#but there's something about seeing each other at their worsts/most annoying/most frustrating but still loving them all the same that gets me

[wayfinderships]

Every once in a while I look at my f/o list and think to myself...

"S.anji's placement isn't quite accurate"

[kayewrite]

At the same time, I wanna hug you

(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)

summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?

an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading

Kim Seungmin.

You hated that very name.

You hated his existence.

You hated his smirk.

You hated that he breathes.

You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.

Like now.

You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.

You already knew your fate.

"Ma'am, someone’s late again."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.

You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.

The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.

"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.

“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.

“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”

Damn.

You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.

--

You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.

Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.

"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.

Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”

He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”

You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”

You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.

One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.

"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.

He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."

You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."

Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.

Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"

You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.

"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.

Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.

If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.

Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.

Justice had never tasted so sweet.

---

"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.

Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.

You flipped him the finger.

‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?

The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.

If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.

You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.

Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.

"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."

"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."

"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."

"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.

"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."

And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.

"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.

Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.

"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.

And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.

--

It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.

Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.

Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.

A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.

"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.

"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.

He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"

"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.

Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"

You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"

Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."

Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.

Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.

You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."

You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"

"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"

"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"

"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."

He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."

"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."

Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.

“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”

It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.

“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.

“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.

With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?

“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.

Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.

“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.

“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.

“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.

“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.

“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.

“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.

You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.

“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”

“I hate you.”

“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.

Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.

“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.

“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.

“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.

“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.

“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.

“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.

“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”

Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.

“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.

You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!

“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”

“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.

“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.

“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.

“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.

As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

--

You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.

“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.

“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.

“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.

“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.

It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.

“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.

“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.

“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.

He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.

When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”

“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”

“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.

“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.

He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”

“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

When would this bickering ever end?

“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.

“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”

“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.

“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”

“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.

Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”

You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.

You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.

“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”

You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.

“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.

You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”

“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”

You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”

You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.

Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”

You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”

Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”

Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.

“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.

You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.

Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”

You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”

“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.

You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.

With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.

--

The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.

Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.

To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.

Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.

After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”

A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”

“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.

As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.

At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.

“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.

Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.

“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”

“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”

“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.

“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.

“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”

“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”

"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."

As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.

“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”

“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.

“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

--

As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.

One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.

You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”

As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.

Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.

During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.

You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.

When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.

From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.

As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.

---

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.

As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”

He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”

Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.

“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.

“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.

“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.

“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.

You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”

Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.

“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.

Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.

The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.

---

It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.

But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.

“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”

The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.

"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.

You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.

“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”

You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.

“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”

“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.

You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.

---

Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.

Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.

“Ma'am!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.

But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”

Your eyes flew open in shock. What?

“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.

Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.

You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.

--

Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.

As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.

He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”

You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”

“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

--

Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.

You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.

"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.

This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.

You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.

“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”

With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”

Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.

You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”

“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.

“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.

“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.

You both threw out your hands, and you won.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”

You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.

“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”

You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”

“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”

As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”

In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.

Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”

“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.

--

Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.

Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”

“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.

As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.

Wow, he was really talented.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.

Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.

You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.

The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.

You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.

You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”

Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”

You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”

Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”

You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”

You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”

--

Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.

You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”

Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”

You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”

“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”

Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”

You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”

“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”

You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”

Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”

You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”

Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”

You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”

Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."

You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”

--

It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.

Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.

“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.

Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”

You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”

“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”

You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”

“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.

"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,

"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."

You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.

--

 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”

Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”

Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”

“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”

Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”

Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”

Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”

Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”

As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.

--

Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.

As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.

"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.

Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.

You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."

Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.

But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.

"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."

But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.

PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.

The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.

"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.

But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.

The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.

What is up with him?

Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.

When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.

After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.

He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”

Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.

You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”

He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.

Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.

“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”

Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”

“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”

Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”

“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?

Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”

You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.

You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.

Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I...”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”

He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.

-

In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.

Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.

"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."

"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.

You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.

Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.

You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."

Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."

You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"

His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"

"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.

Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."

You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."

His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."

You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.

"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.

"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"

He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."

His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.

"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."

He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.

Seungmin liked you.

And somehow, deep down, you’d known.

-

The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.

As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.

The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?

Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.

You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.

Seungmin.

You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.

And then came the moment. The pivotal line.

As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.

Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.

Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.

You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.

As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.

For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.

-

a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!

sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[talaok]

Hey love . Can I request a pedro × reader ?? Pedro is having a bad dream and the reader calms him down?

By the way... loved the last thing you wrote. Looking forward for part 2❤❤❤

Love this idea sm, sorry I took so long

The dark veiled your room like an immutable quilt.

As you opened your eyes, a deep sigh left your mouth. 

You let your face roll onto the pillow, hopefully soaking all your frustration.

The fact that you were used to waking up during the night, didn't make it any less annoying.

The only thing that perhaps ever made it better was knowing Pedro was an even worst sleeper than you. Most nights you'd wake at around three and catch him already up, his head against the headboard and his eyes trained on you. He would smile knowingly and with a nod invite you closer to him.

You'd spend the rest of the night talking or just sitting in each other's presence as your head rested on his chest until one of you (most times you) would finally fall asleep.

So tonight, as usual, you turned to your left, but while you were awaiting to see that damningly sweet grin tugging at your boyfriend's lips as he stared at you, your eyes set on something much different.

He was on his side, his brows were creased like he was in pain, but his eyes were closed.

You noticed the sheer veil of sweat coating his forehead, and that's when you saw his body twitch.

He was having a nightmare.

Your heart started beating faster, panic and anxiety rising up your spine.

Slurred sounds that resembled the words no and please left his mouth as his body kept moving, like he was fighting the nightmare itself.

You didn't know what to do, but you couldn't leave him like that, so you settled for the only thing that came to mind, waking him up.

"Baby" you whispered tentatively at first, your voice rumbling off the walls and not getting his eyes to open in the slightest.

"baby wake up" you urged him, your voice higher as your hand found his shoulder, shaking him gently.

His lips kept parting to make way for incomprehensible protests.

"Baby" you murmured again, caressing his cheek, "Baby wake up, it's me," you said, "Babe wake up" you repeated once more, and finally, his eyes snapped open.

He inhaled sharply, like he'd been underwater, and quickly propped himself on his elbows as he felt his heart pounding from the fear.

"y/n?"

"it's me, baby, it's me" You felt like you could finally breathe "You had a nightmare, everything's fine"

"shit" he sighed, wiping his eyes, clearly still shaken up "Did I wake you?"

Of course that was gonna be his first thought

"You didn't baby, don't worry," you reassured him "Are you alright? "

"y-yea I'm just..." his gaze felt distant for a moment "I haven't had a nightmare in a while, or at least not like this"

"I'm sorry honey" you cooed, your hand going to stroke soothingly his chest "You wanna talk about it?"

"no, not really" he replied " think I just need a moment"

"Sure" you nodded "Can I do anything? You want some tea, cookies, blankets?"

He smiled for the first time since he'd woken up.

"thank you, sweetheart but I've got all I need right here," he said, taking your hand in his.

You bit your lip, fighting back a grin "That is the cheesiest thing I've ever heard Mr. Pascal"

He chuckled "Well I'm sorry ms y/l/n but it's the truth" he smiled, as you leaned down to kiss him.

"c' mere" he nodded, inviting you to snuggle closer to him, which is exactly what you did.

You both laid back on the bed, and you rested your head on his chest.

The rhythmic pounds of his heart echoed in your ear through his pec.

"Baby, your heart's still racing"

"I just need to calm down a sec," he said, his arm going around you to keep you as close as possible.

You set your leg on his, clinging to his body, and looked up at him "Can I do anything to help?"

He smiled weakly, meeting your eyes

"talk to me," he said, "tell me about your day"

"I already told you about my day"

"tell me again, I want to hear you talk" he explained, "I just need to hear your voice"

"Are you sure that's gonna help?" you asked, skeptic

"I'm sure" he promised, kissing the top of your head.

"alright," you agreed.

"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "I love you"

[mint-yooxgi]

For The Hell of It - Ateez X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Crack!Fic & Idol AU

Genre: Fluff, Humour, Crack

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,178

A/n: So, this was inspired by my own frustrations as both a tall and chubby girl and always seeing indicators about how “small” the reader is compared to the love interest in reader insert fics. It’s time to pin THEM against the wall! They swim in YOUR clothes!! Hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Disclaimer: This fic isn’t meant to ‘call anyone out’ if they use these tropes or do these things the reader rants a bit about to start. This is just me writing out some of my feelings and expression emotions surrounding my own frustrations. If you aren’t tall or chubby, you’re still most definitely welcome to read this! It might put some things into perspective for you, who knows! Also, as a reference, I'm literally as tall as Mingi, so that’s how I pictured heights in this lol there may or may not be smuts to come of this later in the future, but that’s still undecided. ;)

Summary: San finally gets to live out one of his fantasies... yet, so do all of his friends.

A Friday night unlike any other. Well, for the most part. You finally had an evening where all of your schedules lined up, so you agreed to spend the night drinking with the guys. They were all celebrating a successful tour wrapping up, and the start of a month long vacation to rest after their most recent comeback. You, on the other hand, are celebrating a promotion at work, with a generous pay raise to boot.

You’re just happy you can all find jobs that you love, and still find time with each other to spend hanging out. You haven’t been best friends for years for nothing.

“No, I’m serious!” You continue, noticing you have every single one of their gazes transfixed on you right now. “I can’t count the amount of fics I’ve read that someone has sent me where it’s supposed to be a second person point of view, only for it to say some shit like, “you looked up into his eyes” or “character tilted your head up to meet his gaze”. Don’t even get me started on the “swimming in his clothes” trope.”

The way you snort is echoed by both Yeosang and Wooyoung.

“Literally, it’s so annoying when you’re reading something, get almost fully immersed in it, only for the “he towered over your small frame” to get thrown into the mix.” You continue, gesturing at yourself with your hands to emphasize your next point. “Like, what part of me is small?”

You laugh, incredulously, and most of them can only blink at you in shock.

“Listen, if I want to imagine myself, I don’t know, sword fighting with Zoro, I’m definitely going to be eye level with him.” You rant. “I’m literally taller than he is!”

“You read One Piece fanfiction?” Jongho asks, a teasing glint in his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink.

“There is a serious lack of Shanks reader inserts, and I am devastated,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung leans forward, a mischievous quirk to the corner of his lips. “So, then, have you ever read any fanfiction about us?”

Your eyes gleam, “wouldn’t you like to know, loverboy.”

Mingi snorts out a laugh, right alongside Yunho as Wooyoung pouts.

“My one friend sent me a Changbin size kink one once,” you recall, scrunching your nose. “Weirder when you know the person, but like, I’m literally double his size. Was hilarious when my friend tried to explain to me how that was supposed to work when there’s no way in hell he could ever make me feel small.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong leans back onto the couch. “Don’t need to know that.”

“I can’t wait to tell Binnie about this,” Wooyoung cackles, already pulling out his phone to text said male.

“Like, I know it’s not the worst inclusion issue that reader inserts have,” you comment, shaking your head. “Don’t even get me started on the descriptions of skin tone or hair type. Yet, it just gets so frustrating when every fic you read isn’t as inclusive to you as you’ve been lead to believe.”

“Write your own,” Yeosang shrugs, offering a solution.

“I do!” You reply, and you watch as nearly all of their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines. “Though, half of the time it’s easier said than done.”

They nod, seemingly in understanding as you continue to rant.

“Literally, for once I just want to read a fic where the reader pins the guys against the wall.” You take another sip of your drink. “Have him wear my clothes for a change, and see how he swims in my hoodie.”

You fail to notice the way both Seonghwa and Jongho shift slightly in their spots, both swallowing thickly.

“And don’t even get me started on a lot of the chubby reader type fics out there.” You sigh, shaking your head once more. “I’m more than just my insecurities, but that’s all chubby people seem to be known for. Like, I’m fat, not ugly.”

The guys all tip their drinks in acknowledgement at that, agreeing with you wholeheartedly.

“Do you know how venerating it was when Resident Evil Eight came out, and everyone and their mom started simping for Lady Dimitrescu? Confidence boosting to the max. The fics that came out of it were immaculate.” You lift your hands in front of you for emphasis, touching your pointer finger to your thumb.

“Oh yeah, Sannie boy had much to say about her,” Wooyoung teases, and you notice the aforementioned man turn bright red.

“Hey!” He reaches over to hit Wooyoung’s knee harshly.

“Boy wanted to be pinned to the wall so bad he asked me to do it for him,” Yunho chuckles, only causing the younger male’s blush to deepen.

“Did you do it?” You raise a brow, pure mirth dancing on your features.

“No,” Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” Mingi adds, grin stretching across his features and causing his eyes to crinkle at the sides.

You turn to Seonghwa who just shakes his head in response.

“Wow, some friends you are,” you laugh, turning your gaze to a pouting San in the next moment. “Still want to be pinned to a wall?”

Suddenly, he can no longer meet your gaze, embarrassed sputters escaping his lips. Yet, he doesn’t deny it.

