#but i will soon. will draw a little guy version of him. I need to draw a wedding couple I promised someone soon too though !
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iliothermia · 1 year ago
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Missing Azoulay..
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world0fmadness · 4 months ago
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HONEY HAMILTON
lewis hamilton x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter
♡ how winnie hamilton / honey came to be!
୨୧ just some really fluffy girl dad stuff with lewis <3
♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here
reading music recommendations: no moon at all by julie london - oceans by new navy
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♡ you found out you were pregnant right around christmas time!
୨୧ to say you were excited to tell lewis would be an understatement…
♡ you were practically bouncing off the walls, thinking of cute ways to tell him! he noticed how smiley you were but didn’t comment on it, figuring you were just excited for christmas
୨୧ you decide to wait until christmas day to tell him, preparing a little box with a miniature version of lewis’ race suit inside reading “ mini hamilton ” on the back, wrapping it and placing it under the tree when you were happy
♡ eventually, christmas rolls around and you tell him to please leave that gift for the last! he’s a little confused but thinks it’s just something really good ( oh yeah, it is )
୨୧ when he finally gets around to it, unwraps it and opens the box… he thinks it’s a little outfit for roscoe at first but when he really pulls it out and looks at it, you can see the gears turning in his head, the exact moment it clicks and his brown eyes light up like the sparkling lights wrapped around your christmas tree
“ are you serious? oh my god… bloody hell, i thought it was for roscoe… c’mere love ” ( you spend at least five minutes just hugging on the floor while he tells you this is the greatest christmas gift he’d ever received )
♡ when you guys tell the other drivers, they’re all so happy for you! they quickly decide between themselves that there can only be one favourite uncle…
୨୧ this leads to way too many gifts, some things that the baby won’t even be able to use until they’re older!
♡ though it does make you and lewis laugh when you walk into the paddock and are immediately bombarded by drivers giving you wrapped gifts
୨୧ george decides he won after he bought a custom made mini replica of lewis’ race car ( you think he won too, i mean it’s just too cute and unique )
♡ lewis is just the absolute best when it comes to you being pregnant, he sort of really wishes you’d sit on the couch with your feet up and a drink in your hand while he paints your nails but if you feel sad just sitting around constantly, he’ll gladly go on walks with you and roscoe around the countryside
୨୧ once on one of these walks, your foot made a weird movement and almost twisted but he caught you as soon as it happened… he swears he felt his heart stop beating in his chest!
♡ when you find out you’re having a girl, lewis is over the moon! he’d be happy with any gender but he can’t wait to have a little girl and do her hair and spoil her rotten and play barbies with her…
୨୧ you both have a little cry in the car outside of the clinic, just so happy to know your baby is healthy and you’re getting a girl… the crying doesn’t last long though, soon enough you’re craving a milkshake with french fries and ask lewis to grab some takeout on the way home
♡ when you’re giving birth, lewis just feels terrible… he can’t handle seeing you in so much pain :(
୨୧ but he comforts you the best he can, drawing patterns on the back of your hand while you almost break his
♡ when you finally give birth, lewis starts crying right along with his baby’s first cry
୨୧ when he does skin to skin, you ogle him from the hospital bed which he quickly takes note of and sends a cheeky wink over to you
“ careful with your eyes love, we don’t need you getting pregnant again just yet… ” ( you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face )
♡ the absolute hardest thing lewis has ever had to go through was winnie’s teething process…
୨୧ he was a MESS! he didn’t know how to cope
♡ he absolutely hated seeing his sweet little baby winnie in so much pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her except keep giving her the ice teething toys :(
“ awh, winnie, i’m sorry, i know it hurts honey, i know… you’re being so strong though hm? my brave girl ” ( you’d make sure to give him lots of reassurance that he’s doing the best he can to help her through it )
୨୧ unsurprisingly, winnie’s favourite cartoon turns out to be winnie the pooh!
♡ she watches it religiously with lewis, constantly letting out airy giggles around her bottle while lewis admires her with nothing but love in his eyes
୨୧ he nicknamed her honey because… well… y’know, winnie the pooh loves honey and she’s as sweet as honey ( not to mention she got his beautiful eyes, brown but almost golden, like a pot of honey ) he thinks it’s pretty straight forward <3
♡ sebastian is a HUGE fan of the nickname, he thinks it’s just adorable and calls her honey bee whenever he comes to visit! he’s her favourite uncle for sure, you guys have trouble getting her out of his arms, she sticks to him… sticks to him like honey <3
୨୧ everytime lewis is abroad for a race, he goes into the city to buy her a new plushie!
♡ it became a ritual between them super early in winnie’s life, he felt horrible for having to leave her for races so he’d bring back a plushie that made him think of her to make up for it and she’d have a piece of him at home whenever he left again
୨୧ her room is absolutely full to the brim with plushies now… she has shelves lining her walls to showcase them! there are at least ten winnie the pooh plushies
♡ when she’s old enough to come abroad to races with him, you do take her! the plushie collecting doesn’t stop there though, he just takes her with him to the stores to pick her own plushie!
୨୧ her absolute favourite places to go are countries with big beaches
♡ she’s a major beach baby! when you took her to a beach for the first time, she was super freaked out by how the sand felt and lewis thought it was adorable… holding her hands and standing her on the warm sand while you cheered her on and recorded from the side
୨୧ but when she got over how different the sand felt and sat down on a towel, she couldn’t stop picking up sand in her tiny chubby hands and watching it fall through the cracks of her fingers
♡ she thinks roscoe on the beach is just the funniest thing ever too, constantly giggling while he attempts to dig a whole in the sand, her happiness only adding to yours and lewis’
୨୧ whenever she brings him little seashells she’s collected, he keeps them! usually he’ll get them made into super nice necklaces or bracelets or just collect a big handful of them and you guys will make it into a cute little art piece to put on the wall <3
♡ he kind of keeps ANYTHING she gives him…
୨୧ if his winnie gave it to him, there’s no way he’s putting it in the bin! piece of string? thank you honey! rock from the driveway? how thoughtful!
♡ all of the random things he’s collected over her toddler years are stored in a big jar that sits on his desk
୨୧ because of how much winnie loves the beach, you and lewis made the decision to move into a house in a beach town!
♡ with the beach basically being in your backyard, you can never get winnie off the beach now… same goes for lewis
୨୧ you’ll walk out of the back door and spot them sitting on a towel together
♡ usually making a sand castle or lewis covering her lower body in sand, moulding it to make her look like a mermaid and taking pictures <3 lewis usually spots you and calls you over
୨୧ christmas time is extremely special to you and lewis since you found out about your little winnie’s existence near christmas and he found out on christmas day!
♡ so you guys go all out for her first christmas! he gets the biggest, most beautiful tree and you decide to make it winnie themed! the ornaments consisting of custom made porcelain winnie the pooh characters and tiny photo frames showcasing pictures from all different times in your relationship… roscoe lays sleeping on the couch in a little reindeer costume
୨୧ lewis holds her on his hip, leaning her up gently and letting her place almost all of them on whilst you take pictures before joining them
♡ when christmas day rolls around, you spend almost the whole day in your pyjamas, relaxing in front of the fireplace! only getting dressed when you go to visit lewis’ parents house for christmas dinner <3 winnie gets dressed up in the cutest little velvet red and black dress with bow in her hair, matching you, whilst lewis wears a sleek but comfy outfit going by the same colour scheme! safe to say his parents were big fans of winnie’s outfit, cooing at her the entire time you were there
୨୧ when the day rolls into night, you guys are home and winnie is put to bed, you and lewis stay on the couch for a bit… just cuddled up with roscoe by your feet, eventually you feel his eyes on you and ask him if he’s okay
“ am i okay? i’m amazing love… just can’t believe i’m here, with winnie and you… i love it, i love you and her so much, you know that? ” ( the soft kisses he placed on your lips after were so full of love, so full of admiration… he was just so content )
♡ you and lewis decided this was the best christmas you’d ever had, just barely beating last christmas because winnie is actually in your arms now
୨୧ lewis and winnie are ALWAYS making you breakfast in bed!
♡ well, lewis is always making you breakfast in bed… winnie is usually just sitting in her high chair at the breakfast counter, letting out high pitched giggles at the mere sight of roscoe trudging around below her feet, lewis leaning over and feeding her tiny pieces of fruit every couple of minutes
“ good strawberry, winnie? yeah? thank you honey, my little food critic ”
୨୧ lewis eventually gets a little tattoo of a honey pot on his upper chest, just above his heart… he says he wanted something that symbolised his love for his honey <3 something that would always make his honey close to his heart…
♡ and close to his heart she is…
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lewishamilton and ynln: winnie’s first christmas, filled with nothing but love and presents for our honey 🍯 🎄 🎁
georgerussell ✔️: did she like my present?! i put a lot of thought into it
> lewishamilton ✔️: yeah, she loved it mate! thanks again, yn says thanks as well
> georgerussell ✔️: only the best for my niece 💪
lewynforever: oh my god… she’s getting so big already
> f1lover: right? i remember when they posted that they were expecting a baby 🥹
> lewynforever: time flies…
sebastianvettel ✔️: sending lots of love to you guys and your little honey bee! have a good christmas lewis and yn - sebastian ❤️
> ynln: thank you sebastian! sending many kisses from honey, merry christmas ❤️
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intotheelliwoods · 2 months ago
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2AL mini AU... the Leoverse.. Leo Generations...
What would their personalities be if they hypothetically did exist?
I actually had storylines in mind for a long while for both Big Leos bigger leo and Poptarts hypothetical little leo! :)
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I decided that if Poptarts timeline DID go to shit... the reason would be due to Triceritons! (remember their damn skull in the krang ship? lmao what if they were still alive)
Anyways, the catch here and what makes this dynamic different is that, Poptart would not tell his little leo at all about Sprout. Not even a peep.
Poptart would also be all over this poor little leo constantly to the point of the little leo getting super annoyed. Poptart on the other hand is constantly cheery and upbeat and a giant nuisance! It is not until Poptart finally has some big mental breakdown, and tells his little leo about Sprout and the whole cycle, that the walls break and they can finally bond closely as a duo
Poptart would also, dub his little leo, Pudding. Banana Pudding. Why not.
Anyways Big Leos bigger leo is a bit of a darker story so, I am putting it under a cut, huge warning for character death:
Short version: Big Leo gets a grand total of 3 minutes with his bigger self, before said bigger self dies in his arms
Long version: I have had this one off comic in my head for so long but dont really know how to draw it and I kept thinking it was too dark to draw anyways so... I never drew it But the premise is...
It begins around the start of the Krang apocalypse in Big Leos timeline, him (still has the arm, age 18-20ish) and his brothers are all in some meeting frustrated not knowing what to do, eventually Leo decides he needs a break to think and heads off into another room and sits against a wall
A portal blue opens besides him, and out comes out his bigger self! Leo is freaked as shit before he realizes, oh, this guy is hurt. Leo goes to help his bigger self who is on the floor trying to crawl and check the damage since the guy was losing a lot of blood and it looks like a lot had already been lost
I do not have the exact dialogue down but, it is something along the lines of Bigger Leo insisting "dont worry about me, I need to warn you something, its amazing I made it here at all and.... I am sorry it looks like I showed up too late and...." He then looks into Leos eyes and becomes less tense, he goes "hey..... teacup, its good to see you before melting in for a hug. Leo hugs back and sobs, while the bigger leo soon after starts going limp..
Eventually Leos brothers would find where he hid after he stormed off to see the aftermath to the scene, they would take bigger leo over to their med bay maybe but it would be too late, and trying to get Leo away from the body was a nightmare, Leo could not stop staring
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Did I just come up with the Teacup nickname while writing this all down? Yes.. yes I did....
Do you see why this might be too dark for a comic lmao?
This would also explain why Big Leo made no mention of this whole situation to Sprout, I dont think Sprout would have even wanted to know
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justporo · 1 year ago
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Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav
Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!
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(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)
You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts
When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy
Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?
When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"
Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."
Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something
Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced
Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")
Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much
One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses
Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...
This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)
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dixons-sunshine · 8 months ago
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daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️
Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine*
Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.
Genre: Fluff
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge
Warnings: None.
Word count: 965
A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.
Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.
It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
“No, Daddy. You can't.”
“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”
Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”
“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.
Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.
You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.
“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.
Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.
“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.
Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.
You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.
“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.
Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.
“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”
Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”
You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.
“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”
“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.
She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.
You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.
“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”
Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”
“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.
“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”
“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”
You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”
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4xiaojun · 2 years ago
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DEAR DIARY, I HATE JUNGWON !
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SUMMARY | you hate jungwon- like a lot. everyone at your school knows it at this point, so why is it the minute you see him shed a tear, you feel bad? with this new found guilt, you're able to see new sides of jungwon that your anger blinded you from before. it doesn't take you long to realise that you don't hate these new sides of him as much as you'd like to.
PAIRING | jungwon x fem!reader
WC | 18.2k
WARNINGS | profanity, violence, vandalism, mentions of alcohol & sex
FEATURING | second lead sunghoon, heeseung is mentioned & ITZY
TAGLIST | unofficial taglist i just need the hype pls @tyunni @geombyu @yjwfav @junityy @jaeyunverse @ijhyo @equalheart @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @fairybinie
A/N | before u come at me for plagairising I AM HYUKAAS OKAY THIS IS MY FIC AHAHA IT'S A REPOST initially i was going to rewrite this but u all loved the og version so i'm going to give u the og version i literally have not changed a word. u guys gave this a lot of love on my old acc so i hope u enjoy :)
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you: wtf
jung_1: ?
you: chemistry club??? really?
jung_1: i wanted the piano club
you: so what? me going isn't going to stop u
jung_1: u think i wanna see your face every day after school? 
class is enough smh
you: so u signed me up for chem?
jung_1: it was the only one left lol
you: stfu
jung_1: k lol
From what you can remember, Jungwon hasn't always been like this. You've tried to sit down and pinpoint a date back to when this all started, but the best you could come up with was when he blew out your candle at your eleventh birthday party. That was the first and last time you had ever invited him over to your house.
The two of you are neighbours, and yet you've never had a single decent conversation with the guy in your entire life. Ever since the two of you were little, Jungwon always found a way to laugh at you, talk shit about you or do something to purposely annoy you. Your friends always warned you not to do anything back, that he was only doing it to draw out a reaction, but it was so hard not to whenever you saw his stupid face. The fact that he's so popular in school doesn't help either. Whenever you complain about him to anyone, you're always met with the same thing: "But he's so nice to me." "He's not like that with me." "You must have done something to upset him, Jungwon is the sweetest."
Yeah, sweetest pain in your ass. There is literally nothing about him that you like. It's clear to everyone that you hate Jungwon. 
-
Sitting on your chair, you rest your chin on your palm as you stare at the whiteboard. You're fuming, to say the very least. Written on the board are everyone's names under the club they'd be joining as soon as the bell rings. Yours is supposed to be under piano club but instead it's under chemistry with only one other person who signed up. You barely even know who he is.
"Who's Sunghoon?" Your friend, Yuna, whispers.
You recognise the name (being in the same school for 3 years, it would be kind of rude not to) but you don’t really know who he is. “I think it’s the guy that ice skates.”
"He's so cute," Yuna gawks, "you're lucky you're gonna be alone with him for the rest of the year." 
You scrunch your face at your friend, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, doing chemistry." Fuck Jungwon, signing you up for a club that you're already failing in class, just so he can go to piano. You purposefully ran to the piano club stand so that you could sign it before him, but that asshole must have rubbed out your name and written his instead. As much as you despise him, you have to admit that was a clever thing to do. 
Yuna slaps you lightly, "Maybe you can get him to tutor you for free. I heard he gets people to pay him ₩75,000 per hour."
"No, I'm pretty sure the point of chemistry club is to have fun. He's probably gonna be a nerd the entire time," you grumble into your palm, already miserable about the hours and hours you're going to have to spend with a science nerd. There must have been dozens of clubs with spaces still available; Jungwon could have picked another music club, a sports club, literature, art, history, debate, politics, or even maths for God's sake. But the boy chose chemistry. He knows that you're failing all three of your sciences, so not only did he remove you from your favourite club, he put you into your worst enemy—second to Jungwon. God, did you want to pull out his stupid black hair right then.
“You’re not going to let him win this one, are you?” Yuna deadpans, probably bored from your endless war with Jungwon. You don’t blame her, if the tables were turned, you’d probably say the same things she does. “Just leave it.” “If you ignore him he’ll stop.” “Be the bigger person.” Blah blah blah. It would be humiliating to let Jungwon get away with anything. You can’t even imagine it, coming into school everyday and hearing him laugh at you as if he has the upper hand. You would never ever let that happen, not even over your dead body.
Brushing your hair out of your face, you chuckle breathlessly. “As if.” There is absolutely no way in hell that you would let Jungwon get away with ruining your after school club for the rest of the year. You had to come up with something big, something that would make him suffer just as much—no, more—for the whole year, too.
-
Sadly, you didn't have enough time to come up with a plan.
"Okay, so why is a fluoride ion bigger than a sodium ion?" 
You groan loudly, whacking your head against the table for what feels like the fiftieth time. You've been in this room for ten minutes with Sunghoon, and he's already managed to make it boring as hell. Optimistic, you came into this room hoping that Sunghoon would come up with some cool science-y project for the two of you to do. Instead, his idea of fun is extra homework. The guy seriously brought question packs for you two to do for a whole hour. 
What a joke.
"Sunghoon, why are you asking me like I know?"
He gives you a judgemental look, and at this point you're too bored to care about how stupid he thinks you are. You should be practising the piano and making keyboard remixes on the iMacs, not memorising the periodic table with a nerd. 
"Come on," he breaks into a nervous giggle, "this is like, the third question. We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."
No. There's no way he's taking this club seriously. Dramatically, you push back your chair and glare at him. "You know what, I'm going to go get something to drink. You answer some questions while I'm gone, yeah?" You fake smile at him, unable to look at his nerdy face any longer. God, you hate science kids.
Skipping out of the classroom, you make your way to the vending machine. You need a warm drink to calm your stress down but the cafeteria is too far away so a bottle of apple juice should do. Anything that gives you an excuse to stay away from Sunghoon so that you can focus on your plan to get your revenge on–
"Oh, Y/N! What a coincidence!"
There it is, that dreaded, child-like voice you've grown to hate. Turning around, you're met with his half closed eyes and grin so upturned you can see his baby teeth. If you weren't in the middle of paying for your drink you would have slapped that smirk right off his face. Okay, maybe not, but it's really pissing you off. 
"Yeah right, you probably came here to laugh at me." You grumble, fumbling with the vending machine that's choosing not to be on your side today. 
He smiles again, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging like the oh so innocent boy he is. "I just wanted to check up on how you're doing in your new club. I understand, Y/N," he puts a hand on his chest, pouting, "I really do. Chemistry isn't for everyone."
You whip your head at him immediately, causing him to snort into his hand and break into a laughter that echoes in the empty hallway. "Wow, Jungwon, you're so funny. Don't think for a second that I'm going to let you get away with this."
He comes closer and leans his elbow on the machine so that his head is right above yours, his eyes locking right onto you. Every time he gets close, you're reminded of when Yuna tells you to take a good look at him to see what all the girls in your school sees. But all you can see is an arrogant, stuck up piece of shit—his only entertainment being getting on your nerves. You can see why someone would find him attractive. But his personality is so strong that it practically covers all of his charm to you.
"Admit it," he laughs, "you can't beat me this time. This is one of the best things I've done, I'm kinda' proud of this one. I mean, nothing beats the–"
"Shut up, I am going to beat you. As soon as school's over, I'm coming up with something." You scowl, punching the vending machine so that it will let your bottle fall.
Jungwon coos at you, finding this whole situation amusing. "Aw, is it that hard that it's taking up all your brain space?" He asks in a baby voice. "You can't think of a plan better than mine because you're so busy trying to figure out what O stands for?"
Too focused on the stupid machine, you ignore the menacing voice coming from your left. You've smacked it, shaken it, kicked it, you're not really sure what else there is to do.
Jungwon pushes you out of the way and resets your order, making your jaw drop as you see your bottle that was so close to falling go back to its spot. You shove him back, annoyed that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's stronger than you. "Hey, that was–"
Jungwon sighs dramatically, before bringing out his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a credit card.
"Show off." You mumble, crossing your arms as you watch him dial his order.
"The machine clearly doesn't like you." He smirks, as his coke falls immediately.
You try to hold back how shocked you are, and the urge to ask him to order for you. But with the way Jungwon snickers at you, you can tell he already knows. It isn't like he's going to order for you anyway.
And you're right, because here he is, popping open his can and sipping it right in front of you. He's acting like he's in a commercial for the drink, all just to wind you up. But you can't let him win, you'll never let him win. So you stay, and watch him drink until the last drop and walk away slowly. 
Absolute pain in your ass.
Dear diary,
I hate Jungwon.
You're starting to get sick of starting all your diary entries with the same thing. Jungwon isn't even here; you're in your room, alone. There's nothing to remind you of him. Yet every night, you sit at your desk and scribble in your diary. And every night, you start off each entry reminding you that you hate him.
You flip through your diary entries of the past few weeks, and they're all starting to blur together. Each entry is almost as similar as the last. It's all the same thing—you hate Jungwon. You see him in the morning of school, your mood changes. You're reminded of him in your chemistry club, you get angry. You walk behind him on the way home from school, the two of you are arguing. 
When the hell is this going to end? 
To be honest, thinking about this is just making you hate him even more. The worst thing about this is that you can't even walk it off like you usually do at school. You're used to pacing the school corridors or the track field whenever he makes you really mad. But outside of school, you always meet him. It's either him, or his annoying and inappropriate older friends, or his evil dog. You'd rather rot in your room than risk having to waste your energy fighting with him, or running away from his dog, or pulling your skirt down from his friends. 
You're trapped. He gets to enjoy his life while you're trapped at home, writing “I hate Jungwon” in your diary every single day. The power this guy holds over you is huge, and you just can't wait to move out to college to finally get rid of him.
Walking down the hallway, you bump into your chemistry partner of the past two weeks. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen this boy outside of the chemistry club, so seeing him now, walking tall, hands in his pockets and a lot of other students around him was quite a shock. You really thought he was nothing more than a nerd. 
As soon as Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he smiles widely and you can’t help the way your heart flutters a little at that. Did Jungwon really make you so angry about chemistry that you never noticed how good looking Sunghoon is? Or are you just that bad at it that you had no time to focus on Sunghoon’s looks? As he walks away from his friends and towards you, you gulp, brushing down your hair and skirt with your palms that are starting to sweat. You see this guy every single evening, what difference is it now? 
“Hi Y/N,” he smiles, one hand sitting attractively in his pocket and another rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hi,” you reply, but your voice comes out as barely a whisper. You’re a little frightened at how shy you are in front of Sunghoon right now, when you were literally cursing him off in your head yesterday because he laughed at you for not knowing an equation. 
He chuckles, and you swear your heart flips at the way his eyes crease when he does. “You know, I was starting to think that you didn’t even go to this school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”
Well, at least the feeling is mutual. “Yeah, me neither. I didn’t realise you’re kinda popular.” You say as you eye his large group of friends that are all waiting for him. “It must be the ice skating, right?” You joke, mentally slapping yourself for being rude.
Sunghoon laughs anyway, and he leans forward when does, making your heart nearly jump out of your chest. “Yeah, either that or my brain.”
“Nerd.” You playfully roll your eyes, finally being able to mix together the Sunghoon that gets all excited when he’s got a hard question right, and the Sunghoon that’s standing in front of you right now.
