#i am ashamed im sorry bros
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I MADE A PROJECT SEKAI VIVID BAD SQUAD NPC PERSONALITY TEST IF YOU WANNA KNOW WHO YOU'RE MOST LIKE BASED ON A SET OF VERY SPECIFIC 20 QUESTIONS!!!
TAKE IT HERE!!
#ooc post#personality quiz#prsk vbs npc#ken shiraishi#kotaro mita#koutaro mita#soma miyata#souma miyata#arata tono#arata touno#taiga kotaki#nagi kotaki#tatsuya okazaki#doesnt include akidad or toyadad im sorry#vivid bad squad#project sekai test#if youre curious i got soma lol#despite being a kotaro account#i am ashamed im sorry bros
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"Man of the future"
Alan was 20 years old gay guy that turned his passion for video games into a career as a streamer. Every night, he sat in front of his computer, illuminated by the lights of his setup, and connected to play with his thousands of followers enchanted by the fact of having a popular gay and handsome streamer. That night, however, something different happened.
While chatting with his audience and viewing the comments in the chat, he noticed a message that stood out among the others.
@ yourbroski: "Try this game, 'Man of the Future'," said a donation message with a link.
@ yourbroski: "Its my game, i create It"
- You Did!? No way - Alan replied
He clicked the link, opening the Game just for being nice, the title didnt sounded like something that the girly Alan would enjoy.
Within seconds after the click, Alan found himself downloading a game he had never heard of. The title, "Man of the Future," glowed on the screen.
The game was a complicated obstacle course and shooter that quickly engrossed Alan into the digital word.
- Hey, this is indeed fun
But the fun ended quickly. When he died in the game for the first time - Which was pretty fast -, a screen appeared with the saying, "C'mon Bro, you can do better" along with an strange music, almost hipnotazing music.
- Whoa, did you guys see that? - Alan said, leaning back in his chair. - This game is savage! 'C'mon Bro, you can do better'? Challenge accepted! - he answered.
However, the second attempt didn’t go any better. When Alan died again, the message changed to, "Don’t be a noob, Bro."
Alan face reddened with frustration. "Okay, Bro," he muttered under his breath.
- No way am I letting this game call me a noob. Let's do this! - He turned to the chat, determination blazing in his eyes. -You guys with me? This game’s going down, Bros!
Took a sip of His... beer? He didnt remenber being drinking beer, he didnt even remenber enjoying beer but he was so centred on beating that game that kinda ignored It.
- OOOOOUUURRRP - he belched - dang, sorry bros - he said a bit ashamed... Just a bit. He was too centred to being ashamed.
Meanwhile the coments were going crazy.
"Whats happening With all those 'Bro'? Thats off character"
"@ yourbroski: Nothing to be ashamed! Better out than inside my Bro!"
"Are we sure this Is Alan? Lol"
He keep playing moving his fingers as fast as he could, he was doing Better and when he almost reached the wining flag - a flag decorated only With White and black lines - he got killed by another player.
- Son of a bitch! - he yelled - that motherfucker killed me at the very last BRARRRRP - belched - moment!
"Dont be a pussy" The screen said this time, as knowing he was whining.
- No way this game just called me a "pussy"! - he said ofended - Im not, and in gonna show them all - he said while opening his legs in the chair in a more relaxed position, tooking a moment to scracht his balls in front everybody before starting the new round.
In that position everybody could apreciate some strong arms and legs that people didnt knew Alan had abd Alan didnt remenber to have worked on.
"Sexy" a guy comented.
He was gay, but for some reason reading that from a guy, maked him feel angry.
- Dont be a weirdo, dude - he said
He was gay, right..?
Then started playing again, not releasing every time his character died, a part of His persona did too.
Yelling, coursing, chugging beer and burping, acting with a cocky attitude more and more, every round, less nice, less gay, less him, until...
- BROS, I-OARRRRRP -He couldnt contain a burp - I DID IT!
His character was holding that black and White flag.
"Now youre a real alpha" the tv screen said With that strange music still.
