she finally approaches him and stops right in front of him.  "You wanted me to stay right near you, right?" she questions, innocence dripping from her voice but her eyes hold a mischievous glint.  Shinsou doesn't know how to answer that, only swallowing hard as she turns around so her back faces him.  "Just relax, baby.  No one's gonna bother us anymore."

His breath hitches when she resumes swinging to the music, only she's brushing some particularly sensitive areas.  Shinsou's stiff as a board, the only thing registering is the slight sweeping against his pants and blood rushing.  His girlfriend, on the other hand, acts like nothing is happening, sipping her drink like this situation is the most normal thing in the world.

The poor boy clenches his jaw, his stomach tossing as she leans into him just a little more so her back meets his chest.  He places his hands on her hips to make her stop.  "Kitty, stand still, please."  His voice comes out more restrained than he intended.

"I just wanna dance, is that so wrong?"

He curses under his breath, eyes darting around wildly.  With the blood rushing in his ears, the light seems just a tad too much for him, and it's suddenly boiling hot in the hall.  The rest were setting up for a new game, nobody minding what'd going on in front of him, or what's slowly growing in his pants.

Shinsou looks to Kirishima for some sort of help, only to see the boy trying not to laugh and announcing to play the next game.

Harsher pressure on his groin calls his attention back.  His girlfriend holds his hands with her delicate one as she moves them further around her, allowing him to pull her into his body more.  The dizzying scent of her perfume fills Shinsou's nose, burying his face into her neck to groan out.

"Song's almost over, don't worry," she singsongs, slowly rotating her hips in small circles.

He can't take the strain or the pressure anymore.  The growing sensation keeps building in the pit of his stomach like a slowly tightening knot.  He dares a glance up, noticing for a split second that the same watchers at the next table have their eyes on them.

"Kitty," Shinsou growls, a new excitement planted in his mind at the thought of them observing the show, something like victory.

His beloved firecracker spins around and leans herself flush against him, a knee between his legs as she traps him against the wall with her small frame.  He's stunned at her boldness, unable to formulate words before she pulls him in for an aggressive kiss.  Her lips taste of biting alcohol and sweet cranberry juice.  At this point, he's been wound up and would take any chance to attack her too, leading him to grip her waist and close any remaining space between them.  She pulls his face closer, one hand cupping his neck and the other grabbing the back of his head, their lips colliding with heightened fervor and tempo.  He separates them to catch his breath, but she captures his bottom lip in her teeth and tugs, eliciting another groan from him.

Her thumb swipes the swollen lip she just bit and she smirks.  "Do you think I gave them a good enough show of who my man is?"

Shinsou chuckles and kisses her again, less ferocious as his desire was quelled for a moment.  "I think they know you're clearly taken now."

She loops her arms around his neck.  "And are you more at ease now?"  The mischief is gone from her now, only left with affection and care.

He knocks their foreheads together.  "Yes, I'm fine now."  His face heats up then.  "I'm just a little embarrassed now.  We don't usually do this in public."

She turns back around, leaning back into his chest again.  "It was for good reason this time.  We don't have to do it again if you're not comfortable."

Shinsou laces his fingers together at her tummy and rests his chin on her shoulder.  "If anyone else had seen us, I might've been more ashamed."  A chaste kiss right below her ear.  "That's the most I'm willing to do."

Her fingers entwine with his large ones.  "I'm sorry I was being stubborn earlier, I should've listened to you when you were uncomfortable."

"We got some fun out of it, didn't we?" he whispers dangerously low in her ear.  "Maybe we should come out more often."

She quirks an eyebrow.  "Never thought I'd hear you say that, but okay.  And next time, you're actually playing instead of standing around pouting."

"Who says I was pouting?"

His girlfriend cranes her neck to look him in the eyes.  "Babe, tell me you weren't going to throw hands at someone today."

"...No comment."

[taeguboi]

BTS HC: Late Night Talks

Request: ‘Headcanon request! Late night talks with bts members, please 😊’

Notes at the end because I waffled on a bit 😅

These are all just phone calls as late night talks btw

__________________

RM

“Hey baby”

you know he’s just being a cute lil bun

in his ryan pyjamas

He's waited all day for this

his day consisted of like 5 anecdotes

but they’re all relevant to you

There’s no one else he’d rather tell about his day

He was tired

but now he’s wide awake

but in a good way

his excitement about talking to you improved his mood

and your voice gives him energy

Asks about your day after like half an hour

profusely apologising for making it all about him

even though it’s obviously fine

you can’t compete with his stories of his day

maybe it’s the way he delivers a story

but his life feels more interesting

but he’s just as interested in you

“tell me more”

any problems that day?

solved

gone

whoosh

he has such a soothing voice

like you don’t mean to be rude but

you’re falling asleep

because his voice is so therapeutic

“baby are you still there? am I boring you?”

and you’re like NO that’s not it

it’s a long week

but he gives you a motivation to get through it

“just think about when we'll get to see each other again”

and you do

you get warm on cold nights

because you’re less tense

and hopefully soon you’ll be warmer 

because he’ll be by your side at night

Jin

“Hello there”

you can see his smile without it being a video call

Even though he may not have done much with his day

you just know he's looking damn fine anyway

Probably lounging in a formal white shirt just because

"How was your day?"

and you tell him it was average or boring or something

"I'm sure it wasn't just that... tell me about.................."

and suddenly you talk his ear off for like 15 minutes straight

even though you thought you didn't have anything to say

and you feel better for it

because Jin just has this way of getting you to speak

to let go of anything in your system that might be bugging you

or that you subconsciously wanted to share with someone

Has you laughing on the floor with just a simple story about his day

it might not have even happened

but the way he delivers the story hits just right and really tickles you

from

"I casually walked into the fridge today"

to

"I saw 2 birds doing it for the first time today"

and he tries to keep a straight face at his own story or joke

but in just a few seconds he's laughing with you

and that makes you feel warm

Almost as warm as you know you'll feel when you get to see him again

Suga

Late evening is probably the time of day at which Shugs is the most awake

So when you have like a 3 hour long phone call with him, it's like the beginning of his day

like you really wake him up and give him energy

so when you hang up past midnight because you're too tired, he let's the call end but then just sits and contemplates life

and thinks about you

sorry, the actual call

He was struggling for ideas for a track all day

and then you phoned him

it might kind of feel like he's being ignorant when you're talking to him

but really, your voice and everything you say makes him feel inspired

"Yeah, uh huh, yep, wow really..."

it sounds insincere

but you've known him long enough now to know that's Yoongi at work

and he's really good at multitasking

"Are you listening to a word I said?"

and he says yes and can recall what you just said perfectly

all whilst adding layers to his piece inspired by you

Sometimes he makes himself stay away from that computer screen particularly when he is missing you the most

that's when he likes to indulge in your voice and virtual company

you'll tell him something about your day

he will say his day wasn't anywhere near as interesting so you should just keep talking

and you do

your voice and your stories send him to sleep because just you relax him so much

"Yoongi?" you ask softly

no reply

you hang up the phone knowing that he's drifted off

and it's the best night's sleep he's had in ages

J-Hope

No matter how rubbish his day was

Hobi is always excited when you call

It doesn't matter how late it is

he's dancing around the living room before he picks up

and dancing whilst you talk to him

His neighbours on the floor below are like wtf is that unaware that the man above them is a dork

he makes up silly little jolly songs about you

at any other person, you'd cringe but with Hobi you can't wipe that big smile off your face

and then when he's used up most of his energy singing and dancing about you

he collapses on the couch and smiles at the sound of your voice

and then he falls asleep on the couch for a couple of hours with a smile on his face

Wakes up in the middle of the night feeling a bit empty

but happily takes himself to bed when he thinks about the next call he will have with you

Jimin

His heart flutters at the sight of your name on his phone calling him

sometimes misses that first call panicking and getting himself ready

the rule of thumb is to be surrounded by cosy and fluffy and cuddly things when on a call with you

that way, when he gets those moments of missing you the most,

he can cuddle that big teddy bear

or rest his face on the fluffy pillow

it's obviously not quite the same as being in your company

but it helps a little.

You tell him about your day

and he can imagine every move you make when you're describing what you got up to

he's thinking about how if he was there, he would come up behind you for a cuddle whilst you're cooking

or how he would be watching that tv series with you on the sofa

and so on

basically he's softer than soft

Can be quiet at times

sometimes you think there's a signal issue

"Hello? Chim?"

"Oh, hello" he replies softly, realizing he's just been lost in listening to you

"I'm still here my love, I was just listening that's all, sorry"

and he's forgiven

but you do wish he would maybe talk a little more

you want to hear about his day

but you know he won't say unless you ask him because he never wants to come across as too self involved

"Jimin, I want to hear about your day; how was it?"

"Oh, really? Well..."

and then he takes a while to begin because he's smiling too much about you wanting to hear about his day

he worries his day wasn't interesting enough

"I'm sorry I'm boring you aren't I? I'll shut up now..."