A voice interrupts the two of you. He always does. Whenever you manage to find a little bit of peace at school, Yang Jungwon always finds a way to ruin it. You’re so close to getting him charged for stalking at this point. Both you and Sunghoon turn around to see who was clearing their throat, and you almost growl when you do.
“What do you want?” You snap, not giving him the time of day.
Jungwon tilts his head with an offended look on his face and a hand on his heart like he always does. “That’s rude, Y/N, I was just–”
“She said what do you want.” Sunghoon deadpans beside you out of nowhere.
Jungwon furrows his brows, as do you. Nobody has ever come between the two of you bickering before, this was new to the both of you. You decided to stay quiet and see what Jungwon would say, a little nervous at how this might all play out. 
“What?” Jungwon chuckles, jutting out his chin to make himself appear taller. The two are practically the same height, but something about Sunghoon’s figure makes him seem so much taller than Jungwon. Are you about to witness an alpha brawl out?
Sunghoon doesn’t move, you don’t even think he’s breathing right now. His eyes are trained on Jungwon’s with a glare so intense even you’re a little scared. “Is there something you need to say to Y/N?”
Jungwon’s brows remain furrowed as his eyes narrow and an annoyed look spreads across his face. How ironic, he’s starting to look like you. You don’t think you’ve seen Jungwon this physically frustrated since the time his bike broke when he was thirteen and he tried to kick it but ended up spraining his ankle. He always looks amused. No matter the situation, Jungwon always has a smile on his face. Seeing him like this—threatened—caught you a little off guard.
“I can say whatever the hell I want to her, pretty boy.” He muttered, his face inches away from Sunghoon’s.
Someone behind you whispers something about their sexual tension, almost making you snort at the scene. You have to purse your lips together to stop yourself from laughing, because now you can’t unsee it.
“Well, too bad we have somewhere to be, don’t we, Y/N?” Sunghoon turns to you, and all of a sudden you can feel everyone’s eyes focusing on you.
You giggle awkwardly, before making eye contact with Jungwon. He’s never glared at you like this before, and for the first time you can think of, you feel small in front of him. “Uh, yeah, we should, uh, get going.”
Sunghoon grins at Jungwon as soon as you speak, and barges past his shoulder aggressively before pulling you by your wrist to go and follow him. For some reason, though, you can’t help but turn around to see Jungwon standing there, already looking right at you. 
-
“Sooo,” you sit on a desk as Sunghoon closes the door to the empty classroom the two of you are hiding in behind him, “you gonna’ explain what just happened?”
Sunghoon leans on the desk right in front of you and looks at you blankly, like what just happened didn’t happen at all. “What? You didn’t like it?”
“Like what? Jungwon’s probably going to be so mad because of this.” It’s true, the bike incident when he was thirteen led to him being extra rude for the whole time he was injured. You figure this time it’s his pride that’s hurt, so he’s going to lash out at you until he makes himself feel better. You haven’t even gotten back at him yet for the chemistry club situation, so you really don’t want to be dealing with a moody Jungwon; you’re scared of how creative he’s going to be.
Out of nowhere, Sunghoon lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back in vexation as he does. “Come on, Y/N, aren’t you bored of it?”
Confused, you answer. “Of what?”
“This whole cat and mouse deal you have going on with Jungwon? I remember being in the same class as you in our freshman year of high school, and everyone in the class was sick and tired of you two bickering everyday. I thought it’d blow over eventually. How are you still letting this go on?” 
You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. Of course you’re tired of it. Of course you want it to end. Of course you want nothing to do with Jungwon and you want a peaceful last year of school to focus on your exams and college. Of course you want to be able to hang out with your friends without thinking about Jungwon. Of course you want to write in your diary without mentioning him. Of course you’re sick of this all. But how the hell are you supposed to end it? You hate his guts and he hates yours. His pride may be thick but yours is definitely thicker.
This situation reminds you of the time you did try to be nice to Jungwon once, with the hopes all of this mess would end.
Your mum just got off the phone and suddenly bursted her way into the kitchen. A little startled at her fast movements, you followed her and sat on the counter. “Mum? What’s wrong?” Panicking, she gathered different ingredients and kitchenware to cook something, and you couldn’t be any more confused. “Mum! What’s going on?”
“The Yang family,” she started, already mixing away two eggs, “their son is sick. This is the only time she has ever asked me to do anything, Y/N. That family has looked down on us ever since we moved here, and not once has Mrs Yang ever asked for help. But she’s away, and her boy is at home sick without anyone to feed him. If I don’t make a good impression on that snobby little boy, they’ll think we’re incapable and cruel human beings. I have–”
“Okay, okay,” you laughed, not really thinking much of it. As far as you could care, Jungwon could starve. “As long as I’m not the one delivering it,” you mumbled, leaving the kitchen.
Of course you were the one delivering it.
Releasing a long sigh from the pit of your chest, you tried to put aside your pride and hatred to drop off the tray of food for Jungwon. You tried to remind yourself to have some humanity, that he was sick and alone and needed some food. The only thing that managed to help you push through was imagining him begging on his knees for food from you and you holding the tray away from his sick hands’ reach. A little evil, but it helped you press his doorbell.
When Jungwon opened the door, you could feel your heart sink to the ground. All those mischievous thoughts in your mind about teasing him flew out of your mind as soon as you got a good look at his face. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were red and glassy. He looked frail, like a single touch could knock him over. You gasped when you saw him, and immediately took a step inside to go and help him anyway you could.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” You asked, placing the back of your palm on his head that was drenched in his sweat. “Oh, my God, you’re boiling. Jungwon, take your coat off.” Placing the tray on the ground, you tried to help him take off his coat but he wouldn’t budge. Looking back at him, he had a disgusted look on his face.
“What the hell are you doing? My mum said you came here to give me food, not baby me.” He shrugged his coat back on to stop it from sliding off his shoulder and snatched the tray up from the ground.
“What? I’m trying to help-”
“Who asked you to? Piss off, Y/N.”
Standing outside of his house, you were shocked. You were just trying to help him. You put aside the feelings you two had towards each other because he was sick. Even sick Jungwon is an asshole, you thought. That was when you made a mental note to never be nice to this guy ever again. He didn't deserve it.
“Y/N?” Sunghoon waves his hand in front of yours, forcing you out of your daydream. 
You shake your head, “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?”
Sunghoon stares at you for quite a while without saying anything, letting you scan his features freely. His dark hair extends at the back of his neck, kind of like a mullet, and it suits him a lot. His eyebrows are sharp, and you inwardly frown at how they look better taken care of than yours. His eyes aren’t anything special, but they’re looking at you intently right now; they look heavy, like he has a lot to say. Sunghoon’s lips, however, God you could stare at them forever. They’re so pink and plumpy, he’s definitely a good kisser.
“Are you staring at my lips right now?” Your eyes snap back to Sunghoon’s eyes in horror that he caught you. He laughs at your reaction, so you follow, covering your mouth with a hand. “So what’s the deal with you and Jungwon?” He asks after the two of you have calmed down. 
You shrug, wanting to avoid his question since you already ask yourself that every single day. “Nothing, really.”
“So, you just argue for fun? Masochism, I like it.” He chuckles, and you dart your eyes at him. “No, no I’m just saying, if you can’t even tell me why you two argue, what’s the point of doing it?” 
It’s a genuine question. It’s a question Yuna has asked you, your teachers have asked you, the other girls in your friend group have asked you, your parents have asked you, but most importantly one that you’ve asked yourself countless times. And you’re annoyed because the answer is there is no answer. You don’t ever remember doing anything to offend Jungwon when he first moved into your neighbourhood or your school. You just remember him being a little shit, thinking he could walk all over and bully you. But your dad brought you up differently, to stand up for yourself. That’s why Jungwon’s always on offence, and you always seem to be on the defence.
“I never start anything,” you look at Sunghoon, and you find it heartwarming how he’s listening so intently, “He’s always the one that approaches me, so I just bite back. If I never did, I would be crushed by now.” You explain, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve.
“So Jungwon’s a bully?” Sunghoon asks, and your body suddenly feels tons heavier. You hate that word, it just doesn’t sound right. 
“No, not a bully.”
“Sounds like it.” Sunghoon shrugs. “He’s mean to you so you’re mean back. Except it’s been going on for years.”
You get up from the desk and sit on another, feeling a little uncomfortable with this situation. “Um, I guess? It doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just becoming repetitive at this point. Today’s the first day he didn’t say something stupid. It was relieving, you know.” You explain, a smile unconsciously growing on your lips. 
“Don’t worry,” Sunghoon comes over, his wide chest blocking your field of vision, “now that you’ve got me around, he won’t bother you as much.”
-
Dear diary, 
I had fun today.
It’s only half way through your diary entry that you notice you didn’t start it off with the infamous “I hate Jungwon.” Actually, reading the entry made you realise how little you even saw him today. The only time you spoke to him was when you were with Sunghoon. How long has it been since the two of you didn’t have a petty argument? You find yourself smiling down at your diary, a wave of relief washing over your body at the thought of Sunghoon being your first step to freedom. 
You also find yourself smiling when you started scribbling down how fun your chemistry club was today. You and Sunghoon barely even finished a question, the two of you talking and laughing the entire time. He even promised that if he was ever free, he’d give you occasional free tutoring for chemistry. Life would be so much easier if Jungwon was more like Sunghoon, wouldn’t it?
Somebody should have warned you that your happiness is short lived, because while you were giving Yuna a detailed update of everything to do with Sunghoon, Jungwon’s voice echoed behind you. You promise yourself that one day, you need to creep up behind him and his friends and cut them off because this was really starting to piss you off.
You and Yuna turn around, both you offering him the exact same defeated look. 
“That Sunghoon guy,” Jungwon starts, taking slow steps towards you. “Since when did you two get close?”
Yuna scoffs loudly, putting a hand on her hip. “Why? You jealous, Yang?” Yeah, as if he would be. He’s probably jealous of you, seeing that tension between them yesterday.
Jungwon laughs sarcastically before turning back to you so fast you had to flinch your head backwards. He was a little too close for your liking so you stepped back. “Yeah, you wish. No, I’m just asking because he’s an asshole, and I don’t want to have to talk to him every time I wanna annoy you.” 
You push his shoulder away from you and laugh in disbelief. “Well, why don’t you just stop trying to annoy me then, huh?” You could tell what you said threw Jungwon off guard a little by the way he twitched his brows. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him take a second to come up with something to say, usually it’s second nature to him. You smirked, thanking God for giving you the upper hand today. “Aww, are you insecure, Jungwon? Does Sunghoon make you insecure?” You ask in that irritating baby voice he always uses on you. “Are you jealous because you’ll never have hair as good as his? Or because you’ll never be as good looking as him? Are you sad that–”
“Y/N, I’m not the one that attracts the opposite sex through pity.” 
That shuts you up completely, and your confidence withers to bits. He’s got that same disgusted look on his face as that day you went to visit him. It’s not like he’s never said something as harsh as that before, so you’re not really sure why this is affecting you so much. As embarrassing as it is to admit, that really hurt.
“First, he has to witness how horrible you are at chemistry. Then he saw you speaking to me, and probably felt bad for you. And let’s not even mention your looks.” Jungwon continues, peeling off every layer you’ve been forced to wrap around yourself ever since you met him. Slowly, he’s stripping away your pride, your dignity, and even your self esteem. “You think I’m jealous of a guy that sleeps around so much he probably has STDs? I think our fighting has made you forget that I also get girls, Y/N. I just don’t flout them for attention like he does.”
“Let’s go,” Yuna whispers, tugging on your sleeve. Your eyes are on the ground, unable to meet Jungwon’s. You’ve never felt so insignificant and helpless in front of him before, your body is unable to catch up with all these new emotions. “Come on, Y/N.”
The two of you are walking down the hallway, making your way to the bathroom. Tears are pooling in your eyes, something Jungwon has never managed to make happen. You feel so stupid, so stupid for letting him break you after all these years. All these years you wasted arguing with him almost every single day of your life. For what? What did either of you get out of it? You’ve never even stopped for a second to consider the words that you two were saying to each other, how much you were hurting each other. Well, you doubt you’ve ever really hurt Jungwon. He’s probably jumping up and down right now, cheering at the thought of finally winning. You just hope this means that it’s all over. You’re exhausted.
“Y/N?” Sunghoon’s voice appears just as you’re about to follow Yuna into the bathroom. 
You feel your breath grow heavier at the sound of his voice, humiliation rippling throughout your body. Maybe that’s why this affected you so much. Maybe it’s because Jungwon was calling you an idiot for thinking Sunghoon liked you. Because apparently he’s just another popular boy. And because apparently, he's just been fooling you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurriedly, he walks up to you and places a hand atop your head, his doe eyes boring right into yours. You want to push him away so hard and tell him to go find another girl to play with, but all you can do is stare back at him. “Look, come here.” He pulls you away from the safe space of the female bathroom and right into the disabled ones. 
You don’t know why, but as soon as Sunghoon locks the door, your tears start falling against your will. On instinct, you turn away and bring a hand to stop yourself from sobbing audibly. If what Jungwon said is true, you cannot let Sunghoon see you crying. You’ve read enough romance books to know that bad boys love it when a girl is vulnerable. But Sunghoon doesn’t speak; you’re not even sure he moves. The room is silent, albeit your quick breaths and occasional sobs. At this point, you’re just letting your body move on its own. Your mum always tells you it’s best to cry it out, to let your emotions ride out their course. So you decide to stay there and continue to cry into your already soaked hands. 
Once you’re done wiping away your cheeks and rubbing your eyes, you make your way to the mirror to see what you look like. If Sunghoon wasn’t in the room you would have cried all over again just from seeing your reflection. “Ugh, I’m a mess.”
Sunghoon giggles, and lifts himself up from leaning against the door to come stand behind you. Gently, he brushes away strands of your hair from your face and fixes your collar for you. “I think,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “you look just fine.” 
-
Dear diary,
Unfortunately, I still hate Jungwon.
“No, why are you starting it like that again?” Yuna huffs beside you, probably disappointed at your relapse. It’s been a week since Jungwon made you cry, and it’s been a calm week, too. You never told Sunghoon what happened, but he’s been staying by your side at school since. He likes to call himself your personal bullmastiff, and that he scares away Jungwon who’s only a sheep. Although you’re still terrified that what Jungwon said about Sunghoon being a manwhore is true, there’s still a part of you that hopes it isn’t. You’re hoping he isn’t just hanging around to get in your pants.
“Because I’m mad, Yuna. If we’re really ending this, I can’t be the only one that’s upset about it. I need to think of one final thing to get back at him. Something that will really hurt him.” You explain, really disappointed in how much you’ve been lacking this school year. You haven’t gotten him back once, and it’s frustrating you.
“Hm, what about his motorbike?” Yuna asks, an evil glint to her eyes.
“No.” You shake your head. “No way. I would love to, believe me–”
“So why not?”
“Because his parents would kill me!”
“Oh come on, that bike costs to them what a piece of gum costs to us, Y/N.”
“No, I heard him tell his friend. You know that pervert, Heeseung? Yeah, they were talking about it and Jungwon was saying that it’s from a limited series and that his parents had to fly out to Thailand to bid for it.” You whisper, for some reason you don’t really know. “Thailand, Yuna.”
“Okay, why don’t we wear masks? We can get Sunghoon to help us, too. You know, like them ski masks.” Yuna motions the mask with her hands, a persuasive look on her face. You’re tempted to, you really are. The thought of taking the only thing that Jungwon seems to have human feelings for away from him is very tempting.
“But wait, he wouldn’t know it’s me.”
“Uh, Y/N, that’s a good thing? If he knows it’s you, you’d be sued.” 
“Oh, yeah, true.”
“We can enjoy our victory from afar, okay?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Okay.”
-
This may be the worst idea you’ve ever thought of in your entire life.
Here you are, standing in between Sunghoon (who Yuna had to convince for hours to come along) and Yuna. The three of you are wearing your ski masks, but Sunghoon is too much of a cheapskate to buy a new one so he’s wearing his dad’s bright blue mask and making the three of you look stupid. 
“Okay, on the count of three–”
“No wait!” Sunghoon’s voice squeaks as he whisper-shouts.
You and Yuna whip your heads into his direction, stunned at his voice crack. “Sunghoon, you’re the only guy here!” You whisper-shout back. “You can’t be the scared one.”
“I have never broken the law before, if I get caught doing this my parents are going to kill me, Y/N.” He panics, yet neither of you can take him seriously with his idiotic mask on. 
“What are you talking about? I’m pretty sure you broke about five laws driving us here in your mum’s car.” You snap, before looking at Yuna. “But maybe he’s r–”
“No, guys it’s now or never.” Yuna whispers, before tugging on both yours and Sunghoon’s sleeves, running ahead. Your veins are booming so loud you’re worried someone will be able to hear it. Arriving at the tail of the motorcycle, you raise a trembling finger to touch it. You gasp when you do, already mentally hearing the sounds of sirens coming closer and closer.
Yuna pulls out a hairpin and shoves it into the keyhole of the motorcycle while you and Sunghoon crouch and cower behind her, failing to keep a proper look out. This feels so wrong, but it’s too late to go back now. Sunghoon’s stupid mask is probably plastered all over the CCTVs already. You’ll probably need a miracle to not get yourself landed in prison.
Yuna whimpers as she struggles to switch on the engine. You’re starting to panic even more now, the thought of this all going horribly wrong circling your mind repeatedly. “It’s not working!” She yells, and you and Sunghoon look at each other with wide eyes. 
“Go help her!” You motion at him, your heart drumming louder than it ever has before.
“What do you mean go help her, why don’t you go help her?!” Sunghoon doesn't budge and only tightens his hold on the tail of the motorcycle.
“No, I’m keeping look out!”
“No you’re not, you’re looking at me!”
“Will you two shut up and come help me?!” Yuna screams, and you shoot up to go over and help her. It’s useless, though. No matter how much the two of you twist and turn the hairpin, the engine doesn’t turn on. “Why isn’t it working? We practised this like a thousand times!”
“I don’t know! Maybe because it’s a limited edition?!” You scream back, the plan blowing up in your face. 
“Fuck!” Yuna slams the head of the bike in anger as you start to lose control of your breaths. “I think I’ve broken the keyhole.” 
You groan loudly, closing your eyes to think of a way to fix this. Trying so hard to calm yourself down, you attempt to come up with another plan. It’s either that or the three of you need to escape—now
But as always, Jungwon’s voice interrupts you. His timing is probably his only positive attribute.
“Hey!” He barks at the other end of the road, making you and Yuna look at each other like you’ve seen a ghost. He’s running as fast as he can, so much so you can see his forehead shining under the street lights. 
“Let’s ditch the bike!” 
“No! We can’t let this all be for nothing!” 
“Out of the way ladies!” Sunghoon’s voice appears out of nowhere, and you turn to see him standing over the bike with a large pole in his hands. Oh, my God. Instinctively, you and Yuna jump off the bike and run behind Sunghoon to watch him do his dirty work.
You poke out your head, trying to catch your breath and a glimpse of Jungwon. “He’s close, hurry up!”
“No!” Jungwon screams, reaching his arms out, dread written all over his little baby face. “Stop, please!”
Sunghoon ignores him and draws back the pole before slamming it against the metal of the motorcycle. He hits it again and again, parts flying all over the place each time. He yells at every impact, like he was beating up a person. 
Jungwon arrives, and you can't help but notice his breaths are shaky and the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He pulls Sunghoon away from you and punches him right in the jaw, a roar ripping right from the bottom of his lungs. The light sensors of the neighbouring houses switch on, and some neighbours even come out to take a peek. With the rush of the scene flowing through your veins, and the fear that all of this is for nothing, you pick up the pole that fell out of Sunghoon’s hands and hit the bike yourself. Hearing Jungwon beg like that so helplessly for the first time in your life only fuels your anger even more. Each whack, each hit, your mind flashes back to the times Jungwon hurt you, the times Jungwon forced you to build another wall.
“What’s the point of going to the school dance? It’s not like anybody wants to go with you, anyway.” Whoops, there goes the headlight.
“Oh, my God, you might as well go home if you’re going to be dressed like that the entire trip. Stop embarrassing us.” Oh no, the brake is broken.
“You failed chemistry again? Look, guys, she got 10%! What a loser!” Aw man, now the gas tank is leaking.
Before you can damage the bike anymore, Yuna pulls you back into reality. She’s yelling something at you, but your eyes can’t help but focus on Jungwon struggling against Sunghoon’s hold. 
“Please! No, please stop! I’ll give you anything you want, just get away from my bike!” 
He’s crying. 
Your surroundings suddenly blur as Yuna pulls you towards the car you guys came in. She shoves you in while telling you something but you can’t shift your attention from Jungwon who’s now given up and is laying still on the floor. He isn’t even fighting Sunghoon anymore. He’s just still, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes as his tears roll off his cheeks and fall onto the floor.
You made Jungwon cry. You made Yang Jungwon cry.
-
You're ashamed. You can't even step outside your house without making sure your hood is well over your head, hiding your face for anyone to see. There's no way anyone in the neighbourhood could know that it was you, right? You were completely covered; it could have been any two girls and a guy who smashed Jungwon's precious bike and brought him to tears.
Literal freaking tears.
In all the years you two have fought, Jungwon only ever smiles. He grins, or laughs that really annoying laugh where he throws his head back and stamps his feet on the floor. He pretends to be upset by putting a hand on his heart and squeezing his eyes shut, letting out an exaggerated gasp. He pretends to be mad by putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head so far sideways his hair looks like it's about to fall off. Jungwon is expressive, he enjoys winding you up by acting out his emotions—real or fake—dramatically. You've always hated it, but now you're praying that you're going to meet him on your way to school and he'll pretend to whine about how much you hurt him last night.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, waiting at the end of the road for Jungwon to appear. You're not really sure why. What are you even going to say if you see him? You can't even apologise for what you've done, his parents would definitely put you behind bars. The wait is killing you, impatience stirring in your stomach at an outrageous speed. Gulping, you contemplate whether you should go knock on his door or not. Maybe he's oversleeping because he's tired from last night. Maybe if you knock, he'll wake up and nag at you for babying him like he did before.
Without really thinking, you head straight to his front door step with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Breathing in, you press the doorbell. His house is huge, and the noise the doorbell makes almost frightens you out of your skin. The loud ring echoes in your mind loudly as you tap your foot on the ground and keep your eyes locked onto the door. You press it again. And again. And again.
And then you wait.
But Jungwon never comes out. Nobody does. Not him, his sister or his parents. You're even hoping some sort of maid will come and open the door. But nobody does. You're trying not to overthink the situation: maybe he's just being a teenage boy and angry that his bike is broken so he's decided to skip school today. 
The thought calms you down a little bit, so you turn around to leave. While turning back to the entrance, something shiny catches your eye around the corner of Jungwon's front yard. Curious, you scuttle towards it and poke your head around to see what it is. Your heart drops when you do. There it is. Jungwon's motorcycle that you smashed to pieces last night. Laying next to it, is an open box of tools, an unfinished cup of coffee, and Jungwon's jacket that he always wears under his blazer. The guilt at the pit of your stomach spreads around your body, squeezing your heart and scraping at your throat. Did he really stay up all night trying to fix it all by himself? 
Did you go too far?
-
"Come on, you're being weird." Sunghoon crosses his arms, not shifting his gaze away from you.
Usually, you appreciate his attentiveness because it makes you feel special and gets you all shy, but today it isn’t doing you any good. You chuckle breathlessly and pull the sheet of paper towards you. "So I just need to calculate the mass of this mole, right? Using this equation?"
Sunghoon sighs, "Y/N, you know you can tell me what's wrong, right?" 
You look up to meet his heavy gaze, his face already so close to yours. "No? Just because you chose to follow me around at school doesn't mean we're best friends, Sunghoon. It doesn't mean I can pour my heart out to you."