"Now youre the Man of the future"
And with that, the remains of Alan were erased, he didnt remenber being a girly gay guy anymore, he always had been an alpha, a straight, gassy, jock that loved playing videogames and humillating the noobs and "queerdos" on the games.
Alan started doing a "celebration dance" that basically was doing hip moviments to show his bulge. Like he were fucking someone.
- This Is for you, @broski - Alan put His microphone close to his ass and ripped a big, loud, smelly fart on It - i beated you - he said proud. Between laughs he added - Nah, GG bro, youre talented, definetly gonna share It with the bros.
"Whats happening with Him?!' someone comented
"@ yourbroski: That flag send the fag away"
Alan didnt even read those coments, he was busy trying to fan away the fart with his hands.
That Night the strange transformartion of the gay gamer Alan was trending everywhere, but before His friend Group had read something, they receive link to a Game from Alan.
"Alan: Best game of the month broskis"
The group of friends made up of gay guys and nice straight guys thought Alan's writing was odd, but without knowing the situation they gave more atention to the link, opening it, ready to play a life-changing game, "The man of the future."
(This is just fetish writing)
#dumber#male tf story#gay to straight#transformacion#straight to gay#fart kink#lib to con#mind control#mind control kink
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Kay. So uh…
Papyrus is here and he is a fucking gem.
Gaster has possessed the child.
The teenager is lovable and huggable and everything in between.
Sans appeared outta nowhere and just woke up and chose violence ig
He watches anime. It’s fucking canon now.
I’m now saying Bruh every other sentence and it cannot be stopped.
Gaster killed his own son. (SANS IS FUCKING DEAD????????? I WAS NOT FUCKING EXPECTING THAT)
I now think Sans would’ve won if he did the hamee kamee thing from dragon ballz or something
Also that means Papyrus is left without an older brother. Think on that for a moment will ya?
I am now a hardcore simp for three whole characters in this comic and I’m not even done with it.
Muffet, Undyne, and goddamn motherfucking stupid ass pole dancing drug inducing Mettaton.
Yeah. The fucking robot.
So yeah that’s how my day’s been how is yours?
I’m reading Epictale now
GUYS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME REBLOG EPICTALE PAGES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU
I’m thinking of making a new blog actually and I will reblog these pages eventually on there but FOR NOW SINCE IM IN THE ZONE I WOULD LIKE TO REBLOG ON HERE PLEASE AND THNAM YOU
#I AM SO SORRY BUT AT THE SAME TIME IM NOT BECAUSE HAVE YOU SEEN EPIC METTATON HES SO FUCKING HOT#BRO IS SEXIER THAN THE SEXIEST MAN ALIVE#LIKE I BET I WOULD SEE A REAL LIFE TALL AS HELL BUFF MAN AND WOULDNT EVEN FLINCH#BUT THEN METTATON WOULD COME STRUTTING ON OVER IN HIS STUPID FUCKING STILETTOS AND I WOULD START DROOLING#I WOULD BE ALL OVER HIS SMEXY ROBO ASS WITHIN MILLISECONDS#AND TRUST ME HE HAS AN ASS#THERE IS LITERALLY A PANEL IN THE COMIC WHERE HE HAS AN ASS#IT CAME UP RIGHT AS I WAS THINKING TO MYSELF “hmmm what a flat fuccin loser”#BOY OH BOY WAS I WRONG AS HELL#OH AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON FUCKING UNDYNE BRO I CANT EVEN BREATHE WHEN I THINK ABT HER#OP WHY DID YOU MAKE ALL UR CHARACTERS SEXY#GODDAMNIT#IM SO SO SORRY I FEEL SO ASHAMED OF MYSELF BUT I HAVE TO ADMIT IT#wordz
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There is no one here.
Warnings: angst? Also this was kinda of a vent fic, I wrote down all my feelings from the past year and turned it into a fic, that's why it's corny.