"No, Jimin!"

"It's okay I've forgotten what I was saying"

A lot of these late night calls are the two of you going to and fro like this

but you still get to go to sleep with smiles on your faces

V

"Jagiya!! Helloooo!!!"

"Tae, it's like 11pm, think about the neighbours!"

"Oops, sorry, I'm just excited to hear your voice"

Calls with Taehyung are a treat

he serenades you

ahh that deep voice is so soothing

you get to hear about his day

and then his little stories about the past that he accidentally goes off on a tangent with

"Wait, what was I talking about?"

You often give up within the first few minutes of the call to remind him that he has neighbours

it's not like it's disturbing your neighbours or anything

Sometimes he will talk about things you don't quite understand

but you just sit and listen because you just like to listen to him

then the game is up when you give the wrong kind of reply like "oh, absolutely"

"You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?"

but he doesn't mind

he's pretending to be offended

he knows by now that you like his voice a lot

and he loves your voice too

Jungkook

Nervous bean no matter how many calls you've had

anxious to see you again and doesn't want to wait the night / next few days / week

The late night calls are therapeutic to him

you can just relieve all of his worries with a simple conversation

Nervous bean then turns into a smiley bean

Beats around the bush a bit

will mention something he saw or did the other day

it was something that reminded him of you

but he's to shy to mention that

so he doesn't really come to any conclusion in his sentence

"Sorry guk, so what was your point?" you ask patiently

"Nah, it's lame..."

"Aww come on Jeongukkieeee"

"Fine..."

and then he just comes out with the sweetest things that make you melt

he worries it's too cheesy if he says something like

"I was watching (insert tv series here) and... I was sad that I wasn't watching it with you"

You love it when he comes out with little things like that

he doesn't say these things out loud anywhere near as often as he thinks them

but you know he really cares about you

and there's no one you'd rather be on the phone to late at night

_________________

I'm back! I know I keep saying I am and then I'm not but since we're living in exceptional circumstances, I figured I could occupy myself with the blog again. Sorry to everyone that sent these requests like 2-3+ years ago, I am truly rubbish 😂

Anyways, I was scrolling through the requests and I figured this would be an appropriate scenario to make something out of. The late night talks are all phone calls since here in the UK we are on lockdown so I guess that made it easier for me to write.

Ngl, I felt quite rusty on the whole writing thing when making this but hopefully at least maybe one person will like it hahahah

[mysleepdeprivedass]

Okay. It's like 4am and I need to share with you my AU over this fandom.

The post must be filled with misspelling or some sentence can make no sense buuuttt sorry I guess.

I'm not completely in the fandom but I freaking like the fancontent (I read a LOT of fancontent) sooo anyway. I saw this headcanon time to time so I put my idea in.

MIRACULOUS LADYBUG (honestly right now I have a fever for Ml fancon and fic sooo probably my next post will be ML content )

Honestly the headcanon risk to be kinda messed up and just a big less to read.

Anyway.

Rock/metal! Marinette (with a lil' bit of nerd!Adrien) AU

Sooo (I'm going with point and plus I just translate what I've written

• listening Jagged Stone (and she is a big fan)

• listen a lot a rock band, punk and metal band too.

• Like the old rock French band (like telephone - Which is a real French band if you want listen -)

• Under cut, that's she cut herself. Because she not going to paid 30€ for that and because she did that behind her parents back. She used to cut her mother and father hair (she like doing her family's hair -don't know it's the sentence lean something-)

• she have short hair cut (like at the base of the neck)

• Have few piercing (ear and some on her face (one rand of helix on her left ear, two conch and a industrial on her right ear, tragus on her right ear, stretch on each ear and 2nd earring on each ear. Septum and smiley, tongue and transversal labret.

• she's done almost all a piercing during her rebellious phase (in middle of her middle school) because dang she not going to paid 75€ for a hole on her ear (disclaimer : do not pierced yourself it's dangerous and must be do by a professional, I know that because I have personally some piercing and it's better to do it in a shop with someone you can trust)

•Nor is she oblivious about her piercing. She saw a LOT of video about piercing. She clean the space that's she wan going to pierced like a pro, an she use medical needless (that she buy in pharmacy - you can buy catheter on pharmacy-) She only go on shot for four of her piercing (her tongue, her lip, nose and mouth piercing)

• For a long time, her classmates thought that she pierced in a shop.

• They know the truth during a party at Juleka's place. They're was playing truth OU dare and Alya (who dream to get a piercing) Say that she would love to have a piercing (her parents said that will never happen under theire roof) Marinette tell her that she can pierced her because she have already pierced herself (begging in 6eme -I think it's the equivalent of the 6th grade-) Her first piercing was the helix's (all her classmates are kinda shook )

• oddly a week after the party, when Alya Returned from Marinette home she got home with two new helix on her right ear.

• la class décide de faire une soirée et Marinette percé tout le monde au moins un truc sur leur corps (elle part dans plusieurs pharmacie acheter des aiguilles et acheté sur un site qu'elle connais des prothèses de piercings et des truc pour clipé l'endroit a percé)

• she plays drums

• she like to brings her battery bench at school and she do some impro during break.

• She still love the color pink. One of her motto it's " Punk and rock need more pink" because dang because she love punk and rock doesn't mean she can't love pink.

• Her bedroom it's a weird but pleasant mixed of skull, pink skull, and random things associated with rock/punk style with pink

• like in her bedroom, you can see some studded and chains object and just Beside and little stuff pink kitten teddy and sit beside the kitten she have A goat with static crosses teddy (also pink )

• She have some satanic cercle and gems in her room (she kinda interested with Wicca stuff even she's not doing it everyday)

• she like cute and pink stuff

• her terrace/balcony have a mini-garden with roses, dahlia and a lot of succulents.

• Slay cat eye-liner and eyeshadow pencil.

• She ended by dye her hair, first she got a lock of hair pink and she just got a split hair black and pink (she's dyeing her hakr by herself, when she met Luka, Luka help her)

-To be honest now, it's like 5am and I never thought that translate some shitty idea take so long xD need to take a break. Now it's midday Soo let's go continued-

• When her class know she can do hair, she became theire unofficial hairdresser ( everyone paid her event if in the beginning she refused to be paid. Everyone try to snuk in their money in her stuff in the weirdest way possible) and when she opened deisgn commission she do some on their clothes.

*Scene *

- Alix what are doing IN my locker ?"

- I want to see the inside. Lovely locker, where I haven't been absolutely stuck for 30 mi.

- Just get out and get your butt out of my backpack.

• Her parents a 100% supportive over her chose. But sometimes they said no for some of stuff she want to do.

*Scene*

-No Marinette , believe me that's you're going to regret to do a hawk.

- Come one mom !

- * sigh* Imma going to hide your father's hair clippers and scissors. Believe me it's for your own good.

- No Marinette you are not going to shave your eyebrows !

- But Mom !

- No "But Mom,"! I take away your scissors and shaver

- You will make yourself a split tongue when you no longer live under this roof. Out of the question that I see a tongue split in half under this roof !

- No Marinette you're not too "cool" and to "rock'n'roll" for not eating your carrots. Now get your butt here and finish your vegetables.

- *sad Minecraft villager sound *

• People think that Marinette is some cold deadpan mean bitch before Alya come in her class. Alya had always know people like that (who look cold but are more afraid and shy to talk to people and just look scary ) Alya is the first friend (really friend) of Marinette because she don't give a shit about her look. When the two begging to be friends, the class notice that Marinette it's not mean like that though she is. And the class begging to talk to Marinette and be friend with her.

• She become deputies of her class because she's done with Chloe's bullshit and everyone accepted rapidly to have her like class president. Everyone is kinda shook about organization et Benevolent's Marinette can be. After that everyone really like Marinette and she like the mom friends of everyone but everyone know that she can always be scary especially if she angry and someone pissed her off more.

• Her class know about her deisgn hobit and dream during de hats conteste and that's she made almost all her clothes.

• When she hang out with friends concerts (people she met at some rock concert ) they decided to have a tattoo. Marinette have a Ladybug under her right foot. Alya is the first to know because during a sleepover, Marinette forget to hide it. Her parents are the seconds to know (same mistake she forgets to hide it with socks). Adrien know while being Chat Noir (he was hang out at her balcony and she was laying on the floor and he see it )

• inverse Crush au. Adrien fell in love to Marinette because she's the first to see who he is and don't try to put him on a pedestal and Adrien can see that's she is very different that her look can send like personality. Marinette love Chat Noir because he is her very first friend that she thrust completely regardless of her look. (Because even in the beginning she still suspicious about Alya)

• When she is Ladybug almost all of her peircings disappeared (her nose ring, stretch, helix's and her miraculous stay)

• she were her miraculous on her second ear lobe holes

• Tikki listening rock and punk music (honestly I want to see Tikki dancing with eavy hard metal in the room)

•Even she know she can't do that. she brings abandoned animals at home. She clean them and feed them in her rope before take them to a refugee or a veterinary. She let for the first time Jagged Stone because she found Fang hidden in a alley. She noticed that he have a collar so she bring him up to a veterinary where she have the habit to go. The collard have the information for contacted Jagged. Fang letting Marinette take him because she have the same smell that Jagged, some metal and vegetal leather.