His expression doesn't falter, a blank look sitting on his face. "Then what are we?"
You pause, not really knowing how to answer that question. You're aware that he gives you butterflies, and that you find him attractive. But what about what Jungwon said about him sleeping around? Hasn't Sunghoon stayed around long enough for it to be more than that? Or is that all you guys are - good friends? But then why would Sunghoon ask that question? 
Confused and already emotionally drained from your crime yesterday, you scrunch up the question sheet in your hand and get up from your chair. Without saying a word to Sunghoon, you leave.
-
At home, you’re lying on your couch, flicking through the channels on the television. Nothing is exciting you since you can’t seem to pay attention to anything. There are only two things on your mind right now. Jungwon and Sunghoon.
As for Jungwon, you can’t stop picturing him in that little alleyway beside his house—sweating away, hurting himself trying to fix his motorcycle. He’s probably not eaten any real food in awhile, desperate to get it back to how it was before you and Yuna came up with that stupid plan. You groan into your hands, thinking about how you never thought you’d live to see the day you’d feel bad for Jungwon. Doesn’t he deserve this? Why does this bike mean so much to him? He can just fly out to Thailand and buy another one, right?
Then your thoughts suddenly shift to Sunghoon. If he really is the manwhore Jungwon pinned him out to be, how come he’s been nothing but supportive since you and Jungwon stopped talking to each other? There are no girls, you can’t see them. The only way it would be possible is if he has this whole other life outside of school. The partying, drinking and sex type of life. He said he’s never broken the law before, but he seemed pretty confident driving his mum’s car with one hand on the wheel and another on the radio. Do you even know Sunghoon? Sure, he’s a science nerd and likes to ice skate. But what else is there to him?
You sigh when the sound of the doorbell interrupts your thoughts. It’s 10pm, who could possibly be ringing at this time of night? Groggily, you get up, fixing your bun so you look a bit more appropriate for whoever it is that’s ruining your free time. Peering through the peephole, you’re only met with a man in a black hood who’s purposefully hiding his face from the door. A little worried, you call your mum over. “Mum! There’s a creepy man at the door!”
She hops out of the kitchen with a meat knife in one hand, a frying pan in the other and a terrified look on her face. “You take the knife,” she whispers, “and hide behind me while I hold the pan and see what this guy wants.”
“Wait, why am I holding the knife?” You point at yourself, your mum’s behaviour starting to affect you, too. 
The doorbell rings again and you both flinch. “Because if he sees the knife in my hand he might attack. So you hide behind me, okay? I’m just going to open the door like an inch wide, don’t worry.” Her eyes are wide while she tries to convince you to follow through with her not-well-thought out plan. 
You do anyway. “Okay.”
You take the knife from your mum before the two of you sneak towards the door. Hesitantly, she opens it, and the thought of her life being taken right before you flashes in your mind for a second. Right before she lets out a relieved laughter, a hand on her chest. “It’s just the Yangs’ kid, Y/N. Don’t scare me like that again.”
Jungwon? What the hell is he doing here? You poke your head out from beside her and see Jungwon looking down at his feet that are awkwardly kicking the floor. “I didn’t know it was him, sorry.” You mutter, furrowing your brows at him.
“I am so sorry, Jungwon. Is there something you need?” Your mum asks, widening the door. When he looks up, you can’t help but cringe. His eye bags are heavy, and his lips are so chapped they’re peeling. Not to mention how red and sore his eyes are, he’s struggling to even keep them open. He’s worse than the time you went to give him the tray of food. You don’t even realise that you two are staring at each other silently until your mum speaks up again. “Is something wrong?”
His eyes quickly divert to your mum’s and he clears his throat aggressively. “No, uh, I just wanted to know if your husband is here.”
Your mum shakes her head, “No, he’s visiting his brother right now. He won’t be back for a few days.” 
“Can you call him?” You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungwon speak so meekly before. It’s odd, and the thought that you may have broken him makes your toes curl.
“Yes, yes, what do you want me to say?”
“How to fix a motorcycle brake. I remember that he had one a few years ago, so I thought he’d know.” 
“Oh! Was it your motorbike that got smashed by those teenagers?” Jungwon nods, his eyes falling to the ground again. “Ms Jung showed me her CCTV cameras and how horrible those kids were. Their parents really need to sort them out.” She tuts, pulling out her phone.
Even your mum is disgusted by your behaviour last night. Of course she is, what you did was way out of line. You play with your fingers as the guilt travels further, making you a lot more jittery than usual. “My dad’s break broke once and he showed me how to fix it. I can, uh, help if you want.” It’s the least you can do, an easy repair, indirectly apologise, and throw away this stupid guilt so you can focus on getting your school life back on track. Maybe after you help him fix his bike, the two of you can finally be even and put your pettiness in the past once and for all.
Jungwon only looks you in the eyes, not saying anything. They remind you of Sunghoons’; loud and heavy. 
“Oh, okay, that’s perfect. You go and help him. I’ll bring some snacks later.” Your mum pushes you out of the house, and you curse her for doing so when all you’re wearing is a hoodie, a pair of cycling shorts, and slippers. “Bye!” She waves, shutting the door in your face before you can even speak.
Well, this is awkward. Turning around, you try to put on a smile to Jungwon, but his eyes flicker straight from your eyes to your mouth before he storms back to his house. You follow him with a huff, realising that this is going to be a long hour. Catching up to him, you throw your hood over your head and stuff your hands in your pockets to try and stay warm. “So,” you start, trying to get straight to the point, “if we’re lucky, all you’ll need to do is clean the pistons. You know, those little metal things that open and close w-”
“I know what a piston is.” He grumbles, opening his gate. “I would have done that if that girl didn’t smash it off my bike.” 
Your eyes lower as he unknowingly mentions you, and try to shake off the feeling of guilt again. You never would have guessed this would have hurt him this much. But then again, isn’t that what you wanted? “Oh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “well then this is gonna take a long time.” 
The two of you arrive at the corner, and that’s when you notice there are three more cups of coffee lying next to the bike. You purse your lips, trying to throw away the imagination of him desperately attempting to stay awake, pushing his body well past its limits all in order to fix what you broke. 
“Okayyy,” you whisper, copying Jungwon by getting on your knees, followed by a hiss once you feel the cold rocky ground. Clearing your throat, you turn to him, who still has an emotionless look on his face. You really wish he would do something right now. You wouldn’t even mind it if he made fun of you. Staring at him like this, like an empty shell, is too much to bear. “So, where’s the brake?” You put out your hand, and Jungwon complies by giving it to you. Observing it, you’re relieved that it hasn’t been damaged too much, and that it’s okay to put it back on the bike. “First, we need to take the callipers off the bike.” You don’t explain what it is this time, since he got agitated when you did it before. “Should I do one side and you do the other?” 
He nods, so you crawl over to the other side, and together, the two of you start working on the bike.
After around twenty minutes of silent working, you decide to ask a question that’s been on your mind since the second you saw him cry. “Jungwon?” You ask. He doesn’t respond, but you know that he hears you. “Why don’t you just get your parents to buy you another one?”
It takes him a while to reply, you assume he’s just busy with the clamps. “They can’t. There’s no more on sale.” 
You’re aware that it sounds a bit harsh, but you still push. “Can’t they just buy another brand?” 
Jungwon’s eyes meet yours through the tiny gaps between the motorcycle parts. “I don’t want another one.”
You sigh at his vague responses. “Okay, what about hiring someone to come and fix your bike? Or getting a friend, literally anyone-”
Abruptly, Jungwon throws the clamp onto the floor, the ring of the metal bouncing around your skull. “I didn’t ask you to come and help, you know? You offered. If you don’t want to, there’s nothing stopping you from leaving.” He spits, his eyes piercing into yours angrily. 
You put your hands up in a feign defence. “I’m sorry, I was just asking.” You mutter under your breath, a little shocked at his reaction. “I’m okay with fixing the bike, it just looked like you didn’t wanna ask so I was telling you there are other options.” 
Jungwon sighs, before picking up the clamp and getting back to work. “I know.” He mumbles, and you can hear the piston creaking under the pressure of his clamp hold. “I know there are other options, but I don’t trust any of them with this bike. I’ve known your dad for a while and I remember how much he cared about his bike, so I thought I’d just ask him to help.” The thought of Jungwon trusting your dad over his creepy friends makes you feel a lot better, but the sound of the piston about to snap distracts you.
Crawling back over, you return to Jungwon’s side. You don’t even notice that your thighs are touching each other when you reach out to take the clamp from his hands. He looks at you a little alarmed, but you respond with an awkward smile. “You’re putting too much pressure. You have to unstick one piston at a time, if you do it like that it’ll snap.” You explain, opting to do it yourself to save some time.
“How come you know how to fix a break?” He asks randomly, startling you a little bit. 
You stay focused while you answer him, your eyes not moving from the clamp. “Sometimes my dad teaches me things like this. He says he does it because he doesn’t have a son.”
“What other things has he taught you?” 
Since this is the first real conversation you’ve ever had with Jungwon, you decide not to question why he cares about your relationship with your dad so much.  “How to ride a bike, how to play football, how to put up a shelf, how to fix a laptop that’s had water spilled on it.” You giggle at the last one, memories piling into your head. Jungwon doesn’t say anything else so you turn around to see why. He’s just staring at your hands working with the clamp, so you choose to fill in the tense silence. “The time he broke his break, he called me over while I was studying. I told him that it’s not important since a motorcycle break and a bike break are two completely different things and that this would never come in handy.” You face Jungwon again, and his eyes meet yours. “Turns out it did come in handy.” 
There’s a moment, a long moment of comfortable silence with the two of you staring at each other. For the first time, you notice the shape of his eyes and how delicately pulled out they are. They’re kind of pretty, in a boyish sort of way. You can’t really believe you’ve been staring at these eyes for the past eight years without ever finding yourself swimming in them until now. 
Jungwon scoffs, breaking eye contact before taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m surprised you didn’t turn out heavy handed since you were basically brought up as a boy,” he mutters against the cup.
With that, you unconsciously suck in such a deep breath of air. A wave of relief washes over your body as you let out an incredibly loud laugh at his comment. There he is, the asshole that is Yang Jungwon. You seriously thought you broke him, but hearing him say something so rude wiped away any and all of your doubt. 
He’s back. And you couldn’t be more than happy about it. 
-
Walking into school the next day, you’re a little bit anxious. You’re anxious because:
You might bump into Sunghoon and he might start asking scary questions again
You might bump into Jungwon and have to start fighting again
You don’t want either of those scenarios to happen. So when Sunghoon spots you and says goodbye to his friends, you panic and pull onto your friend’s sleeve. “Quick, pretend we’re having a really serious and private conversation.”
She panics and tries to think of something to say. “Uh, I made out with Sunghoon at Ryujin’s party!” With her eyes shut, in front of everyone in the hallway, your friend, Chaeryeong, admitted to sleeping with Sunghoon. You spot him from the corner of your eye, freezing once he heard what Chaeyoung said, and you wait for him to come over and ask why you two are making up shit about him. He doesn’t. 
“Are you being serious right now? I said pretend, Chaeryeong.” Your hand slips away from hers as you look at her in pure disbelief.
“I’m sorry, it’s been on my mind a lot recently because he’s been hanging out with you so much. So when you said say something serious, that was the first thing I could think of.” She rushes, clearly panicked by your response.
“Wait,” you take a step closer to whisper, “When was this? Recently?”
She gives you a worried look, before turning around to see Sunghoon and then turning back to you. “Last, uh, Saturday?”
Saturday. Last Saturday. That was only four days ago. Four days ago you were FaceTiming him while he was helping you with your physics homework. Four days ago was when you asked if he could help you finally get over the Jungwon situation, and he told you that he really wanted to help because he couldn’t stand to see you so hurt. Four days ago was when you told Yuna you think you have a crush on him.
Stepping away, you give one last glance at Sunghoon. “I can't believe you,” you mutter, before turning around and storming away. You tell yourself the reason why you didn’t go up to him and scream in his face is because of the attention you would have gained, but it isn’t; you’re too scared to face him because you were already warned about him ages ago. As funny as it sounds, you should have listened to Jungwon.
-
“What?! Chaeryeong? Our Chaeryeong?” Yuna chokes on her water, surprised.
“Yeah,” you sigh, scribbling away in your notebook. “I’m not really bothered about that, I mean she can sleep with whoever she wants. It’s just, I really thought there was something between me and Sunghoon.” 
Yuna kisses her teeth before shaking her head. “Even I thought there was. Why is he always with you if he’s sleeping with other girls?” Her body simultaneously shivers with yours. “That’s just gross.”
“Maybe he just sees me as a friend. You know in those romance books where the hot guy who gets all the girls appreciates the girl who doesn’t wanna have sex with him and likes hanging around with her?”
“Y/N, they always end up falling in love.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not happening, is it?” You slouch in your seat. 
Jungwon walks into the room, and you smile at Yuna, happy to know that he’s back on his feet. You wait for him to say the same thing he always does when he walks past you to get to his seat. Anxiously, your foot taps on the ground as you nibble on your bottom lip, your eyes not moving from Jungwon’s.
Yuna taps you and leans in to whisper, “You can see it now, right?” Her eyebrows giggle, a huge smirk on her lips.
You cringe at what she said, refusing to let her silly thoughts get to your head. “Shut up,” you mutter, before turning back to see Jungwon talking to another classmate. You hate to admit it, but your eyes do linger on him a little longer. You can’t help but notice the long, dark strands of hair that almost cover his eyes. His nose and jawline are sharp, contrary to his soft and small lips. Your eyes trail down to his Adam's apple as he speaks, and you watch as it bobs up and down attentively. It’s strange that you’ve known Jungwon for so long, yet you’ve never actually taken the time out of your day to really look at him. Because he’s actually really good looking.
“See?” Yuna giggles, slapping your arm playfully. “You’re staring.”
Your head darts to her direction with wide eyes. “I’m just waiting for him to come over.”
“Nu-uh, you’re finally listening to me. I told you he gets girls.” She motions for you to lean in closer while she whispers. “Last year, I peeked into his locker on Valentine’s Day, and I counted thirteen letters, Y/N. Thir-teen.” 
Thirteen girls gave Jungwon a love letter last year? You scoff, resting your chin on your palm as you look at him again. If they knew what you knew, that Jungwon is a total asshole, you bet they’d run far away from him. “I don’t get it. Is it just because of his looks? Are they that shallow?”
Yuna shrugs from beside you. “Well, I’ve heard a lot of good things about him.”
You laugh sarcastically, “Are you gonna talk about the time he helped that one new student when she dropped her books on the floor again?”
“Well, there’s that. But there are other things, too, that I’ve tried to tell you but you just turn down because you hate him so much. Like the time he stopped a boy from getting bullied. It was so cool, Y/N, he just shoved the bully in his shoulders and looked him right in the eyes and told him to fuck off.” 
Something twists in your stomach at that word. It reminds you of when Sunghoon asked if 
Jungwon is just a bully. You can’t be staring at him now, talking about all the good deeds he’s done and why all the girls in your school have a crush on him. He’s mean. He’s insulted you, belittled you, degraded you. You could go on and on about all the times Jungwon has hurt you and laughed in your face whenever he did. He’s a selfish, spoiled rich kid that derives entertainment from picking on you. And like all your friends warn you not to do, you react, dragging it out longer. Maybe if you just stayed silent in the first place, this would have never continued for so long. 
Blinking, you suddenly realise that Jungwon is batting his eyes at you right in front of your face. You gasp, furrowing your eyes and jerking back once you realise how close his face is to yours. Shit, you spaced out and he caught you staring.
“What you staring at, number 23?” He asks, his old grin back on his face.
“Number 23?”
“Class ranks are up on the board.” He explains, and your heart drops to your feet when you realise what he’s saying. “You know,” Jungwon gets up, hands in his pockets as he peers down at you with that familiar evil glint in his eyes. “I thought signing you up for chemistry club would at least get you into the teens. But you only moved up one spot? One?”
Okay, you may have wanted normal Jungwon back, but did his first strike have to be so harsh? Getting up, you realise your legs are trembling. Something inside of you is telling you not to bite back this time, that it’s not worth it. If you truly want this war to end, then you have to be the bigger person and back down. Pursing your lips, you simply walk past him to follow the crowd of students into the hallway to see the class rankings. 
“Oh. My. God, Y/N. You should have seen the look on his face!” Yuna laughs, but you can’t join her. It was embarrassing to let him talk down to you like that. You wish you said something, but this needs to end. This is the first step you need to take.
“Let’s just focus on our class rankings for now.” You say, approaching the wall. 
Although Jungwon made fun of your rank, you have to hide a smile when you see it. It’s not high at all, but at least you’ve improved. With everything that’s been going on recently, you need something positive to cling onto. You pull out your phone to call your mum about your improvement, excited to hear about how proud she’ll be. 
But a voice from behind stops you. You can feel the heat of his body so close to yours, and your heart immediately starts doing backflips. “23rd? That means I’m going to have to spend a lot more time tutoring you, right?” His voice is uplifted, and that pisses you off even more.
Turning around, you furrow your brows and fold your arms. “Really? Are you just going to pretend that–”
Sunghoon, with his hands buried in his pockets and his lips pursed, shrugs. “I asked you what we are, and you just left.” 
That is very true. You did, quite rudely, leave. You erased that part of your day from your mind, and even avoided writing it down in your diary. All you needed was time, because the following week was when you and Yuna figured out what your feelings are towards him. Sighing, you answer. “I know.”
“I helped you break–” he pulls on your blazer to drag the two of you away from the crowd as he leans in to whisper, “I helped you break Jungwon's bike. I know you think that that's a normal thing for a guy like me, but it isn't. I don't go around, smashing people's things, you know. I did that for you, and all I got was a little thank you text.”
Everything he's saying is true, and that's frustrating you further.
“You can't be mad about who I sleep with, Y/N. I've been hovering around for so long, and still, the only guy you think of is Jungwon.”
“What are you even hanging around for, though? Jungwon he-he told me that you treat girls like trophies. I thought–” The eye contact Sunghoon holds with you is intense, he doesn't turn away once. You're too scared to break it because you've never seen him this serious before. 
“So you believed him over me? Someone that you ‘hate’ over a friend? You didn't even bring that up with me, Y/N!" He whisper-shouts, pressing an arm against the lockers beside him so that he can lower his head to meet yours. “You need to ask yourself what's your deal with Jungwon, because I'm not sure you really know what it is.” Gently, he lets go of your blazer and dusts it down with his hands, causing you to blush intensely. 
“You're gonna keep me up all night because of this, now, you know that, right?” You chuckle sarcastically, keeping your eyes on his hand that's lingering above yours. 
He chuckles back, “I know.” His hand stops hovering, and goes back to his pocket.
Looking up at him, you smile endearingly. “We can still be friends, right? Even if whatever this is doesn't sort out the way we want it to, you'll still be my friend.”
"Ayyyyy,” Sunghoon laughs, but it seems forced, and presses a finger into your shoulder. “You're just saying that for the free tutoring lessons.” 
-
Dear diary,
I hate Jungwon.
You groan into your arms after you realise what you've just written, disappointed in yourself. It's embarrassing to admit that Sunghoon is right, that Jungwon is constantly on your mind. If it's not the awful things he's said, or the stupid pranks he's played, then it's the way he puckers his lips together when he snorts out a laugh, or the way he wiggles his eyebrows at you to try and piss you off. You've probably never even scratched the surface of Jungwon's mind, yet he somehow lives in yours constantly.
A ping from your phone distracts you from your thoughts.
jung_1: my tire popped
you: and?
jung_1:  use your daddy skills to come and fix it
you:  if u think u can jus tell me what to do ???? then you're vv wrong :/
jung_1:  u came before what's wrong this time?
you: im busy
jung_1: so am i but i can't get anything done without my bike
you: u need to get it checked out professionally
ik u have some weird attachment issues to it but fixing the brakes and tires isn't enough to get that thing up and running again
jung_1: well, miss 23, unlike u i have a brain
fixing everything one at a time v slowly will work eventually
patience is key
so can u jus come already
you: what's in it for me?
jung_1: idk wtf
food?
you: do i look like a dog to u
jung_1: idk??? u name it ill get whatever u want
you: ok fine whatever
After you get dressed to go to Jungwon's house, you scribble one last thing into your diary before you go. 
Let's hope that when I come back, I won't be saying that I hate him again.
-
With a bag of food from your mum to give to Jungwon's parents, you ring his doorbell hesitantly. You will never get over the difference between your house and his despite the fact that you two live just a few houses away from each other. While yours is small and cosy with a garden full of roses and apple trees, Jungwon's stands tall—so modern that it doesn't even have a front garden, it's all just rock hard concrete. 
Opening the door you're met with a sour face when Jungwon looks you up and down. “What's that?” He asks, pointing at your carrier bag.
You inwardly sigh, reminding yourself of the trouble he's putting himself through because of you. “Homemade kimbap.” You hand it to him and he takes it cautiously, eyeing the bag like you hid a bomb in it. “Relax, my mum made it.”
Jungwon's head pops right up when you say that, and you swear his lips are trying their best not to pull up into a smile. Clearing his throat, however, he returns to his normal bitter expression and brushes his hair out of his gaze. “Whatever, come inside while I get dressed.” 
It's only when Jungwon mentions it that you look down and notice that he’s only wearing a pair of underwear. Making a mental note to never visit a teenage boy's house unannounced again, you awkwardly hop inside and sit on the kitchen counter that he directs you to wait at. 
While Jungwon is away, you're left with the housemaid. You've always guessed that they had one, yet you've never seen her leave the house before. Anyone could mistake this for slavery, how scary. 
“Are you Jungwon's friend?” She asks, opening the bag of kimbap that you brought. You nod, deciding it's best not to explain your confusing and infuriating situation to Jungwon's housemaid, and she smiles endearingly, taking out the food. “I'm surprised. He's only ever brought those two hooligans over.”
“Jeongseong and Heeseung?” You ask, chuckling.
She laughs with you at the mention of Jungwon's awful friends who you are secretly afraid of. “They're like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, them two. It's nice to see that some of his friends are sane.” As soon as she unwraps and sees the food, however, the housemaid gasps, a repelled look on her face.
“Is everything okay?” You ask, worried.
“Jungwon can't eat this, it isn't fresh.”
You open your mouth to explain that it had only just been cooked a few hours ago, but choose not to. This is Jungwon's rich and snobby lifestyle, there's no point arguing with someone who knows him a lot better than you do.
“What a waste,” she sighs, “I'll just have to throw it away.” You really want to yell at the woman for disrespecting your mother's food, but the thought of Jungwon's parents catching you screaming at their trusted maid through a secret camera and suing you scares you too much to do so.
But just before she's able to throw it away, Jungwon appears in a zipped up coat and joggers, an arm in front of the bin. “No, no, no, no, Mrs Kim, it's okay.” He says softly, a hand resting on her back as he smiles at her.
Smiles. Like, really smiles. He's acting so gentle around her it's scaring you. Lightly, he takes the dish from her hands and settles it on the middle counter opposite you. He doesn't look up, he just opens the tinfoil and lets his jaw drop slightly at the kimbap your mum forced you to roll for him. You'll never let him know that, though.
“Jungwon, it isn't fresh, you'll get sick.” Mrs Kim retorts, but he's already digging one out. You and Mrs Kim both silently watch Jungwon eat his food contently, and you hate to say it but he eats in such a cute way. His cheeks puff out and he takes such small nibbles of the food, like he's savouring it all. 
“Your mum made this?” He asks, his eyes wide. 