“Wait, have none of you ever been pinned to a wall?” You look around, seeing as they all shake their heads in response. “Received a kabedon by someone you like?” More denials fall from their lips. “Then, I’m assuming you’ve never been lifted against a wall, either?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Jongho grumbles, lips tugging downwards in the corners as if the thought greatly distresses him.

“Seriously, you guys are missing out.” You take a sip of your drink. “Though, can’t say that I have, either. In fiction, though, apparently I’m a goddamn feather.”

A brief moment of silence passes over all of you as you collectively take sips of your drinks. Then, you’re turning to look at San.

“Do you still want to be pinned to the wall?” Your brow quirks as you ask him this for the second time, noticing how more than just San shifts slightly in his spot.

He averts his gaze, suddenly finding the coffee table between you the most fascinating thing. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you stand, stretching your back out as you do so. “Let’s go.”

His head immediately raises to look at you, mild shock pulling at his features. It’s most apparent in the slight way his eyes widen, lips parting as he meets your gaze.

“I’ll pin you to a wall if you want,” you shrug stepping out of the sitting area and cracking your neck. “I am taller than you, and as long as you’re okay with it-“

“No fair! How come San is the only one that gets to be pinned to a wall by you?” Wooyoung complains, quite loudly at that.

“Oh, my offer is open to all of you,” you huff out an amused laugh. “If you want.”

The way you see them all straighten has the grin on your lips widening.

“I can’t promise I’m who you want to pin you, but just picture it’s someone else if you’d like.” You shrug. “But I’m willing if you are.”

Wooyoung physically hops off of the couch before attempting to male his way over to you. Only, he gets harshly pulled back down into his spot by Yeosang in the next moment.

You quirk a brow.

“The offer was for San first,” Yeosang grumbles, and though he tries to hide it, his cheeks begin turning the slightest bit darker as a blush dusts his features.

“So,” you trail off, tilting your head slightly to the side, “is that a ‘yes’?”

Both Yunho and Hongjoong quirk their bros at you, while Wooyoung nods eagerly. At the way Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi blush, you know you have them, too.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Jongho shrugs, tossing the remaining contents of his drink back as he settles fully into the couch.

Wordlessly, Mingi pours him another one.

“Make it sound like I’m forcing you, why don’t you,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Just say you don’t want to do it. You don’t have to give in to peer pressure, bubs.”

“Oh no, I’d love to see this.” Jongho grins, a sudden gleam to his eyes.

“Well, I’m first!” San immediately pops up onto his feet.

You grin, “someone really is eager.”

“It’s only been the biggest fantasy of his for-“

A hand gets clamped over Wooyoung’s mouth curtesy of Yeosang.

If your eyes could go any wider, you swear that they’d fall right out of your head.

“How do you want me?” San asks, moving beside you near the wall.

“Those are dangerous words, Sannie boy,” you smirk, turning fully to face him and noticing how he glances up into your eyes. “This is all about your comfortability though. The second you want space, or anything, you let me know. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods his understanding.

“Do you want a full immersive experience, or just what you signed up for?” You ask, taking a step towards him while he takes one back.

The sudden dark look in your eyes makes his lips part, excitement strumming through his veins. At the way you quirk a brow at him, he realizes he still has yet to answer you.

“Uh,” how is his brain already this fuzzy when you haven’t even done anything to him yet? You’ve been close before, San clinging to you more often than not. However, it’s just so much different when he’s on the receiving end for once. So much more intense.

“Immersive! Immersive! Immersive!” Wooyoung begins to chant, followed shortly by both Mingi and Yunho. Even Seonghwa cannot help but to lowly add in his voice to the chanting.

San swallows, licking his lips. “Immersive.”

A cheer rising up from the other males in the room greets your ears, and it only serves to boost your ego for the moment.

Again, you quirk a brow. “Ready?”

A nod is all the confirmation you get before you’re bringing a hand up to firmly press it against the wall beside his head. The sound of your palm making contact is synonymous with the way his breath hitches as he watches you lean into him.

Slowly, you bring your opposite hand up to rest your fingers lightly against his chin. Your eyes hood over as you lift his head to make sure he’s staring deeply into your gaze.

You shift closer, the corner of your lips quirking upwards.

San’s breathing deepens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again thickly. Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips. A fact of which, you seem to notice.

“Quite a different feeling when you’re on the receiving end, huh, Sannie?” You lean in, breath ticking the shell of his ear.

A shudder wracks his entire body, goosebumps trailing up his arms as his chest just brushes against your own with each breath he takes. His lips clamp shut, suppressing the moan that wants to escape him.

“Do you want to wrap your leg around-“

The question hasn’t even finished leaving your mouth when you feel him lift his left leg to loop it around your side. Your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh, and you can physically feel the way he trembles within your touch.

A chorus of ‘oh’s echoes behind you.

“Shut up!” San snaps, turning his head to glare at his group mates.

Unfortunately for him, the movement causes you to drop his leg, backing off of him shortly after.

San’s lucky to turn back around to face the others the moment you move off of him, for you fail to see the way he slaps the sides of his cheeks with both hands. The way he can feel his skin continuing to heat beneath his own touch only adds to the fire burning within his soul from these turn of events.

He knows you said he could picture anybody pinning him, but the fact that it was you somehow made it so much more intense. It was - you are - perfect in every way, and this has just made him realize that. How could you fit together so easily, like this was a position you had always been meant to be in with him?

The worst part is, it’s over, and he may never get to experience this type of euphoria again.

“Alright, who’s next?” You turn to the remaining males, not noticing the crisis San seems to be having against the wall behind you.

“Oh, me, me!” Wooyoung, again, eagerly pops up from the couch, only to be dragged back down by Jongho this time.

“I’ll go,” Yunho surprises you by standing to his feet. At the curious looks both Hongjoong and Yeosang send him, he’s shrugging. “What? I’m intrigued.”

“Alright, Beanpole,” you motion him over using two fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. “You’re next.”

He mumbles slightly under his breath about you calling him ‘Beanpole’ again, stating how you’re no different, seeing as you’re practically eye-level with him. Though, with the way he eagerly steps over Mingi who still rests on the floor, you can tell he’s attempting to maintain his composure for now.

Finally, San walks back to his spot beside Seonghwa, almost as if in a daze. Only when the elder male pats the younger on the shoulder does he seemingly snap out of it. In the next moment, San sits back on the ground, pulling a pillow over his lap as he leans forward.

“If my back gives out, you guys are paying for my medical bills,” you casually comment, turning towards Yunho who leans against the wall.

“Are you planning to lift us?” Hongjoong asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Possibly,” you shrug. “Depends on if you want the full immersive experience or not. I’ve got ideas for all of you.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about this before?” Yunho’s familiar smug grin begins to pull at his features.

“Not necessarily,” you hum. “It’s just more interesting this way.”

“Then, please,” he meets your gaze, “immerse me.”

The moment those words escape his lips, you’re in front of him. Your hands gently grab his waist, before stepping directly into him. Your brow quirks just as you hear his breath hitch.

“When I tell you to jump, jump.” You say, a playful gleam shining in your eyes.

He nods.

“Jump.” 

The moment your hands settle on the skin of his thighs, you press yourself fully against him. The way your chest feels rising and falling against his own sets his heart fluttering in his chest. Not to mention the way you quite literally have him pinned against the wall in your arms. 

His eyes are wide, breath hitching in his throat as the full reality of the situation comes crashing down upon him. Never has he imagined that he could be the one being held against the wall like this. The way your eyes shine as they continue to stare into his own only make it that much more intense.

Yunho swallows as he hears you giggle. 

Shit, he really wasn’t prepared for this.

“What’s the matter, Yuyu?” You tease, breath tickling the skin of his neck as you lean into him. “Tall girl caught your tongue?”

A few hoots and hollers are heard from the others as Yunho’s ears turn bright red. His lips part in answer, but no words escape him, too immersed in the feeling of your warm, plush body pressing against his own. The way that you’re suddenly slightly even taller than before as you hold him against the wall, his legs wrapped around your waist, has a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

A moment later, and you’re dropping his legs back to the floor.

You smile, patting the side of his gobsmacked face gently. “There ya go, beanpole. Now you know what it’s like.”

Turning around, you see Mingi practically rush to his feet. “Me next.”

You chuckle at his eagerness as Yunho slowly walks back to his spot, caught in a trance.

Just as San was before him, Yunho cannot help but marvel at the feeling of having you pin him to the wall. He never really thought about it before, and it was simply to sate that curiosity in his mind, but the fact that it was you, and that he enjoyed it immensely because it was you, is making his head spin.

He swallows thickly.

“Come on, Big Boy,” you extend your hand out to Mingi in offering, to which he gladly takes.

A giddy smile rests on his features as you guide him over to the wall. The eagerness you can sense radiating off of him is contagious, and you cannot help but to mirror his expression.

Your lips part in question, but Mingi beats you to it.

“Immersive.” He confirms with a firm nod, only causing you to chuckle lightly in response.

“I think it’s safe to say we all want the immersive experience right now,” Seonghwa voices, and you spare a glance back at the group to see all of them eagerly nodding at you.

“And here I thought I was touch starved,” you joke, a giggle to your words.

“Hey!” Wooyoung complains. “When you have a pretty lady offering to pin you to the wall, call us, and then see how you feel.”

Compliments from them, especially Wooyoung, are not unusual. However, something about this time feels different when he says this. Perhaps it’s the way he never breaks eye contact with you, or perhaps it’s the way you can just feel how sincere his words are. Still, it shocks you to your core.

You let out an amused puff, turning back to face the male trembling in excitement against the wall.

“Woah, there, Big Boy,” you grin. “Don’t be turning full Chihuahua on me.”

“Oh, leave the poor man alone,” Hongjoong joins in on the teasing. “He’s just excited.”

“It’s not like I’m giving him a lap dance.” You chuckle, stepping in closer as you watch Mingi’s face turn a bright red.

“Are you offering?” Wooyoung sounds just a tad too hopeful.

“Don’t even joke about that, Woo,” San throws the pillow in his lap at his friend.

“Yeah, cause you probably wouldn’t be able to hide your boner next time.” Yeosang deadpans.

A beat of silence.

Laughter erupts throughout the room as San turns bright red once more, stuttering out denials all the while. 

“You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn!” He shouts, pulling his knees up to his chest as a pout pulls at his lips.

“Hey, no judgement here,” you grin, raising your hand nonchalantly in his direction. “Huge confidence boost when knowing you can turn someone on like that.”

San sticks his tongue out in Wooyoung’s direction as if to say, ‘so, there.’ 

You chuckle once more, taking the time to casually lean against the wall right beside Mingi using your one hand. The way you see his whole body freeze for a moment as his breath gets caught in his throat has a smug grin pulling at your features.

“By the way, are we still on for movie night next week?” You ask casually, completely ignoring the male beside you for the moment.

“I swear, if you make us marathon Star Wars again,” Hongjoong jokingly turns to glare at Seonghwa.

“Oh, give the guy a break,” you comment. “It’s his favourite series.”

“Have you seen the new Lego Death Star that just came out?” His eyes light up, looking around hopefully at each of the males scattered around the room.

Yunho nods, somewhat aware of what the elder male is talking about as the topic of Legos is discussed.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Mingi finally calming down. Though, the slight pout that pulls onto his features has you leaning in to his ear.

“Don’t worry, Min, I haven’t forgotten about you,” you whisper, lips but a hairsbreadth from his ear. He shivers again, and you smirk. “Immersive, remember?”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve shifted your position to stand directly in front of the male. Your head is still buried in his neck, nose barely brushing against his skin as his breath hitches once more. Again, your hands settle on his hips as you lean into him, and he swears he can feel you smirking against the side of his throat.

The room goes silent, watching the scene unfold before them. The others seem just as caught off guard as Mingi is by your sudden shift in position.

Yet, why are Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong suddenly all feeling jealous?

You pull away form Mingi’s neck only to move in impossibly closer. Your one leg slips between his own, nose brushing against his as the corner of your lips tugs upwards. In the next moment, you’re lifting a hand to cup the side of his face.

The way your thumb tenderly strokes along his cheekbone as you step away mirrors how your touch fades from his skin. A fact of which he doesn’t like all that much, body attempting to follow yours as you pull away.

“Someone likes attention more than I thought,” your voice is light, a teasing glint to your eyes as Mingi begins stuttering before you.

“You can’t blame the man,” Jongho takes another sip of his drink. “You’re acting hella intimate with us all of a sudden.”

“I said immersive, remember,” you playfully wink at the youngest, noticing how he hides the lower half of his face behind his glass in the next second. “If you don’t want it, I won’t do it. I told you, I’m not trying to make any of you uncomfortable.”

“Well, more for me, then,” this time when Wooyoung stands up, neither Jongho nor Yeosang stops him. “Make it as immersive as you’d like, Darling.”

“As long as you can handle it, Baby Boy,” the moment the words slip passed your lips, a chorus of ‘oh’s reach your ears again.