• Marinette help Adrien to scare his fan. All of them just run away from Marinette. She become unofficially his bodyguard in school.

•She know how to defend herself and scare people because she go to a lot of underground concert and it's not always nice.

• She swear like a sailor. Not in front of her parents. She swear a lot when she frustrated or angry. And know Hawkmoth know that he is forbidden to send a Akuma past 2.30am, because the last Akuma have to deal with a really really angry ladybug (that was the first night since a very long week of sleep deprived and anxiety and a lot of work plus she was on her period which hurt like hell so she was pissed) No one speak about this day. Because the Akuma was running away from her

• Marinette smoke a little bit (most of the time during concerts when she hang out with older people and in rare occasion when she really really freaking out and her anxiety is very high)

• Woke up with eavy metal and hard rock. Tikki just well, have to take the habit

• Adrien is a big dork and nerd. Wear glasses and more "nerd" clothes during school, He is just a big weeb, and do 24h/7d anime and manga ref, Marinette laugh a lot about it +except pun she don't like them)

• Marinette save his phone number with nickname " cutie weebo"

• Adrien save her phone number with nickname "Iron princess"

• Discord group t'chat with Nino, Alya, Mari and Adrien. Name of the group : Rejects of the society Aka. DjDiscount (Nino), Almost-A-Reporter (Alya), Pinkipie-turn-to-emo (Marinette), KingOfTheWeebWorld (Adrien )

• Discord group t'chat for the class (because during my idea have this fever about texting fanfiction so why not, I always read texting fanfiction btw)

Marinette : Prez'AndPunk.

(given by Adrien)

Adrien : Usui Takumi (Weeb).

(Give by himself, everyone know the ref at Kaichouwa maid-sama, excepted Marinette who don't watch anime le read manga. and nobody explain to Marinette the link between their usernames)

Alya : Laydbloger

(By herself )

Nino : SmookWeedNotEveryday

(Giving by Marinette, who saw him hang out with smoker pal and she saw him smoke one, she know the people with who he was.)

Mylène : ImNotAMonster

(Giving by herself)

Ivan : TeddyBear

(By Mylène )

Alix : AlixDontPlayDespacito

(By herself, because Kim just do a full straight week with the same lame joke with Alexa play despacito but put Alix, at the first Alix going for AlixDontPlayDespacitoYou'reShithead but she changed it )

Kim : ICanDoAllBet

(by himself)

Max : Smartass

(By himself, kinda help by Kim, Alix and Marinette, during a all night up when Max and Marinette help Kim and Alix for school homework)

Nathanaël : TryToFoundSomeStreetCreedArtist

( inside joke between Marinette, Alix, Nathanaël and Marc)

Chloé : MyFatherWillKnowAboutThat

(Given by Adrien, Alya, Nino and Marinette after they have do a Harry Potter marathon. Because of the Look like between Chloe and Draco. It's Adrien, who change her username)

Sabrina : NotAWitchYet

(Inside joke between Chloe and her. Given by herself)

Rose : ILiveForMyOTP

(Given by herself, after a discussion between Juleka, Luka and her when she hang out at Juleka's home )

Juleka : IDrinkDarkCoffeeLikeMySoul

(Given by Luka, who stole her phone, inside joke between the two and for some revenge)

• Marinette hide her shyness with her "cold" style. But when she became friend with her classmates she more confortable and became very protective around them, a dont' hesitates to become physically violent. (Happen most of the time with, Alix (because she don't know when to stop before begging a fight) Rose Juleka and Nathanael (who are most of the time bully) and Adrien (she save him from his fan and stupid fuck boy ))

• After she became president of her class. The other class rep and professor don't like her (because of her look) and Marinette disregard all of them because on had they handle Chloe's bullshit. When class rep's and professor see that she competent and do a great shot they tolerate her and begging to appreciate her.

• She hang out with bullied people, she protected them (scaring their bully)

• she still a cinnamon rolls, especially with Tikki, Tikki is also the first to know that Marinette have anxiety. honestly she just a cinnamon rolls with her closest friends and family.

• Sty all night speaking with Tikki about ancient holder while they listen music.

• Sassy, like so much sass from her that it should illegal, when she's Ladybug she gives security and leadership vibe, people juste like her. And no one is afraid of her (Conversely when she is "Marinette")

•Sass a lit Hawkmoth about he fashion style about his Akuma. And during latest Akuma she just swear a lot again him. Because Hawkmotherfucker I need to sleep. And my coffee privileged just go revoked.

• She love hang out with Chat Noir. She try to flirt with him (when she's Ladybug) but he is so oblivious that he never understand and just friendzoned her very hard. (And because I'm a sucker for oblivious Adrien and Marinette)

• She fight some bullies (because fuck it I went a scene after she fight for Adrien and he heal her)

•Also kinda buff! Marinette ?

• She have anxiety and can have Anxiety attack (she can control them sometime ) She hide her anxiety very young. Because little she was shy and have anxiety and wearing and listen rock and punk music help her for be more protected like a shield against everything around her.

• Marinette is vegetarian (because why not) since primary school. And most of a leather clothes she make are vegetal leather or false leather.

•And she love wearing leather, like combat boots, jacket and pants.

Sooo it's took a day to finish to translate everything but Voilà. If you want pick some of the idea feel free to do it just tag me please. You also can reblog and feel free so add more.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

A Gay Cause

inspired by this

High School AU where Alya and Mari have been best friends for a while now, but haven’t met Adrien yet

Summary: Alya is but a dumb bi

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 1590

"Look at him," Alya points to the cute boy she'd probably talk up if she didn't already like Marinette.

"Ooh," Marinette nods appreciatively.

"I'm gonna go talk to him," Alya declares, and slides into the seat next to him with a wink. He looks at her, slightly startled.

"Hey, handsome," she purrs, offering a hand. "I'm Alya."

"Adrien." He accepts her hand. Instead of letting go after they shake, Alya uses his hand to lean in next to his ear and whisper, "How'd you like to be a fake love interest so I can make my best friend jealous?"

He leans back, looking at her in confusion. She nods back towards Marinette. "Been in love with her for a few years, but she's an oblivious idiot and won't recognize when I'm trying to flirt with her. Maybe she'll notice if I'm 'interested' someone else, yeah?"

"Well," Adrien drew out the word, considering. "If it's for a gay cause, sure."

"For a gay cause," Alya agreed, and they shook hands again before letting go. Alya pulls her phone out of her pocket and pulls up an empty contact, offering it to him to put in his info. When he hands it back, she see he's nicknamed himself "A Helper to Gays" and snorts.

"Helper to bi's, actually," she tells him. He flushes, and she snorts again, standing up to go. "It's fine. Thanks for agreeing to help."

"Of course!" He waves, endearingly awkward. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too," She winks again and sashays off to Marinette, to whom she promptly acts embarrassed. "I can't believe I did that," she whines, burying her face into Marinette's shoulder.

"There, there," Marinette pats her back, sounding slightly patronizing. "It looked like it went well."

"I winked at him," Alya bemoans. "Twice!"

"How'd he take it?"

"He didn't see it the first time, or if he did then he didn't react, and then the second time was right before I left so I didn't see his reaction. What if he thinks I'm too forward?" She can feel Marinette shifting to look at him.

"He seems fine; he's smiling."

The bell rings and the teacher starts talking before Alya can think of another thing to 'worry' about from their interaction.

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

The rest of the day passes pretty smoothly and Alya and Marinette wind up at the latter's house, talking together about how they thought their first days went and snacking on pastries that didn't look pretty enough to be sold but still tasted fine.

"Oh!" Marinette exclaims suddenly, and Alya hums questioningly at her through a mouthful of croissant. "That boy you talked to this morning! It looked like you got his number, have you texted him yet?"

"Nope!" Alya sucks air through her teeth and pulls out her phone, showing Marinette the contact he'd made (she'd switched out his nickname for "Pretty Boi" for this exact scenario, so Marinette wouldn't suspect anything). "Marinette what do I sayyyy."

"How about 'hi'?" she deadpans.

"Boring. Unoriginal. Not me enough," Alya pronounces the suggestion. "I need something," she does jazz hands "y'know?"

"Like with me?" Marinette asks. Her perfectly normal, "Hi, it's Marinette!" had been greeted with, "Ah, the new friend. Welcome to insanity. No takebacks." About half an hour later she'd sent "(it's Alya, hi)", but that'd been after she'd left her stunning first text.