(Name)/Reader is Yuu/Perfect
"I do everything, and I never get a thank you"
"I've had to take care of every mess, and my only reward is getting a pat on the back or being allowed to even go on trips as the bag carrier".
"When I complain, I just get threatened to be kicked out or reminded that there is no where for me to go. How would that make you feel?"
"I get asked to do thing, but if I don't do them then am the asshole"
"I have no one besides that damn cat to hug. How sad is that. I don't even remember when the last time someone said that they love me or gave me a genuine hug. I miss my family, I miss the people who genuinely cared about me".
"If I died here there wouldn't be anyone to care, my family probably thinks I'm already dead!"
(Name) felt like drowning, they felt like tempered glass that was dropped too hard.
'Burned out' that's the word (Name) wanted to use but who can say? Depression, burned out, anger, agony, it was the same thing in the mixing bowl, but beaten to hard.
(Name) just stared at their phone, waiting for the alarm to just go off so they could start another day, doing everyone's chores, then working a shift at Azul's lounge, then finally doing theirs and Grims homework.
*ting*
Times up. Time to get ready and be there for everyone while no one is there for you.
.....
(Name) could barely hear the arguing between Ace and Grim, then venting coming from Epel, (Name) was too zoned our to notice their food getting colder and colder. But they could feel the hundreds of eyes upon them, it was like a curse.
"(Name) are you-" before Jack could finish his sentence a swarm of needy people came to their table.
"Oohhhh (nammmmee)! Me and Jamil are going to this new restaurant, do you wanna come with?"
"Oi her-"
"Get your dirty paws off them, I was here first, so their attention should be on me".
"Shrimpy!! Can you take my shift tonighttttt?????".
The bickering slowly started fade out, (Name) couldn't focus on anything but clock ticking and their heart beating.
"IM GOING TO THE BATHROOM!" (Name) suddenly ran off.
In the bathroom, (Name) was almost hyperventilating.
'I can't keep doing this' (Name) thought as they splashed water onto their face.
(Name) looked in the mirror, their sunken face, tired eyes, their appearance was laughable.
(Name) felt angry, why are they always the bad guy, why can't they put boundaries? Why are they the one who has to do everything? Why are they the one who has to fix it?
(Name) was slowly seething.
But then their heartbreaks at the thought that no one really cares, can't anyone else see them slowly slipping away? Why won't anyone help them, why can't anyone else see what they are going through?
"Hey, you doing okay bro?"
(Name) turned around facing Duece, "Yeah, I'm fine. You know, stressed".
Deuce gave (name) a look, "are you sure? You look agitated"
(Name) thought about it, this would be a great time to just vent! "Am I? Sorry, I wouldn't know why"
Deuce hummed, "your food was getting cold, thought I would save it"
(Name) grabbed the tray from Deuce, "thanks".
A knock interrupts the two, "oh! (Name)! Perfect timing! I need your assistance!"
(Name) felt their body sink to the floor, "How can I help Crowley?".
Keys jingle, the door opens, "Perfect! I need your help! It's a dire situation! One that will cost Ramshackle!".
(Name) felt themselves age faster.
Crowley explains how he fell into a pyramid scheme, how does this involve (name)? No one knows.
"If you don't help! Who know what could happen! Those overbolts only happen around you!".
(Name) felt their heart-dropped, tears tricked down their face.
Deuce reached out for "(Name)".
"I just feel so ashamed and embarrassed? How was any of that my fault? Like don't they know how traumatizing it was for me to go through all of those damn overbolts? Why do they have the right" (Name) wailed.
Crowley and Deuce could only watch in shock.
"This is all YOUR fault!" (Name) screamed.
"Now listen here perfect! Just because-"
"NO! It is your fault! Why am I to take any of the blame?!".
"What's going on in here?".
A crowd gathered around the bathroom door, hushed voices, judgemental, sympathetic stares.
(Name) felt the stares, eyes staring at them, seething. It was all too much.
The room was spinning; the voices getting louder, more eyes appearing.
It was madness.
(Name) felt their heart race, breathing so fast like they'd run a marathon.