Just as Wooyoung happily bounds over to you, you notice Mingi trudging back over to his spot on the floor.

Mingi cannot help himself. He’s distracted, mind reeling with the revelations of the past events that he’s just experienced. The only problem is, now, he wants more. He wants you to hold him against the wall like you did Yunho. He wants you lean into him again, just like you did with San. Only this time, he wants to feel your lips on his own.

He shakes his head. What is he thinking? You’re one of their closest friends. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the other ways that you can pin him, and then how he can pin you to the wall. Perhaps, even to the bed…

“Oh, this is going to be good,” San shifts forward, eagerly watching as his best friend finally gets to experience what he did only a short while ago.

Wooyoung is eager. In fact, he’s the most visibly eager out of all of them so far. Well, that you can tell. He even goes so far as to reach out for you, back not quite pressed against the wall.

Before he can so much as touch you, though, you have his wrists in your hands, pinning him to the wall. You lean into him, body towering over his smaller frame as a choked moan manages to escapes his lips. From the way red begins to creep up his neck, you know that he did not mean for that to come out so suddenly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” Your voice lowers, head tilting to the side almost mockingly.

His eyes go wide, and you’re surprised how willingly he shakes his head ‘no’.

The corner of your lips raise. “Good boy.”

This time, the moan that escapes him is much louder than the first. You watch on in amusement as he begins squirming beneath your hold, hips shifting slightly against the wall as you keep the lower half of your body distanced from his. He whines slightly when he realizes you aren’t budging.

Behind you, the rest of the guy’s jaws drop.

“You were just waiting for this, weren’t you?” You hum lowly, feigning concern for his current state. “Desperately wanting someone to hold you like this against the wall?”

Wooyoung bites down on his bottom lip, nodding shamelessly.

You step in closer, and you can physically feel how his body melts into yours. You lean into his neck, lips ghosting the skin just below his ear. “Good boy.”

The moment you back away from him, Wooyoung lets out a whine in protest. As soon as you release your hold on his wrists, he reaches for you, but you easily dodge his hands. A chuckle falls from your lips as you see him pout.

“So,” Hongjoong’s voice draws your attention to his smirking features across the room, “you’re a domme.”

“What was your first clue?” You quirk a brow back at him, amusement dancing in your eyes. In the next second, you shake your head, noticing how Wooyoung begins to walk back to his spot in a haze, that pout still tugging on his lips. “When I want to be, I can do both. Not that any of you will get to experience either.”

“Not that we’d want to,” Jongho rolls his eyes playfully.

You point in his direction, “hurtful.”

“Never say never,” Seonghwa breathes, seemingly lost in his own world for the moment.

Your brow raises, mild surprise painting your features as he seemingly comes back to reality. The tips of his ears begin to go red once he’s realized what he’s just said.

“Well, I think our eldest here should go next, then.” Yunho claps the male on his shoulder, giving him a firm shove forward all the while.

“Yeah, come on, Hwa,” San encourages, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “It’s much more fun than it looks.”

“It looked to me like you were having a lot of fun, there, San,” Seonghwa’s eyes sharpen slightly as he pushes himself to his feet.

“I can’t watch,” Yeosang shakes his head playfully, standing to his feet and heading down your hallway in the next second.

Your eyes follow the movement, amusement shining within.

Seonghwa stepping towards you draws your attention.

“I’ve never been a fan of getting pinned to a wall.” He states, somewhat bluntly.

“I don’t have to pin you to the wall, you know.” You grin, nudging his shoulder lightly with your own.

“I thought the whole point of this was to ‘show us what it feels like’,” Jongho comments, placing his now empty glass onto the coffee table before him.

“There are other ways to encapsulate the same types of feelings,” you reply, placing a gentle hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He raises a brow curiously at you.

“Wrap your arms around my shoulders,” you begin, already moving to lean into him to prepare yourself for what you’re going to do. “I’ve seen videos of you guys doing this with each other, but,” you shrug briefly, “context.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows, but he still does what you ask of him.

The moment you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re bending down and lifting him into your arms.

“Oh, Jesus, I wasn’t prepared,” you wobble slightly, now carrying him bridal style in your grasp. “How the fuck do you guys make this look so easy.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?” Seonghwa pouts, resting quite comfortably in your arms for the moment.

“No, I’m saying I’m surprised my noodle arms haven’t given out on me yet without the wall for support.” You reply, a slight chuckle to your words.

“Should we start preparing those medical bills of yours?” Hongjoong teases, though you notice there’s a certain glint in his eyes that has never been there before. Well, not that you’ve ever noticed. A glint that has only appeared due to the fact that he’s witnessing you be so close with the others. Others that aren’t him.

“Hey, can I borrow a sweater?” Yeosang calls from down the hallway. “I’m cold.”

“Go for it!” You call back, shifting your hold on Seonghwa slightly as he peers out at the rest of the guys while still held in your arms.

“You know, you’re right,” he hums, nuzzling himself deeper into you. “This is quite nice.”

“It’s the old ‘Uno reverse card’,” you chuckle, setting him back onto his feet just as Yeosang comes meandering back into the room. “You don’t realize you want it until it’s happened to you.”

Yeosang stops just beside you, blinking at the way Seonghwa slowly returns to his spot. The way the eldest glances almost longingly back at you from over his shoulder while doing so does not go unnoticed by any.

Turning your head, you finally notice that Yeosang has opted to clothe himself in one of your largest hoodies. The material quite literally drowns him, the hem reaching the middle of his thighs.

“Now, this is what I’m talking about,” you motion to Yeosang’s body, nodding approvingly.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you like Yeosang,” San rolls his eyes, cheeks puffing slightly as he rests his chin on his knees.

“First of all, I like all of you,” you reply, a playful snort escaping you as you smile. “No, I meant the clothing difference. This is what ‘swimming in their clothes’ means. It’s nice to be on the receiving end instead.”

“But you’re not the one wearing the clothes?” Mingi’s brow furrows, confusion shining on his features.

“You know what I mean,” you wave him off. “Literally, I can understand certain size kink fics now where the character fucks their love interest in their hoodie, and nothing but their hoodie.”

“Are you saying you want to fuck me in nothing but your hoodie?” Yeosang quirks a brow, a wide grin tugging at his features.

“Depends,” you hum in response, and you watch as Hongjoong spits out his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second.

“On?” He tilts his head curiously, blinking innocently.

“You wanna wear my thigh highs, too?” The way you see his eyes nearly bulge out of his head at your words has all of you bursting into laughter.

However, what you fail to see is how Yeosang goes quiet, cheeks flaring with colour.

“Well, this is certainly a game of truth or dare I never expected to get into.” Wooyoung cackles, tossing another drink back.

“I think we’re learning more about your interests tonight than in all of the years we’ve known you.” Yunho laughs, leaning back in his chair.

“You’ve never asked,” you shrug his words off casually, mirth dancing within your eyes.

“Who’s turn is it, anyways?” Yeosang grumbles, hiding his hands deep within the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yours.” Your response causes another round of heat to spread across his cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Wooyoung nudging Jongho beside him. A male of which is clearly annoyed by the elder’s actions, but who nudges back, nonetheless.

“I don’t know how I feel about being pinned to a wall,” he raises his hands in front of himself in caution, backing away from you slowly. 

The way his hands are hidden by the long sleeves of your sweater has you smiling lightly.

“If you don’t want me to, that’s quite alright,” you reply with a nod in understanding. “Like I said, I’m not about to force you guys into something you don’t want.”

“Oh, believe me,” Wooyoung chuckles, hiding somewhat behind Jongho as Yeosang takes a threatening step towards the younger male in warning. “He wants it.”

“I’ll believe it when he says it,” you tilt your head in acknowledgment in Yeosang’s direction, meeting his gaze once more.

The room goes silent, all of you turning to look at Yeosang once more.

“Uh,” he blinks, turning to look at any one of the other guys for help. Only, the way they simply watch on in glee lets him know they’re not going to do anything.

“Welp,” you turn back to the seven guys seated around your living room. “Maknae, leader, which one of you is next?”

“I’ll do it.” Yeosang’s voice from behind you draws your attention to him once more.

“Oh?” The smug grin on your face says it all, and he swallows thickly.

“Not against the wall, though.” He replies.

“That’s fine,” you reply with a nod, walking closer to him in your next breath.

You motion him closer, and he steps into you quite eagerly. Though, he does attempt to hide it, he doesn’t do a very good job.

“When I tell you to jump, jump into me,” you whisper lowly into his ear, and the way you feel him shiver as you lean away from him has that familiar smirk tugging at your lips. “Jump.”

Yeosang hesitates only a moment before quite literally leaping into your embrace. Your hands come to settle on his thighs, pulling him closer into you as he wraps his arms around your neck.

“Kind of different when you’re on the other end, isn’t it?” You smile, eyes crinkling as you watch him nod, somewhat amazed for the moment.

The way you can feel him tighten his legs around your waist has you chuckling, turning back around to face the other guys.

“This is… different than I thought it would be,” he mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he buried his face into the side of your neck. “It’s quite nice.”

The way you raise you eyebrows in agreement says it all, that same knowing look shining on your features. 

Slowly, you lower Yeosang back to his feet, but he doesn’t release his hold from around your shoulders. Of course, you lean down slightly, allowing him to embrace you for as long as he wants.

“Another perk to it is simple things, like hugs.” You say, just as Yeosang finally pulls away from you.

Of course, you notice how he avoids your gaze now as he walks back to his spot on the couch.

“What do you mean?” Mingi inquires, knocking back the rest of his drink shortly after.

“Chest height.” You shrug, to which he immediately starts coughing at your answer. “What? You’re telling me you wouldn’t take full advantage of burying your face in your significant other’s chest if you could?”

You notice the gears in San’s head turning, before a devious look is shining in his gaze. “Does that mean I can have a hug, then?”

He starts to move, only for Hongjoong to reach over and quite harshly tug him back to the ground.

“Ow,” San begins to rub at his ass. “The fuck was that for.”

“You’re not as slick as you think you are,” Jongho rolls his eyes, standing up from the couch next.

“She didn’t deny it!” San counters, pointing in your direction all the while.

You shrug, “maybe next time.”

The way they all turn to look at you, eyes full of both mild surprise, but also excitement has you chuckling in response.

“If that excites you, you guys should all really try thigh riding,” you joke, and you notice how Jongho stumbles over his own two feet just before reaching you. “Oh, someone’s eager.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall closest to you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that a challenge?” You quirk a brow, turning fully towards him now as you take a step forward.

“I doubt you’re up for it,” he quips, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“You’re right,” you smirk, hand landing right beside his head as you lean into him. The way his breath hitches has your voice dropping slightly. “I’ve never really liked brats, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for taming one.”

A mixture of loud, boisterous laughter, and pointed ‘oh’s can be heard from the others around you.

You huff, clearly amused by how silent Jongho gets. His arms fall to his sides as you step in closer, noticing how red begins to creep up his neck as he attempts to maintain his composure.

“What’s the matter, Baby Bear?” You feign concern, your nose brushing against his neck as you lean further into him. “All bark, and no bite?” He shivers as your breath caresses his skin. “Pity.”

His one hand moves to grab your hip, but you’re much quicker.

In the blink of an eye, you have his wrist pinned against the wall, your one leg sliding between his own.

“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you,” with the way your head tilts and the angle you find yourself in, you manage to be looking up at him through your lashes. 

Jongho has never felt smaller in his entire life. The position he finds himself in with you, combined with your words and the way your looking at him has him melting into your touch. So, when his body sinks slightly, allowing himself to rest on top of your thigh between his own, you let him.

The worst part for him, though, is when you pull away.

Jongho just manages to catch himself before he stumbles forward, not expecting you to release him so suddenly. He can only stand there, staring intently at the floor for a good thirty seconds in order to compose himself as you turn back to the other guys.

“Goddammit,” he curses lowly. “How are you so good at this?”

You giggle, and the sound fills the room with a vibrance unlike anything before. Yet, why are their hearts suddenly racing?

“It’s nothing more than the shock of your first time experiencing something like this, probably,” you shrug him off, proud smile pulling at your features. “Or you’re all just secretly in love with me.”

This time, it’s Seonghwa who spits out his drink in response, choking on his breath soon afterwards. Comfortingly, Yunho pats his upper back.

“I’m just playing,” you chuckle, arms crossed loosely over your chest as you shake your head.

“Seriously, you were right,” Wooyoung voices, staring directly at you while Jongho slowly moves back to his seat. “I never knew I needed this until now.”

“San was right to want this,” Yeosang corrects, shooting a brief look at the aforementioned male out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” you salute lightheartedly, two fingers pressing to the side of your forehead before letting out a small click of your tongue as you flick your wrist.

“Hang on, you’re not done yet.” Hongjoong stands to his feet, and immediately, there’s a sudden tension that fills the room.

“Never said that I was, Captain,” you wink playfully, and you almost miss the way he loses his footing just as he steps over Mingi for the moment. Though, you chalk that up to him simply misplacing his balance.