"Exactly!" Alya points at her. "Gotta make an impression!"

"Can't you just do the same thing you did with me?" Marinette asks.

"No, this is the first text!" Alya exclaims. "Mine was the second, since you'd texted first. I've got to come up with something suitably impressive that'll embarrass me if it's the wrong person and embarrass me a little anyway even if it is Adrien, and it's got to be recognizable as me."

"Welllll," Marinette tilts her head as she thinks. "Did you say something when you were talking that you could reference?"

"Hmm," Alya thinks back. "Oh! We talked about how bi I am." Pressing the messages button in his contact, she types, "btw bro what's ur orientation"

Marinette, reading over her shoulder, snickers and shoves Alya. "You can't be that forward!"

"Too late." Alya sticks her tongue out, and they play-fight for the next couple minutes until Alya's phone dings and they both rush over to look at the message.

"? What? Is this Alya?"

"yea yea. n i mean who r u into. we've already established i'm bi so i won't judge u if u like guys"

"Oh, no I'm straight, but power to the LGBTQ+ community, right? I don't see why people can't let others be what they are and like who they like without kicking up a fuss."

"oh ur a keeper"

"? What??"

"nothing. marinette says ur a keeper"

"I did not!" Marinette huffs with no real heat behind it and reaches for the phone.

"You were thinking it though!" Alya giggles, pulling it out of her grip. They fight over it, probably sending keysmashes and confusing Adrien horribly. Marinette manages to grab it and dance out of Alya's reach long enough to send off a text before Alya reclaims it. There are a few keysmashes and Marinette's text, "I Did Not, Alya lied"

"sorry, marinette stole my phone"

"Ah," Adrien says, and then there's a few seconds' pause before the bouncing ellipsis shows up as he asks, "DID you lie?"

"yeah, guilty as charged ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ u r a cool dude tho adrien"

"Thanks! :)" Alya shoots off a smiley face back, and the conversation naturally draws to a close.

"There!" Marinette claps her hands on her thighs. "That was easier than expected, hm?"

"And it was a better conversation than if I'd just gone with 'hi', hm?"

"I'll admit it if you do?"

"Never."

"Fair enough."

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

The next few weeks pass and Alya falls into an easy friendship with Adrien, though she plays up the "budding crush" when alone with Marinette.

"You seem fine whenever you're talking to him," Marinette points out.

"It's weird! Like when I'm actually talking to him I'm fine but then we stop and it hits me that I'm talking to him, y'know?"

"Yeah," Marinette sighs. "I know the feeling."

"Oooh," Alya leans forward, hoping she's wrong but shoving her feelings aside. "Has someone got a crush?"

"Oh, like you're any better with Adrien," Marinette shoves her away. "Personal space, Als, gosh."

"Oh, c'mon, you love me," Alya flops her head into Marinette's lap.

"You're lucky I do," Marinette says and starts playing with her hair.

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

"I just realized," Alya says.

"What?" Adrien asks, looking up from his textbook. They'd met up at the library to work on homework together.

"I have no clue what I'm supposed to do about Marinette."

"What about Marinette?"

"Like, the whole plan was I pretend to have a crush on you to make her jealous, right?" Adrien nodded, still looking confused. "Well, I don't know where to go now? I don't even know if she's jealous? How do I go from supposedly crushing on you to confessing to her?"

"Ohh," Adrien stares at her as the situation sinks in for him too. "I have no clue."

Alya starts giggling, feeling slightly hysterical, and faceplants into her open textbook. She asks around it, "We really are dumb, aren't we?"

"Yeah, kind of."

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

Soon after Alya's realization, Marinette starts acting a little weird. It's not a big difference from her normal self, just. Squeaking in surprise a lot more. Sounding nervous around Alya for no reason she can discern. Going quiet randomly and having to be pulled back to reality.

After about a week of this, she confronts Marinette.

"Okay, girl. What's up."

"What do you mean?" Marinette asks, voice going up like it does when she's trying to play dumb.

"Girl," Alya gives her a look. "You've been acting off all week. What's up."

"Well," Marinette twists her fingers, looking off to the side. "I may have overheard you and Adrien talking in the library?"

"Okay, I couldn't hear the second half of that for squeaking. You may have what?"

"I might've overheard you and Adrien talking in the library?" Marinette says, gazing fixedly at a spot on the wall. "About... not homework?"

"Not homew— oh." Alya grabs the nearest thing—a pillow—and hides her face behind it. "You heard that? All of that?"

"Yeah..."

"Kill me now, before my embarrassment does," Alya tells the pillow. Or Marinette, she's not really sure.

"But..." There's a long pause, and Alya peeks up from behind the pillow to see Marinette looking like she's screwing up her courage.

"But?" she echoes.

"But if I do that, I—I won't be able to tell you I like you too." Marinette squeezes her eyes shut, like she's bracing for rejection. Alya can't do anything but gape at her, and slowly one of Marinette's eyes peeks out at her, then both, looking at her in concern.

"Alya? You okay? Did I break you?"

It takes a second for her to reboot, but once she does Alya smushes Mari in a hug. "Girl! Really?!"

"Really!" Marinette repliess, slipping her arms loose from Alya's grip so that she can hug her back properly.

"You wanna date each other then?" Alya asks excitedly.

"Yeah!" Marinette beams, and Alya beams back.

"Alright, girlfriend," she says, enjoying the way the word sounds.

"Alright, girlfriend," Marinette echoes, looking like she likes the sound of it just as much.

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

That evening, Alya sends Adrien a selfie of the two of them, captioned, "Thanks for helping the gay cause ;)"

[judehayward]

lady gaga voice slowly fadin in: ju-Das juda-ah-ah… this depressed goblin bastard is honestly my fav male muse like i dnt typically stick w male muses tht long i struggle bt................. i’ve played him the longest of them all n always seem to return to him. jst cnt stay away. way 2 attached to this absurd little man. it’s nai btw!!!! (josefine on the main). launches right in to jude’s intro without further adieu..... (u can also find his playlist here) 🧙‍🎨

「douglas booth & cis-male」⇾ hayward , jude, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a pisces and 23 years old. he is studying ART, living in moris and can be protective, laidback, nonsensical & apathetic. when i see him i am reminded of wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects, lead marbles instead of eyes. ⇽「nai & 23 & gmt & she/her.」

he pinterest:

me in the voice of a card magician performing on the street: round up round up pick a pinterest any pinterest!

ta-da it’s aesthetics:

lead marbles instead of eyes, a stolen hearse careening down the wrong lane, wearing a faded smiley face sticker on your forehead while receiving a serious lecture, bags under the eyes that are so big they could pack enough clothes for a three week vacation, a cigarette wobbling from your bottom lip as you squint against the sunlight, passing out on a stranger’s rooftop, placing sunglasses over the eyes of a biology lab skeleton, gangling around the place like shaggy minus his scooby snacks, saying “fuck off” to inanimate objects

about tha Bitch:

born in sheffield in england, bt they went back and forth between there n san fran a lot

jude was an unhappy accident. his parents never rly used protection bc they were super Liberal n Au Naturel n believed in the pull out method bc… they were maniacs. bt then the ONE time they used a condom in an effort to b safety conscious it broke n hence…. jude was born

they just kind of ran w it bc they had such a passionate relationship tht they were like What The Hell…. may as well! itll be fine we’ll learn to be good parents n love him like normal ppl do

spoiler alert: tht didn’t work out

they were ok to him like they weren’t fully Bad bt they just found him to be a massive burden n hindrance to their plans. pretty absent n irresponsible. they literally….. had sex all day every day n acted like a pair of teenagers. it ws a super weird environment for a kid to grow up in bc he literally had no role models or… guidance or…. anything rly. occasionally they’d joke around w him or pretend they properly knew what grade he was going into but for the most part they just Didn’t Care the way parents shd. they lost his birth certificate n dnt remember what they put as his middle name so he’s jst kind of like hmmmm............. n gives himself a diff one every time ppl ask. past variations hv included: jude pauly hayward, jude maureen hayward, jude van winkle hayward. says all of these w a very straight face

despite this he does hv some nice memories w them. usually he definitely sees them fr holidays. frm being rly young their christmas tradition hs been to get a bunch of chinese food like a Banquet Feast n spend all day smoking n drinking into the early hours. perhaps not the healthiest or most responsible bt 😔 jude rly likes it it’s kind of the one time of yr he feels he has a proper family

they r both suuuuper into the arts. rly good sculptors bt they paint too n they actually own a successful gallery in sheffield n san fran

(trauma tw) as a result he grew up around a lot of creative n sometimes pretentious ppl. the friends of his parents were more present in his life than his ACTUAL parents bc they were always jetting off to diff countries to scout out new pieces fr their galleries n just have a gd time in beautiful places without…. the annoyance tht ws being responsible n looking after someone. tbh some of his parents friends were rly damaging too bt….i won’t go into that just yet. it doesn’t rly…need properly explaining bc jude never talks abt it anyway n it….is rather triggering so i’ll jst….leav it for now tbh. basically they just were Not Nice n jude had a lot of bad memories he keeps repressed bt he also??? has some gd ones..... it was a strange environment bt he’s a survivor