'I've got to get out of here'.
(Name) went to move into the crowded hallway, their steps erratic.
The hushing voices are getting louder.
"Look at them".
"How are they the perfect?"
"Can't do anything right-".
"They don't belong here-".
"Magicless-".
"Abnormal-".
"Waste of space-".
"The school's janitor-".
"Teacher's pet"-.
"Stuck up-".
"WORTHLESS-".
A hand grabs their shoulders, "(Name) are you alright?".
(Name) looks into Malleus's eyes, "no".
Darkness.
☆
(Name) finally opened their eyes.
'It's quiet'.
(Name) looked around and saw "Get Well Soon" cards decorated the room, deflated balloons.
"You're awake".
(Name) saw Crowley sitting in a chair by them, "It's been a couple of weeks you know? Personally I thought you were gone, I mean, a magicless human overbolting? Never happened before. But with you, a lot of things never happened before".
"I'm still... so tired" (Name) silently cried.
"I know. I'm sorry".
Authors note:
No part 2, this was a vent fic that I fixed up and wrote into putting characters from Twisted Wonderland.
Sometimes there is no happy endings.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst malleus#twst crowley#twst deuce#disney twisted wonderland#vent fic
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On the way back from a trip, I watched Wall-E for the first time on the plane. I liveblogged it because i thought it would be great.
It was.
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR WALL-E :D
also I am Not sorry for the typos
also I was using it/its for Wall-E and Eve and then I started using ae/aer for Wall-E and she/her for Eve just fyi
ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS THING
-- -- * -- --
2:20 what happened to my precious wind turbines???? :(
also tf is the song at the beginning
3:00 WALL E??? OMG THEYRE A RADIO BOI
wait this is literally the plot of my original story
LUNCH BOX
cricket :)
4:19 he's made a city out of trash :(
there is a baby crying on my flight :(
WERE ZOOMING
buy large gas???
04:57 wait so Wall-E is a brand of robot that cleans things? what's Eve gonna be im excited
OH MY GOD THE LITTLE CRICKET AND WALL E ARE BESTIES
turbulence on air :D
Wheeeeeeeeeee
05:10 there's a dead wall e :(
05:20 OH MY GOD THERES ABOUT TEN ZILLION DEAD WALL-E'S AA
NOOO
MY BOI :(
05:51 "too much garbage in your face? there's plenty of space out in space!" fuck you don't pollute space that's our space. Maybe not your space actually but it's MY space and don't put your stupid garbage in MY SPACE
07:15 aww fairy lights :D
TAPE :D ITS A RECORD TAPE :D
There's a spork in the lunchbox
why is there a rubix cube in the lunchbox
omg it's confused about whether the spork is a spoon or a fork :(
and it just put it on its own spot
like non-binary people :)
:( it wants someone to hold its hand :( it wants company :(
THE STARS
nope it was smog and the dust on the screen. rip
wtf is blowing up????
the cricket!!!!
09:57 it hibernates :(
and it swings itself to sleep :(
Wall-E needs some sun. go look at the sun, starshine :)
THE WALKING INTO THINGS IS REAL ASF WHY AM I RELATING TO A ROBOT
that's a nasty looking sun
POWER GAINED LETS GOOOO
NOOOOAOWJQJHW CRICEJT MY BELOVED NOOOOO
CRICKWT COME BACK
cricket is alive :DD
omg the bra 😭
it's a collecter :D
ping pong :)
ENGAGEMENT RING?? DAMN
IT JUST THREW AWAY THE RING AND KEPT THE CUSHION BOX 😭
FIRE EXTINGUISHER LMAOOO
PLANT :D :D :D
PLANT IN BOOT :D
CRICJET
wtf is the red light
I don't like that
what is it
what are ALL THE RED KIFHTS
IM SCARED
WALL E NOOOOOO
mans just dug dug dug dig diggity
wtf is that
id be scared too if I were wall e
is that the big ship that was there in the beginning
omg such a great disguise 😭
EVE :D
eve seems very tech advanced
OKG HEAVENLY
WALLES JUST LIKE "ITS ANOTHER CREATUEE :D"
bro all that pollution came down to deposit one robot
walle does not look comfy
FLY MY DARLING
windshield wipers??? in the eyes??? 😭
girlypop is a weapon
what do eves beeps mean???