The moment he steps before you, a silence unlike ever before fills the room. All of the guys watch on eagerly to see what you have planned for their leader, and just how he will react to it, too.

“So, I take it you want the immersive experience?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” he replies, breathlessly.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that, yet, mister,” you poke his upper chest lightly, noticing how he tilts his head upwards slightly to meet your gaze.

“We’ll save that for later, then,” he grins, noticing how you slowly begin to back him up into the wall.

“Who said there will ever be a later?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you watch him lightly hit the wall behind him.

His breath hitches as he looks up at you through his lashes, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

“I just did.”

This time, when you place your hand beside his head, it’s slow. The movements are precise, keeping your arm straight for the moment as you casually lean into him.

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow. “What makes you so sure that I’ll agree?”

Hongjoong smirks, his one eyebrow twitching upwards slightly. “I’m positive you’re just as curious as I am.”

“Am I?” You hum, taking a step in closer to him and noticing how his breathing deepens. “Curious of what? Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Joong?”

The way you say his name, your lips curving around the one syllable, is like music to his ears. He cannot stop himself, he goes to reach for you, a shameless whine getting caught in his throat.

Like every time before, you’re quicker. Only, this time, instead of pinning his wrist to the wall beside his head, you raise it, holding it above him as you lean over his entire body.

“You boys are very touchy tonight,” you tut, shaking your head as you lean the slightest bit more into him.

“Can you blame us?” He replies, staring up into your eyes. “This is the first time we’ve experienced a temptation like this before.”

The room remains deadly silent, as if the other seven are fully agreeing with the words Hongjoong is speaking to you right now.

“Yes, the heat of the moment can do that to people,” you chuckle, stepping the slightest bit closer to him so that he can feel your body heat against his own.

It’s slight, but you feel him arch forward in your grip, pressing his body flush against your own.

“We both know it’s more than just that,” his tone is low, sultry as he melts into your touch.

The corner of your lip quirks upwards smugly, pushing him flush against the wall.

“Is it really?” You feign innocence, leaning in to press your forehead against his own. Your noses brush. “I guess we’ll never know.”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve stepped away from him, releasing his wrist and letting it fall back to his side.

“Well, that was fun!” You chirp, completely unaware of how Hongjoong’s dark gaze never leaves your figure even for a second as you move to finally return to your own spot. 

He licks his lips, clearing his throat lightly. Taking a step back towards the seating area, he blinks, refocussing his vision. The sound of laughter reaches his ears, and you all continue on as if nothing happened.

Yet, how can they just act like nothing happened when you’ve fulfilled desires within them that they didn’t even know that they had? This has certainly made them all change the way they view things, especially the way they see you.

All that they do know, is that now, they want you. In ways more than just a friend should.

[ragnarokhound]

hiii im working through all your jaytim week stuff bc i had to be in a wedding that week and i missed it 😭 i WILL leave an annoying amount of comments on ao3 but for now i just wanna say that i love the baseball au fic so bad. i don’t know a single thing about sports but i worked a summer job at the ballpark for a couple years and now whenever the weather gets hot i miss the vibes so bad and i CANNOT stop thinking about Them. do you have any more thoughts or rants or really just any crumbs from this au bc it’s delicious ty

AAHHH OMG I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE WEDDING and you have said the magic words because BOY DO I

I love baseball au!! I am actually very pleased with and proud of baseball au!! In my heart, baseball au has a massive rivals-to-lovers slow burn plot that I simply did not have the time to write OTL so instead for jaytim week, we got the scene that I would have reread over and over again if it had been a book I read in high school lmao

My notes this is a fucking outline how did that happen on baseball au:

Jason was the ace pitcher for the Gotham Knights for a few years running, taking over that mantle from Dick Grayson after he traded to the Bludhaven team. Jason was much more aggressive compared to Dick, and he was a two-way player - he could hit well enough to not need a designated hitter when it was his turn to go to bat, and that versatility made him unpredictable and a threat.

Unfortunately, after a big argument with Bruce about the game, he was hit with a hard injury during the playoffs one year. Everyone said it would be career ending. Bruce said to prepare himself for the worst. Jason takes a year off to recover and doesn't speak to Bruce the whole fucking time.

Enter Tim Drake.

Drake is a rookie, a nobody no one's ever heard of, but he's an excellent pitcher. He's got a million tricks and keeps a cool head. He can read the other team to filth and is ready to change tactics at the drop of a hat.

Word is that he bullied his way into the GM's office and demanded a tryout; Bruce was gonna throw him out. But then he saw him pitch. He was hired on the spot.

They started Drake as a relief pitcher, but it quickly became apparent that he was wasted there. He's switched to starter. They don't make it all the way to the Series that year, but it was pretty fucking close and in large part due to Drake. Not bad for a rookie.

Jason hates him on principle.

Apparently, Jason still has a spot on the team. But they've bumped him down from starter to relief. He knows it's necessary, that his injury still needs babying, but he's still not happy with Bruce. He hates it-- and the games he's relieving for Drake? He hates them most of all. He can't stand the guy.

(He's better than Jason.)

(And he won't quit staring.)

Drake doesn't actively antagonize Jason when training starts. Actually, for the most part, he tries to stay out of Jason's way, watching him quietly from the sidelines while Jason tests his frustrating new limits. But Jason's not about to let Bruce's new golden boy off that easy.

(He's almost surprised by the bite hiding behind those bangs. How fast those watching eyes can narrow in acidic consideration before he tears Jason a new one. He takes vicious satisfaction in seeing Drake sink down to Jason's level. And Drake needs a fucking haircut, but far be it from Jason to give this asshole tips.)

Their synergy is garbage in the first half of the season. Jason prides himself in his game, but when they're sharing the pitch, it throws everything out of whack. They butt heads over everything, and they get hyper competitive; half the time, they're not playing against the other team, they're playing against each other.

By the third game its plain they can't be paired together. Either Drake or Jason fuck up on the mound because one of them was doing something (For Jason, Drake's creepy, unblinking stare is enough to piss Jason off; for Drake, Jason's discovered he can get a rise out of him just by raising an eyebrow at the right time, as if to say really? That's what you're going with?) and the coaches (Babs) have just about had it with them.

They're switched to play on different days when possible, and given stern looks and reminders not to fuck up on the days they have to play together. It grinds Jason's gears, but he sucks it up because he's a fucking adult and his career is on the line. Maybe Drake can do the same.

Things start to change, though Jason can never quite remember when. Maybe they needed the space or whatever, maybe Jason needed to go drinking with Roy and just dump about Drake and Bruce and all of it and hear Roy's drunken two cents, maybe the game against Bludhaven meant seeing Dick and being forced to hear his two cents; maybe he needed to run into Drake at the coffeeshop a block away from the stadium one morning and see him bleary-eyed and clearly hungover. Maybe seeing him outside of the job, his gaze wandering out the window and not fixed on Jason for once, willing to shit-talk Bruce (and to a lesser degree, Dick), shifted something in Jason's brain a little to the left. Maybe it made Drake into a different person, and maybe Tim is someone Jason doesn't actually know that much about. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

They start to improve. They have to play more games together when one of their alts wrecks his ankle, but Jason is still pretty fresh compared to everyone else after being babied all season, and his injury hardly bothers him these days. Tim still flusters Jason at the mound sometimes, but it's not for the same reason. He doesn't know what the reason is yet, but he knows it's not the same. The prickle on the back of his neck that says Tim is watching isn't a precursor to anger, or spite. It's something else.

(And so what if Jason finds himself sticking around after practice days? So what if Tim catches him once, working on his swing, and he offers to pitch for him? So what if Jason suddenly knows he wants to find out how that crooked smile tastes, and threatens to break his bat on it instead? So what if Tim laughs at him like he was joking, because they joke now, and it makes Jason's stomach churn, makes him sick with wanting? So fucking what?)

Bruce even talks to him after a game, all fatherly concern and judgment, wanting to know if it's going to be a problem for him and Tim to be playing together. If he can trust Jason not to jeopardize the game over personal disagreements. Jason doesn't know how to explain it to him and he also doesn't fucking want to. He tells him no, it won't be a fucking problem.

It freaks him out. He backslides, hard. Tim had been warming up to him, but he's obviously surprised about getting the cold shoulder. Surprised and pissed.

He corners Jason in the locker room after a game Jason nearly lost them, a loss that would have shut them out of the Series this year for good. Jason's been closing every game he plays, but Tim had to be sent back in to clean up after his piss-poor showing. He lays into Jason. He reads him to filth. He correctly diagnoses the source of Jason's insecurities and his beef with Bruce that's older than basically any of his other problems, and basically tells him to quit yanking the team-- and Tim-- around. He storms out with the last word, and Jason fumes with his head in his hands.

(Apparently, Tim looked up to Jason, once upon a time. Apparently, Tim was a fan before he was a colleague, a rival; a friend. Apparently he'd been nervous but excited at first to meet Jason in person, to get to talk to one of his heroes. Jason feels like a heel.)

They don't talk after that except to play the game. Tim is professionally distant, doesn't stare at Jason the way he used to, the way he was starting to. The roles reverse-- one week later, he's the one who stares at Tim, watches him take the mound during the game that will decide their fate, decide if they'll go to the Series this year or not, with an awful, burning need bubbling in his chest for Tim to look back at him just once.

When Jason takes the mound for him, Tim glances at him. It's brief, but he nods at Jason, a dare in his eyes that Jason wants to take. It loosens his lungs and lets him breathe for the rest of the game. He plays the best he has all season. And Jason knows the reason.

They win the Series. Bruce offers to put Jason back as a starter next year, but Jason declines and does one more year as a relief pitcher. He's done taking stupid risks with his body, with his career, and he knows if he goes back now he risks a flare up. If he's gonna show Tim up, he's gotta give himself his best chance.

Cue the fic. (They absolutely fuck in the dugout btw. Tim asks with his hands already on Jason's skin-- "Can I touch you?" Tim asks with his mouth already on Jason-- "Can I--")

So i hit the character limit but TAH DAH thats bb au <3

[lostyesterday]

My top ten favorite B7 scenes

B’Elanna/Seven is my current favorite Star Trek ship, so I wanted to make a list of my personal favorite scenes featuring the two of them in Voyager. These scenes aren’t necessarily good (although I do think some of them are), and they’re not necessarily the scenes that provide the best “evidence” for B7 as a ship (which isn’t something I care about all that much to be honest). These are just the scenes that I personally enjoyed and have thought about the most.

10. Someone to Watch Over Me

This episode is terrible, but given how much I’ve thought about this particular scene, I couldn’t not include it. This is the Voyager scene that most clearly demonstrates how obsessed Seven is with B’Elanna and particularly with her romantic relationships. To me personally, this screams oblivious gay crush taking the form of jealous obsession. Obviously, B’Elanna is right and Seven is stepping way out of line here. This is probably the worst thing Seven ever did to B’Elanna and she’s so justified in being mad about it.

9. Survival Instinct

I really enjoy this scene because it’s an example of both B’Elanna and Seven trying to change the adversarial nature of their relationship. B’Elanna is trying to help Seven here even though she has difficulty with her. Seven immediately regrets her defensive response to B’Elanna’s attempted helpfulness. I think it’s interesting to see how the two of them have fallen into a pattern, responding defensively to each other because they’re used to their dynamic being adversarial, when they both theoretically have the capacity to understand each other better than most other people understand either of them.

8. Infinite Regress

The infamous cheek bite scene. Is this scene good? No, probably not. Has it lived in my head rent free since I originally saw it? Yes, absolutely. Technically, you could call this the only intentionally sexually coded Seven/B’Elanna scene in the show. Mostly, the thing I can’t stop thinking about is the two of them joking about it afterward. B’Elanna jokingly asking if this qualifies as their second date… I will think about that line forever.

7. The Voyager Conspiracy

I love everything about this. Seven immediately calling B’Elanna as soon as she thinks she’s found a problem with the ship’s systems regardless of how early it is in the morning. The tone of B’Elanna’s response implying this probably isn’t the first time this has happened. B’Elanna actually investigating the problem even though she’s rightfully irritated at Seven for being so annoying. I love them.

6. Course: Oblivion

It’s so, so easy to interpret this scene as Seven being jealous of Tom’s relationship with B’Elanna. Me when the person I have a crush on just got married: Monogamy is stupid, and it would make way more sense and be better if everyone (you) would have sex with anyone they want to, whenever (me, right now).

5. Human Error

Ignoring my issues with this episode, it’s so interesting how one of Seven’s major attempts to become “more human” is to try to connect to B’Elanna in this way. I think she chose B’Elanna here because she’s someone Seven genuinely wants to connect with at this point in the series, but she still struggles with how to make that connection. Also, I cannot stop thinking about Seven thinking in detail about how B’Elanna does her hair. Given the rest of the scene, I think it makes sense to say that she didn’t choose this question/compliment/terrible flirtation randomly and has genuinely just admired B’Elanna’s hair a lot. Which sure is something. And of course I love B’Elanna’s confusion here. She can tell Seven’s trying really hard to be nice, which is so not like Seven that she can hardly believe it.