A little thrown off by him, you play with the strings of your jacket. “Uh, yeah. She just told me to bring this when I said I was coming over.” You answer awkwardly. He isn’t throwing any insults at you, and that’s something you still haven’t gotten used to. 
He raises his brows while nodding, continuing to eat his food, leaving you and Mrs Kim standing beside each other in an odd silence. That is, until she leans in to whisper something to you. “He’s never eaten my kimbap so happily before, I wonder what your mum put in this one.” There’s a scowl on her face as bitterness lingers around her words.
You chuckle breathlessly, not really sure why Jungwon’s devouring your mum’s kimbap either. “It’s nothing special.”
Jungwon eyes the two of you before mumbling, “Stop staring.” and grabbing the rest of the food and making his way towards the door. You hesitantly scuttle behind him after giving Mrs Kim an undeserved bow. What a rude woman.
“How’d you pop it?” You ask, staring at the tire in horror as you realise the inner tube is punctured and this is going to be a very long job.
He chuckles, rubbing his hand at the nape of his neck, “Uh, I left my glass out and when I was pushing the bike it kinda just rolled over it.”
Sighing, you give him a defeated expression, “Seriously? You just added to the list of things that I’ve already broken.”
“What?”
You have to stop your breath for a second in order to hide the look of down right fear on your face as you almost slipped the crime you committed. “List of things that need fixing, I mean.” You shake your head and tut, trying to act out feign annoyance. Slowly, you peer over to Jungwon to see if he’s caught on, and he’s just staring blankly. Clearing your throat, you decide changing the topic is your best option right now. “Uhm, do you have a puncture kit?”
Jungwon, after a very long staredown, eventually replies and hands over the kit to you. You have to thank the skies for not throwing you under the bus because that was way too close. Even your hands are shaking a little as you open the kit and get on your knees, the nerves making you very tense. You don’t even have the courage to start up a conversation, and so the two of you work in silence like you did the last time. 
After about an hour in, Jungwon speaks up. “My parents bought this for me.” 
Ignoring the way you jumped at the way his voice suddenly appeared out of nowhere, you scoff. “Well, it’s not like you’ve had to work a day in your life to earn enough money to buy this.”
The dark haired boy huffs, clearly vexed. “No, I mean, they actually bought it. Like it wasn’t just a written cheque, or money into my bank account, or bought online. They flew to Thailand with me to buy it.” He explains, and when you turn to him, his eyes are boring into yours. 
“Okay, and?” You chuckle again, not really paying much mind to his words and focusing on your work instead. It’s just a bike, what is he trying to say that’s so important?
Abruptly, he brings his hand to his laps and flashes you an offended look. Worried that you’ve pressed the wrong buttons, you stop too, quietly letting him continue. “You asked why I only wanted your dad’s help. I’m answering you, okay?”
“Okay, I get it.” 
“It’s- they don’t do that, they don’t go out with me for..me.” You still don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but you nod anyway. “This bike, it’s the only reminder I have at this point that my parents love- not love, but, ugh, you know what I mean.” He rambles, playing with the strings of his tracksuit bottoms nervously.
Trying your very best to put the pieces together, you tilt your head and ask, “You don’t think your parents love you?”
“I mean, yeah,” he panics, “I’m sure they do, but they’re not like your parents, for example.”
“My parents?” Well, now you’re really lost.
Jungwon sighs, averting his gaze from you to the bike. “You know, like my dad never taught me the things yours did. My parents never dropped me off to school like yours did. My mum doesn’t even know how to cook..” He mumbles, his voice slowly drifting off with each sentence. 
“Jungwon,” you furrow your brows, “Have you been..comparing your parents to mine all these years?” Now that you think about it, there have been many times where you would be talking to your parents, and from the corner of your eye you’d stop Jungwon staring. You’ve always brushed it off, not wanting to think about the boy any more than you needed to, but now you’re thinking that maybe you should have. It’s common knowledge that money doesn’t buy you happiness, and you and Yuna have always blamed Jungwon’s lavish lifestyle for his bitchiness. But loneliness? That’s something you’ve never associated with him. 
Jungwon lets out a groan, before picking up a screwdriver again. “No.” He mutters under his breath, before turning his back to you completely.
Not wanting to prod at the situation any further, you hesitantly get back to work, too.
It’s been three hours since the two of you started working on the bike. Out of fear that Jungwon had caught on to what you said about you being the culprit, you tried helping him fix the other parts of the motorcycle, too. (Albeit your lack of knowledge of how to do so.) The alleyway has been silent for hours, the only noises were your uncomfortable giggles, shaky breaths and your nails tapping against anything they could find. Jungwon didn’t ask about your slip up, so you are hoping to God that he has no doubt about you because that would just be a one way ticket to jail. 
You don’t even realise that it’s 8pm, dark, and absolutely freezing until you find yourself shivering and brushing up your hands against your bare arms. Jungwon probably hears your chattering teeth as he looks over and juts his chin out at you. “You cold?” He asks, expressionless.
You nod immediately, standing up to stretch your legs and shake them to circulate some warmth around you. The only light the two of you have is the spotlight above you and it’s wearing out a little, making it difficult to see. “Just a little.”
Jungwon eyes your outfit, “You should have brought a coat,” he mutters, before doing the absolute unexpected.
Slack-jawed, you watch Jungwon unzip his puffer coat and hand it to you like it was normal for him to do so. With furrowed brows, you stand still, trying to find the catch behind his actions. “What?” He grumbles. “You’d rather freeze?”
Crossing your arms, you laugh at him. Seeing your breath fog up in the air, you start to reconsider declining his offer. “The last time you offered me a coat, Jungwon, it was from a dumpster. Everyone laughed at me because I had no idea and I wore it the entire PE session.” You explained, hoping he’d catch on to your lack of trust in him.
“Well, this isn’t from a dumpster, so just take it.” His arm is still extended, but you can’t bring yourself to take it from him.
“Just because I’ve come over to help you a few times,” you glare at him, “it doesn’t mean we’re friends now. This isn’t enough for me to forget everything you’ve done to me, Jungwon.” Saying this out loud to him for the first time feels weird. Neither of you have ever confronted each other about your situation. It’s always been avoided. 
Jungwon pulls his arm back towards him, before taking a few steps towards you. “I never said we’re friends, just take the fucking coat.” He curses aggressively, making you flinch a little.
But the two of you are fully aware that you won’t back down from anything without a fight. “I don’t want your coat, Jungwon. It’s bad enough that I’m here, fixing something that you have enough money to do yourself. I don’t need your stupid pity either.”
Chuckling in disbelief, Jungwon rolls his eyes and shoves the coat into your arms. “Again, all I asked was for you to fix the tire. You chose to stay longer. I told you last time that you’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t wanna be here!” He yells at you.
Jungwon has never shouted at you before. It’s always been snarky comments and childish insults. This is new, and you’re not really sure how to react to it.
“Fine! I will leave! I can’t believe I fucking rolled that kimbap for you myself because I was scared you hadn’t eaten anything.” You shout back, throwing his coat on the floor before storming to his gate. “You’re never going to change, are you?” You mumble, while trying to open his gate. 
Suddenly, you feel Jungwon’s hand belligerently pull your shoulder back so you can face him as his fingers tightly grip around your upper arm. His face is merely inches away from yours, eyes piercing right through you like a new found anger has lit inside of him. “I’ve not changed? I literally just offered you my coat.”
“Oh, wow, you’re such a saint, Jungwon.” You seethe, despite the fear running through your blood at the intensity of his glare. “What about me? Huh? I helped you fix half of your bike, I put up with the shitty chemistry club stunt you pulled on me, I helped make your food-”
“And I am trying my best to return the favour!” He snaps again, letting go of your arm.
It’s not until then that you notice a delivery driver parked right outside of Jungwon’s house. Looking over at him, you notice the bags of food in his hands as he awkwardly smiles at the two of you. Your gaze shifts between Jungwon and the driver a few times. “You ordered this?” You ask, pointing at the man who's given up smiling and is now impatiently waiting for you both to collect your food. “For us?”
“I don't like burgers.” He spits, picking up his coat off the ground to pull out his wallet.
While Jungwon is apologising and paying the delivery driver, you stare at your feet in regret. That was way too stubborn of you. Jungwon really was just trying to be helpful by giving you his coat, but you were too prideful to take it. You thought you were better than this, you thought you were better than him. Maybe this issue has always been a two-sided conflict and you've just been too angry to see otherwise.
“Here,” he hands you the bag, and this time you take it reluctantly. 
Pulling out the box to open it, you're met with a fresh little burger meal. It's not much. Hell, it's nothing at all since you're sure Jungwon can afford way more than this cheap rubbish. But it still warps a guilt around your body so twisted you feel too sick to eat the meal. 
A gasp falls from your lips as soon as it hits you; as soon as the realisation of why the bike Jungwon adores so much hits you. He’s connected to it emotionally. It’s the only form of love he’s ever gotten. And you broke it. You can’t believe you broke something so precious to someone. The silence is thick. You can't bring yourself to look at him. There's only one thing running through your mind right now.
He deserves to know what you did.
Your chest feels heavy as Jungwon goes back to sitting on the ground and working on his bike. Agitation punches at your heart while its beats echoes around your head.
He needs to know what you did.
Biting your nails, you turn around to face him. He's been working so hard for days, and it's all because of you. You went too far, and he's paying the consequences—when it should be you. Clearing your throat, you waste no time telling him. 
“I did it.”
Jungwon's hands stop moving, but his gaze remains on the motorcycle.  
“I broke your..I broke your motorbike.” You say hurriedly before nibbling on your bottom lip. He still doesn't move. “It wasn't just me, but I did pretty much most of it.” 
You wait for him to lash out and scream at you, to call the police and have you locked away for life. You wait for him to cry, or yell, or insult you. Anything. But instead he does nothing.
He just quietly says. “Get out.”
“Jungwon, I'm so sorry, I wanted to tell–”
“I said get out.” His voice is low and empty.
“I–”
He cuts you off by darting his head towards your direction and glowering at you. So you decide to leave.
-
Dear diary,
I messed up. Big time.
With not enough energy in your system to write anymore in your diary due to the hours of homework you’ve just spent, you pull out your phone instead. Opening Instagram, you decide to aimlessly scroll through your friends’ stories.
First up is Ryujin—dolled up and singing into the camera with a few other girls you mildly recognise. There must be a party, you think. Swiping, you see a picture of Yeji and her boyfriend with red paper cups in their hands, smiling really cheesily. You chuckle at the photo, swiping up and replying to her story with “couple goals fr”. The next video on Yeji’s story, however, forces you to sit up in your chair.
While it seems like a normal video of a normal high school party with Yeji and Jisu dancing away and screaming to the music, your eyes can’t help but wander to the person dancing by themself in the background.
Yang Jungwon. And he’s alone.
This throws you off completely, because from the few parties you’ve visited and from what you’ve seen on people’s stories, Jungwon’s always been one of the lives of the party. He’s always in his huge group of school friends, dancing in the middle of the room, screaming into the microphones, spraying people with water guns. Jungwon was in fact one of the reasons you don’t go to parties often, because you can’t escape his loud personality. So seeing him in the corner, alone, with a bland expression on his face, you feel your heart sink.
And for some reason, you find yourself throwing on an outfit, fixing your hair, putting on some makeup and rushing out the doors.
“Hey!” Yeji approaches you, squeezing your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, we would have got my man to pick you up!” She screams over the music, looking at you excitedly. 
Before you can answer her, Yeji’s dragging you further into the house. “It’s been so long since you’ve come to a party, Y/N!” She cheers, putting down her drink to hold onto your other hand and start dancing with you. Smiling awkwardly, you dance along a little, but your eyes keep batting around the room, searching for that one familiar face. Yeji leans forward to yell into your ear, “Is something wrong?!” 
You wince at the volume of her voice, flinching away in fear that she’ll damage your eardrum if she shouts any louder. “I’m fine! Have you seen-?!”
“Sunghoon?!” Yeji asks, both of your bodies still swaying along to the music. “Chaeryoung told us you broke it off with him! That’s why she’s over there with him now!” She points over to the kitchen where the two of them are. You watch as Chaeryoung giggles at whatever Sunghoon is saying, leaning into his taller frame and shyly touching his forearm. 
Well, that was quick of him to move on. 
Yeji holds onto both of your arms before looking into your eyes endearingly, “Do you still like him?! You know, we really need to talk about stuff like this more!” She explains as you squint your eyes, the LED flashing lights and blaring music making it difficult to focus on what she’s saying. “I miss our girly talks where we’d all talk about boys, and-!”
“Y/N!” Yuna appears from your left, immediately hugging you as she does. “You should have told me you were coming, we could have got Yeji’s boyfriend to pick you up!”
You and Yeji giggle at Yuna repeating the same phrase—realising that your whole friend group practically rely on Yeji’s boyfriend for travel. “It’s fine, I just came here for-!”
“Sunghoon?!” She asks, giving you an empathetic look. “He’s with Chaeryoung!” 
Now why does everyone assume you’re here for Sunghoon?
“No, I’m here for Jungwon!”
“What?!” Both your friends yell in unison, animating their confusion with their furrowed brows and cringed noses. 
“Jungwon!” 
Yuna eyes Yeji a little worriedly before she bends down to speak in your ear. “You’re not going to confess, are you?” Unfortunately, you haven’t given your best friend the news of what happened between you and your so-called-enemy, so you chuckle awkwardly when she asks. “Because my parents will kill me if they find out, Y/N.”
You shake your head and offer her a fake smile, “No, don’t worry, I just need to speak to him.”
Reluctantly, she lets you go and you search the house for Jungwon. But instead, you’re met with another distraction. Perfect.
You don’t even need to turn around to know that a certain black-haired tall boy is standing behind you as you recognise the feeling of his chest almost pressed against your back. Sighing aggravatingly, you turn around to meet him. “Hey.”
Sunghoon takes a few seconds to respond, his eyes roaming your face and outfit longingly. “It’s been awhile!” He shouts, giggling at the awkwardness of having to speak over the music before stuffing his hands in his jean pockets. “You look really nice!”
“What?!”
“I said, you look really nice!” He repeats, this time a beautiful smile washing over his strong features. He grins at you, smiling so wide you get a perfect view of his teeth and tiny eyes.
“Thank you! So do you!” You laugh, but your smile turns sour once you remember your last conversation with him and the reason why you’re here. 
Swiftly, Sunghoon pulls you by your waist, taking you by surprise. Keeping your attention on him distracted you from the shift in music from EDM to a much slower song, so when Sunghoon tugs you to dance with him, you’re panicking. His fingers hold you softly, barely touching you at all, and when you look up into his eyes, they’re already staring back down at you. He’s perfect; practically everything anyone wants in a partner. So why is Jungwon still the only person on your mind right now?
The room is a lot quieter now, so the two of you don’t need to scream in each other’s faces anymore. Thank God for that. 
“Who did you dress up for, pretty?” Your cheeks can’t help but flare up at the pet name, and you have to purse your lips from smiling like a child. “It definitely wasn’t for me, was it?” There’s a sad smile to his lips, causing you to break the heavy eye contact.
“I just didn’t want to stick out, that’s all. It’d be weird if I came in normal clothes.” Mumbling, you notice the way Sunghoon lets go of your waist with one hand, only to interlock it with yours. 
“So if you didn’t come here to party, why’d you come?” He asks, and all of a sudden the spinning is starting to make you a little dizzy.
You gaze up at him with round eyes, knowing full well that he’s aware of why you came here. You hate the fact that he’s forcing you to say it out loud—to come to terms with your emotions that you absolutely despise right now. Your life could be so much easier if you really did have feelings for Sunghoon (despite the fact that Chaeryoung likes him too, maybe that would have been a bit messy) because showing up to a loud, rowdy place like this for a boy who absolutely hates your guts is just too complicated for your heart to handle.
Liking Sunghoon would have been easier, and even though you’re dancing in his arms right now, you’re still choosing Jungwon.
“I need to tell him.”
“About the motorbike or about your feelings?” 
You gulp, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I already told him about the bike. So now I need to apologise.”
“He’s hurt you, Y/N, really bad. I don’t get why you picked him.” His face is stern, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth.
Slowly, you let go of Sunghoon’s hand, and take his other off your waist. Looking up at him, you offer him a heartfelt smile before resting your hands on his chest. You take in a deep breath before looking up at him directly and say, “Neither do I.”
And like the two of you are some characters ripped out of the pages of a novel, you break away from each other, time slowing down as you walk away from him. Seeing Chaeryoung latch onto him while you walk backwards puts you at ease a little, you hope he sees the charm in your friend, you really do. 
You’ve been searching for Jungwon for around ten minutes now, and you figure he’s left since you can’t go too far in a house, can you? You end up proving yourself wrong, however, when you walk into the upstairs balcony and spot him staring into the view. 
Quietly, you lean against the balcony beside him, keeping your eyes on him in case he makes an indication that he wants you to leave.
With his gaze locked onto the city, not even sparing you a glance, Jungwon sighs deeply. “What are you doing here?”
“I just needed some fresh air,” You lie, unable to muster up the courage to explain the real reason.
“Okay, well, I think you’ve breathed in enough and you can leave now.” He mutters through jarred teeth. He looks just as angry as the day you told him about the motorbike, the steam still whistling at the top of his head. His jaw is shut tight, making his jawline look sharp enough to stab you with, and his eyes are doing their own damage to the sky with how narrow he’s piercing them.
Turning to face him, you instinctively reach out your hand to hold his arm, “Jungwon, I’m sor-”
Of course he recoils his arm away and of course he gives you a disgusted look. It’s only natural—you kind of deserve this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
His tone flicks a switch inside of you unknowingly as you retort, “I was just apologising?”
“No, you don’t get to apologise,” He points at you with one hand, his other leaning against the balcony frame. His brows are lowered and his tongue is occasionally poking the inside of his cheek. “You broke my..you broke my bike.” His voice breaks, and you notice the way his bottom lip quivers. “My bike. Do you know…do you know how many memories me and my parents made in Thailand? My dad taught me how to ride it, and my mum sat at the back of it while I drove on the beach and..” He sniffles, bringing up his hand to wipe at his eyes before turning away from you. “And then out of all people you ended up helping me fix it. You’re messed up, that’s-that’s not normal.” He mutters, in between quick and raspy breaths.
Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your eyes begin to tear up, too. You made Jungwon cry again. That’s twice. That’s one more than he’s done. Just when you thought you brought the old Jungwon back you broke him again. Seeing his shoulders shudder as he cries quietly into his hands has you clutching onto your chest tightly in hopes you don’t break, too.
“I’m sorry..” You whisper.
“You don’t get to say that!” He repeats, shouting into his hands. 
“But, I mean it,” you say a little louder, wiping away the tears that managed to slip out to keep your voice as still as possible.
Hastily, Jungwon turns back around, “No, you don’t get to say that because..” The dark haired boy brings down his hands to reveal his face. You’ve never seen him like this; eyes soaked and his nose red and swollen. “Because it should be me. And that’s why I’m so mad.”
“It should be you? Apologising?” You ask, unconsciously inching towards him, unaware of how close your bodies are.
His eyes wander around your face for a little while before he sucks in a deep breath, “Yeah, whatever.” Sniffling, he turns his head back to the view of the city. “Obviously, you only did that because of me.”
“No, Jungwon, that was something personal to you. I-I went too far.”
Taking you by surprise, he groans into his hand loudly before looking back at you again. “You didn’t know that it was personal!” He yells, forcing you to jerk your head back a little with wide eyes. “You didn’t know that because we don’t know each other! We don’t-!” His chest heaves laboriously as his brown eyes bore deep into yours. “We’ve known each other for so long, longer than Heeseung or Jongseong or..Sunghoon.” He mumbles the last part, his lips forming into a pout. 
“Yet we don’t know anything about each other?” You finish off his sentence, making sure to keep eye contact this time, because now is the time to let it all out. Now is the time for the two of you to confront the stupid situation you’ve trapped yourselves in for years. “I know,” You whisper, before pursing your lips, trying not to spill out every thought running through your mind right now.
You spot the way the shape of Jungwon’s eyes change from slitting to more rounded. They’re large and round at the front but pull out at the sides, similar to those of a cat. For some reason, his eyes are comforting. 
“Yeah..” He lets out a shaky breath. “All I know is that you’re this girl that lives across the street that has the most perfect life.”
You scoff, “Well, if you call bad grades and single-”
“You have parents that hug you every morning when you leave the house for school. You have friends that will stick by you even when you ask them to do something as stupid as break your neighbour’s bike.” You both chuckle at that bit. “You’re just.. I’ve always wanted to have that. Sometimes I think of what it would be like if I switched places with you.”
Naturally, you respond with, “Well, if you had to deal with a certain someone that makes you hate leaving your house everyday, I don’t think you’d want to be me.” You laugh at your joke, before noticing the way Jungwon’s face drops. Shit—he’s the certain someone. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like-”
“No you did. That’s why you broke my bike.” He says firmly, and the urge to look away pushes through and you turn your head away from him. 
You should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it comes from Jungwon. Because the next thing you hear is a muffled snort followed by a soft laughter. Looking back at him, you’re perplexed. Was this a joke? Was this all just another prank? Does he really have no feelings? Are the police waiting at the bottom of the house to lock you away for years? 
Jungwon breaks into an even louder laughter when he sees your expression, resting his elbows on the balcony rail and burying his head into his hands to try and quieten himself down. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, shaking his head, “It’s just.. I was such an asshole to you. My bike getting broken was just karma if you think about it.”
“Are you saying you deserve it?” You ask doubtfully, scared you’re dipping into hot water.
“It feels like it. I couldn’t stop thinking about how shocked you were when I was being nice for once. Like, I was really that bad, huh?”
You join in on his laughter, “We shouldn’t be laughing about this.” You say, before taking another look at Jungwon and bursting into another fit of giggles with him at the same time.
This is weird. Your arms are bumping against each other, you’re laughing so much your cheeks and throat are sore, and you can’t stop gazing into Jungwon’s eyes as you both smile with each other. You know. You’ve known since Sunghoon told you that you think about Jungwon way more than you should. You’ve known since the first time your legs touched each other accidentally that day you were fixing his bike. You’ve known since the time you watched him happily munch away on your mum’s kimbap. 
You know exactly why your heart is racing right now. Racing for the idiot you’ve been hating since you were eleven years old. Racing for your so-called-enemy of six years. Racing for the guy that just laughed about how badly he’s treated you. You’re so dumb, catching feelings for someone like Jungwon. Your cheeks should not be burning right now. He’s just Jungwon, you try to remind yourself.
Buried deep in your thoughts, you didn’t even realise the two of you have stopped laughing. It’s only now that you notice Jungwon’s eyes flickering between yours and your lips, and that he’s steadily leaning towards you. If your heart was racing before, it’s sprinting down a freaking marathon now. You stay still, waiting to see (or feel) whatever happens next. You’re too scared to initiate anything in case you freak the boy out and he backs away. Because what reason would he have to lean in right now? What reason would he have to like you back?
What reason would Yang Jungwon have to kiss you?
All of your questions fly out of the window as soon as his lips latch onto yours softly. Letting out a little gasp, although you were already expecting this, your hand flies to the balcony rail immediately. This is your first kiss. You always expected it to be more romantic; on a date with a guy in the park, or under a sakura tree at school. You never thought you’d kiss someone a few minutes after watching them cry their eyes out.