(death n grief tw) he hd to do community service bc he kind of… hd a bit of a breakdown before the funeral of his elderly neighbour who bsically raised him bc her kids rly didnt care abt her they jst wanted her inheritance?? so he… stole the hearse w her casket still in it n ws jst like… drivin around the place sort of… tryin nt to cry…..KJJFHSFKJGHKFG i mean. it isnt funny its actually sad bt :/ in a very bizarre n jude way. he gt caught n taken in fr questioning bt her son kind of realised hw… broken up abt her death jude ws n had a heart n didnt press charges. regardless he stil hd to do community service bc it ws like taken seriously even tho it ws his first proper offence. doin it rly exhausted n depressed him so when he wsnt doin tht he ws just hibernatin in his room……. this ws like 4 months ago nw............ just some fun lore fr u all

bc of how he ws raised he has a p cultured taste. he luvs classic lit n p much anything artsy. he can play piano 2 n sometimes gets rly high n thinks he’s mozart level gd at composing he’s jst going fking wild on the keys in a trance...... i mean he’s gd bt… chill

he’s rly sarcastic n so deadpan like he’ll say smthn completely ridiculous bt he’ll say it w his whole chest so sincere.... it’s rly hard to tell when he’s joking or serious honestly. has an overflowing secret sketchbook n if he cares abt someone he’ll probably secretly draw them. does NOT share these drawings w the person he hates being openly sentimental. at heart he is jst a very Sad Boy w lots of repressed issues like depression genuinely just does NAT giv him a single break bt he plasters over this w wise cracks n never discusses his emotions ever. he’s actually p decent or at least tries to b. he’s kind of like tht bit in superbad where michael cera gets rly drunk n makes a toast to women like tht energy...........

he has rly bad insomnia so he like never sleeps idk how he’s Alive straight up. please go to bed sir............. he always has rly sleepy eyes n rubs them tiredly mid conversation. he smokes a lot of weed to try n compensate fr this n make him tired bt he still struggles a lot

ANYWAY that aside he’s at radcliffe doing art, focusing on fine art like painting is............... the thing he luvs most...... his style is kind of.......... taking normal things n painting w surreal colours.... he likes A LOT of colour in his paintings which is kind of a stark contrast to his personality bc his world’s so.... washed out n grey............ lovs art n philosophy n literature n photography n music.... 

ummMMMMmm honestly idk i’m blankin on what else to say. ull find him smoking weed reading an american classic or gnawing at his thumbnail n getting charcoal smudges on all his clothes. wandering the streets in plaid pj bottoms n dr martens eating frm a cereal box without care in the world. he’s p broody n scruffy n he’s mostly here fr a laidback time....... doesn’t rly like when ppl take themselves too seriously........ likes strange ppl thinks the world is mde richer by them n likes when ppl can jst bounce back jokes at him without being like erm. u dont make sense mate. bc frankly he can come up w some strange stuff sometimes.............. talking to him cn b like navigating a dark n bendy road without a flashlight....... 

(drugs tw) once did shrooms n woke up naked in the woods curled up in a pile of leaves. to this day he recounts this as his werewolf transformation. hs no idea hw he ended up there n when ppl r like are u not. concerned jude. tht is so strange? he jst shrugs like.............. dunno....................... suppose i’m jst a werewolf upon occasion. so casual abt it. jst truly does Not care abt most things at all..... almost to the point tht it’s concerning (sometimes way past the point tht it’s concerning too :/)

this is the desc on an aesthetic i mde of his style once n sums it up well!! ‘additionally: too many pairs of trousers, a hideous amount of white t-shirts all somewhat stained with charcoal, a jumper so thinly knit it almost looks sheer, chipped teale nail varnish, a cream corduroy jacket with a cigarette hole singed onto the cuff, vintage wiry reading glasses he almost never wears, a freshly rolled cigarette behind his ear, a thrifted t-shirt with a warped bart simpson wearing a stethoscope with the caption ‘bard knwos cardiology’ and two crops hacked that way with kitchen scissors that he sometimes wears to paint.‘

EXPERT at rolling spliffs like jst. mkes them so precise n neat....... it’s his super power. his fav thing to smoke frm is banana flavour papers.................... linking 2 this he’s like. bad w emotions bt he does try..... once his friend (maggie) ws sad so he brought her a spliff wrapped in grape flavoured paper bc it’s her fav fruit n jst like. wordlessly gave it to her. it’s the thought tht counts.....

PLOTS!!!!!

plays bass in a band which cld b a fun connection to get together??? i picture the music being like surf rock type like........... mac demarco...... bt he also luvs elliott smith n glass animals n the cure n metronomy n neutral milk hotel n talking heads n radiohead n mazzy star n wolf alice...................... idk jst like.... within tht ballpark i suppose i imagine it being................

mayb ppl he shares classes w?????? i’d like someone tht does a similar course n they hang out tgether when it comes to trips fr the module to museums or exhibits or wtever................ they both stand in front of paintings analysing it rly wrong n saying stuff like hmmmmmmmmm....... i do declare i see a, uh..... large phallus protruding from the centre of this image...... moves something in me.......... n some elderly person looking at it besides them is like Ergh. sickened n disgraced. leaves w a brow severely furrowed

someone he smokes w on the moris rooftop late at night when he cnt sleep??? mayb they’re up n cnt sleep either fr whtever reason n it’s become an unspoken kind of ritual where they always clamber out n find each other there n jst wordlessly keep them company

jude is kind of like. protective almost to a fault sometimes........... mayb some guy he’s punched......................... if they hurt someone he cares abt........... typically it wld hv been a girl he ws kind of like. affected by his first relationship bc she had a bad home situation n ever since jst wnts..... to Protect it’s kind of like an automatic instinct ingrained in him nw 😔 all sounds very noble n well bt sometimes it cn b a bit of an escalation i wnt lie

perhaps a few hook-ups??? jude doesn’t tend to sleep w ppl he rly knows bc he just..... likes it to b an impersonal thing doesn’t like getting attached fr various reasons so mayb they only kno each other via this OR mayb he bent his rules a bit..... cld either work seamlessly or hv added drama if one side hs mre feelings or whtever

currently living in moris w 2 roommates bt i’d love some neighbours perhaps..... mayb someone tht lives directly nxt door to his room n is like ://// bc he plays music loud n weeds always drifting frm his window n mking their room smell if theirs is open too................. or mayb they get on..... mayb there’s a rly mean seagull tht lands on a branch n poos on pedestrians n they both commentate on it frm their windows like david attenborough...... they’re like he’s at it again. they’ve named him n everything

HONESTLY anything if u have an idea hmu i’d love 2 hear it.......... rubs my hands tgether in excitement to plot up a storm w u all

[gxenbev]

Guilt

I’m trying to write something different, and it ended up becoming more of a vent fic, but heres the first chapter. I’m hoping to write more, but I might not continue it depending on the response it gets. Feedback is very much appreciated! if anyone wants to talk, my ask box is open. Btw, it will be reddie in future chapters.

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Richie quietly enters his dorm. He carefully shuts the door and walks to his bed, but he can’t see straight. He tumbles face-first to the floor, and Stan’s phone flashlight is shining on him in an instant.

“Richie?” he asks frantically.

Richie sits up, but the pounding in his head prevents him from saying anything. He rubs at it, but the pain doesn’t subside.

“Richie,” Stan says again, but this time more urgently. He stumbles out of his own bed and kneels beside Richie on the ground. He takes his hand away from his face. “Really, Richie?”

Richie moans. He knows Stans mad. He can feel the angry seeping out of his touch, even though he’s being gentle. He can hear the hurt tone in his voice, and Richie knows he fucked up.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles trying to turn away from Stan.

“You promised to be back by nine? Don’t tell me you fucking forgot. We both know its a lie,” Stan tells him harshly.

“Gonna go to bed,” Richie slurs, wobbly pushing himself off the ground. He falls back onto his bed without stripping off his jeans and stained t-shirt. He doesn’t need to look up to know that Stan’s still glaring at him.

“How am I supposed to be able to trust you, Richie?” he asks. He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears.

Richie looks up to see Stan furiously wiping at his face. Stan doesn’t cry. He yells and he whines, but tears are never evident. Richie wants to get up and hug him, but he thinks he might puke if he tried to stand. Stan looks like he’d punch Richie if he even tried to touch him, but he can’t think of anything to say. Instead, he leans back and bites his lip to keep it from quivering.

Richie can hear Stan climbing back into his own bed and pulling the covers up. He lays on his side facing Stan, but Stan is turned away from him.