4. Message in a Bottle

I love how these two scenes represent both the adversarial tension between B’Elanna and Seven, and the potential ways they could relate to and understand each other with time. B’Elanna is clearly deeply frustrated with Seven, and yet she still tries to explain to Seven why people (not just B’Elanna) are reacting negatively to her. And B’Elanna can obviously relate to being perceived by others as rude, which makes her statement that she doesn’t expect Seven to change overnight, with the subtext that she understands deeply how difficult this situation is for Seven too, really fascinating. Seven initially appearing to ignore B’Elanna and then later saying thank you to her compliment is also great. Also, B’Elanna’s reaction to Seven shocking that guy is so fun.

3. Extreme Risk

This is a short interaction, but it’s so interesting. Seven initially tries to engage in their ordinary adversarial back and forth, but when B’Elanna doesn’t respond in the typical way, immediately asks if something is wrong. I love that Seven is the first person in the episode to notice that there’s something wrong with B’Elanna. It’s so interesting that Seven seems almost disturbed by the lack of any hostility in B’Elanna’s responses and by B’Elanna immediately putting Seven in charge of something she was going to do. I think that, in a way, Seven has grown comfortable with her adversarial dynamic with B’Elanna because it’s familiar. Maybe B’Elanna has grown comfortable with it to, to a certain extent, and her lack of willingness to engage in the typical verbal sparring of their relationship in this episode comes from the same place as her lack of desire to participate in the normal routines of her other relationships. I guess I’m suggesting here that maybe Seven and B’Elanna are both more important to each other than the show explicitly portrays.

2. Hope and Fear

The iconic “we’ll be outcasts together” scene. This is probably the single scene that best illustrates the parallels between Seven and B’Elanna – how both of them have been treated like outcasts and deep down expect to continue to be outcasts forever. How both of them feel deeply ambivalent about belonging – desiring it desperately and yet pushing away from it because they believe they can never have it. Also, B’Elanna’s defensive excuse that she was “joking” two seconds after she realizes she was accidentally way too vulnerable is so good.

1. Imperfection

Thinking about this scene makes me want to scream incoherently, but I’ll try to summarize my main thoughts concisely and analytically. This is probably the scene where B’Elanna and Seven genuinely connect and relate to each other most strongly. B’Elanna understands better than anyone else in this episode what Seven needs, and Seven trusts B’Elanna of all people to ask these questions to, to be vulnerable with in this way. B’Elanna saying that Seven’s made an impact on every member of the crew is… a lot. B’Elanna truly listening to Seven here and understanding what it is that’s bothering her and saying the exact right thing in response. The whole framing of this scene with the close-up shots on faces, the softness in B’Elanna’s voice. Fuck.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for writing a mean song about some friends just for me? 🎆🎇

I (25F) invited 3 friends that live a few hours away to a new year party. This was planned since April. During the last few weeks, all cancelled for various reasons. It's the second New Year they do this to me, last time I only had one guest. They invite me twice or thrice a year at their place and I go most of the time. The only time they came to visit me was because they visited some other friends near me and needed a place to sleep.

I was very frustrated with their cancellation, quite sad and angry too. I still am. I didn't tell them about those feelings except by expressing what I consider a normal amount of disappointment without trying to make them uncomfortable. I respect their choice and I try not to read too much into it, but part of me thinks that the effort to see each other is not equally distributed. But since I have the most stable situation of all of us financially and mentally, I try to keep those thoughs to myself.

They got stuck in my head and I'm in a very sour mood since then. While driving home today, I started singing an angry impromptu song addressing them. It was fun and I found it surprisingly catchy. I recorded some ideas, some lyrics, and when I got home I tried to play an accompaniment on the piano. I now have an almost finished song with what I consider to be very mean lyrics about my friends.

To be clear it's like "I love you but you are assholes, here are the things that annoy me the most about your cancellation". Name calling doesn't get any worse than "asshole" or equivalent words in my language. The part I feel the worst about is the one where I mention the anxiety of a friend which made her not want to come. (Something like "It's not your fault but your anxiety makes me so mad, I uninvited a loud friend for you and you are not coming, it sucks").

I have no intention of making this song public, even among my close circle. I told my girlfriend I wrote it but I won't sing it to her. But I really like how it sounds and will probably sing it a lot in the coming days.

On the one hand, my friends don't know about it and I won't damage their reputation by making the song public. On the other end, I feel like writing a full song addressing each of them by name to bitch about the situation might be crossing the line between "normal venting" and "being mean". It might be weird to put so much effort into it. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Connors Favorite Sibling Would Include:

Requested: could I request something with Connor and Roy!sibling? headcanons, a fic, literally anything I'm in love with their relationship and how much they love each other. I think a little sibling that loves Connor the way he deserves would be so good for him - anon

A/N: I love Big Brother Connor!!! He deserves the world 💞 Thank you for requesting my love! Hope you like it!! Feedback is always appreciated!!!! 💜

Connor was ecstatic the day you were born. He thought he was done being a big brother, that his job was kinda done. Ken, Rome, and Shiv were grown up, they didn't think they'd need him anymore. Little did he know that you would be the closest to him out of everyone, that you would need him the most

Being a big brother is his favorite job in the world. He wasn't sure what being loved, really loved, felt like until Kendall was born. From the minute he could crawl, he followed Connor wherever he wanted. So did Roman. And when Shiv was born, he couldn't believe it. He'd always wanted a sister and now he had one. She was absolutely perfect

But you? You were his everything. Neither your mother or your father were all that interested, so the responsibility fell on him, not that he would ever complain. He loved it, even when you spit up on him. The other three were grossed out, hating to change diapers and getting annoyed with your crying, but he was more than happy to calm you down, sit with you, rock you back and forth, etc.

Your first words were his name, too, which almost killed him. Seriously, he still brings it up, he's so proud

He loved watching you grow into a toddler. You were a lot more fun. You could walk and talk and play. You loved when he got on the floor with you and played with you. He even dressed up with you when he wanted to play pretend, though mostly he was too tall for the costumes, so he made do with the hats and accessories instead

"Connor?"

"Yes y/n?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

"That's a good question. . ."

He takes you to preschool every day and tries to be there at pickup as much as he can. He loves to hear about your day, what you learned, who you talked to, what you played with, the snacks you ate, etc. He only gets more interested the older you get, when you learn about the planets and dinosaurs and you read all these interesting books. When school started, he was sad to see you go. You'd been his little buddy and suddenly you were all grown up

Every presentation, award, musical, play, game, show, everything he showed up for, front row with his phone out recording, cheering the loudest

He takes you camping, to the park and the movies, wherever you want to go. He thinks it's good for you to get out of the city

"Why doesn't dad ever come with us?"

"Pops is a very busy man. . ."

Connor is constantly sticking up Logan despite the fact that he's never really shown an ounce of love or attention towards either of you. He wants to protect you from that unloved feeling. He needs to, like he has with your siblings

No matter how small it seemed to you, it meant the world to him. Eventually you stopped inviting your mother and father, going straight to him. He'd tell the president to fuck off if it meant he got to spend a second more with you

He helped you with homework, staying up late at the kitchen table going over the same math problem again and again. He never got mad or frustrated, though. He'd take as long as you needed

You could do no wrong in his eyes. When you fought with Ken, when you argued with Shiv, when you pushed Rome, none of it was your fault. None of them could stand it

When you cried he was the first person you went to. When you got your heart broken for the first time, when you wondered why your parents even had you if they were never around, when you had nightmares as a child and when your worst fears came true, you cried to him

The older you got, the more distance you put between you and him. Kids strayed from their parents once they became teenagers, that's just how it worked. Still, he felt unprepared for the days when you wouldn't need him so much

He taught you how to drive and study with you before your test. You weren't very good, but you had no idea. He was ecstatic when you parallel parked the first time. He made you feel proud, even if at first it felt silly

He was there when you walked across the stage for your diploma for both high school and college, cheering the loudest. He made a rule that you'd call him once a week in college and you never missed it, not even once. You'd tell him about your friends, the parties you went to, to the people you were seeing. He wanted to hear everything

Everything you've accomplished, he couldn't be prouder

You go to his ranch as much as you can, enjoying the distance between you and your father. The older you get, the more you realize how he was never in your life and how much Connor was. It makes you sad, thinking he had to step up, take responsibility for his baby sibling. He is adamant that raising you was a pleasure, the best thing he's ever done

He has pictures of you everywhere. Of the others too, but mostly of you. You can't help but find them embarrassing

"I look like an idiot."

"You were adorable." He looks at them every single day, proud as ever

He visits you in the office, taking you out for lunch when he's in the city. He's the only one who doesn't work for your father, but he likes hearing about it from you. He can't believe how grown up you are, how adult you've suddenly gotten. It seems like just yesterday they brought you home. Now you had meetings and deadlines and your own interns to boss around

"Look at you, all grown up. I can't believe it!"

He's the first person you call when anything happens. When Kendall's gone manic, when Dad hits Rome, when Shiv seems off, when you're getting a promotion, a first date, anything and everything. He's always there to offer advice on how to handle the situation. He's been dealing with them far longer than you have

You show him how to use social media so he can see the pictures you post, not wanting to miss out on anything. There are lots of pictures of you and him together

"Who's that?"

"I'm kinda seeing them."

"That's wonderful! When do I get to meet them?"

Forget your mother and father, it's Connor you're worried about when you're seeing someone. They're never good enough for you. He quizzes them on everything, bordering on an interrogation. In the end, no matter what he thinks of them, he's happy you've found someone that makes you happy

You and him go on double dates with your partner and Willa, who adores you. She lovingly calls you Connors Baby. She's glad someone else loves him like he should be, instead of being used and ignored and neglected like the rest do

You're one of the most well-rounded, healthy, adjusted Roys to come out of the family, or as close as you can get, because of him

He always sits by you at family dinners and vacations, between you and Logan, hoping he can be the target for his anger if need be

When you drink too much he takes care of you, especially at weddings, and always saves a dance for you at the end of the night

"Thank you, Con."

"For what?"

"For everything."

You care very little for your father, but when he dies Connor is right there offering comfort. You were never close to him. You never got the chance to build a relationship with him, no matter how warped, like the others. Connor was your dad, you thought so for the longest time when you were little, your fathers day cards addressed to him instead of Logan. You're sad for your siblings who loved him despite it all

You're the only one to attend Connors wedding, cheering and clapping when they kiss. You wouldn't have missed it for anything

Connor has spent your entire life protecting you and for that, you will always be grateful. It's something you can never repay

[thestrangestthing89]

Season 1. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Season 2. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Mike Character Analysis - Season 2 Part 4:

So now the whole group has made its way to the Byers house, Will is still unconscious and a spy, and demo dogs are on the loose. They come up with a plan to wake Will up in the shed so he can't tell where he is and spy again. They need information and can spy back. Several important things happen for Mike here. Mike, Joyce, Jonathan, and Hopper are the only ones in the shed. The people who care about Will the most. I'm including Hopper in this because he has done nothing but protect this kid since he's gone missing. So while he doesn't tell stories like the others (he hasn't known him as long) he still cares about him. It's Mike's story about meeting Will on the first day of kindergarten that first connects with Will and gets him to communicate with morse code. It's an emotionally moving scene. Mike calls it "the best thing he's ever done" and Joyce and Jonathan are visibly touched by this. Everyone is teary. It speaks to the deep bond between Mike and Will that it's this moment that gets Will to reach out to them and find his way back. But Mike realizes that closing the gate will kill Will - he's trying to sacrifice himself to save the group. And Mike won't allow this, so he comes up with another plan so this doesn't happen. Mike is the one who logically comes up with a plan to stop the supernatural forces in every season, except season 4 and it's part of the reason why they lose. He's able to quickly figure out what the problem is and find a solution under pretty tense circumstances each time, which isn't an easy thing to do. It's one of the many reasons I get annoyed with the Mike hate. He absolutely does have a purpose in the group and the narrative. He makes the plans that everyone else carries out. He's the one who strategizes. Now El returns and Mike has a melt down. Again, let's not oversimplify Mikes feelings. Yes he's relieved to see her, yes he's pissed at Hopper for hiding her, but that is not the only thing going on here. He just had a really traumatic couple of days. Not to mention the fact that his "attitude" (it's depression) has been something he's struggling with for the past year. Mike was already on the verge of breaking down. El was the final straw and the thing that pushed him over the edge. Back to my earlier point about Mikes melt down with Hopper. Mike is saying Hopper is a "liar" and that he's "disgusting". This doesn't really add up. Hopper never lied about El because they all thought she was dead and there was nothing to indicate otherwise. We have no evidence that Mike went looking for her or asked Hopper if he saw her around. The comment about him being disgusting is very specific. Yes, this could just be Mike and his attitude again but let's look deeper. Mike is taking all of his frustrations and trauma and putting it on Hopper and Hopper is letting him. HE IS TAKING OUT HIS PROBLEMS OUT ON HOPPER. So what are his problems here? - he's a liar and he's disgusting. The first one is more straightforward. A possessed Will screams at Mike that he's a liar when they are in the hospital and Mike is trying to explain why he needs to be unconscious. A moment that had to have had a big impact on Mike not only because his best friend is being horrible and yelling things that aren't true, but because Mike is doing what he promised. Will wanted Mike to make sure he couldn't spy and hurt anyone. Mike is doing that and getting called a liar.