His lips are soft, though, so you close your eyes to feel them more. A hand reaches the back of your head as he tilts his head, a shaky breath blowing into yours. You can’t help but smile into the kiss, giggling at how inexperienced you both are. You both pull away, and you’re a little disappointed at the lack of..well..kissing there was. You’re pretty sure your lips are actually supposed to move in a kiss. So, pulling on every string of courage you have, you place your hands on either side of his shoulders and pull Jungwon in for a second round. This time, you tilt your head and open your lips a little, your stomach filling with butterflies when Jungwon lets out a sigh of relief against you. His movements are gentle, and the tenderness of his small lips opening and closing within yours causes your head to spin a little. He’s a little too good at this, his thumbs rubbing circles on either side of your waist making you feel all mushy inside. 
You hate him. You hate how good he is at kissing even though it’s his first time.
Pulling away, you can’t help but cover your face. Jungwon giggles at you quietly, making your body heat up even more. You feel his hands clasp around your wrists as he pulls them away from your face, shoving his right in yours. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. His cheeks are bright red and puffed out, his lips are a little puffy and his eyes are rounder than you’ve ever seen them before. A genuine, really pretty smile sits on his lips as he speaks up again.
“We cannot tell anyone about this.”
“Agreed.”
-
A/N | and that's a wrap! i'm ngl i dont really understand the hype for this fic i wish i did things a lot differently ahahah,, but u guys really enjoyed it and that's all that matters!
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defectivevillain · 10 months ago
Text
turning pages (for people who don't care)
pairing: Felix Catton/Reader
summary: Felix Catton is well-liked by practically everyone he meets, from teachers to peers and strangers. He catches the gazes of anyone as he enters a space; he’s often the thrumming energy that determines exactly how a night will go. Felix’s name lives everywhere, from the pulsing rhythm of rowdy parties to the quiet whispers across the school courtyard. Anyone who’s anyone knows Felix Catton. As an unassuming student at Oxford with no particular desire for wealth, luxurious parties, or hesitant smiles from across a dimly-lit pub, you’re not sure how to feel about that. However, you soon find your quiet student life thrown into a whirlwind of activity when you have to tutor Felix.
The reader’s pronouns are unspecified, but they are written to wear masculine clothing. (I'm of the opinion that anyone can rock a dress shirt & slacks, but whatever). Otherwise, no physical descriptors are used; the reader's race and gender are ambiguous.
The title of this fic is from Drift Away, the Steven Universe song.
word count: ...7.3k. i don't want to talk about it. 💀
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ao3 version
You enjoy being a tutor at Oxford. It doesn’t pay incredibly well, but the work itself is rewarding enough for you to forgive the meager wages. You genuinely look forward to your sessions, to seeing the bright gleam in a student’s eyes as they begin to understand the material in a way they hadn’t before. You muse on the thought as you walk into the library, heading for your usual table and arranging your materials. Your next session is in a few minutes, so you spend your spare time reviewing your notes from your previous class. 
Someone pointedly clears their throat and you look up, only to find yourself staring at another student. He has messy brown hair, warm brown eyes, and an easy smile on his face. He looks self-assured, yet there’s a slight sense of apprehension veiled in the way he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Hello,” you decide to say. 
“..Hello.” He responds casually. 
There’s an awkward beat of silence. Feeling eyes on you, you glance to the side, only to find a few people staring at you from a few tables away. They must be his friends. You shake your head and pretend not to have noticed, instead turning your attention to your laptop. “You must be… Felix?” You ask. 
“Yes,” Felix responds, amusement glimmering in his eyes as if he expects you to know exactly who he is. 
“Great, have a seat,” you say, not bothering to pay him a second glance. You pull up the email you received from the tutoring center, which shows the coursework he’s bringing in. “You have… a philosophy essay?” Felix nods, taking a seat and going through his backpack. “Awesome. Can you tell me a little about the assignment?”
Within a few minutes, it’s clear that Felix is an extroverted person. Moreover, he seems to be rather popular—several people passing by clap him on the shoulder as they walk past him. Thankfully, the gestures aren’t super distracting. Still, you find yourself a little surprised at the sheer amount of friends this guy appears to have. 
But that’s not important, you scold yourself. You revert your attention to his philosophy essay, which is off to a great start. Admittedly, he has a solid foundation—he just seems to need guidance working with transitioning between ideas. His citations could use some work, too, but you’re quick to refer him to the proper resources. Overall, though, his essay is well-crafted. You tell him as much, and his eyes momentarily widen before he averts his gaze, suddenly appearing flustered. 
You still can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched, though. It’s not Felix’s friends this time, either. You don’t realize how preoccupied you are with the feeling until Felix draws attention to it. 
“Do you know him?” He asks, just as you’re in the middle of reading a sentence. You pause and look up, following Felix’s gaze to somewhere in the distance. Sure enough, Michael is lurking in the corner of two bookshelves, his eyes nearly burning into you. 
“Yeah, that’s Michael,” At Felix’s inquiring look, you continue. “I’ve seen him around. Talked to him once or twice.” You admit. We’re not really friends gets caught in your throat. Admittedly, Michael creeps you out a little, but you’d never say that out loud. 
Felix raises an eyebrow, twirls his pencil around his finger. He seems to be in his element now, as he sprawls in his chair with all the ease and confidence of someone who has never needed to make an effort for appearances. “He seems to think you’re friends,” Felix remarks lightly. 
“He seems to think a lot of things,” you respond before you can stop yourself. Felix chuckles. “Back to your paper.” You say, returning your attention to your peer’s work. 
The reminder of the tutoring session is rather uneventful. Felix is skilled at writing, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s struggling simply because he isn’t doing the work. You suppose you have no way of knowing for sure. He’s made small comments here and there about his writing and why he’s here today—apparently his parents issued him an ultimatum and pretty much forced him to show up for tutoring. The session goes rather well, though—even despite the fact that he seemed rather uninterested at the beginning. 
“Alright,” you sigh once your time is up, placing a hand over the top of your laptop and shutting it ever so slightly. “Any last questions before we wrap up?” You ask him. Felix blinks for a moment. 
“I don’t think so,” he responds with a shake of his head. He begins to pack up his things, before looking at you once more. There’s a newfound conviction in his frame now. Felix slings his bag over his shoulder, pausing for a moment. “You were super helpful.” He admits, looking away as if the admission is difficult to make. 
“Good!” You say relievedly. You’re always thrilled to hear that your peers feel as if they’ve gotten something from the tutoring. Your own beliefs can only go so far, after all. Just because you perceive a session to be helpful doesn’t mean it’s helpful to the other student. You shake your head to clear your thoughts. “Glad to hear it. Enjoy your day, and best of luck with your classes.” 
Felix returns the sentiment, sending you one last unreadable look before walking over to the group that you had assumed to be his friends. They greet him with enthusiasm, evidently asking him questions about the time he spent working with you. Whatever he responds with must be intriguing, because the group’s gazes pivot back to you once more. You quickly focus on packing your bag, resolutely ignoring the attentive eyes burning into your back as you leave the library. 
Felix slips from your mind rather easily after that day, especially when your course load increases and your work schedule grows a bit more intense. You soon find yourself in a rather stringent routine, in which you go to classes, tutor, go to more classes, eat meals in between, and go to sleep. It’s not ideal, but you enjoy tutoring and your schoolwork enough to push through it. 
You’re walking to one of your classes when you hear someone call your name. At first, you’re convinced you imagined the remark. It isn’t until there’s suddenly an arm slung around your shoulder that you realize you likely heard correctly. The unexpected physical contact prompts you to look to the side, only to find Felix staring at you with a sheepish smile. 
“Hey, there you are,” he remarks. “I’ve been looking for you.” You reflexively stiffen at the thought, but the gesture goes unnoticed. Felix’s grip is relentless, and you soon find yourself being pushed towards the courtyard off the stone path and near a small group of people. These must be Felix’s friends from before. 
“Mates, this is the tutor who saved my ass last week,” Felix tells his friends, his arm still around your shoulder. You resist the compelling urge to shove him away. “Say hello.” He says to his friends, before turning to you again. “I owe you a drink sometime.”
“I’m not much of a drinker,” you say with a shake of your head. You don’t have much time for that with your current schedule. A hangover would be nothing but an inconvenience considering how early you’ve had to wake up the past few days. “But thanks anyway.”
“Ciggie?” He offers, his arm finally falling from your shoulders to pull a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. You’re suddenly hit with a strange shiver, a phantom sensation of the weight that rested there only a moment prior. You don’t realize that you haven’t answered the question until a few moments later.
“No thanks,” you remember to respond, ignoring his friends’ gazes burning into your skin again. Do they have nothing better to do than tear you apart with their eyes?  “Good to see you.” You’re quick to try to end the conversation, but Felix is quicker. 
“Hey, are you free tonight?” He asks. Somehow, he seems immune to his friends’ stares, as they’re all whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves. You resolutely ignore them and instead contemplate his question. 
“Um.. no,” you say, after taking a moment to recall your schedule. You need to complete some coursework. “Why? Do you have an assignment?” You frown, trying to think back to the classes he said he’s taking. 
“No,” Felix responds with a shake of his head. He gestures to the group. “We were going out to the pub.”
“I have an essay to write,” you remark, trying to sound disappointed. Maybe a small part of you is genuinely saddened at the conflict of plans, but you’re mostly just relieved to have an excuse not to go. You glance over at the clock in the courtyard, heart beginning to race when you notice your next class starts in two minutes. “I have to go to class. See you.” You turn on your heel and walk away, just barely hearing Felix’s goodbye over the nearby conversations. 
“Your tutor’s kind of dodgy, eh, mate?” Farleigh says. 
“No, not at all,” Felix responds with a shake of his head. The expression on his face is thoughtful, and his eyes are fixed on your turned back.
“If you say so,” Farleigh shrugs, taking another drag. 
You hadn’t realized Felix was so popular. Now that you’ve met him, you hear whispers of him all around the school. Everyone seems to have an opinion on him one way or another. You’ve only conversed with him the few times you’ve seen him in tutoring sessions and around campus, but he seems nice enough.
Classes fly by, to your satisfaction. Your last class of the day ends a bit after the regular dinner hour, but you manage to sneak into the dining hall and snag some food before the space closes. After that, you’re content to return to your room. It’s been a long day and you could use some time to yourself to just relax and breathe. 
Unfortunately, your suffering doesn’t end when you reach your residence hall. Instead, the moment you enter, you nearly crash into a woman waiting in front of a door. You manage to sidestep her and head up the stairs leading to the next floor.
“Hey, have you seen Felix?” Her voice echoes in the stairway. You freeze and turn to look down at the woman standing on the landing. She has bright red hair and glittering makeup coating her eyes. You feel your brows climb up your forehead as you realize that the door she’s standing in front of must lead to Felix’s room. You didn’t realize he lived in this building too. 
“They’re all at the pub,” you answer after a few moments, recalling your conversation earlier. “At least, that’s what he said when I spoke to him earlier.” 
She doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer, as she takes a deep breath. “Do you have alcohol?” She then asks. 
“No,” you answer honestly. Felix’s friend stares at you for a moment, before huffing and walking away. You can’t find the energy to dissect that conversation, so you instead focus on unlocking the door to your room. You spend the rest of the night purposefully suppressing any thoughts of Felix and his friends. 
When you wake the next morning, you feel somewhat rejuvenated and well-rested. Your essay is more than halfway done and you still have a few days before the due date. The sun is out and shining, casting a hazy glow over the courtyard that your room looks out on. You take a deep breath, before changing and brushing your teeth. You head to the dining hall for a small breakfast, before moving to the library for your first tutoring session of the day. 
You’re not sure how much time you spend waiting for your peer to show, but you reckon it can’t be that long. It only feels like ten minutes pass before there’s a shadow passing over your vision, indicating that someone is standing over your table. You look up, unable to contain your surprise when you find Felix with a bag slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face. 
“Hi,” you remark. 
“Hey,” he responds, placing his bag on the ground and sitting down. You take the gifted opportunity to review the information given to you for the tutoring session. It appears Felix has another philosophy essay he wants you to look at. That shouldn’t be too bad. You give him a moment to get his things out, before diving right into his writing. 
You’re happy to realize that he has used some of your tips from your first session. You already notice that the flow of his writing has improved, and his use of transition words at the beginning of each paragraph has aided in that regard. He has a few grammar errors—nothing major—and a few small citation mistakes. “Instead of listing all the authors, you can just say ‘Marks et al.’ here,” you point out, gesturing to the sentence that you’re looking at on the screen. Felix nods silently and adjusts the text. 
“I heard you spoke with Annabel the other day,” he remarks, apropos of nothing. You’re abruptly thrown off track as your attention turns from the paper to Felix himself. He repeats his statement. 
“Really?” You ask. Felix nods. “Sure, we spoke for a bit.” You return to reading his essay, confused by the sudden change in subject.
“What did you talk about?” He presses. 
“She asked if I had seen you,” you answer, trying and failing to multitask. You eventually give up on reading for the time being and address his question. “I said no.”
“And?” Felix prompts. 
“And that was it,” you finish. Felix still doesn’t seem convinced for some reason. You rack your brain and try to remember your interaction with the woman. It only happened a few days ago, but you’ve been so busy that it feels like a lifetime ago.  “Oh, she asked me if I had alcohol. I said no. Then that was it.” You must imagine the momentary look of relief on his face. 
“She called you prickly,” Felix continues, a mischievous smile on his face. You’re not sure what there is to smile about. 
“I’m sure,” you respond disinterestedly. You’d like to go back to reading his paper, but he keeps diverting your attention and changing the subject. Before you can even attempt to try reading again, there’s suddenly a hand on the edge of your laptop, pushing your screen down ever so slightly. You look up to find Felix watching you rather closely. 
“Who are you, exactly?” Felix asks. The library around you seems to fall silent with the remark. Your skin prickles. Why is there such an intent look on his face? Surely learning more about you doesn’t matter that much to him. Felix evidently notices you’re speechless and continues. “I don’t know anything about you. I’ve seen you around campus a few times, but that’s it.”
“I’m your tutor,” you respond, after taking a moment to collect your thoughts. Your heart is hammering away in your chest. “You don’t need to know anything about me.”
“What if I want to?”
“You wouldn’t want to,” you reply instinctively, warily. Alarm bells are ringing in your head. You can’t quite imagine a scenario in which Felix Catton, wealthy heir and avid partygoer, would ever benefit from knowing anything about you. Does he even notice how much attention he’s drawing, just sitting here with you right now? Even his friends are confused by his supposed interest in you. “I’m nothing special.” You try to look at his essay once more. 
“That’s not true,” Felix says insistently, getting to his feet and placing his hand on your laptop once more. He’s ripping your eyes away from the screen and towards him. There’s an indignant expression on his face, as if he’s insulted by your claim. You blink up at him in confusion. If everyone in the library wasn’t staring already, then they certainly are now. Felix seems to regain his composure, as he shakes his head and moves to sit down once more. 
There’s a palpable tension lingering in the air throughout the rest of your session. Felix seems anchored to his chair, as if he doesn’t want to leave. Eventually, you’re the one to leave first, as you have class in a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk away, imploring you to explain yourself further. 
You’re not sure what there is to explain. Despite your prior promises not to pay attention to the rumors and whispers of your peers, you can’t help but acknowledge them. You have to wonder if some of it is true—if Felix doesn’t really do friends , if he is only interested in people for whatever they can offer him. Truthfully, Felix isn’t a person you would’ve interacted with. If not for tutoring, you’re sure you would’ve spent your entire time at Oxford knowing absolutely nothing about him and being unable to explain the strange stirring feeling of dislike in your chest. It’s too late now, though. It seems you can’t go back to the way things once were—not when Felix knows who you are now. You just have to hope that maybe, just maybe, he’ll realize that there’s nothing particularly compelling about you. 
For a while, you don’t see Felix Catton and you are fooled into thinking he may have actually lost interest. You feel relieved at the thought. A small, traitorous part of you may long for the company he provides—the soft smiles he sends you, the glitter in his eyes as he speaks to you and only you. It was only for the best that you drifted apart, you think to yourself as you take an armchair in the library. The end of the semester is approaching, and you’ve taken every free moment to study and review course materials. Many other students seem to have the same idea as you, as the library has been a bit busier these past few weeks. 
You barely get to start rereading your notes before a familiar voice is speaking to you. “My parents were impressed.” You look up to find Felix standing over you. It takes you several seconds to process his statement. 
“With what?” You ask. Admittedly, you’re confused as to why he felt the need to approach you right now of all times. You’re sitting alone at a table in the library, and a few students are throwing you dirty looks as Felix continues to speak to you. You want nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear forever. 
“My philosophy grade, of course,” Felix remarks, taking the chair adjacent to you. You feel like everyone in the library is staring at you. When you look up, you find that a few students actually are—Felix’s friends at another table are among them. Felix seems immune to the attention he provokes. “They really want to meet you.” That surprises you. Why would his parents want to meet you? Because of your tutoring? All these questions must show on your face, because Felix elaborates. “They wanted to thank you.”
That’s surprising. “Are they visiting Oxford soon?” You ask curiously. 
“No,” Felix answers. Your brows furrow and he shakes his head. “I meant this summer. You should join us at Saltburn.” He looks at you expectantly. You don’t have the faintest clue what Saltburn is, but you guess it must be a name for their residence. Judging from what you’ve heard of the Cattons, Saltburn is likely a very large, very extravagant mansion. 
You blink at Felix once, twice. The expression on his face holds nothing but complete sincerity. You feel a laugh crawl out of your throat. It’s only until you see his face fall that you realize he’s not joking. “Oh, you’re serious,” you comprehend aloud. “Yeah, I could stop by.” 
“I’d like you there,” he confesses. You feel your eyes widen as you stare at him in disbelief. “Is that so hard to believe?” Felix asks, looking at you skeptically. 
Yes. Yes, it is. “...No.”
“You don’t sound convinced,” Felix says lightly. It almost looks as if he’s forcing a smile. 
“You’re right,” you acquiesce, “I’m not convinced.” 
Felix huffs in amusement, before pushing himself out of the chair and sending you a wave over his shoulder. You watch him leave, unable to shake the feeling that, somehow, you’re going to be roped into visiting his parents at their residence this summer. 
Two months later, as you find yourself staring up at the splendor of Saltburn, you think you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. Then again, a summons from James and Elspeth Catton isn’t exactly something you can ignore. You tug your suitcase across the rocky driveway, before arriving at the gargantuan wooden doors at the entrance. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as you stand there. A few moments later, the doors swing open and you’re greeted by a man in a tuxedo—evidently a butler of some sort. He takes you into a beautifully ornate room with sunlight streaming in past ornate golden curtains. Thankfully, you’re not left to your own devices for long, as you hear footsteps echoing through the space. 
Felix walks through the doorway, his expression brightening when he sees you. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. The sincerity of his statement catches you off guard. Felix takes a step closer to break the distance between you and slings an arm around your shoulders, leading you past the butler and towards the edge of the room. You’re hit with whiplash—both because of the surprisingly heartfelt remark and the rapidity of Felix’s actions. Felix proceeds to take you on an informal tour of the residence, before leading you through his bedroom and the adjacent bathroom to your room. 
“Hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom,” he remarks offhandedly, leading you into the space that will be your bedroom. You assure him that you don’t mind and he grins, gesturing at your new room with a flourish. “Here’s your room. I’ll leave you to it.” He freezes in the doorway, pressing a hand to the doorframe and turning around for a brief moment. “We’ll be in the sitting room,” Felix adds, before turning back around and walking away. 
You stare at the empty doorway for an immeasurable amount of time, before letting your gaze wander across the room. The room is quite gorgeous, with an elegant four poster bed and detailed paintings adorning the walls. The door leads to the bathroom, which then connects to Felix’s bedroom. You’re grateful that he placed you near him—you’re not sure you’d be comfortable inhabiting a room on the other side of the house, with no one around to guide you. You place your luggage off to the side—after telling the butler that you could carry it on your own—and take a deep breath. Truthfully, you’re not really sure why you’re here. You’re only going to humiliate yourself here. You don’t belong here. Why did you even entertain the thought? 
You try to come up with an answer as you pace around the room, before finally deciding that there isn’t a clear-cut answer. You glance over at the clock in the corner, eyes widening when you realize that you spent at least twenty minutes just standing in the room and thinking. You take a few cautious steps into the bathroom, walk through Felix’s bedroom, and go down the hall Felix pointed out earlier. You quickly realize that you’re going in the wrong direction and backpedal, only to find a door left nearly closed, with a small crack letting the sound of conversation slip into the hall. This must be the sitting room. 
You take a deep breath, steel your nerves, and knock on the door. Someone remarks that you can enter and you do so, pushing the door open more and stepping into the sitting room. The television is playing, but everyone’s eyes seem to be on you. Felix is sitting in the corner and his friend—Farleigh?—is sitting near the back of the room. You don’t get much time to take in your surroundings, as you’re quickly accosted by who you can only assume to be Felix’s father. 
“Ah, you must be the tutor,” he remarks, getting up from his seat. “So wonderful to meet you. I’m James, and this is my wife, Elspeth.” You shake his proffered hand, before lingering awkwardly in the center of the room. Thankfully, Elspeth gets up to greet you, saving you from further embarrassment. 
“I suppose you’re the one we owe for our son’s wonderful grades this term!” Elspeth remarks, bringing you in for a hug. Felix huffs and mutters something about not needing the help. You feel somewhat inclined to defend him, for reasons you can’t quite explain. 
“Don’t give me too much credit,” you smile. “Felix is a great writer.” 
Felix mutters something again, too quiet for you to hear. His mother turns to him and asks him to repeat himself. He averts his eyes and you swear you see him flush for a split second. “Not as great as you.” 
“Well, aren’t you the flatterer,” Elspeth says, waving a casual hand at her son. Her gaze then turns back to you. “And you. So humble! I can see why Felix talks about you so much.” Felix freezes like a deer in headlights, before quickly leaving the room, murmuring about talkative mothers. You stare after him helplessly. There goes the only person that finds you even mildly tolerable. 
“We are very thankful for your help, truly,” James says, crossing his leg over his knee. “Felix has always been a good student, but this term, he… he’s been different. We’re glad that he’s gotten his affairs back in order. With your assistance, of course! You must show me your writing sometime.”
“Thank you,” you respond sincerely. “I’d love to. And thank you so much for inviting me into your home.”
“So polite!” Elspeth remarks, shooting a dirty look at the other woman in the room. You quickly pretend you didn’t notice that. “Of course, darling.”  
You’re left to sit awkwardly in the sitting room for a few moments. Felix’s parents ask you a few questions, but eventually their attention falls back to the program they’re watching. A shadow at the door draws your eye and you see Felix motioning for you to follow after him. You glance at his parents, who both motion for you to join their son. You get to your feet and walk out of the room, ignoring the sensation of a pressured gaze boring holes into your back. 
“Sorry about that,” Felix apologizes, once the two of you are turning the corner and walking down the hall. 
“About what?” You ask, glancing at him. “Your parents seem nice.” 
Felix just sighs and shakes his head. You don’t think you can even begin to truly comprehend the emotions behind that simple gesture, so you decide to simply succumb to the silence that spreads across the air. 
You spend the rest of the afternoon reading one of the books in the library. You don’t realize that it’s time for dinner until Felix is entering the space and practically dragging you along behind him to the dining room. 
“I hear your birthday is coming up,” Felix’s father, James, remarks at some point throughout the meal. You look up from where you’d been absently poking at your food. There’s an expectant look on his face. You have to wonder how he knows when your birthday is. You don’t remember telling anyone about it—except for Felix, perhaps.  “Yes, it is,” you agree.
“Have any grand plans?” Elspeth suggests. Her eyes quickly light up. You’re suddenly filled with trepidation. “Oh, we should have a birthday party! We could invite all your friends!” You freeze on instinct. You’re not the biggest fan of parties, and you know you definitely don’t have enough friends at Oxford to fill a place as big as Saltburn for a party. Felix’s mother glances at you expectantly, immune to your internal crisis. 