Richie knows he fucked up, he doesn’t need Stan to point it out. Stan told him he needed to be home by nine, and Richie said he would. When eight-thirty rolled around, he realized Stan wasn’t his mother and he doesn’t have a curfew anymore. A few drinks later, Richie realized he probably should have gone home. Lying in bed now, Richie knows he definitely should’ve gone home.

He falls asleep quickly despite his mood. He just wants to sleep the alcohol off.

When he wakes up, he’s surprised to see Stans still there. He's sitting on his bed with his textbook and a spiral notebook in front of him.

Richie grabs blindly for his glasses and see’s the glass of water and Advil on his nightstand.

“Thanks,” he mumbles to Stan, letting him know he’s awake.

“Make sure to drink it all,” Stan says, going back to his work. Richie listens and pops the pill into his mouth before chugging the water.

“Stan,” he starts, but he can’t get any words out once Stan makes eye contact with him. He can see the hurt behind his deep blue eyes and it makes him want to curl up into himself and cry. He hates that he's the reason Stan looks like that.

“Are you hungry?” Stan asks, not waiting for Richie to finish what he was going to say. Richie nods and Stan hands him the bagel he brought back from the cafeteria that morning.

“Thanks,” Richie says and Stan nods. He settles back onto his bed in silence. They’re used to having a silence hang between them, but usually, it's a comfortable one. This one is heavy and awkward. Richie knows he needs to apologize or explain himself or something.

“I think I’m going to go to Bills,” Stan mumbles. Richie watches him as he gathers his things and heads to the dorm across the hall. Richie feels the pit in his stomach widening.

Richie doesn’t hate Bill, per se. He’s nothing but nice, but Richie can’t stand to see him around Stan. The two of them together make Richie’s eyes burn. He doesn’t know if its the way they laugh together or the way Bill smiles at Stan like he’s the only person in the room. Whatever it is, he can’t stand it.

Richie tries to go back to sleep to ease his raging headache. He thinks of things to say to Stan. He’s tired, but the image of Stan’s hurt face last night keeps him awake. He decides to pull out his own notebooks and finish some homework.

He pulls out his communications textbook and the creased notebook from the bottom of his bag. He searches through three different backpack pockets before he finds a pencil. Richie turns to the next clean sheet of paper, but he can’t focus on the words on the page, either. Instead, he starts writing down the things he wants to say to Stan.

He begins the list with:

I’m really really sorry.

Richie bounces his pencil off his chin, then crosses it out.

I hate it when I make you look like that. Hurt.

He starts the next line.

I hate when you’re with Bill, and I hate that I hate that.

I hate that I can’t talk to you like a normal person.

I hate that you’re still nice to me after I’m terrible to you, because I know I don’t deserve that.

Richie keeps the notebook open but closes his textbook. He’s still not in the mood to study. He looks closer at his paper, but he can’t write down in accurate words all the things he wants to say. He dumps the contents of his bag on the bed and shoves his notebook in it. He shoves his jacket in there as well and rushes out of the dorm, locking the door behind him.

He heads to Beverly’s building. Richie needed to vent or cry or both, and Beverly was the only person who could tolerate him when he was deep in his feels.

Richie doesn’t wait long at the door. Beverly rushes to open the door as soon as she hears the knock, and Richie catches the disappointed look on her face when she sees him, but he pretends he doesn’t notice it. Maybe she was just expecting someone else. She starts smiling brightly and lets Richie in.

“Hey, Richie, what's going on?” she asks after Richie’s settled on the deflated beanbag on the floor.

“Miss Marsh, what do you think of Denbrough?”

Beverly shrugs. “Bill’s my friend. He's nice and whatnot. We don’t talk a whole lot, but he’s sweet when we do. Why?”

Richie takes the notebook out of his bag and sets it in his lap. “I want to like him, but I can’t.”

“What's stopping you?” Beverly asks. She rummages in the mini-fridge for a coke and tosses one to Richie.

“He’s always in my room hanging out with Stan.”

“And why would that bother you?” she asks, taking a seat in the beanbag beside Richie’s.

Richie’s quiet for a minute. Beverly waits patiently. He debates saying something vague, but he needs to tell someone how he feels and Beverly just feels like the right person.

“I think it's because every time I talk to him, Stan gets this hurt, disappointed look in his eyes, but when Bill talks to him, he gets all happy and smiley.”

Beverly frowns. She takes Richie’s hand in her own and squeezes it tight. Richie can’t look her in the eye. He still feels the heavyweight in his chest and he wants to cry.

“Richie,” she says, calmly. Her voice is dripping with sympathy and Richie hates it. He doesn’t want sympathy. “It sounds like you have just had a crush.”

Richie’s hand goes limp in Beverly’s. He had never thought about having feelings for Stan before, but that's what he would think if anyone came to him with the same story. He thinks harder about all the time’s Stan has looked at him, or more accurately, looked down at him. Of all the things he feels around Stan, love was never one of them. He doesn’t like Stan like that, he’s sure of it.

“No, Beverly. I don’t think that’s it.”

Beverly nods. It's comforting that she doesn’t push the idea any farther. She believes him, and Richie realizes that that's a rare occurrence for him.

“Maybe you just don’t like that he’s happy around Bill,” she suggests.

Richie can tell his face gets all scrunched up because Beverly laughs and smooths out the crease of his eyebrows with her thumb.

“Why would that be?” he asks her.

“Because you want to be happy like that, but you’re not.”

Richie looks up at Bev’s loving face. She’s not looking at him like he’s inferior. Stan looks at him like that a lot. She’s looking at him like she cares.

“Miss Scarlet, I think you might’ve just hit the nail on the head,” he says in the most obnoxious British accent Beverly’s ever heard.

This discovery fills him with a new kind of guilt; guilt that doesn’t just fill his chest but sits on top of his shoulder and makes his head feel heavy and his legs feel numb. He can feel tears burning in his eyes and Beverly rests her hand on his cheek.

“Richie, it's okay. It’s okay, Rich,” she whispers. Beverly pulls Richie into her side on her own beanbag and lets him rest his head on her shoulder. He doesn’t try to stop the tears anymore and Beverly doesn’t shush him like a child. She lets him cry and rubs his back.

“How did you know?” he asks softly.

“Experience,” she says without missing a beat. Richie’s heart extends for her, his best friend.

Richie opens the notebook resting on his lab and shows it to Bev. He avoids her eyes. He doesn’t want to know if they look the same as Stan’s.

Instead, the arm wrapped around his shoulders pulls him in closer.

“I love you, Rich, you know that?” he asks.

“I love you too, Bev,” Richie tells her.

The guilt that's been piling up is starting to feel lighter. He feels better. Richie stays a little while longer before going back to his own building. On the walk, he tears the page out of his notebook and crumbles it up before shoving it in his coat pocket.

[ladybugsfanfics]

Strangers On A Train [2] | Tom Hiddleston x reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Style: Originally a drabble (here), but this is part two

WC: 2308

Warning: Pining, so much pining, really this is the most pining I’ve written

Summary: Original drabble is based on this prompt :“we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine” - prompt source, part two is for @sabine-leo‘s 1,5K follower celeberation writing challenge (congrats btw <3) and my prompt was the setting “sleepless nights” so here u have one long sleepless night

A/N: Uhh, so this became so much longer than the first part and I’m in love with it and really proud of what I wrote and kind of ready for a part three if you guys want that.. ^_^

If you wanna be added or removed from my taglist, please let me know ^_^

Part One  | My Masterlist

Your phone vibrates where it lies next to you on the couch, carelessly thrown when you got home. It’s a text, or more a reply to the smiley you sent that morning to let the stranger on the tube know you got his note. 

It bubbles lightly in your stomach and a smile grows on your lips. However, not sure how to reply, you put it back down and let your attention follow to where it had been. The TV plays an episode of The Big Bang Theory. You didn’t really follow it when it first came on, but now, your mind travels to another place entirely. 

Last night’s tube ride had, after all, been very different from the usual. But it had been nice, way too nice. The disappointment in not seeing him on the tube ride home today is still at the bottom of your gut. There’s just something about him, something about the way he held onto you, made you feel safe. It’s unlike anything you have ever felt before. 

Your phone starts ringing, the vibration affecting the couch and making an annoying sound that scares you enough to jump. You take it up and see the name flash. Stranger From The Tube

Something stirs in your gut as you stare at the screen. The smile you had grows wider, and you shake your head before you slide it and answer. You carefully put the phone to your ear, and say a small ‘hi’. 

“Hi,” comes from the other line. A voice as soothing as when you first heard it. “It’s Tom,” he adds. 

You chuckle. “I saw that.” You bite down on your lip, trying to keep from saying something stupid. “Why did you call?” 

He lets out a sigh, a huff more like it, with a small ‘hehe’ laugh. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” The line goes quiet. You can hear his breathing on the other side, and just that has the hairs on your neck stand. “I guess I couldn’t… I couldn’t wait to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” you say, “we didn’t really get to talk before.”