The next comment is a little harder to clarify unless you take my earlier point into consideration. If Mike was all protective of Will at the hospital, did one of the soldiers/doctors see and make a comment about this? Is this where the "you're disgusting" comments come from? Or is this Mike internalizing things? Is he fully coming to the conclusion that he's gay and in love with Will at the worst possible time? - when El returns and everyone will expect him to have feelings for her. I believe it's definitely the last one and even if no one at the lab called them disgusting, bullies at school had no problem calling Will (and Mike by association) gay and have probably said as much.

This point is further emphasized by the fact that El tries to kiss Mike and Mike does not reciprocate. He has just been through a thing. El leans in to kiss him and Mike stands there with his eyes wide open and doesn't move. It's honestly inappropriate that she tries to do this and she's clearly recreating all the soap operas she's watched. They haven't seen each other in a year and she is just picking up where they left off, but Mike is in a whole new place. Hopper interrupts this moment, I'm pretty sure he's trying to spare Mike here (I wrote more about this here). And we have Mike watching both El and Will leave the Byers house. Something we see again in season 3. The easy answer is that he's watching El leave and is just so emotional at her return. But again this over-simplifies his feelings. Yes this is part of it, but Mike has just been through it. And he has been through it with Will. This has been a long shitty night and he just broke down and now both El and Will are off to go put themselves in even more danger and he's being told to stay home.

Something pretty subtle happens when Will and El both leave the Byers. The rest of the kids are left at the house with Steve and Dustin and Mike are trying to come up with a plan to help out. Mike's idea is entirely based off of what he saw happen at the lab. On the surface, he's helping El. But what he's really doing is helping Will. Because his plan is to go into the tunnels and use fire to distract the demogorgon. But he saw what the fire did to Will. He saw how when he was possessed this cause him pain. Only now he knows that Will is fully possessed and the MF likes it cold. It's what Jonathan, Joyce, and Nancy are doing at the cabin. They are sweating the MF out. And it's this last push by Mike in the tunnels that ends up saving Will. Will goes through his de-possession with Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy. Mike is away from him for the first time all season. It's important to note that Mike doesn't bring El up at all through any of the lab drama. The last time he mentions her is at the school when he thinks he sees her walking around. Afterward, his entire focus is on Will until she returns. Of course it is, Will is his best friend and he's in trouble. So Mike is now not with Will for the first time and it's noticeable. It's the start of Mike not being able to figure out what he's doing when El and Will exist in the same space with him. A theme that continues through the next 2 seasons.

Part 5

[leftsidebonfire]

Western One Shot Horrors: How a Forever-DM can still make for a shitty player.

Im venting here, about what happened last night. Full context and all.

As far as this story goes, it's not the worst horror story in terms of creepy behavior, but this just happened, and it was easily the most frustrated I've ever felt while playing dnd.

For context, our dnd group plays with the main story for 3 weeks, but then the fourth week, one of the players takes a turn running a one-shot so the Forever-DM can have a break from writing and play. There are 7 of us in total and we rotate one shots so everyone gets a chance to show off their DM skill and it's always fun.

The irony of this, is that the DM is the biggest problem player that we have. I love playing in his campaign each week, but when it comes to him as a player in someone else's game, he becomes extremely annoying. I understand wanting to break free and let loose once a month, maybe cause some chaos in a fun little one shot, but I'm talking about the full murderhobo character, Every. Single. Time. He always needs to destroy the town were in by the end of it, or brutalize the enemy. There was even one time he kept interrupting the other players to butt in about how he was going to kill the villain. It's one shots, so it's never a *huge* problem, but it does get annoying.

But the biggest frustration happened just last night. The only people who have any part in this story are me, the DM for the night, and him.

B=Problem Player, playing a Fire Genasi Rogue.

I created a homebrew world for my one shot. It's themed to be the old west with cowboys and guns, and I even created homebrew subclasses for them to try out for a little extra flavor, as well as hand drawn maps, with the idea that they will finish in one city and then decide where to go, so the next time it comes around to my turn, I'll have time to plan and prepare for the city they choose to explore. I have very few rules for the game, but one of them is to play it a bit more seriously. No joke characters. To be clear, I want my characters to have fun and joke around, but just to play it a bit more seriously, like a regular campaign.

We start the game and everything is going great, the group is absolutely loving exploring my town and Gambling, but B continues to go off away from the party. It's not inherently bad at first, but it is kind of annoying when I wrangle everyone together so I can continue and he just disappears again.

B and another player try to talk to the Sheriff NPC, but he's got a certain time that he's supposed to come in, and that's later. I let them talk to a receptionist at the Sheriff's office and tell them that he's out patrolling right now and will be back in later if they're looking for him. Basically my way of saying “this quest is not available yet, go find something else to do.”

Then B decides to go try and get some money "for gambling" by doing chores around the stables, but his real plan was just to shovel horse manure over the fence so he could collect it. He takes two balls of manure, goes over to the church in town (the plot point for later, where the battle was going to take place) Lights them on fire, and hurls them at the church.

Now I had two options for what might happen at the church. If the group were to investigate, they could learn some history about the town and the door would be locked. Or, if they tried to break in or destroy the church at all, it would rouse the sheriff. The plan was that once they meet the Sheriff, he asks them to help on night watch, which then pushes them right into the next plot point where they see creepy things happening at night. If the sheriff was angry, then he would offer to sweep it under the rug if they agreed to help.

I thought I had planned for everything. Clearly, I had not.

So, I come in as the sheriff, asking him what he thinks he's doing setting the church on fire. And then I propose the deal that we can put this all behind us if B and his group can help on Night Watch.

And B is absolutely not accepting it. He argues with me for probably 20 minutes of real time. I absolutely cannot make it any clearer that he is supposed to take this plot point. I repeat myself over and over. I threaten him with a night in jail for trying to vandalize the church and burn it down? He always says “You can TRY to hold me.” All smug. I tell him his only options are either a night in prison, or night watch. He keeps trying to say I'm a bad sheriff for not being around when he went to the Sheriff's office. I explain AGAIN why the sheriff was away, and he just tries to claim that he was summoning him here and it worked.

The reason he was even TRYING to summon the Sheriff was so that the OTHER PLAYER could talk to him! Not even him! And I told him that they'd all be able to talk on the night watch and they could ask any questions they wanted. He kept arguing saying it “wasn't his decision to make.”The entire time, B kept acting like he had anything to negotiate with. As if he wasn't the one hurling FLAMING HORSE MANURE AT THE CHURCH. There was seriously nothing I could do to get this to move along. Putting my foot down didn't even work. I was holding my ground about this and he still found a way to undermine me. I just kept repeating the ultimatum of “do this quest (the plot) or you go to jail for destruction of property” and he RUNS AWAY. He runs back to the gambling hall to “bring the sheriff to where the group was.”

I really didn't want to concede to this, but I did, and I snapped at him a bit, kind of implying that the sheriff only follows him and doesn't attack him for running away because we've got a **plot** we still have to follow. (And B tells me to calm down under his breath). I push past the argument and just continue to read the plot as written but B seems really checked out for the rest of the session. He wasted probably 20 minutes of actual game time trying to argue with me about the plot and wouldn't take my No for an answer. Not once did he ever take the hint. 

Now, let me make one thing very clear. If this were a long-standing campaign, I would have been more open to it. Maybe some drama, arresting him, letting the group do a jailbreak plot. But this was a one shot. We had 4 hours to get through what I had in mind and then it was done, for good. Sometimes a bit of light railroading is necessary, and I still was trying to let people have their fun. I'd spent a month planning this one shot and putting in all my hard work, so I don't think it was too much to ask that the players follow my storyline.

I am not a professional DM. I've run a couple of one shots before and that's about it. I've been playing for years, but only rarely DMing, so I don't always have the ability to think on the fly like that. As I look back on it, I see how I could have handled it differently, like going out of character to just tell him outright that he needs to listen to me, or something like that. But I was determined to resolve it in character, thinking there was no way he would keep fighting me about this for that long. Every time I tried to get him back on the right track, he found another way around it. And not only that, he also is very bad at taking criticism in the past, so I feel like this situation would have gone bad either way. I had a million things running through my mind at that point and of course, I always think of what I could have done differently after I've had time to reflect.

I had thought I'd lost my temper, but my cousin who was also playing told me later she thought I handled it very well and I seemed calm and level headed about it. That made me feel a bit better about things. I have an entire world with 9 more cities everyone is excited to explore, but this experience has really made me not want to DM for B as a player anymore. The rest of the group was wonderful, and I really like them all. And I (usually) like B as a DM, too. But this one thing has really shown me a lot about B as a player, and if he's going to act like that, then I don't want him playing in my games just to purposely ruin them or be difficult.

He told me later he was “trying to speed things along” but all he proved to do was grind us to a completely impassable roadblock. I wish he would have just listened to me and trusted my story. I tell him “be a bit more serious for this world” and he throws around flaming horse poop and won't listen to me.

Anyway, this was honestly mostly a way to vent my frustrations, because I had been having a wonderful time that night until that useless argument kind of just ruined my fun.

[mirchloe]

it's the last day of lesbian visibility week, so here's a few lesbian headcanons!

franke realized she liked girls when she was real, real little. she just didn't have any interest in boys. she always wanted to be around girls and be liked by them. kitty is her first girlfriend, and she feels really special when they're together. she feels like kitty picked her out of every other girl in camp. i do think this earns lili's frustration because she used to be close with kitty, so there's a bit of jealousy at play, and franke has picked up on it a little.

frazie and norma lesbian realness. personally, i like aro lizzie who doesn't care much for gender or using labels, but she does have preference for girls. back to the teen lesbian duo, though, i love that they're somewhat classic opposites attract because frazie still has so much baggage to unpack about her own internalized psy-phobia. i don't think they'd be close during that first summer, especially since frazie is more of a wild card, and norma, now a junior agent, is aspiring to become a full-fledged "drop the junior" agent. they're stubborn! they're snide! norma's hitting her with a smile that oozes smugness, and frazie knows she can just fling her like a rubber band, but fine, she wants smug? she wants cocky? frazie has that in spades. (also, she isn't that miffed about the hazing deal as i think people headcanon her to be - she practically rolls her eyes when raz says she can defend him or whatever during her dialogue tree. she'd be a little annoyed, yeah, but nothing like, 'ohh, you guys are the worst, and i'm gonna pelt you all with acorns the size of your heads, if you don't say sorry.' raz would be embarrassed because those are his friends, and he doesn't need a sorry because they've taken him under their wing! they like him! he's a cool li'l dude!) but what makes frazie and norma so interesting to me is that they can bring out different sides of each other. norma is proud to be psychic, proud to be an agent, and she can show frazie that there is joy in being a psychic. frazie can help norma leave her carefully cultivated shell, get messy, be a little rebellious (reasonably! because norma is not risking her job). also, raz would make the most disgusted faces at them. it's his personal hell. goodbye, razputin.

cassie and gloria are old women yuri. i think cassie's affection for lucy is unrequited. she simply doesn't feel the same, and cassie internalized that, especially since she went decades without having her answers. lucy loves her, but it's not the same as what cassie desired. it's a bygone love, and cassie has learned to move on - and so has gloria! she dealt with so much comphet throughout her life and her personal tragedies. she had affairs with men and women, and realizing she's a lesbian later in life was freeing. i think they'd have a sweet romance, something comforting and filling of their gaps.

and speaking of comphet, the camper queen of it - elka. what can be said about her? she's beholden to her foresight. she believe whatever horrors the future shows her. it will come true. it's happened for all the dooms. so, seeing herself with nils is like a sentence. she will be with him, and since she's become that entwined with fate, she's determined to at least make herself happy in their relationship, even when she's forcing it on him, and nils is clearly wanting out (though, nils isn't exactly innocent, either). she moves to the flow of the waves, so her big moment is saying no to the future, realizing that she needs to grab her own happiness instead of nodding along to the insistence of her visions. i think she'd realize she prefers girls when she's older (twenty-something? maybe mid to late twenties) since her childhood and teenage years are spent being "boy crazy" and "spiraling in depression," as written by her therapist. (at least dogen is good soundboard when she needs to vent! he thinks she's being dramatic, but gets that she's going through a lot and tries to help, though his advice often goes through elka's ear and out the other.)