You’re saved from responding by Felix’s remark. “You’re not really a party person, are you?” He asks. His parents’ gazes focus on you and you nearly sag in relief, feeling the tension seep from your shoulders. 
“Oh, nonsense,” Elspeth remarks. Shit, you think. “Everyone loves parties! We’ll have to make it themed…” You resist a groan. It’s too late. Felix’s mother and father are already chattering about the details of the party, the number of people they’ll invite… You don’t want to appear ungrateful, so you stifle your objections and spend the rest of the meal staring at the wall ahead. 
When dinner is finished, Felix is the first one to depart. He stares at you pointedly and gestures wordlessly to the exit. You get the idea and practically jump from your seat, grateful for an excuse to leave. You walk behind Felix, pretending not to notice how broad his shoulders are. “Sorry about that,” Felix grimaces, his back turned as he continues walking, “My mother has a bit of a one track mind, sometimes.” 
“It’s fine,” you remark. You can survive one party. Besides, it may actually be enjoyable. You tell him as much and he seems to brighten up at that. That night, you recline on your mattress with thoughts flooding your mind, leaving you awake for longer than you’d like. Eventually, the curtain falls and your vision fades to black. 
When you open your eyes, you find yourself standing on the balcony of the mansion, overlooking the yard. There are clothes and discarded drinks littering the previously spotless grass. What disturbs you most of all, however, is the franticness with which everyone seems to be conducting themselves. You stare out at the wreckage that must’ve come from the party and take a deep breath. 
“What happened?” You ask Farleigh after walking down the steps. The expression on his face is grave and panicked at the same time. He’s wading through the pond and soaking his clothes, but he hardly seems to notice. 
“We can’t find Felix,” he responds, his eyes flitting about the area. There’s a horrible tugging feeling in your stomach as you realize that Farleigh’s looking for Felix in the water. Did something happen to him? You swallow hard and walk around the grounds, trying to comprehend how Felix could have gone missing in such a short time. 
Out of nowhere, Venetia screams. Feeling a shiver roll down your spine, you race over in the direction of the voice, only to find yourself running through the overgrown walls of the maze. You see Venetia’s blond hair and you quickly run over to her, only to freeze when you see what she screamed about. Felix is lying motionless in the center of the maze. You feel an itching feeling in the back of your throat, a burning sensation behind your eyes. Farleigh arrives and gasps; Venetia starts crying. You don’t know what to do, as you stand helplessly before your peer, your friend. James arrives and takes a shuddering breath, eyes glassy as he stares at the corpse of his son. For a long moment, nothing can be heard except for Farleigh and Venetia’s sobs and your ragged breathing. 
“We need to move him,” James announces. You stare at him in disbelief. How is he even functioning right now? He sounds eerily calm despite the gravity of the situation. 
Apparently, you don’t react fast enough, because James’s hands are soon on your shoulders and he’s shoving you towards the body. You just barely catch yourself from falling over. The patriarch grabs Felix’s shoulders and prompts for you to grab his ankles. You’re shaking. You can’t move. Tears sliding down your face, you reach down to touch the corpse—only to recoil at how cold the skin is. Suddenly, there’s a harsh sound and Felix’s body is sinking beneath the earth, engulfed by soil and pebbles—
You gasp and open your eyes, only to find yourself in your room once more. You try to breathe, but the effort burns. Sweat coats your skin and your limbs are shaky. With trembling hands, you reach out to the nightstand and take a few sips of water, before wiping the sweat from your brows. The sheets on the bed are a mess—you must’ve been tossing and turning. Your breaths are still laborious, and your chest is beginning to ache. You mechanically get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, standing in front of the sink. Your reflection in the mirror is grim—dark circles under your eyes and a firm pull to your lips. You reach down and turn on the water, letting the freezing temperature ground you in reality. Eventually, you reach down and douse your face with cold water. 
Once you’re finished, you grab a towel and dry off your face. “Hey, are you okay?” You nearly jump out of your body at the sudden voice. You wipe any remaining water droplets away, recognizing the voice as Felix’s. “I heard a scream.” 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” you mumble, rubbing a hand over your face. The water helped, but you still feel jittery and unsettled. You grasp at the edges of the sink and resolutely look down at the counter. 
“Are you okay?” Felix asks again. You finally turn around, only for your mouth to go dry as your gaze settles on your friend. Felix is standing in the doorway, healthy and happy and alive. It’s such a harsh contrast from the Felix you had seen in your dreams—a pale, frozen shell of himself. Before you can recognize what you’re doing, you’re surging forward to wrap your arms around Felix. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch or push you away—instead, he pulls you close with a hand on the nape of your neck. You feel self conscious for getting so worked up about a dream, but it just felt so real. You could feel the weight of his dead body in your hands. 
“Did you have a nightmare or something?” Felix whispers after a few moments. You nod quietly, not trusting yourself to speak. “I’m sorry.” He’s the one apologizing, after you made too much noise and woke him in the middle of the night with your terror. You just shake your head wordlessly.
You’re not sure how much time you spend standing there, Felix’s arms enveloping you. Eventually, the edges of the nightmare begin to fade away and your friend’s presence is undeniable. Felix is safe, you tell yourself. He is fine. 
Breaking away from him feels far more difficult than it should be. You immediately miss his warmth, miss the feeling of being shielded from harm. Felix’s arms fall to his sides, before he braces them on the bathroom counter. Taken in by the inexplicable urge to touch him, you place a hand over his and pretend not to hear his startled inhale of breath. 
“Thank you,” you murmur. 
“Of course,” Felix responds, a note of something imperceptible in his voice. You smile and briefly squeeze his hand, before letting your grip fall away. You wish him good night and head back to your room, pushing aside any lingering convictions that he’s watching your every step. It is much easier to fall asleep once you remember that Felix is but a few steps away, alive and well. 
When you wake up hours later, you’re relieved to realize that you feel far better than you did earlier. You didn’t seem to have another nightmare, thankfully. You prepare for the day and change into some casual clothes, before remembering that the party is today. You try to sneak through Felix’s room, only to find that he’s already awake. After he’s ready, the two of you head down to breakfast together. The meal is incredible, as usual.
After breakfast, you return to your room to find clothes on the bed. They’re clearly not yours—the fabric is incredibly luxurious and looks quite expensive. You glance around the room, but there’s no sign of the person who left this attire for you. Upon closer examination, you realize that it’s your exact sizing. You wonder if Felix’s parents got your sizes from the butler and ordered you something. That would certainly be very nice of them. 
Secretly, you’re thankful someone had the forethought to provide you clothes. You probably would’ve stuck out like a sore thumb if you had worn any of the clothing you brought from home. After all, you don’t really belong here. You’re just a temporary guest. 
With those thoughts in mind, you decide to unfold the clothes—revealing an elegant dress shirt and fine-pressed pants. The shirt is a fabric you’re unfamiliar with, and it shimmers as it catches the light. The color is quite beautiful—a cross between deep green and dark blue. Whoever purchased this outfit has good taste (or a lot of money to burn, or both). You’re almost too scared to put the outfit on, for fear of ruining the expensive fabric. Eventually, you manage to convince yourself to change clothes. As you turn to look at yourself in the mirror, you realize you barely look like yourself. That may be an exaggeration, but you still feel as if you look like an entirely different person—one who fits in here. You’re not sure how to feel about that. You had maintained that you wouldn’t change yourself to fit in at Saltburn, yet here you are—dressed as if these parties are a common occurrence for you. You take a deep breath and leave your room, deciding to walk around to get rid of some of your nerves. You eventually get roped into helping Venetia choose an outfit to wear, which kills some time. 
Before long, the sun is setting in the sky and the party is beginning. You have no idea where to go or what to do—you hardly know anyone here. You haven’t caught so much of a glimpse of Felix, Farleigh, or Venetia since the party started. You do manage to find Felix’s parents, and thank them profusely for the party. It’s probably not that big of a deal to them, but you still feel that expressing your gratitude is somewhat necessary. 
After that, you eventually manage to find yourself standing in one of the corners of the sprawling maze outside. You feel somewhat fatigued from the minimal social interaction you’ve had thus far, and you figure your absence won’t be a huge deal breaker for any of the other partygoers. They’re not here for you—they’re here for a party. The party just happens to coincide with your birthday. You’re not naive enough to think otherwise. 
“Enjoying the party?” A familiar voice cuts through the night air. You turn around, only to find Felix standing at the edge of the maze. He takes a few steps to break the distance between you. You cross your arms over your chest and try to hide how self-conscious you feel.
“Yeah, thanks,” you remark after a moment. “You?”
Felix just nods silently. He’s staring at you intently, his gaze flitting up and down your form. “You look nice.” He says after a moment of silence. His gaze is intense and you feel flames prickling up your skin. 
“Thanks,” you respond. You decide to mimic his scrutinizing gaze. “You too.” Not like that’s anything new, you think to yourself. Felix always looks nice. You’re given a reprieve from questioning that thought by Felix’s next remark. 
“Happy birthday,” he says.
“Thank you.” You manage to say moments later, once your tongue no longer feels ironed to the roof of your mouth. 
“I’m happy you’re here,” Felix murmurs, almost too quietly for you to hear. The night air seems to still around you.
“Me too,” you eventually admit. “It’s been… fun.” You’ve enjoyed this summer, enjoyed the time you’ve gotten to spend with Felix. You never would’ve expected yourself to enjoy spending time in a place like Saltburn, yet here you are. 
“I don’t want you to leave,” Felix admits. He’s looking up to the midnight sky as if it holds all the answers. The black wings on his back seem to gleam in the moonlight. He looks like a fallen angel. 
“Why?” You ask. 
Felix is staring at you as if the answer to that question is extremely obvious. He then rubs a hand over his face, before turning to face the statue in the courtyard. The wings extending from his turned back create a harsh silhouette on the grass. “Why do you think I brought you here?” He suggests. 
“Your parents wanted me here,” you recount. 
“No,” Felix sighs, “Yes, but… no. That’s not the main reason.” You wait for him to continue. Somehow, this admission seems to be torturing him. He keeps pacing around restlessly, as if unable to keep still. Eventually, he shakes his head and comes to a stop, meeting your eyes. 
“I wanted to get to know you better,” Felix admits. “I hoped that, once I got to know you, everything else would go away.” Everything else?  He continues, immune to your confusion and wariness. “It didn’t. You came here, and now, the more I get to know you, the more I want to be around you.”
“Why?” You feel yourself blurting out. The words are spilling from your lips uncontrollably. “I’m just a normal student, an average person.”
“You’re far from it,” Felix argues. “And you should know that by now. You have to know by now.” 
“Know…  what?” You dare to say. 
Felix puts a hand over his face, evidently trying to gather his thoughts. You keep silent, despite your heart drumming quickly in your chest.  “I have feelings for you,” he says. “Nearly this entire time, I’ve had feelings for you. All throughout this summer.” 
Felix has feelings for you? Surely that can’t be the case. Hell, he could have anyone he wanted. He’s almost constantly showered in attention and praise. Why would he want to be with you of all people? You have virtually nothing to offer him that could be useful: you’re not wealthy, nor are you a regular partygoer with a penchant for trouble. You’re just… you. 
“You’re the only person that has ever bothered to try to get to know me for me,” Felix explains, as if sensing your self-deprecating thoughts. “Not as the eldest son of the Cattons. Just as Felix.” 
“You don’t buy into any of this bullshit,” he continues, his eyes wandering across the walls of the maze. You immediately know he’s referring to the splendor of Saltburn, the unspoken expectations that nearly suffocate the air around you. Felix inhales slowly. “Not to mention, you’re wicked smart. Compassionate. Attractive.”
He’s taking a step towards you. Then another. You don’t stop him, and he pauses in front of you. You don’t think you’ve seen his eyes sparkle like this before. 
“Can I kiss you?” Felix asks, his hand slowly rising to break the air between you and fall to cradle your jaw. 
You nod wordlessly. For an awkward moment, neither of you move. Felix looks uncharacteristically hesitant. You huff a laugh and break the distance between you, putting your lips to his. 
In a few moments, Farleigh and Venetia will come across the both of you and you will each be teased relentlessly for the rest of the night. Felix’s parents will exchange knowing looks when Felix and you walk into breakfast the next morning hand in hand. And Duncan, the butler, will have a wry curve to his lips—an almost indistinguishable smile—to show his hard-won approval. For now, though, you are left to embrace Felix under the shimmering moonlight, surrounded by a labyrinth of hedges and gilded mansion walls that no longer look nearly as intimidating as they once did.
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whewww! i really got carried away there, didn't i? i just adore the idea of Felix being bewildered by someone not falling head over heels for him. like, the irony of him catching feelings for the *one* person who doesn't actually seem to like him... it's just too good.
i *could* write a farleigh/reader fic... so lmk if that's something y'all would want to see. no promises, though. (if i were able to write it, it would probably be much shorter than this fic, bc this one absolutely ran away from me).
anyway, hope you enjoyed this! thanks for reading! <3
taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall
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hazbinhappy · 9 months ago
Note
Hi! First of all, happy spring break! I hope you enjoy your time off! ♡
I love Husk so much, he needs love to heal his dead heart 💔 so maybe femreader who's at the hotel with everyone and he finds himself catching feelings. And it terrifies the hell outta him. He hasn't felt anything like it in so so long, maybe nothing ever this strong. He has no idea what to do about it but the longer he's around her, it becomes more and more difficult to keep his feelings to himself. (If you like angst, maybe he pushes her away at first and she's hurt by it and it leads to a blow up which ends in his confession.)
Aaaand an idea for Overlord!Husk. We still don't know much about that part of his story, but let's say one of the souls he owns is readers. How he got her soul can be up to you. He starts to develop real feelings for her but she doesn't think they're genuine since she thinks she's just his "pet"
A/N: I am enjoying my spring break! Just lounging around, playing video games, and drawing! And of course writing and doing matchups! I hope I do these two well! I separated them with separate gifs! I changed up the first one a bit! god i just love overlord husk my man my man my man i went so hard on this for husk actually not being my top favorite (he is a top 3 three) I decided to mix the singer one with this overlord husk due to catching feels and being sweet <3
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I feel like he is someone who clocks his feelings quickly or ignores the fuck outta them until he can’t anymore
I think in his past life he may have been married, but divorced because of his alcoholism and gambling addiction
So when he meets you he’s fine in the beginning. You’re just a soul who is trying out this redemption thing. So what?
But then you start to come to the bar more and more often. You don’t even get alcoholic drinks. Just Shirley Temple’s or non-alcoholic versions of drinks.
It confuses him because why come to the bar, silently have a drink, and then leave?
Eventually you start to talk with him, but you’re sober. You’re not drunkenly confessing anything, you’re just making light conversation, maybe a thing or two about your past or current life.
Soon, maybe a couple months, he starts opening up too and enjoys having conversations with you and in fact looks forward to when your freetime matches up so you can talk or even play cards (“What’s on the table?” “It’s just a friendly game of poker, Husk. Nothing more, nothing less.”)
Angel teases him one day about how he’s smiling more and seems to perk up whenever he hears your voice or even the mention of your name
That’s when it really sets into his mind and he starts to think about it.
Unfortunately that soon leads to him becoming avoidant and shut off from conversations leading to the same on your end as well before evolving into you guys simply not talking anymore
This actually upsets Angel and Charlie (moreso Charlie, but Angel decides to take care of it because we all know how Charlie can get a bit too involved in things)
Angel and you have a little heart to heart and Angel just…. He just laughs because it’s funny to him! You two are old souls who used to be married (and divorced) and y’all don’t know how to handle love anymore!
Angel comes up with this big grandiose plan on to confess but you settle on just a simple “smoke break” confession/trapping him on a break
Husk is standing on the balcony for a breather as you slip in behind him. He goes to leave but you purposefully block the door.
It’s a back and forth mini-argument. You planned on confessing first, but then he just blurts it out like a middle schooler admitting his first crush.
It’s a bit silly. This old man just blurts out his feelings as you’re standing there silent.
It’s a sweet moment to though because you give him a hug and cheek kiss (sorry I am a sucker for those I find them adorable) before confessing as well
Thankfully the hotel can run as normal without all the tension
Poor Alastor though he was loving all the misery and sadness coming from you two, mainly from Husk; he provided no real good advice
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Did you know that most casinos don’t have clocks or windows so you don’t know how long you’ve been there and keep staying :D
So the only person with a watch is Husk and that is like a hidden pocket watch that he only checks when he gets a drink
I think that reader may have been one of the first souls he got! Or maybe the first he got specifically for the casino. He wanted some entertainment for the place to also keep people coming or staying so that’s what he uses your soul for!
He probably just smooth talked you into it or you made a silly bet and lost so you now have to work for him. So your relationship doesn’t necessarily start bad because you don’t hate him depending on if you choose the losing bet option, but if you choose the tricked option then it doesn’t start off well
Eventually it does get better over the years!
He starts to pay you a bit more and finally allow people to tip you; he doesn’t mind if you gamble because I like to believe that he houses people in an area above the casino so he has another layer of control as well
He tells his workers whether or not it’s daytime if they ask in private; when people know what time it is for your show they’ll be an announcement of like “Show in thirty minutes” so patrons are still in the dark about the actual time
He now doesn’t visit your shows with the idea “Yeah I own them”, but instead “Aren’t they gorgeous and saying a good job, say they’re doing a good job or I’ll fucking cut you-”
 At this particular show you sing “Once Upon a Dream” (a song from your favorite movie as a child Sleeping Beauty came out in 1959) just to change it up from all of the loud game noises and yells in the casino
When you look over at Husk with that sweet smile and look as you walk around, even running your fingers across the back of his chair before doing so to some other people
It makes him feel giddy for some reason even though he wasn’t the only person who you gently touched… but he was the only person who you gave that look to
After your shift ends and you’re in the dressing room grabbing your things, he was leaning on the doorway smoking a cigar
“So, doll, do you look at everyone that way when you sing or just me?”
“Jesus, Husk! Warn a person before you sneak up on them.”
 “Apologies, so?”
“...Well…um…the song-”
“No is a sufficient answer.”
“No… I don’t look at everyone that way when I sing.”
“Mmm, nice to know. Have a good night.”
It’s not necessarily an odd conversation, but it’s not solidified in what you guys feel about each other
It is very flirty between y’all though and it’s known that you are off-limits and your are his
You question it a lot (and so do other people) considering he owns your soul and he specifically made you an entertainment piece at his casino, but he definitely takes you out and lets you have more freedom than the other souls, so your worries aren’t completely squashed, but you feel better
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lowkeyrobin · 9 months ago
Note
MCYT with artist reader and like R makes them art all the time weather it's using them as an art reference and having a bunch of doodles of them, or painting full portraits of them, or like painting pictures of their pets🪩🩷🥹🛸
ooooo I'm an artsy weirdo so here you go!!! thanks for the request ; also this is the day I figure out the ufo emoji existed
MCYT ; artsy reader
includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers
warnings ; language
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
bro u got a whole sketchbook dedicated to doodles of him and his character versions in mc smps (dsmp, osmp, etc)
you love painting him in watercolors 🫶🫶
you made him a watercolor portrait thing with the HTBAB logo behind him, freddie & jack
he treasures the art you give him
literally frames it and hangs it on the wall or puts it on the shelves in his office
sometimes he'll take a picture of them and posts them w ur consent to show off your talent
"look what y/n made me 🫶" or "now wtf why can't I have this kind of talent?"
will chill out with you while you're drawing/painting etc
you go over to his parents house ONCE and make a family portrait + the dogs for them
that painting hangs above their fireplace, his parents look at it everyday
he does little drawing competitions with you on stream just to bond with you a bit and make you laugh
like the "we go back to school" video, the paint gets everywhere because of him LMAO
will straight up show off your sketchbooks on stream too
RANBOO
absolutely loves showing off your art and praising you for it
you've made them so much genloss fanart
you even made them a few channel banners, especially after the rebrand (and they will never change them ever again omg)
gives you a bunch of ideas for drawing
you love drawing the lanky d!ranboo and gl!ran especially w the mask and wide arrangement of wires and stuff
you made a textured painting of genloss!ranboo and it sits on one of the shelves in his office
he's obsessed with touching it and feeling the paint
its like feeling the hours of work you put into it, something just for them
also loves posing for you
they will get so extravagant and unique with it LMAO
FREDDIE BADLINU
anything you make for him is a treasure
you made a little portrait of him and his closest friends, and it hangs on his bedroom wall where he can see it constantly
shows off your art and totally praises you for it
does silly poses for you to reference
you've made him a couple screensavers and stream starting soon pages
he absolutely loves your color pallettes good god
Freddie in acrylic paint>>>>>
"guys look at what my amazing partner made me today 🫶❤️"
sends you links to Instagram shorts or whatever to little crafts/ideas if you're having artist block
he finds a notebook full of sketches and random blurbs of/about him when you get bored and shit and have nothing better to do
absolutely head over heels because the fact you spend so much time making art of/for him, omg
if you bleach-paint shirts yk damn well he's wearing whatever you made him 24/7
NIKI NIHACHU
absolutely loves your character designs for her characters, they're all so unique and different and she loves it
your designs of osmp!niki are her favorite, considering she's literally a mermaid
the art you make with all her tattoos and piercings>>> omg
either totally adorable or totally badass
"more biker! niki bc she needs to learn how to bike rn... @/nikinihachu"
"amazing as always y/n/n 🫶 maybe I will..."
loves just quietly watching you do your thing
her and watercolor paints will never not be perfect
you make a whole mural for her because you got bored...
it's an abstract kind of goth-ish mermaid kinda thing on one of her office walls, and 'nihachu' spread across it in white, kinda cursive lettering, it's amazing
always making silly little doodles of her too
ALEX QUACKITY
cant even comprehend how talented you are
he always sees you drawing him and painting him and he's like "bro go touch grass u spend too much time thinking about me"
you also made a textured painting for Tiger
it's his prized possession, he loves it to much
almost broke down and cried when you gave it to him
loves looking at all the little doodles, drawings and character designs
his favorites are the ones of him with dynamic arm poses, even if you think they're bad
he thinks it adds a lot more personality and makes him look better LMAO
he loves and appreciates that you spend so much time on something about/for him, and so often as well
he looks so good in gouche paints that's all I'm saying
and in a kinda graffiti style as well omg
FOOLISH GAMERS
absolutely adores all the art you make of him
he'll even pose so you can get references and shit LMAO
him and watercolor paints... lord
AND COLORED PENCILS
any painting you've made for him is hung up on the wall
loves seeing your character designs for his dsmp/qsmp etc characters
he also shows them off online and points out all the cool things you've added and shit
even if it's just simple doodles of him, you'll add a splash of color w a marker or highlighter and he thinks it looks so awesome
you have post it notes all over your wall thatre just doodles of him and shit
you painted his shark logo on a giant canvas for him for a YouTube video
like 59 hours later you completed it and gave it to him as a birthday gift
he doesn't shut up about it after that
literally brags about it like he's a 15yo who just got a girlfriend for the first time before all his other friends
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missterious-figure · 6 months ago
Note
You might have seen me raiding your blog for all the harpy boy art earlier. XD
Seeing the baby versions of the boys was so cute!!! Now I'm just picturing y/n having to briefly care for a newly hatched harpy and cooing over them, only to have one or all of the boys flock to them and tease them about starting their own family. Those majestic bastards.
A small baby harpy had just recently been given into your care. He was a little peafowl chick named Sky. Right now, you were carrying him back from the medical wing after a check up. The whole reason you were caring for him was because his parents were both very sick.