“Not with you half asleep on my shoulder, no,” he says and chuckles. “Do you maybe want to go out for a drink? Tomorrow night?”

Your words get stuck in your throat. How do you say yes without sounding like you couldn’t wait? Without feeling like you sound desperate (to be honest, you are kind of touch starved)?

“Or does that not work?” His voice sounds smaller, insecure. 

“No, no, no,” you hurry, “it works great.” A mental reprimand to not use too long to answer, flies through your head. “I… I was just thinking, uh, that the night is…” You purse your lips. “... still young.”

You pinch your eyes shut. Your heartbeat loud in your ears and your breathing gone because, god you just proposed that, and you don’t know if you can breathe before you hear his answer. 

“Oh,” he says, “sound great. Meet at your tube stop in an hour?” 

You nod furiously, biting your lips to keep from squealing. Only to realize this is a phone conversation and he can’t see you. You take a deep breath. “Yeah, that sound lovely. See you in an hour?”

“See you in an hour.” The line clicks and the conversation is over. 

If he could see you now, the big smile on your face and knew how hot you felt, he would cancel. You’re sure of it, but instead of pondering whether or not he actually likes you, you rush out of the couch, turn off the TV and get to the bathroom. 

Before going out, there are some things that need to be done. 

Shower. You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower. Every bit of you is cleaned, and despite knowing time is short, you still take the time to shave. You’re not even contemplating not doing so. 

Make-up. Most of the time, make-up isn’t that important. Some mascara goes a long way, and you don’t use much more now either. You use some eyeshadow, a natural matte nude palette that blends in with your skin tone. You pair it with some mascara and eyeliner, making your eyes pop. And as a final touch, you find your favorite red lipstick and apply it. Happy with how you look, you move on to the next step. 

Clothes. What the hell are you supposed to wear? The make-up alone is much, but also kind of natural and toned down. How do you pair that with something cute, yet showing you want to get to know this guy? In the end, you pick a black button down dress that ties around the waist, and even though it fits rather loosely, shows off your figure. You’d recently bought it as something casual you could wear to a birthday party, and this is the first time you get to use it. Studying yourself in the long mirror in your bedroom, you have no problem thinking you look cute. 

Shoes. The dress being casual, and the knowing that’ll you’ll walk and probably stand, calls for something else than high heels. So, going rather tomboy-ish, you pair it with a pair of flat, black sneakers that match the dress. The soles are white and gives some color to the otherwise black outfit. 

Hair. And the best for last, you style your hair. You let it fall naturally, spray it to get some style in it, and when you’re happy with the look, you smile at yourself in the mirror. 

Seeing the clock, you have about two minutes before the hour is up. You search around your apartment for a little purse to go with the outfit, trying desperately to find something small yet able to have a phone, keys and wallet. It takes two minutes, but you finally find a black one that you’re happy with. One last look in the mirror, you smile happily and get out. 

It’s fortunate it takes about five minutes to walk, because if it took more, you’d be a lot more late than you want to. Five minutes is within reasonable time, especially for a spontaneous ...date? 

You get to the tube station and look around. The man you’re meeting stands off to the side of the entrance. Seeing him, you get even happier with what you picked out. He wears a pair of black jeans, tucked in is black shirt that clings to his body and the arms are rolled up to his elbows, and a jacket slung over his arm. You hadn’t even thought of taking with you a jacket. Maybe if you get cold, he’ll let you borrow his. 

With light, nervous steps you walk towards him. A nervous purse of your lips as you stop and say hi. He smiles, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s eyes study you from top to toe. It lingers a little on your lips, his tongue just out for a second, before he finds your eyes. Every part of your body feels like it’s on fire. 

“Hi,” he breathes. “You look… wonderful.”

Your gut churns and you resist the urge to bite your lips. “Thanks,” you say. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His smile widens, and he offers his arm. “Shall we walk?” 

You nod, and take the arm he offers. The touch of his skin against yours is pleasant, a slight burn that traces its way up to your neck and down your spine. The chill air helps, as you would rather not start to sweat. Yet, at least. 

The two of you walk in silence, steering into the tube and getting ready to fine one that gets you to the city centre. In little time, you step off and walk into the city night. You’ve let go of Tom’s arm, but you still walk close. Every once in a while, your hands brush and a shot of electricity courses through you. 

“Where would you like to go?” asks Tom. He casts a glance your way. 

You tilt your head up to glance at him, and catching his stare, you divert it back down and purse your lips. Why is your heart beating so fast? “Uhh, I don’t… I don’t have any…”

“Any preference?” he asks. 

You nod, a blush creeping its way into your cheeks. The heat feels like too much, especially mixed with the constant heat of your skin whenever you accidentally touch. 

He smiles and lets out a small laugh. “What about…” He looks around and his eyes land on a place. “...there?” A long finger points at it. 

“Sound nice,” you reply. 

--

11.38 PM

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, really. I don’t know why, but he did that.”

“Oh, but you did that other thing, right?”

“Shh, we don’t talk about that.”

“Of course we don’t. You wouldn’t do anything stupid, would you?”

“Fuck off.”

--

12.52 AM

“A hat? She got upset for a hat?”

“Oh, yeah, I can’t say why, but the hat meant something.”

“The hat meant something. What did it mean? That it was supposed to be on her head?”

Laughter. “No, apparently, it meant to be in the sea.”

--

02.23 AM

“What? You don’t want to dance?”

“No, that’s not really my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Talking. Getting to know someone. Laughing.”

“Those are some great things.”

“Yeah, it’s that and being awkward.”

Laughter.

“You’re not awkward.”

“Oh, sure, because I know how to speak. Yeah.”

“You haven’t been awkward the times I’ve met you.”

“You met me exhausted on a tube where I literally sat on you, and today, where I’ve gotten alcohol.”

“There was no alcohol for four hours ago.”

“No, but there was no conversation either.”

“That’s not a criteria for something to not be awkward.”

“Well, I am, deal with it.”

“Now, what you do have is attitude. Not in a bad way.”

--

04.12 AM

You fiddle with the keys for a moment before the apartment becomes unlocked. Inside, you take off your shoes and lay down your little purse on your coffee table. Tom follows right behind, taking off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat stand. 

“You want something to drink?” you ask and take a wine bottle out of the fridge. Before he’s even answered, you set down two glasses on the counter. 

Tom comes into the kitchen. He leans against the counter, “that would be lovely.” His gaze travels over you as you pour the glasses, and you shiver at the feeling. As with the whole night, your body responds to how he acts, how he speaks, and you love every minute of it. 

“Here,” you say and hand him one of the glasses. He takes it and your fingers graze, sending your heart into overdrive and setting your skin on fire. 

You move to the living room, and you sit down on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you―making sure your dress covers you and doesn’t show anything you don’t want shown. Tom sits down close by, his knee touches yours. Neither of you pull away from the touch. 

“What were we talking about again?” you ask him. 

He chuckles lightly. “About my work, I think.” 

You nod. “Yeah. An actor and a pretty famous one, too.” Something flickers in his eyes, but you don’t catch what it is. “How is that?”

“Exciting. Tiring. And every bit as fun as when I started out.” Tom smiles, it grows fond as he talks. Fonder and fonder as he retells stories, and talk about the friends he’s made. You listen intently as he speaks. Eyes flicker between his lips and his blue-green eyes that burn with a passion. 

The night continues. You talk about everything, about nothing. Stories from your childhood, stories from now. Those little details. Those small things that mean something. 

And suddenly, the night is over. 

The clock reads eight AM. Tom chuckles at it and stands up. You follow him to the door, lean against the wall as he puts on his shoes and grabs his jacket. 

“I had a great time.” He balances back and forth on his feet and puts his hands in his pockets as you stop leaning, a smile on his face that you return without hesitation. 

“Yeah, me too.” You bite your lip and look down on the floor, on your feet. You glance back up at him. “We should do it again sometime.”

He nods. “We should.”

Neither of you say anything. He moves to the door and turns the lock. Tom looks back at you and you smile at him. Your gazes lock. His flicker down to your lips, his tongue takes a quick trip out. You smile, wanting him to take that step. 

“Bye,” he says and opens the door. 

You move to close it as he walks out. “Bye,” you say. Your heart pounds in your chest, nervousness courses through your veins and hope keeps you from uttering more words (or sounds) than you want.

He lingers in the doorway. You’re closer now, closer than the moment before. Your heartbeat pulses inside your head, your throat feels tight. Just lean in, it’s not that hard. But you don’t move. 

Neither does he. Instead you stare at each other, both lick your lips. 

“You have my number,” you say, and tiptoe up to kiss his cheek. 

He nods. “I do.” And with a smile, he walks away. 