[idrawcats]

Just read Sky, and here are some quick thoughts

I actually liked this book more than I was expecting

I really liked how political it was — every POV character was grappling with politics in some capacity

I loved seeing the rise of factionalism in ShadowClan

It was interesting to me that the main traditionalists were two family groups that were both hit hard by the events of the previous two arcs (Berryheart, Yarrowleaf, and Snowbird, especially, are a family who lost several members as a direct result of the Kin in AVOS, and more still due to interfering with the Ashfur situation in TBC)

They have a good reason to oppose outsiders entering ShadowClan, but that doesn’t make them right

Berryheart is a special kind of crazy, straight up yelling at her leader

I loved all the drama in RiverClan and Mothwing trying desperately to hold the Clan together

There’s definitely some shady shit going on with Splashtail, and probably others too

I hate Tigerheartstar, but I really like that he’s being pushed toward tyranny by a dangerous combination of grief, ego, and his power as a Clan leader

I can’t wait to see where this all goes

Oh and somethings up with Bramblestar

Again

I also really liked that Frostpaw doesn’t really have a connection to StarClan

Also lmao poor Owlnose

Nightheart and Sunbeam are both very annoying to me, but I feel like their POV chapters perfectly encapsulates what it’s like to be a teenager, which is the target audience

Both of them are petty and insecure, and they actively encourage the worst in each other, but they’re terrible in a way that’s realistic to teenagers

Nightheart specifically reminds me of myself in high school (please bear in mind, I’ve now graduated from college)

His eagerness to prove himself and frustration with not being taken seriously is unfortunately relatable

Actually what I like about Nightheart’s POV is that he’s a great example of an unreliable narrator

Like you can see how he comes to the conclusion that he’s being given apprentice tasks because everyone doubts him and he failed his assessment twice, and his insecurity makes him angry and bitter, which makes him snotty and withdrawn from everyone, which makes people dislike him (for valid reasons)

And all of that feeds his victim complex, so he digs himself deeper and deeper into his hole of self-pity

Honestly, it seemed to me that everyone’s reaction to Nightheart’s dramatics was totally reasonable

Thriftear and Flipclaw teased him all in good fun, but he saw it as making fun of him and doubting him

Squirrelflight reprimanded him for disobeying her and going to ShadowClan because it was a dangerous move, both politically and literally, but Nightheart took her reprimand personally because of his insecurity

Not to mention, he’s given apprentice tasks because he’s the youngest warrior and there aren’t any apprentices, but again, his anger and insecurity makes him take it as an insult

And honestly, it seems more like he’s the one constantly comparing himself to Firestar than his Clanmates do

Also, it seems like Nightheart expects special treatment from Squirrelflight and Bramblestar and is offended when they don’t give it to him

Reading from an outside perspective, it’s painfully obvious that Nightheart himself is the root of all his problems, but I can empathize with him because I too have been an angsty teenager who felt like it was me against the world (especially within my family)

I think the most interesting part of Nightheart’s POV by far was getting caught in the crossfire of his grandparents’ fucked up relationship

Also dear god Bramblestar and Squirrelflight are back at it again PLEASE JUST BREAK UP WITH HIM SQUILF YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER

Sunbeam also gives massive teen vibes, due to her petty drama with Lightleap

Literally only a high schooler would think “wow my ex-bestie is grieving for her little brother… too bad we’re not friends anymore and it’s not my problem!“ but then get jealous that she’s not the one comforting her friend

I really think Sunbeam and Nightheart won’t work out, just like a typical teen romance

Nightheart is using Sunbeam as an escape from his problems in ThunderClan, but he’ll realize that HE is the problem when the same things happen to him in ShadowClan

Not to mention that Nightheart doesn’t seem to REALLY want Sunbeam as a mate — he’s latching onto her as an opportunity to leave ThunderClan because she’s the only cat who puts up with him

Sunbeam is using him as a rebound — she doesn’t really like him, she just likes that he likes her

I think that this relationship has the potential to be great for both characters’ development, but only if it doesn’t work out

Please Erin’s I’m begging you don’t fuck this up I like where you’re going with this arc PLEASE don’t write another BristleRoot or turn this into the second half of AVOS

[rewordthis]

So one episode left…

Gate: … Close?

How come we’re robbed of an episode this season? Season one was 24 episodes long. Usually anime with double the size of episodes are 24 episodes long. Could this be due to the recap I wasn’t able to find? Or because the animators are about to pass out from being worked to the bone?

⚠️Be warned: I rant ALOT this time around so don’t read if you can’t handle it. 🤷‍♀️

I see right and left people screaming at each other, especially those saying how this isn’t a nicely animated series being told off for ever mentioning something like that and that this season is literally killing the animators working for MAPPA because of the inhumane working schedule so people should be thankful to even get it and you know what? I held back all this time from saying it but it was nowhere near entertaining watching the show thus far save for some very specific exceptions.

Certainly not the nicely put-together series I loved from first season…

I keep comparing it to the first season and the movie and beside the five first episodes (not that these were stellar but still…), that many claimed it to be an artistic option to look like that, the series is decimated with bad scrip and awful flow and disturbingly bright colours that sometimes actually detract from the vibe. Not always! And I stress that because the Choso vs Yuuji fight was beautiful and Mahito’s deployment in Uzumaki was beyond pretty but the series are dark alright. It’s not exactly some neon-pop phantasmagoria to have that all the time. Also, the fight scenes have zero choreography and are often a mess that portrays nothing sort of non-cohesive stills here and there. Not to mention how annoying it is to have the luminosity suddenly drop from 100% to 30%. I have paused and rewinded FAR too many times trying to understand what’s going on to find it amusing anymore. All in all though, the worst part out of this season are the fights and I don’t think there’s anyone that caught whiff of what was going on without “rewinding” and pausing every frame — there’s no way you can enjoy something like this — unless you know, you have read the manga first... 😕😔

And in general let me break this down further by answering some really simple questions:

Are there incredible scenes? Yes.

Are there nice proportions and nicely portrayed characters most of the time? Yep!

Is the flow making sense? Somewhat?

Is the build up of the story engaging? Meh.

Are the fight sequences easy to follow with beginning, build up and climax? 7/10 no.

Animators are overworked? Then let them rest for fucks sake! I rather have the season postponed than have this… this “THING”! *waves hands wildly* This is not nice or good or desirable for both the fans and the workers. Give them time to sleep. Give the series time to come out properly. MAPPA managed to fuck up both its manpower and a popular series with one stone this time!

Honestly, I may come off as an ungrateful bitch and you know what? Think what you want, I may very well be one because it already sucks for me watching the series and knowing how much it sucks for the people behind it’s production; I can’t feel thankful for their efforts even more if it’s a product of frustration and pain. I feel disgusted by the executives for creating and prolonging this situation. I feel guilty for the animators working just to make their living. I hate the whole scheme of things inside and out of the anime industry. I honestly, honestly, would prefer the series went on hold until there was enough time to be produced normally and evenly. Just churning out episode after episode with shit quality simply because they need to ride the hype from the manga is not just bad business, is bad fan practice too.

If I didn’t know jack how the anime business in Japan works, I’d wish for the fanbase to turn their backs on this production but from what I’ve gathered projects get the guillotine treatment when there is no engagement. And it’s not like the employees can have a legal say on all this, as the Japanese law allows for companies that get negative criticism to file for defamation against whoever so much as speaks about them. I really hate that… 😤 Even worse, leaving a company is viewed as you not being a proper and cooperative employee in most cases, so you end up being undesirable for other companies. Unless these animators don’t have a back up plan they literally have nowhere to go if they leave MAPPA. Someone do correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve come across many articles talking how this is a main toxic work trait in Japan. It’s why Nanami got killed, kids. Wake up!

But to make it perfectly clear, those who say that this season is not good? They have every right to say it if you’re just going to claim the bad working conditions in MAPPA. To be more precise, it is exactly what is shown in this season that makes it bad. It’s the mess in production that pours through and that’s why this is a badly animated series. Not just the wacky lines or the mad dimming etc. but also the scenario and the flow that are just… gasping to catch up to the events. No matter how much the animators work themselves to the ground producing amazingly beautiful imageries the problem remains the same; there’s a scenario that confuses and breaks off and leaves openings way too much to help the viewer follow the story and that is what a story is mainly told for. Each mean/medium (call it whatever) has a different way to tell a story effectively. Just because Gege wrote it that way in the manga it doesn’t mean that is the optimal way for the anime to play it out, too. It’s not that hard to understand that, is it? And that’s exactly what I don’t like this season. The scenario. The direction. The flow. That’s all I’m saying. Will I still watch it? Yes, because I like the story and the characters and more importantly it’s already out. I’m not having a say as to when or how an episode airs so I take what I’m given. Do I like the execution so far? Mmm… Some parts I adore, some I hate, and some are neutral as they should. Do I think it’s a masterpiece? Well, I’ll have to rewatch it with that specific question in mind to be able to answer this one. It sure is one hell of an effort, though. 🫤

Anyway, moving on from my rant — holidays bring out the worst in me, so ignore the negativity I give off in this post; let’s see what this episode’s good points were because I need to laugh this off somehow and let’s ponder on the new info we got from it… Shall we?

So! MeiMei bailed, huh? Same, not gonna play the bigger person here. But if she had the time to pick up her laptop, fly to Malaysia — ah, Nanamin where are you? 😭 — and treat herself a Merlot wouldn’t that mean she also had time to buy a bra? Girl! Put them melons away from UiUi; kid’s gonna die of nosebleed!

Yet, you’re flying out of Japan for what? To avoid the higher ups, I’m sure. All while tracking the stock market and telling your friend(?) that is at a completely different time zone too(!) to sell everything they have in Japan. And who is that friend you want to keep you in the loop? What loop??? To which country??? (The one country with a strong economic presence and a day/night deference I can think of is A… 😬) And so what if you move your assets? If the curses win, fuck the world! Not just Japan or the developed countries! 😑 That friend also knowing of jujutsu… I’m so curious, but also scared. This is Gege we’re talking about here. 😬

At this point though, I’m amazed that Kusakabe didn’t do the same already… Ah, but it’s not that he didn’t try, huh? With Panda around, not even crawling under a rock (rubble, but still— literally!) and playing dead didn’t work. lmao

No, he’s good, he’s good. I like my scaredy-cat to know where to draw the line and not feel ashamed of being afraid. His character is actually starting to grow on me okay?

Also, I take it he’s Miwa’s mentor? Why? How? I can’t even begin to explain why this is hilarious and wrong at the same time but I mean, he’s gotta be, right? The one moment Miwa was talking about her mentor (very vague her background story ngl — only notable thing the fact her hair are natural ciel! Whaw!) and the next Kusakabe enters the scene like… he’s gotta be her mentor!

His New Shadow Style slays btw. Didn’t expect it to be that powerful. The way he cut Mahito and left a crater… mhnnn 😳 I mean, MeiMei did say he’s super strong — Yuuji-level — but that was a new level of strong even when accounting for Yuuji as well… 😗

By the way, Mr. Braingoo going full-mode Geto before realising it himself... I laughed. HARD!!! I mean I was having a double take when he started explaining about Uzumaki to Yuuji, much like how Geto did during his fight with Yuuta. Oops~

“Geto! Give the Goo back!”

Mr. Call-Me-What-You-May laughing at himself has some good humour in him though, not complaining one bit here. He’s intriguing as a character. Waiting some good cooking from Gege with this one.

Now, my biggest issue in this guy was that he didn’t really let Yuuji’s fight with Mahito have a closure. I mean maaan? Why did you have to do that, Gege? I wanted to test my “Soul Portion” theory*[see end of post]! Not to mention, he really used Mahito’s abilities in Uzumaki against MIWA! BRO! Anticlimactic, Gege… 😗 Aah~

I even felt bad for Mahito — if you believe that! I actually pitied him at the end. He realised he was going to get betrayed “Because you are humans. (So I was right when I said in a previous post that this little fella (Brainy) was actually a human before, huh?) Because I was born from you (humans).” Because he understood the human nature. I still think this had something to do with my theory but Gege made sure we won’t find out. 🥸 It was interesting to see that Mahito was still ‘alive’ as a cursed ‘pill’, too. (How do you call them balls Geto’s technique turns those spirits into??? 🥶) And that all from Mr. Brainiac admiring Yuuji’s ‘durability’. He actually said: “even I am surprised”. And why him specifically? 🧐

Also, was he speaking to Geto or Mahito, when he said that he had also noticed the ‘other presence’ he felt? I got confused over this.

And panda asking if Yuuji was back to being normal. Huuuuuh… I’m just glad Yuuji reunited with someone as persevering as Panda. 😮‍💨

In that respect, I also didn’t understood to what exactly Panda referred to here. The Prison Realm? Or Gojo in the Prison Realm??? 🤨🧐 Darling be more specific?