He himself hadn't been sick, luckily, but he missed his parents. You glanced down at him worriedly. He was a little chocolate brown fluff of feathers with hazel and black stripes. His grey scaly arms and legs curled up in a fetal position as you cradled him. He looked up at you from your arms with blue eyes, big and round. Precious little gems gleaming at you.
But they were cloudy. He was sad. He was only a newly hatched chick and couldn't speak yet. However, he didn't have to tell you for you to know he was miserable. You sighed. You needed to head to the safari zone to get him to the hatchling care area. An area pesky guests couldn't bother him. But to get there, you had to pass the casino's gardens. The place was often filled with people. And seeing a baby harpy would instantly draw attention. But you had to go there anyway.
As soon as you stepped foot into the garden, your prediction was right. Many people began to crowd you, snap pictures of poor baby, and try to touch him. You desperately tried to shoo them away to no avail. One particularly stuck up woman pinched his little cheek rather hard, which made him cry. You finally snapped.
"Back off! Stop touching him!"
The crowd pulled away and the woman yanked her hand back. She look offended, as if you had just told her to kill herself or something. You pulled his head into the crook of your neck to hide his little face. It broke your heart to feel his small tears wet your skin. As you tried to comfort poor Sky, the woman regained her competence.
"Excuse me! How dare you yell at me!"
You didn't turn to her but you politely said back,
"Sorry, but the safety of the baby harpy is my top priority as a zookeeper."
The woman snorted,
"Where's your manager? I'm a high paying patron, I doubt he would be happy to hear that you lost a valuable customer."
You were about to answer her when three large shadows appeared behind the woman. Of course, it was Sun, Moon, and Eclipse. The lady whipped around to see them towering above her, glaring fiercely. Eclipse was first to speak.
"All staff have the right to tell guests off if it involves the safety or comfort of a harpy. Especially a baby harpy."
He was cold as he addressed her. Sun was next to chime in.
"Besides, this little one needs a nap! So leave the zookeeper be so they can do their job, okay?"
Sun sounded cheerful, but his sharp gaze said the opposite. Moon didn't speak and stood ominously next to his brothers. The woman was now as friendly and sweet as ever.
"I was just-"
"Going? Good idea."
The woman glanced back to you, then to the boys, before swiftly walking back the direction she came. All the brothers stared daggers into her back as they watched her leave. Eclipse turned and scowled down at the remaining crowd and it suddenly disappeared. Sky looks up from your neck and giggles at the three adult harpies. The three boys coo to him as they guided you the rest of the way to the safari zone. As the four of you walked, you sighed, relieved.
"Thanks guys."
"Any thing for you and our new little baby!"
Sun said teasingly.
"W-What? Our? Sun! This chick already has parents!"
"We know, but wouldn't it be fun to pretend?"
"At least, until we have our own together."
Moon chuckled.
You blush. These stupid bastards!
124 notes · View notes
writingtraumaforever · 11 days ago
Text
Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 16
Notes: Things are tensing up!
Summary: Sonic and Shadow finally get in touch with Tails.
Chapter Select!
Link to my AO3!
Start:
“Got any twos??”
“Mm.. go fish.”
“Damn.”
Shadow draws another card with a sigh, sitting in the floor while leaned back on one hand and holding his cards in the other. Sonic is sitting criss-crossed with his elbows on his knees and cheek rested in one hand while holding his cards in the other.
In other words: very bored.
“Got any sevens?”
“Fuck you, you’re cheating.”
“I’m not! How would I be cheating???”
“I don’t know. Some sort of weird chaos power I don’t know about??”
“…A chaos power that allows me to see game cards??”
“It would be baller at the Casino Zone.”
Shadow sighs and rolls his eyes at this, tossing his cards on the floor in front of him before pushing himself up to stand, “I need a drink.”
Sonic watches him before standing up as well to follow behind him, fully prepared to grab his guest a beverage only to find Shadow helping himself to the fridge.
Weird.
Shadow seems so comfortable in Tails’ place. Like he’s use to it or adjusted to it or something. 
Honestly, there’s a lot about this Shadow that’s odd to Sonic. But he doesn’t quite know how to bring any of it up without potentially making things awkward.
Ever since Shadow held Sonic’s hand in the hospital, Sonic hasn’t dared to push the matter. Though, he has his suspicions..
Like maybe this Shadow thinks of Sonic as a brother or something?? Like Tails.
Tails would totally hold Sonic’s hand in a stressful situation.
Bro things, ya’know??
Shadow pulls out a water bottle before turning back to Sonic as he opens it, “No contact from Miles yet??”
“Nope,” Sonic shakes his head, popping the ‘p’ with a shrug, “He’ll call soon, though, I’m sure.”
Shadow hums and drinks from his bottle, “So.. what exactly caused this need for everyone to up and go on their own self discovery adventures, anyway??”
“Oh! Well. It’s a long story,” Sonic says as his eyes drift away, not really wanting to rehash the whole Starfall Islands fiasco.
“We literally have nothing but time,” Shadow deadpans, “Unless you want to play another round of Go Fish? Or Uno??”
“Nah, I’m good,” Sonic insists with a little snort, “What if we went for a run instead??”
Shadow quirks a brow at how adamant Sonic seems to no want to talk about what happened with him and his friends, “…Rouge said not to leave because GUN likely was surveilling us.”
Sonic smirks at this, “Can’t surveil what’s too fast to see.”
Shadow huffs, crossing his arms, “I’m not potentially getting GUN involved anymore than they already are.”
Sonic tilts his head at this, looking at Shadow with a quirk of his brow before leaning against the nearby counter, “Why are you so scared of them??”
“I’m not scared,” Shadow answers with a little frown, looking down at his water bottle as he rubs his gloved thumb along the ridges of the cap, “I simply don’t wish to have to cross paths with them if I can help it.”
“Ya’know— Shadow works for GUN.”
“So I’ve gathered..,” Shadow mutters, taking another drink. 
“You don’t seem too thrilled about that.”
“Why would I be??” Shadow huffs, seeming to have been poked in the wrong place with how he snaps, “To think any version of myself would dare to work for that corrupted monstrosity of an organization after what they did?!—“
Shadow pauses upon seeing how Sonic’s ears fold back a bit at his raised voice, sighing and collecting himself before muttering, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just.. frustrating is all.”
Sonic just looks at Shadow a moment, brows knit a bit as he tries to think of something to say that won’t trigger the guy again.
“..I think— not to defend the guy, but… I think Shadow just wanted to protect the earth in the best way he knew how. And he thought GUN was a good place to start.”
“Why would that be the place to start??? They’re cruel and corrupt—“
“Hey. No arguments here on that,” Sonic snorts with a shrug, “I don’t really care for them much either..” he pauses a moment before adding, “Maybe ask Rouge?? She knows Shadow way better than I do. Maybe she could provide some insight.”
“It still blows my mind she knows another version of myself so well,” Shadow admits with a shrug, “I’ve barely even spoken to the bat back on my world. Let alone worked as her partner.”
Sonic snorts a bit, “You and her’s dynamic works shockingly well here in this world. Honestly, I was glad to see the two of them getting close..”
“How come?” Shadow asks, his ear twitching with curiosity.
“Well-.. I mean, I just.. it was nice seeing you, ya’know.. not alone..,” Sonic admits as he rubs the back of his neck, looking away a bit shy.
Shadow smiles a bit at this— something Sonic still hasn’t gotten use to— and takes another sip of his drink as he eyes the blue hedgehog a bit analytically..
“Didn’t realize you cared.”
“Yeah, well. I got a big heart,” Sonic plays off with a little grin, winking at Shadow and causing the black hedgehog to chuckle in response.
“That you do..”
Sonic just smiles a bit as he looks at Shadow only to jolt a bit when the sudden ringing of his communicator goes off from the living room.
“Ah shit— Tails!”
He dashes into the living room, picking up the communicator in seconds.
“Tails, buddy! Was startin’ to worry about ya!”
“Yeah, sorry,” the young fox smiles sheepishly on the screen, rubbing the back of his neck with a wrench in hand, “Got carried away making modifications on the Tornado and didn’t hear my beeper go off.”
“Hey, no sweat, pal! Just glad to see you’re alright,” Sonic winks, glancing up as Shadow slowly makes his way into the living room.
“Heh. Yeah,” Tails chuckles, concern growing in his eyes then, “By the way— are you alright?? Your message said it was an emergency..”
“Oh! Yeah, um… okay, you may wanna sit down for this.”
Tails blinks before slowly moving to sit down with an “ohhh boy. Okay, shoot.”
“Alright,” Sonic takes a deep breath before speed running through his explanation, “So Shadow apparently went on some top secret GUN mission the other day, and briefly went missing after an explosion only to be found knocked out a few miles away. They took him in and treated him, but when he woke up, he was all weird and stuff. But the real weird part was that all his scans showed he didn’t hit his head or anything, so Rouge suspected something else was going on. He refused to talk to anyone but me, so I got pulled in and he talked then. And boy did he have some crazy stuff to say. He acted like he didn’t know Rouge and held my hand—“
“He held your hand???”
“—Ya. That’s what I said. Anyway, Rouge mentioned his Chaos Energy was off the scales when they found him, so we kinda figure maybe something happened with that. Then Shadow explained he had used the fake chaos emerald to chaos control— oh, except he wasn’t on a mission for GUN, but was on a mission with us instead! So he used chaos control to save another me’s ass—“
“Woah woah woah..,” Tails interrupts, holding his hands up with a lost expression on his face, “You’re losing me, Sonic.. a mission with us?? I’ve been away, and—“
“No, no, no, there’s another us.”
Tails blinks at Sonic with a perplexed expression and Sonic just nods as if it makes total sense.
“…what??”
Shadow sighs, having heard enough of Sonic’s poor explanation and walking over to stand behind where the hero sits on the couch to be seen on screen.
Tails blinks at that, looking surprised, “Oh— um.. h-hi Shadow.”
“Hey Kid,” Shadow smirks slightly, “Sonic is absolutely atrocious at communication—“
“Hey!”
“—So let me just paraphrase the situation. I am not this world’s Shadow. I come from a different world where our timelines are slightly off. The running theory is that my use of the fake chaos emerald along with your world’s Shadow’s use of the fake chaos emerald somehow possibly switched us up. Or on a more morbid theory, your Shadow died in the explosion and the universe had to somehow mend this loss with another version of him. Either way— we’re pretty confused over here and could use your brain.”
Tails stares wide eyed with his mouth dropped open. Sonic can’t tell if it’s because of everything Shadow said or the fact Shadow said so much to him.
Sure as hell, Tails chuckles and, “I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard Shadow say. This world’s or not.”
“Right?!” Sonic laughs, “It’s weird, right???”
“Very,” Tails nods, though his smile fades a bit then, “But this is serious. If there’s alternate dimension jumping involved, there’s no telling what sort of damage this could do to space and time itself!”
“Like what??” Sonic frowns, Shadow leaning over him to listen too.
“Like— oh, gee.. um.. well lots of things, really! There’s endless possibilities with this sort of stuff! Gravity changes. Time jumps— Black holes that could swallow up entire worlds!“
Sonic and Shadow both swallow hard at the same time, not fully having realized how potentially diar their situation actually was.
“…Sweet!” Sonic says sarcastically, “We love world-swallowing holes.”
Shadow snorts a bit behind him and Sonic’s head snaps around to narrow his eyes at this Shadow’s immaturity. 
“Get it together, Shads,” Sonic chastises playfully and hypocritically.
He then returns his gaze to Tails on the screen, “Exactly how much time would we have before something like that happened??”
“Oh, there’s no telling,” Tails shrugs with a frown, “Again, this is space and time we’re talking about. Could be years. Could be seconds.”
Shadow’s hands clench a bit tighter on the back of the couch, Sonic’s own body tensing every second they talk about this.
“…Awesome.. so uh. You think you could—“
“Already typing the coordinates back home in,” Tails responds, Sonic breathing a small sigh of relief that his little brother is coming back home, “I should be there by morning!”
“Great!! Don’t exactly know where to even start without our team’s genius here to carry us,” Sonic boasts, trying to stay optimistic despite recent revelations.
Tails offers a sideways smile, moving to stand again, “Well this genius needs to get the Tornado tuned up and flying!”
“Right. Do that. We’ll be here waiting!”
“Alright, sounds like a plan. Bye, Sonic!”
“See ya, buddy!”
The connection is ended.
Sonic lets the communicator fall on his lap with a light thump, tilting his head back to look up at Shadow from his upside down angle. Shadow looks back down at him with a small frown.
They both sigh.
“Why must you always bring drama, Edgelord??”
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pixelblue2016 · 1 month ago
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[@themissingnumbers - blue (i did end up deciding to do it eheh. also do NOT feel the need to draw this i can't keep things short for the life of me)]
"... Hey."
He isn't sure how he got here. Not sure what he's trying to accomplish. Sure as anything, though- keeping his distance out of hesitation, uncertainty- there's another Blue. Taller. Older. Tired. He stares at the younger boy with an expression that almost seems... Sad.
"Uh... Gods, what do I..."
He rubs the back of his neck, searching for his words.
"I... Heard about you. About this. 'bout what happened. Guess it struck a chord. You're still... young, though- and you've got a good friend up there, it seems."
He glances up at Justine, waving through the screen, before turning his attention back to Pixel.
"I guess I just wanted to... meet ya, y'know? It's not every day you get to see somethin' like your younger- or, older for you- self."
Blue sighs heavily, his expression dropping.
"... I'm sorry about Revvy. I know how hard it is to lose someone you care about so much. For the world to turn against you cus of it. To want to change things so bad, but you're just... powerless. I- I'm glad you've got a real pal, though. I think that... that's somethin' that'll take you far."
Finally, he smiles at the younger boy, eyes lighting up a bit.
"Gods, that's heavy, huh? I guess all to say- I get it, I think. And I'm happy ya got someone there for you. How did you guys become friends? What's the rest of your life been like, uh... Living with her, I guess?"
Blue── Er, well, Pixel, turns around to the source of the voice. He seemed hesitant at first, shoulders rising up to his ears. He never expected another version of himself to visit him, let alone an adult one. He looked so. . . Odd. Pixel couldn't put his finger on it.
As soon as the other greeted Justine though, Pixel felt himself relax more. It seems like this was safe, seeing that the player gave a thumbs up back to Blue.
Pixel listens, thoughts running around, especially when Revvy was mentioned. It's painful to hear his name uttered from someone else, but he can manage it. It's rude to make faces at a guest, so Pixel bites his bottom lip to keep his expression neutral.
“So it's… it's you, right? The um,”
Pixel gestures over to Blue,
“It feels nice that I'm not the only one── I mean! Obviously it's, it's not great but, it's just nice that there's other people like me, I guess? Or are me? This is weird──Not that you're weird!”
He nervously chuckles, he can't help but smile. Taking a step or two closer, the child leans side to side, studying Blue. Super tall, lanky. Pixel wondered if this is what he could have looked like if he were to have grown up someday. Would he have hair like this? Clothes like that?
Would he still have his eye if he didn't…
Ah! A question was directed to him, and he was staring!
“Sorry!”
C'mon, Pix! Be polite! He mumbles, giving out some “um” and “uh” noises as he wiggles his hands,
“It's um, it's nice to see you, first of all sir── sir? I um, I dunno what you call you, sorry── but to answer your question,”
He glanced back at the player, who holds the 3DS patiently. Justine blinks and directs her attention to the bottom screen. Oh whoa, Pixel projected a little drawing down there!
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“I wanted to delete my game, and Gramps wanted to also. We talked about it before I talked to Justine about it, but… she really didn't like that idea.
She convinced me that the game doesn't have to be played normally to… function? I think that's the word. But um, yeah. We pretty much talked for a while and it turned into a habit where she'd visit me everyday before she went to school.
She showed me some cool stuff from her world, like other games, some TV shows, and movies. I really um, I really like hanging out with her! She helps me sort out my thoughts about… about the stuff that happened in my game.”
Pixel smiles warmly as he explains. While talking, he lightly rocks on his heels,
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“I really am lucky to have someone like her. It makes me sad that some other beings like me and you don't have that kind of a player out there.”
Pixel’s smile alters once he glanced back up to his older self. He gulps, a finger pointing up── no wait, that's rude too. He pulls it back,
“Please let me know if this is rude to ask but um…
Why are your hands . . . Blue?”
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world0fmadness · 2 months ago
Text
BABY NAMES, PART I
okay, wether you guys want it or not, here are the names with their meanings found on websites and what i imagine some of the babies to look like! but i will never name them in the works so if you do not like these names, you can replace them for whatever you want, i would actually love to hear the names you guys think they would like or your thoughts on these that i chose! i know i am not all that great with names at all but i tried to pick nice ones and ones i think actually fit the father… i think this is honestly a little too long and in depth like oh my god, i do not know where this came from, i was not feeling all that inspired tonight then boom… so enjoy this lolol <3
dad! pelle has a daughter named calliope ohlin and a son named casper ohlin…
♡ calliope means “ beautiful voice ” from greek κάλλος meaning “ beauty ” and ὄψ meaning “ voice ” in greek mythology she was a goddess of epic poetry and eloquence, one of the nine muses!
calliope looks exactly like you! she has your hair, your eyes and just so many of your features, she looks like your twin! the only thing she inherited from pelle was his bone structure and that only really starts to show when she enters her teenage years! pelle absolutely loves this though, he thinks it was one of the major reasons he was able to open his heart to her so quickly after she was born, because she just looked so much like you… she was so undeniably your daughter, your child… whenever he looked at her soft face, looked into her gentle eyes, all he saw was a mini version of you, someone he knew he just wanted to shower in love and support, someone he knew he needed to protect…
casper is the opposite and looks exactly like pelle! he has his bright blue eyes, his blonde hair that only shines brighter in summer, his bony nose and a similarly indented chin! this is why in a similar opposite fashion, pelle felt it was harder to immediately bond with his son after the birth, he felt it was harder to open his heart to him because of how much of himself he saw in his son… how much she saw his younger self, how much he felt like he was looking into a mirror of the past! pelle was just so afraid of tarnishing your son, of somehow corrupting him and his happiness by simply being around him… because all he saw was his younger self, all he saw was the child so long ago that would soon run into so much cruelty and sadness in life! but of course, with a lot of support and reassurance from you that he would never hurt your son, that your son would only ever see him as his father, he was quick to open his heart to him too, just as he did for calliope…
as a father, pelle is beyond subtly proud of the name calliope for his daughter! he thinks it just fits her so well! he thinks she has such a creative soul, even when she was so young with her little messy finger paintings and scribbled crayon drawings, he immediately knew he had a strong creative and inspired soul… so much like him, as you say to him which always makes him blush and feel even more shy pride! and calliope is absolutely his muse, she became his muse right alongside you the second she was growing in your womb… he adored drawing you when you were holding her in your stomach and now, he loves to draw her as he sees her! every time he looks at her, he feels a rush of inspiration and a want to craft! both you and her are his muses, eventually his son too!
dad! bård has a daughter named selene eithun…
♡ selene means “ moon ” in greek! this was the name of a greek goddess of the moon, a titan! she was sometimes identified with the goddess artemis!
selene looks almost exactly like bård but she does have a fair few of your features too! but when you look at her, you mainly see bård… she has his brown hair, his big brown doe eyes and his pronounced, naturally slightly pouted lips! she certainly got his height too! despite being a pretty short and petite child, she hit a major growth spurt in her teenage years and is just a little taller than the average girl! but when she was a newborn and toddler, she was definitely one of those chunky little babies! she had the chubbiest little apple red cheeks and pudgy arms, bård thought she was absolutely adorable and always claimed she just had to be the cutest baby in the world, she was too perfect to him! he loved peppering so many kisses to her chunky arms and chubby cheeks when she was a baby, he bathed in the glory that came with hearing her high pitched giggles and squeals as he did it, he could not get enough of seeing a gummy smile with just a few tiny teeth showing through stretching across her rosy red cheeks! it just manages to wash away so many of his insecurities, his fears that maybe he is not a great father…
when selene was a newborn, bård was very aware of the meaning of her name and got her a little astrology mobile to go in her crib instead of the usual sheep or animal one! not to mention how many glow in the dark stars and moons he stuck up on the ceiling of your shared bedroom in your apartment when her crib was in your room… bård thinks the name fits her so well, she is his treasure, his moon! when she is old enough to not choke on things, he buys both you and your daughter a matching necklace, both silver chains holding one half of a shiny moon! to be honest, a lot of his gifts to her in life, from the moment she was born, revolve around astrology and especially the moon! he is absolutely the type of father to fully support her childhood dream of wanting to become an astronaut!
older! bård definitely gets a moon tattooed somewhere in his arm sleeve tattoo, likely when she is in her teenage years! it is a beautiful tattoo dedicated just to his moon… he likely has a star tattooed somewhere on his body too but from when he was younger, it was one of his first few tattoos and it was dedicated you, his special star, the love of his life and mother of his child!
dad! øystein has identical twin girls named alva aarseth and audra aarseth…
♡ alva is the feminine form of alf! derived from old norse alfr meaning “ elf ” in norse legend this was the name of king, the suitor of a reluctant maiden named alfhild! she avoided marrying him by disguising herself as a warrior, but when they fought she was so impressed by his strength that she changed her mind!