You look after him. Your pounding heart not slowing down, and your brain telling you to run after and kiss him. On the lips. But you don’t. You watch as he turns smaller, and you feel the butterflies in your gut. And you know, with a hundred percent certainty, that you’ve met the love of your life. 

NEXT PART!

Permanent tags:  @devilbat @adefectivedetective

Tom tags:  @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress 

[ithinkthingsaboutstuff]

The Grace of motherhood (TUA)

I wanted to do a character deep dive of my new favourite robot Mother

Grace Hargreeves, i just love that a small character like this got so much detail and crafting put into them when it was not necessarily needed.

were to start, lets start with how she looks,

the style of her look and how the change in her wardrobe showed her development. I will be looking at this in the timeline of the show not necessarily ep by ep.

The style and what it says about her.

very 1950′s no surprise but lets look at it deeper, when grace is created (by Hargreeves) she is shown wearing (i can’t find a pic of it anywhere) in the opening of  1x09 ‘Changes’

in something not dissimilar to this

the look is a long skit (dark brown) and a shirt with long sleeves (white with dark striped) and hair up in a very tight bun, like so

now theses are NOT graces clothes this is the uniform that the other nanny's where wearing as well. so this means grace did not chose to look like this, also in this scene we see her look over to Hargreeves and Pogo for approval she smile’s at a job well done and they nod to her. (i will come back to this)

so when Grace is first introduced (shows timeline not ep order) 

she is Hargreeves perfect uniform robot nanny that dose what she’s told with a smile.

the next time we see her in ‘I heard a rumour ’ (again show’s timeline) she’s wearing this

this Scene is also when Vanya is getting Rumoured, so Grace gives Vanya her Favourite food (grilled cheese) and her “medicine”.

in this short moment and change of wardrobe we can concluded that

1-  she now cares about what the kids want to a point , because there is no way Hargreeves told her to bring Vanya’s Favourite food, (even if he did tell her to bring food) 

2- she was more control over her self with being able to pick her own clothes, they have colour (not a lot or bright but more than before) and her hair is a little lower but still heavy made up. 

3- the kids (Vanya specially) trust her enough to take something from her and believe her without questions or a fight (Vanya takes her medicine quietly, because Vanya can still toss Grace out the room at this point)  

so grace is gaining a little more self identity but still very much live under Hargreeves thumb, because she dose not question or bring up what she was told to do and is still doing what she dose for Hargreeves and what he wants (get rid of Vanya’s powers)

Now here’s where it gets interesting her next bunch of appearances go roughly in this order, (I am guessing the order but from what I've talked about the first two do seem to line up this way, but the last two are certain and canon)

This dress is a step away from what we’ve see up until this point, it’s still a darker colour (silver,even if glittery) like a metallic and the ribbons and other fetchers are very streamline, makes it look almost robotic (see what i did there)  she is also wearing shorter selves and a wider skirt the look she favours  

so this looks like her first step towards what she wants to look like, also note that 

1-she also talking to Vanya directly this time, Hargreeves is not even in the room, so she doesn't have to say anything to Vanya if she didn’t want to

2-Vanya went to Grace’s ‘room’ or area to show her the violin

3- Grace encourages her ‘that wonderful Vanya’ or something to that effect 

4- and the line that kills me every time i hear it “i’m going to be extraordinary” is Vanya speaking to Grace 

(BTW this is a part of a wonderful gif set by  tuagifs link on gif)

Classic grace or most common outfit she has,

the look itself is light and colourful but still has black spots (apt metaphor if ever i’d seen one) now I’m sure this one comes second here because this is when grace starts to have more, awareness of Hargreeves BS towards the children and her feeling about it 

1- “the kids wanted to say good night” she is now going out of her way to do what the kids want even if it means interrupting Hargreeves

2- she dose not know how to handle his response or lack there of, 

3- leaves with the kids as apposed to staying with Hargreeves and she dose not turn back to him when she leaves

this is were the shift starts in Grace’s personality, she is no longer looking for Hargreeves approval and has shifted her focus to the kids  

The day five goes missing, this how see looks when he runs out the door (damn,buffering much)

she say nothing in this scene, but if we are looking just at the outfit here, it’s the most bright and colourful in the show and she wears it later. so i will talk more about them, note that the hair is still in the middle length and made up to perfection and she is behind Hargreaves (a few feet at that).    

Grace doing her rounds, here is when she is fully there mother, putting out fires everywhere for her kids (literal in Klaus case). her clothes are more simple but not as conforming as they once were, so they are for mobility and movement and not a uniform (ironic since the kids are putting on there’s)

now she is with her kids 100% here and the scene ends with her being proud of Diego and Hargreeves walking in unapproving, we did not see the conversation  that follows but we do see adult Diego’s reaction to it,

mournful maybe, but he did say she was treated worst then anyone, so this may have been an off screen example of that. who knows?

ok time skip to the present

I will skip the Luther surgery, for the sake of time, and lack of pic, but i will note that this is when grace official didn’t have any of her children with her anymore.

at the funeral  

not much to say about this one, sorry.

but i will say that, when she is looking at the painting this dress is similar colour to the one in the painting, since Grace is projecting herself onto this painting in that ‘she’s lonely’ also now that Hargreeves is gone and he took her mind with him, she is at her darkest.

also note that 

1-Hargreeves messed with her mind he didn’t just get Pogo to turn her on then off again 

2-Hargreeves set her up to take the blame for his death, thus being the murder mystery to get them all working together Pogo was talking about.

3- that was when Hargreeves saw Grace as reaching her usefulness, the kids where grown, he was going to kill himself and Pogo never needed her. so the only thing left for her was to reunite the kids to save the world, by making her his murderer 

We go back to classic look Grace until after her death 

after she’s is back, in 1x06 ‘the day that wasn’t’

she is moving around and back in classic Grace clothes but this time she has her hair down and she is moving freely, Diego talks to her about what she remembers and  Pogo appears out of a bookcase to instruct her not to say anything, now what dose Grace do she  takes Diego out of the grounds to tell Diego the truth,

this was it 

true independence her first real act of which we saw anyway. Hargreeves is dead and Mama’s going to do what ever the fuck she want’s

now this didn’t happen in the main plot line but this independence remained not in obvious way but still there.

this is show though her hair being down and her clothes being lighter and her make up being lighter neural colouring as well 

compare the pair

before 

after 

1- same outfit, years apart

2-  what she doing is the same serving food who she is with is different

3-  why she’s there is different to she is doing what Hargreeves told her to do vs getting Diego food because she wants to cheer him up

4- she is close to Diego puts her hand on his shoulder vs being a few steps away from Hargreeves 

this right here in two frames you can see a whole characters transformation form one mans automaton to a loving mother,done without even a complete change of wardrobe 

damn.

and that’s one aspect of Grace 

we also know she 

1- named the kid’s

2-she took care of all there injuries(so she was most likely the one who wired Klaus mouth shut)

3- did not even try to stop Diego from turning her off in fact she was encouraging him with is specking, mush mind or not that was her priority 

4- put smiley faces on her food, Hargreeves would not have told her to do this

Now this all leads me to my final point about Grace and honestly what i find the most interesting about her. Her whole housewife identity, more specificity when it comes to motherhood. what do i mean, 

we have all hear this narrative before of a women trapped in a marriage with a man she doesn't love, stuck in a house to do nothing but cook, clean and care for the kids.

this story is one that has been explored in shows like Mad Men (i have not seen a lot of mad men just a disclaimer)

Betty Draper for example

these character’s usually look at how the superficial can shape and destroy a life. and how in order to find anything real you have to broaden your horizon’s by going out into the world and opening your mind and therefor being more than a mother and a housewife, and you’ll be free of your superficial life. (and yes i know it dose not go this way for Betty but this was the overall idea of the arc)

this is a strong narrative don't get me wrong and it should be shown

but what i find interesting but Grace is that, yes she is basically trapped in just about every single way but her freedom dose not come from the outside world rather it comes form her.

she becomes a mother.

that’s where her freedom comes form.

every step she makes towards person-hood is form her decision to be a mother. she care’s for these children because that’s what she was made to do and she owns that, to the point that as i have already said she turns against her creators wishes in ‘the day that wasn’t’.

she gets her strength for being a mother it’s her identity and she love’s it because she is no longer a thing, a robot or vacuum cleaner you can throw in a closet 

she’s someone’s mother.

but when her kid’s are gone she dose get lonely she said so herself in so many words (about painting)

but she’s there for them and they love her and that’s the one thing that Hargreeves never expected, when he set up his little plan to get them back together and take Grace down as his murderer. he never thought for a moment that the Kid’s would try and protect Grace (see my post about Diego’s Day) and that lead to his plan failing (also he’s an ass-hole)

so by embracing motherhood Grace able to turn her prison into her freedom and her programming into her life and she did it all without taking a step outside.

so when Grace answer Diego’s question of why she did what she did all theses years with

“because being your mother is the greatest gift of my life”

she meant it, boy oh boy did she mean it