And then Choso came back — and here I had started wondering what happened to him — sweet urchin buns came right in the moment. (I won’t talk about how cute he was all curled up in that curve in the wall, ok? I can’t! He was too cute!!! Gives him my handkerchief to wipe his tears… 🫠) And what revelations! 🫢 Yuuji is his brother? His BROTHER?! Choso is the Onii-chan, again?! 👀 Another buratha? No… I get it. He said it’s a side effect of his technique so he is actually related to Yuuji, if not by genes then surely by blood and technique. He also said he’s got three parents… Fuck Cramer vs Cramer. Fuck all custody battles ever fought. Gege just clowned every single one of them! 🤡 And Choso just going “my father who I hate, Kamo Noritoshi!” and Noritoshi actually asking “Me?!” I do not kid you as I say I HOLLERED!!! HAHAHA Darling you can’t be his papa, Choso may be a newborn into the world but he’s 150 years old!!! I want to know if the Thing still has Kamo’s technique in store, now. I’m curious. From what Choso said Mr. Goo could be the papa of Yuuji in a way, too??? O3O Does Yuuji baby have a blood manipulation technique he’s yet to discover??? @3@ And Brainy did say “even I”, to be sure, earlier… so he does have something to do with Yuuji. And we still are in the dark of Yuuji’s origins. Huff hufff huf! Whatever it is it’s in Yuuji’s blood though. In his body, I’d say but who am I. Choso made it clear that he’s got to have a blood relation to someone to feel the changes they go through. And he also specifically said that Kamo-jisan put his blood into the mix; potentially what gave a physical body (that’s why I say Yuuji’s body) to the cursed paintings… Hold on! Does that mean Yuuji and Noritoshi are also blood related? Are Yuuji and Choso the great-uncles of Noritoshi??? 🤯

Then Noritoshi actually opening his eyes to see Choso using Blood Manipulation Technique was funny as hell. He peeled those eyes wide open like I’m sure he’s never done before! Look at him! lol

Kusakabe, the poor man only just starting to connect the dots and realising how seriously fucked up everything (and everyone) is… Very relatable the stages of suffering this man goes through so far…

And Panda’s comment… Jujutsu Kaisen Omega AU trope just unlocked! Muhahaha 😈 Gege is such a damn yaoi fan, it brings joy to my fujo heart. lol

By the way, Yuuji not beating the omega allegations either. Kid shed the uniform not like walking into the battle but onto bed. 😭

Look at him pushing his hair back à la Sukuna style! 😎 (Bro! autocorrect kept changing Sukuna to skunk, and like, ok I get it? but also how about “NO!”? 😬) As for Panda still having two cores… does that mean we’re finally going to see what form his ‘sister’ is? O.O

Now, where the fuck Uraume flew into the scene from still mystifies me but one thing is for sure, it makes absolute sense to be Sukuna’s bestie. Wanting everyone slaughtered sure is the ticket to the King’s heart. haha

Also. Ice powers?! From how Noritoshi reacted it sounded like it’s a pretty rare technique. Wow! This gives such a ‘fresh’ vibe to the character. Not to mention, it somehow makes me believe that Sukuna may not be able to control ice that well — considering he’s got access to jujutsu through his own technique (the box) — as in, I think he’s able to use the five elements (maybe?) but not the different forms of specific techniques… Eh…??? 😵‍💫 Maybe that’s another reason why he kept Uraume around? Because of the rarity of that technique and the kinship of bloodlust was just a bonus? Not too stretched a hypothesis, right? And why are their characters starting to give off Leo—Virgo vibes? Is it just me?!

After Uraume’s entrance to the scene everything kind of got rather out of whack though. The use of Reverse Cursed Technique was the last straw for poor Kusakabe who must be feeling way too out of his waters with everything that’s happening right before his eyes. I mean, who can blame the man?

I’d want to go home, too, Kusakabe-san… 🥺

And then Choso not backing down, not stopping to try to protect the ‘little brother before his eyes’, totally amazing this dude right here. And let me just admit that I actually think this time the fight with Goo-jisan was infinitely more palatable than what I’ve seen this season. I’m just starting to appreciate him (Choso) more every time, even going as far to head on challenge Uraume! He turned and stared right at Uraume as the ice was about to pierce him! Man didn’t even flinch. I didn’t expect to feel so protective towards him, but he’s like a faithful dog that will get between you and danger, he’s so damn adorable! And in the nick of time, Yuuji saving Choso from Uraume… Ughhh~ *biting finger* Agh! Gege! Agh!

Or Uraume’s reaction to Yuuji moving through the ice, potentially hurting himself; “Whose body do you think that is?!” 😡 Um, hate to break this to you, Ura-chan but he thinks it’s his and so far he’s… right. Aha~ 😋

But that was nowhere near as funny as when I was shaking whole when Choso asked Yuuji to call him Onii-chan!!! LMAO Read the atmosphere, Chosooo!!! 🤣🤣🤣

Like… try it! Try it, Yuuji! You’re not getting off the hook this time! Haha

And just when Uraume was about to put everyone in the freezer for the year’s provisions… bam! Miss Yuuki is here to save the day!

I mean… how much more do you need to turn a shounen into a fetish series I don’t know, but you probably don’t need much more than what we already have in our hands here… That slow, upward close-up of Yuuki’s ass reflecting in Yuuji’s eyes was just the perfect example after the MeiMei scene, me thinks… 🫣🫢

Girl, you just got here?!

By the way… where is Yuuta? I’m still waiting for him since season one! 😩

Right… So— long post is long. I just had some time to sit and write a couple things before the last episode airs. I didn’t really managed to stay on top of this every week, even though I’d love to. I even tried to combine the previous two episodes but tumblr is being annoying with the number of pics per post and I also couldn’t finish writing everything I wanted before Episode 22 aired.

Anyway. Let’s see if I’ll have the time to write for the final episode, too since I have some more thoughts I want to talk about… or you know, I may as well do the reviews along a rewatch later on. :P

Thank you for staying with me and my crazy theories till now~ 😊 Do pardon my ‘angry’ rant on the MAPPA working conditions. But it’s a “those who are outside of the dance, know many songs” kind of thing.

✨ I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas Day and wish you Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!!! 🎄 ✨

⛄️

Short excerpt from the previous episodes’ rant that I didn’t get to post on time for those of you wanting context: * Not to mention how I have this strange feeling that Mahito’s ‘soul’ is actually that blue eye. Like… why do I think that, I have no concrete proof or any indication whatsoever but I just think it’d be neat to have his ‘core’ manifested like that. We do say that “the eyes are the mirrors of the soul” after all. Not to mention, out of all the curses so far, Mahito is the only one that bleeds actual blood and not ‘curse juce’ so I thought that; hey, you know what? That’s because there’s actually a part of him that is human. That is very breakable. That even though he’s a curse through and through, being born out of the fear for humans has also given him some very human properties and weaknesses as well. I don’t know… maybe it would be nice for him to have misunderstood his own existence— to give some more depth to his character as a concept. Hm… 🧐

I’m actually going insane thinking this and I have a Head Canon that could be very plausible if Gege hadn’t gotten scared. That damn cyclops cat! Grrr

[atopearth]

Norn9: Var Commons Part 2 - Heishi Otomaru Route

Hmm, I don't really remember Nanami having much of a role in the anime so this should be interesting, especially since I definitely don't remember anything about Heishi. Hahahaha, sorry Heishi, if I didn't play a route in this game yet, I totally would have thought the same thing as Sorata and be like who was this guy again😂 I knew Nanami was terrible at cooking but I didn't think Heishi was a disaster too hahaha. To be fair, it's not necessarily that they're bad at cooking, since technically they didn't even cook lol, all Nanami did was throw random stuff in everything and Heishi forgot to cook the fish but couldn't be bothered lmao. I think it's quite funny that Nanami's description has it that she doesn't talk much but I honestly think she talks quite alot haha. Anyway, Heishi's powers are definitely a favourite even if he can't fully control it, telepathy and feeling other people's emotions are very useful. Oh, how interesting, Heishi just randomly wandered aboard the ship and wasn't actually "called" I guess? From first impression, I'd say that Heishi matches Nanami the most because of how bright he is and how he's always able to make her feel a bit happier because of the person that he is, but I am very curious about her other matches with Akito and Ron. However, Heishi really doesn't know what personal space is huh! The worst thing is you can't even shut him up because he uses telepathy to wake Nanami up in the morning, what a nightmare! I think I would strangle him.

I guess it's understandable for Nanami to not really understand what it means to be feminine and why it's important when she's grown up never having been taught about it. Personally, Mikoto does push the ladylike thing a bit too much so I think Nanami should just do what she likes. Lmao when Masamune went to help out the fight between Senri and Kakeru, and Kakeru ended up growing flowers on Masamune's head😂 Under Heishi's happy-go-lucky personality, it seems that his smiles are also fake in a way in that he feels like he's forced to always be happy because he knows that his emotions can be felt by others so he does his best to suppress anything negative, which must be pretty tough. Lmao at that flashback of Heishi accidentally barging in when Mikoto was changing and he kept blurting out his thoughts about what he saw and how Sakuya was going to kill him through telepathy😂 I like how much Nanami is agonising over how to express her feelings to Heishi in a way that he can understand what she is truly thinking. Words are difficult because even though you know exactly what you mean, the other person isn't you so they don't necessarily process it in the same way, so I like how Nanami finds it so troubling but refuses to give up on trying to convey it. I've been really enjoying how much guidance Itsuki has been giving Nanami, it's very kind.

One thing I've been really enjoying with Norn9 is how all three heroines' romance progresses with their respective partner in the route you're on. It's cute how protective Masamune is over Koharu, and even though I can understand Mikoto thinking Itsuki is annoying, it's actually really cute how she's about to go to sleep and she can't stop thinking about how frustrating he is haha. I never saw how much Itsuki seemed to like Mikoto but seeing him watch over her sadly at times makes me wonder about their relationship. It's quite convenient that instead of Heishi explaining love to Nanami, he could just have her experience the rollercoaster of emotions for her to understand haha. Even though Heishi and Nanami are cute, I don't feel like I see the chemistry enough to think that they match or even that they really like each other. However, I do think Heishi's dream of wanting to have a happy family was cute, it wasn't something I expected Nanami to want though. I guess what's lacking in this route is that I don't feel like I really know Nanami at all and Heishi is still a mystery in terms of his background. Aww that's slack, they finally confessed to each other and now Nanami has to use her power and erase his memories to protect him since Ron and Natsuhiko don't want him to remember that they're here on this ship. Ron is honestly quite cruel to Nanami and he's going to need to do alot to redeem himself in his route lol, I think the worst was when he kept telling Nanami she's all alone and that he'll kill Heishi if she told anyone about him and Natsuhiko. I never really thought about fusing esper powers together, so thinking about how destructive it could be to have Nanami's power fused with Heishi's to mass wipe out people's memories is very interesting. I felt bad for Heishi when Nanami thoroughly rejected him..

Lmao at the hiyoko penguin version. I like the CG with the guys in swimsuits, that was an unexpectedly nice surprise. I definitely liked the second confession during the power outage much more haha, I thought the CG of them putting their hands on the door separating them was sweet. They were blocked by a door but their feelings connected. Gotta love Heishi for knowing how to ruin the mood for saying he'd reject Mikoto even if she threw herself at him naked LMAO. I'm not sure how I feel about the whole escaping the ship thing but I really did enjoy how much of a bro Itsuki was the whole time even when Heishi wasn't the most amicable about it. Interesting to see that Masamune can see people's past. Anyway, even though I'm still not too fond of the pairing, I really like Heishi and Nanami's life of travelling together and taking photos for a job, that's very nice and sweet. However, I think I prefer the sadness of the tragic love ending. I liked how Nanami ended up using her power to erase Heishi's memories of her so he could live happily again without being burdened about the need to protect her because dang he went nuts and abusive. But yeah, I felt really bad for Nanami in that ending. Personally, I think the short story is basically what I enjoyed most about Heishi and Nanami's relationship, where they're both troublemakers, but at the same time, they both try their best to try and make the other happy, and they both just relish spending time together and enjoy the moment.

Overall, I had high hopes for Heishi's route especially since the first half was not bad, but I thought the second half was quite boring especially after the escaping thing. Otherwise, I enjoyed seeing Heishi and Nanami cause trouble for Akito and all the people who try their best to avoid their food lol. I liked how Heishi basically never left Nanami alone so you can say his existence itself helps to mend Nanami's past sadness for being all alone and forced to erase people's memories to sustain her clan. Personally, even though I don't mind Heishi and Nanami individually, I find them rather bland together. They don't click imo haha, I mean, they did on paper but not in this route apparently lol. Even though I enjoyed the scene where Heishi expressed his feelings towards Nanami the second time, I really didn't feel their feelings towards each other. I also think it's because they never really developed as characters for me either. I never really felt like I knew as much about Nanami and Heishi to make me feel like they "came to life" for me, or enough for me to think that I would like to care for them anyway. So yeah, disappointing imo but hopefully Akito will be the better route since he seems to be the poster boy for Nanami.

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,�� the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!