♡ audra means “ storm ” in lithuanian!
both alva and audra just look like complete doubles of øystein, they look like factory made female replicas of him! sometimes you spend minutes studying their faces, trying to find any traces of your own genes in their appearance but you find very few… they have his natural blonde hair, his small button nose, his soft face and so on… they just mirror all of his physical features! and it only got more and more noticeable as they got older, especially in their teenage years when both decided they wanted to dye their hair black after looking at old pictures of their father! øystein went through a crisis in the early months of their lives, he liked to dress them identically because he thought it was funny to see double of his baby but the humour would quickly turn into panic when he realised he could not decipher who was who… that’s why the both of you spend time stitching their names into clothes whenever they get new dresses or onesies! he does get much better at knowing who is who within a couple of months, he just found little ways to differentiate them! and that is when he finds it funny to dress them in the same outfits once again, seeing them in the exact same outfit, with the exact same ribbons in their hair just makes him laugh so much! øystein is also incredibly smug about how much they look like him, he is just so smug and proud…
whenever a storm rolls around, with rain hitting against the glass windows of your shared apartment, øystein likes to hold audra on his hip and stand in front of one of the windows, looking down at her as shadows of water droplets reflect inside through the window and against her curious face, watching with a small smile as her wide eyes follow the raindrops and her little hands grasp his sweater tightly… audra lives up to her name in two ways! one way being that she loves storms, she was never scared and afraid of rainstorms or thunderstorms! she always just wanted to sit at the window with her father whilst you built a pillow fort with alva! the second way being that she was an absolute storm of a child… she was hyper and rowdy, every time after playing, the apartment would look like a tornado had run through it!
dad! vegard has a daughter named violet tveitan…
♡ violet is derived from the english word violet for the purple flower, ultimately derived from latin viola! it was common in scotland from the 16th century, and it came into general use as an english given name during the 19th century!
violet is a very balanced mix between both you and vegard! she has your eyes but his frizzy and curly black hair, she has your nose but his mouth and an abundance of other little features… both you and vegard see the others features so strongly in her! he thinks she looks like your twin and you think she looks like his! the only thing the two of you can absolutely agree on is that your genes never stood a chance when it came to his hair! literally the second you told him you were pregnant, he knew that baby was going to have his hair, he just knew it! because the hair type is pretty particular and specific when it comes to care and washing, vegard likes to be the one to help her with it! he is more than happy to help you learn how to deal with her hair better too, obviously, but nothing makes him happier than sitting her on his knee and tying her frizzy black hair into little pigtails with little purple ribbons…
i feel like the name violet would come after a lot of thought with vegard, he was thinking about names every day right after you told him you were pregnant! but the two of you could just never decide on a name, nothing rolled off the tongue right before violet popped into his head when he saw you, late in your pregnancy with a very sizeable bump, wearing a deep violet maternity dress… he just thought the colour was beautiful on you, hugging your bump that cradled his baby… once the name was decided, ihsahn was determined to paint her already prepared wooden crib a light violet purple before you gave birth! not to mention how many little violet bows and outfits he buys for her with what little money he has… i feel like he would even switch his usual guitar picks to glittery violet purple picks just for her, to honour his little girl during emperor shows in the most subtle yet thoughtful way!
a slight bonus one here because i have not made his dad! headcanons yet but i wanted to include him <3
dad! varg has twins with the daughter being named vígdís vikernes and the son being named vidar vikernes…
♡ vígdís is derived from the old norse elements víg “ war ” and dís “ goddess ”
♡ vidar derived from old norse víðarr, which was possibly derived from víðr “ wide ” and herr “ army, warrior ” in norse mythology víðarr was the son of odin and grid! at the time of the end of the world, ragnarök, it is said he will avenge his father's death by slaying the wolf fenrir
whilst vígdís and vidar are twins, they are not identical twins! they actually look pretty different from each other… surprisingly, vígdís looks more like her father whilst vidar looks look you! it turns into a kind of daddy’s girl and mama’s boy situation too… at first, varg was not a super overly loving and father towards his little girl, it took him some time to fully open his heart to a daughter, took him a little while to allow her to practice braiding his long blonde hair with colourful ribbons! but he so obviously loves her, so obviously loves both her and his son! he softens a whole lot and almost entirely drops the front he was putting up of being a headstrong and ignorant guy! when he sees how happy it makes her to be able to play with his long hair and feels his hands braiding her hair, it is worth it… it is beyond worth it for him! with vidar, i think varg would really want him to toughen up and be a manly man, even as a child but that is extremely quick to drop too! especially when you tell him it is just… really not okay, that it will only upset his son and feel like he can never be good enough! he drops all of his bullshit after a good talking to from you because deep down all he wants if for you and his children to be happy…
no one in this world can convince me that varg would not want to name his twins some really norse names, some really strong and kind of uncommon names! he spent months during your pregnancy reading through mythology and history books, looking for meaningful names, unique names… he wants names that highlight their norse blood! even if you, their mother, yourself are not… i have no doubt in my mind that he would have at least two songs inspired by their names, made for them! the first majorly soft thing varg did towards your son was buy him a little wolf plushie from a store! it’s kind of ironic considering the mythology lore behind vidar and fenrir but it was cute nonetheless and the first bit of major affection he showed towards him when he was still a baby!
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dimplesandfierceeyes · 1 year ago
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Don't know if u r still taking bad buddy prompts. But if u r, high school patpran teaching kissing or practicing kissing and Pat realizing his feelings and getting together.
OP.
OP OP OP.
How did you know?
How did you know this was my weakness?
Anyway, when this prompt came in the whole plot basically appeared in my head fully formed and all I needed was the time to make it real. I hope you all enjoy!
~~~
Practice Makes Perfect
(I know, I know, the least original title ever)
Pran wasn’t sure when it had become an unspoken rule that they would meet in his bedroom. He guessed it made sense. Pat’s family was nosy; they walked in and out of each other’s bedrooms unannounced and didn’t seem to like doing anything alone if they could drag another person into it too. Still, every time Pat was in his room, Pran’s heart rate skyrocketed with anxiety. (Only anxiety, definitely only anxiety.)
Pat was here again, all lanky-limbed six-foot of him sprawled over Pran’s bed like he was entitled to it. He’d grown again. Up until last year they’d been neck-and-neck for height but this year, Pran had slowed down and Pat, annoyingly, hadn’t. Not only that, but his shoulders were getting broader too whilst Pran’s stayed stubbornly slim, just like his mae’s. Not for the first time, Pran wished he’d inherited more of his father’s easy musculature.
“So we just gotta watch the scene and answer these questions right?” Pat asked, staring at the sheet he was holding in front of him. He was lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows so he could screen while Pran had claimed the desk chair.
“Yes.” 
“Oh, cool! That’s easy.” 
They were working on literature homework: the interpretations of play adaptation. This was the second version of this play they were watching and the questions were mostly about drawing comparisons. Pran clicked on the file the teacher had uploaded and blinked as a thumbnail popped up showing two male characters.
“I thought this was supposed to be the kiss scene?” Pat questioned. “Has the teacher uploaded the wrong file?”
“I don’t think so. Nobody else has said it was a different scene,” Pran replied. He was still staring at the screen, his heart pumping so much faster than it should have been as he considered the only other possibility. 
“So basically it’s a BL version,” Pat laughed.
“I guess.” Pran furiously told his heart there was no difference between watching a straight kissing scene with Pat or watching a BL one. It didn’t listen.
“Alright, let’s get started, I guess.”
Pran had never wished for his parents to get home early from the weekly shop but it turned out there really was a first time for everything. Unfortunately, no engine noise rumbled up to the front gate and Pran was forced to accept that this was, in fact, happening. 
He could barely pay attention to the questions on the sheet of paper in front of him, though he spent as much time as he could staring down at it as the men on the screen danced around each other, feeling the other out, before finally shattering the tension, reaching for each other as if starving. Pran had watched the exact same scene in class between a man and a woman without even blinking. Now he was hot all over, hyper aware of Pat lying on his bed behind him watching two men kiss on his computer screen, and he could only hope that his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt they should be. 
The end of the scene couldn’t come soon enough.
“Okay,” Pran said as professionally as he could manage, lifting his sheet in the air to show he meant business as he quarter-turned in his chair so he had his profile to Pat. 
“What do you think it’s like for the actors? To kiss a guy, I mean,” Pat chimed in with his usual inability to not send Pran’s mind into chaos. 
“Pretty much like kissing a girl,” Pran replied tightly, lifting his sheet a little higher. It was once again ignored.
“Do you think it is? Just the same as a kissing a girl? I think it would be different.”
“Why would it be different? They’re both just people.” Pran replied, unable to believe he was actually locked into this conversation.
“I don’t know,” Pat shrugged. “Have you ever done it? Kissed a guy?” 
Pran barely managed not to choke on his own saliva. “Wh-What business is that of yours?” 
Pat’s eyes went as round as saucers, his mouth dropping open. “Wait, you have?”
“I didn’t say that,” Pran replied rapidly but he could see it was already too late.
“Holy shit, you have! Why didn’t you tell me?” If a tone of voice could be a pout, Pat’s would have been a prime example.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Who was it?”
“Why would I tell you that either?”
“You know all the girls I’ve kissed,” Pat complained.  
Unfortunately, Pran thought to himself. “It’s not like I ever asked for that information.”
Pat ignored the jibe, steamrolling over it. “So, was it? Was it different from kissing a girl?”
“None!” Pran replied spitefully, despite having never kissed a girl.
“Oh,” Pat looked disappointed. “Not at all?”
“What sort of difference should there be?” Pran asked, exasperated. 
“I don’t know, it just feels like there would be.” Pat frowned for a second before suddenly his expression released and he looked at Pran like he’d just thought of something. Pran got a sharp and defined sense of foreboding. “What if we tried it?”
“What?” Pran squeaked.
“I mean, I know you didn’t think there was a difference, but maybe it would be different for me,” Pat reasoned. 
"And this is my problem, how?" Pran managed to force out as his entire body launched into a state of panic hitherto only observed in mice fleeing a hungry cat. 
"Oh, come on," Pat whined in a way that was terrifyingly close to the way that had wheeled Pran into truly remarkable levels of trouble several times. "It's not like I'd be your first guy; I'd just be your second! It's not like it's special or anything."
"What kind of logic is that? Then I'd-I'd be your first!"
"I don't mind," Pat replied with a shrug and Pran's mind gurgled. 
He knew he had to say no, that if he kept just pointing out problems Pat would just keep countering them. But then he’d be saying no. To Pat kissing him.
“Come on, what do you want?” Pat asked, sounding exasperated.
“What?”
“I know you’re just stretching it out because you want me to agree to lose at something in return.”
“I don’t need you to agree to lose; I can make you lose any day.” Pran replied automatically. Pat rolled his eyes.
“Just name your terms, Parakul.”
Pran flung out an idea from the void. “The next rugby match. If I’m close to the goal post, find a way to fumble the ball to me.”
Pat frowned, brow furrowing as if in dilemma, before huffing dramatically. “Fine. The next match is yours.”
Pran’s already abused heart was electrocuted by the words, now hammering at double the speed. He’d agreed. He might not have actually said the words, but he’d agreed to let Pat kiss him. He didn’t know if he was a genius or insane. 
Pat seemed to be waiting for something and it took Pran a second to realise it was for him to walk over to the bed. His mind rebelled the idea, it felt too much like a capitulation to be the one to move. And what if he looked eager? He couldn’t bear the thought.
“I’m not going to you,” he said as dismissively as he could manage. “You were the one who wanted to see how different it was.”
Another huff was released and then Pat rolled his eyes so dramatically his whole head got involved in the action, but he did start to lift himself off the bed. 
Pran only realised what a mistake he’d made when Pat was already looming in front of him. Then Pat was leaning forwards and Pran was caged in, one of Pat’s hands on the desk next to him to steady himself and the other reaching for Pran’s cheek. It found it with a gentleness that was foreign, strange. Pran’s lungs pulled in short, sharp breaths through his nose as Pat’s long fingers settled around his ear and he was pinned by Pat’s uncertain gaze.
He waited for him to call it off, convinced that this alone would be enough to make Pat retreat, that he would pull back, laugh, shake his head, proclaim how weird it was, but instead… instead…
Instead Pat’s eyes fell shut and his head tilted and he bowed lower and lower until his lips made contact with Pran’s. The touch was soft but without hesitation, lips slipping open to catch Pran’s between them. Then, already, they were pulling away, leaving Pran’s mouth cold and wanting. Pran flicked his eyes open, not sure even when he’d closed them, and watched as Pat opened his own, slow and unfocused.
“You call that a kiss?” The question was supposed to be scathing, mocking, anything that brought them back to their status quo, but Pran’s voice was suddenly hoarse and breathless, as though he hadn’t spoken in weeks and his throat was parched. 
There was no hiding the want in every syllable.   
“What would you call it?” Pat asked. To Pran’s devastation, he sounded just as rough.
“Barely anything,” Pran replied, his voice half a whisper as adrenaline flooded through his veins. 
Because he knew what he was going to do next. 
And he knew there was no way of stopping himself even if he tried. 
As if the want inside of him had torn into his limbs, seizing control, his hand shot up and grabbed Pat by the back of his head. He dragged him down, no gentleness, no subtlety, no mercy. He ransacked Pat’s mouth like a thief ripping through a household, eager to take everything he could before occupants woke up. 
He didn’t expect Pat to fight back. 
There was no paralysed surprise, no frozen astonishment, Pat let him take and take and take and then stole it all back and more. His hand gripped at Pran’s hair, his teeth nipped and scraped over Pran’s lip, his tongue licked into Pran’s mouth like he wanted to own it. Pran could barely breathe under the onslaught, control slipping away from him as he tried to process the ferocity of Pat’s response. Then all the competition seemed to slip away and they were just kissing, kissing, kissing.
By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for air. 
Pran looked up at Pat in astonishment, but Pat didn’t look back. His eyes were still closed, forehead bent against Pran’s forehead as he hauled oxygen into his lungs, like he was trying to fix the memory of their kiss in his head forever. The only sound in the entire room was their broken breathing.
Then he smiled, the single most beautiful and most ruinous smile Pran had ever seen, before he opened his eyes. He tilted his head as he grinned down at Pran like they were sharing a secret. Pran felt his mouth respond in kind and Pat’s gaze dipped down, catching on his lips before dragging back up.
Instinctively, deliberately, somewhere in between, Pran’s eyeline dropped from Pat’s captivating gaze to his tempting mouth. His lips were red and puffy, shining with a hint of…
Me, Pran thought. That’s from me. 
And he looked back up in time just to see Pat lean back down and then he was being kissed again. He responded instantly, surging up to steal more of Pat’s taste, and somehow ended up standing, his hands in Pat’s hair. Pat’s arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, making Pran’s heart jolt as they were pressed together from hip to chest and Pat’s heat bled through their clothes. 
He’d never been this close to another person. Not even the only other boy he’d kissed, who’d sat next to him and kissed him awkwardly, neither of them entirely sure what they were doing. This—Pat—was something else entirely. He felt submerged in him, Pat on his tongue, on his skin, on his body, everywhere and anywhere, all at once, and he sank into him rapturously, a willing victim of his own drowning. 
Pat tugged and Pran followed, edging carefully, unhurriedly, across the floor as their mouths danced to a rhythm of their own making. Then Pat pulled away to drop down onto Pran’s bed, dragging Pran after him. Pran settled eagerly into his lap, unable to resist one little quip before bent his head to kiss him.
“In my bed already, Napat? Are you always this easy?”
“No, you’re just special,” Pat replied breathlessly and then Pran had to devour him. 
Pran didn’t know how long their fourth kiss lasted for but by the time they broke apart, the streetlights outside were turning a burnt umber and Pran’s lips were so sensitive they were tingling. He swallowed weakly, hands still twisted in Pat’s hair, hips almost bruised with Pat’s fingerprints.
 “So. Any differences?” he found himself asking. Pat chuckled breathlessly. 
“Just a few, yeah.” 
Pran smiled back at him, his lips almost sore but in a pleasant way as he curved them upwards. One of Pat’s thumbs had found its way under Pran’s shirt and was rubbing over the skin at the base of his waist. 
“Can we do this again?” Pat asked, eyes dropping to Pran’s mouth. “More than once? Can we do this many times?”
Pran laughed. “How often are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. Once a week? Once a day? Once an hour?” Pat grinned cheekily and Pran’s cheeks were going to ache from how broad his own smile was. 
“You’re gonna wake up every hour, are you?”
“It would be worth it.” That was too much for Pran. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed again.
“You’re so cheesy.” 
“Pran, I’m serious. I think we should date.” Pat continued earnestly, a smile still colouring his voice like a warm sunset.
Pran opened his eyes, wide and uncertain. Pat looked back at him candidly.
“Pat…That…”
"You don't want to?"
"I… didn't say that." 
Pat beamed, somewhere between delighted and smug and Pran shoved him backwards with more show than force. Pat faked falling anyway, tilting backwards dramatically before bouncing up with a grin. Pran tried not to be affected by it.
“If our parents found it, they would kill us,” he pointed out.
“Why would they need to find out? I sneak into your bedroom almost every week. They’ve never found that out, have they?” 
Pran loved how stubborn Pat was.
“We won’t be able to tell anyone. I mean, anyone. Not even Duke. Not even Pa.” 
“Is this you saying yes? Pran, are you saying yes to me?”
“Who said I’m saying yes,” Pran tried to sound aloof but it was hard when he was still straddling Pat’s lap and his hands had settled on Pat’s shoulders.
Pat’s smile spilled out over his entire face, eyes little more than curved lines as he laughed. “You are. You are saying yes,” Pat told him. Pran didn’t disagree.  
He also didn’t disagree when Pat said they should kiss again. 
~~~
Aaaand done. Don't think about what happens after the concert. @miscellar already made that mistake. Just don't do it yourself.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed it OP! And all the others that come across this mini fic! Look out for an actually edited version of this to appear on AO3 sometime soon....
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populousgraph · 2 months ago
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This is probably going to be my second to last post about the whiteboard. (I'll probably do a final one after Thursday... the death of the whiteboard 😭)
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The crew and Devin (I just realized my two unintroduced guys are there... soon...)
Devin is my favorite little special boy. *pushes all of his truamas under the rug* I love him with all my heart...
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Oh, and Demon Charles. He's here too.
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I drew these two things for the anonymous person on the whiteboard. ^^ I love her characters! I literally can't get enough!
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Speaking of which, here are the hazbin versions of Carter and Devin drew by the anonymous person, and I redrew in my style.
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Fang (I need to introduce him help-) and his new buddy... (I remember their name... shut up)
The artwork and second guy belong to @kursed-curtain
(Dude... I ADORE how you draw Fang. They're so bagjakiwjwneoen in your style. Thank you so much aughhh!!! This drawing alone is motivating me to do a proper introduction for him.)
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Finally, this GORGEOUS drawing of Devin that I asked @zerguette to draw for me
(Dude, your art is FANTASTIC, and I LOVE this drawing so so so much! I put this on my homescreen so I can stare at it for longer because bahhh! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!)
Anyway, this is getting long and rambly... see yall tomorrow for Stickmintober! :3
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captain-mj · 1 year ago
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Fruit and Cinnamon
Reread it while sober instead of high and fucking hated it, rewrote the whole thing sober, still not that happy with it, but hope you guys like this version better <3
Ghost stalked through silently the bar silently. His footsteps are quiet, but there was the faint sound of tinkling as his weapons bumped against each other. A soft sigh came from his mouth as he looked at all of the dead bodies. 
What a tragedy. 
Their bodies had been shredded. Not a single body had more than two limbs attached. Many looked like simple chunks of meat rather than an actual person. 
He stepped over them and continued on to look around. 
A radio was playing. Some heavy metal that he didn’t recognize. 
Out of the shadows, twisting and turning, body contorting in ways that would drive a human to madness, a woman emerged. She was wrapped in draping fabrics with blood dripping down it. Blood pulled around her. 
“Hello, Ghost.”
“Hello, Farah.” He responded, smiling. “How are you?”
There was a fire in her eyes. Literally. Slowly, it died back down and she looked very human. “You might want to change. Metal armor fell out of place about two hundreds years ago.”
Ghost frowned at her. “Seriously? You not suggesting the fabric you’re wearing…”
“Cotton t-shirt and cargo pants. The military uses them and they have many pockets!” Farah showed Ghost who found them… inadequate. Not the pockets. Pockets were fine. The fabric itself seemed inefficient. 
“What if a human gets stabbed on the battlefield?”
‘Weapons have changed. But we shall discuss it later. Alex plans to follow soon.” She stepped forward, leaving bloody footprints. “Need help?”
“No, I think I’ll stay in my ar-” 
Farah waved her hand and the clothes rippled and rolled into something more like what Farah herself was wearing. Ghost immediately felt displeased as he added a mask to it. “You’re welcome.” She called as she looked back, smiling. 
Ghost scoffed and stepped away from her to continue to investigate the bar. “What did the men do to make you so angry?”
Farah sighed. “The normal sins of human men.”
Ghost wasn’t sure what exactly they did, but he knew enough to know they deserved it. He touched the radio, recognizing the vague functions of it. “This is new.” 
Ghost hummed softly and closed his eyes to continue listening to the sound. It wasn’t his favorite, too chaotic sounding. Reminded him just a little too much of hell. 
He turned it off and looked at all the puddles of blood. Broken and destroyed bodies. 
One of them had a jacket on it with several patches. Ghost quickly ripped it off his body, ignoring when his arms detached and he had to pull them out. His new jacket was lovely. He stretched until his new human form popped and a shiver ran through him. 
Farah watched him as she fixed a drink. “Do you still only drink bourbon?”
“Scotch still tastes like dog piss.” Ghost caught the drink as she slid it over and lifted his mask to drink it. He rolled his shoulders. “Draw much attention to yourself?”
“Not that I could see. You?”
Ghost shook his head. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Nice to be out of Hell.” Farah commented. “Was so tired of the constant torture and the screaming and the blood. I mean it was good fun but the routine gets so boring.”
Ghost nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the shot. “Think I could get another drink?” He tilted his glass to show that it was empty. 
Farah laughed and teased him as she pretended to bartend, wiping the counter. “For my favorite customer? Yeah, sure.” She fixed him another drink. “I’m tired. Planning to find myself a place to sleep for a while. Then blend in. Go out and see things. Dance. Feel the sun. You?”
Ghost swirled his drink before downing it. “Fruit. Specifically a fig.”
“That’s it?” Farah smiled. “What about pleasures of the flesh? I remember you complaining quite a bit a decade ago about how hell doesn’t suit your taste.” There was a hint of teasing there. 
Ghost looked into the empty shot glass. “Nah. First, I’m going to eat a fig. Then a shower. Maybe not even in that order.”
“Simple man of simple pleasures I suppose.” Farah smiled. She sighed. “We should probably leave. We stay in the same place too long, trouble will come.”
“Always does. Alex coming around yet?”
“No. Got caught and sent back to the center. I’m planning on helping him along if I can.”
Ghost grinned. “Convince a cult to summon him. They’re easy to manipulate.”
Farah put all of the glasses away. “Not a bad idea. We’ll see where we end up.” She leaned over and put her hand on Ghost’s shoulder, watching him cringe before forcing himself to relax. His eyes flitted about, not meeting hers. “Keep in touch with me. Don’t get lost.”
Ghost nodded and watched her leave silently. He probably should ask questions. Get more information about this new world he found himself in. Instead, he finished off a bottle of bourbon. 
That was an awful idea. This new body he created didn’t exactly have an alcohol tolerance built up yet. 
As he walked around, he realized more and more that this whole body was… rather sensitive. Cold rain stuck to him instead of sliding off his metal armor like he was used to. The fabric on his body clung to him, only making it worse. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this cold. 
It made the hot water feel that much better. It took him a while to figure out how motels worked and rather than deal with the ordeal of booking one, he just broke in to one and disposed of the inhabitants. He stood in the hot water, luckily he understood how indoor plumbing works thanks to hell taking inspiration. The soap felt nice. The smell… delicious. Some form of vanilla. 
Ghost knew not to stay in one place. His very presence brought danger. Despite that, he still slept. The sheets were too inviting. Softness. Decadence. He couldn’t remember the last time fabric felt so nice against his skin. Hell was made of sherpa and rough rocks. 
When he woke up, he knew he had spent too much time there. Both by the way he fell well rested in a way that one could never properly achieve in hell, but also by his guest. 
A strange little scottish man with funny hair. He reminded him a tiny bit of the Vikings he met back in the day, but they wore braids in their hair and this man did not. 
Little mystery man raised his blade and held it out. “I suggest you leave this mortal plane quickly, demon.” 
Ghost felt a little insulted. Here he was, simply lounging in bed. Unknown to him, Johnny thought the bed looked like it had a bed bug infestation. It also clearly had whatever bedding came cheapest.
Ghost stood up, knowing just how imposing he was. This was not a random vessel that he was wearing, but instead the body he crafted himself to feel more comfortable in. He towered over this little human, going to a good 6’4 so he still looked human. His eyes and hands, the only features able to be seen, were all very carefully human. Yes, his nails were painted but for coolness, not for conspicuity. 
“No. Don’t think I will.”
Soap lifted his blade. 
Gazes met. 
Ghost’s eyes widened. Those eyes. 
He’d know those blue eyes anywhere. 
Soap?
Johnny tried to stab him and Ghost quickly stepped back. In his head, the music played. From the Baroque time period. A memory of a dance. 
They danced around each other. Blows going back and forth. 
Ghost hit him hard, watching him stumble in shock. As if he wasn’t prepared for Ghost to fight back. 
Ghost slashed at him. Viciously. How dare this man wear those eyes. 
Soap bared his teeth, both interlocked. Blow for blow. 
“I hope you rot in hell.”
Ghost lunged for him. “I plan on dragging you down there with me.”
Misstep. 
The blade went through him and Soap glimpsed what was behind the fleshy mask. A monster that wanted to devour him whole. 
He looked afraid. 
As Ghost felt himself tear apart, doomed to go straight back to hell to repeat it, he knew what he’d do. 
He’d find this man again and rip his eyes out. 
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