NO CRICKET NOOOOO
CRICKET YOUVE BEFIRNSSD EVE
NO EVE DONT KKLL WALLE
eve wtf was that
are Wall-E and eve actually human size?? and it's just. idk
rip Wall-E they're going through it
what is eve even doing
also she's got anger management issues
me trying to get close to my moots
eve speaks :)
classified -_-
SHAEKNF NAMES :D :D :D :D
she laughs :D
eve NOOO
cricket??? where's cricket???
walle took you to its secret hideout you better be appreciative
cricker got a granola bar
oh she's ashamed that she broke it :(
BUBBLE WRAP :DDD
rubix cube
TAPE PLS WKRN :DDDD
YAY
EVE CHILL
YES DARLINF
wait no
chill girlypop
its got new eyes :)
walles like. raising their eyebrows
I'm gonna try to use neopronous for walle now because why not
ae/aer
LIGHTER
EVE NO
FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
ae just wants to hold her hand
SHES ASCENDING
nOOOO she stole aer plant NOOOOOO
GIVE AER AER PLANT
GIVE AER AER PLANT
NO AER'S CRYING NOOOO
PEORECTION
electrocution
CHRIST.AS KJGHRS
OMG RHIS IS SO SWEET
WALL-E + EVE 😭 IM GONNA SOB NOOOO
AE JUST WANTS TO HILD HER HAND NOOOOO
EXCEPT SHE DOESNT HAVE HANDS ANYMORE
IM SADDDSD
wait there's a hand
it's just not mutual :(
THE MOONNN
NOOOOO
AE'S PLAYING PONG AGAINST AESELF :((((
8000 VS 0
it's cloudy with a chance of meatballs rn
lighter
NO EVE
DONT RAKE MT DAUGHTER AAAY YOU STIPID SPACESHIP
EVE MO
WALLE
FLY WALLE FLY
PROTECT CRICKET AND FLY
no there are multiple eves
RAKE OFFDFFF
WALLE HANG ON LITTLE ONE
the subtitles are just [Wall-E screaming] 😭
NOOO CRICKET IS ALONE NOW
CRICKET NOOOOO
wait why the fuck did they just destroy so many satellites wtf
oh earth looks NASTY
THAT IS ONE NASTY LOOKIN PLANET
WALLE NO
omg phew
AE FOUND EVE :D
MOON
MURICA 💪
SUN :D
just got all the solar power ever ae did
MILKY WAY :D
OMG CLOUD
it's the huge ass tech plane
axiom
bro how long did that take to fucking build
that thing is bigger than earth tf
gravity :)
EVE NO
Wall-E what are you doing
38:31 they're getting pissed off by Wall-E'S existence :(
39:20 that cleaning bot is PISSED
aww they just realized they can go off the lines :)
mate GET ON TOP OF HER (not in that way) pls just OMG ride the same cart. pls. do not get separated from her pls
those guys are right next to each other wtf
John
A is for Axiom your home I STG IF THIS IS WHAT EDUCATION IS FOR
A is for Apple, your iPads
B is for Best Buy, where you get your iPads
C is for idk. cock
lunch in a cup. I wanna die.
also the uniforms suck ass. those are worse than my elementary school ones.
Men? what's so good about men? why are they advertising men in a makeup place? where are they gonna appease men? on their chairs where they don't look at each other???
"try blue!" yeah you shouldve done that ages ago
actually that's a terrible shade of blue. even red is better than that shade of blue and that red makes me eyes hurt
it's actually a good shade of blue. just not for the jumpsuit things.
"every holo-date I've been on has been a virtual disaster" OMG that's actually such a great pun. writers of this I love this
Hi Mary :)
I do love how friendly the humans are. they're just chillin
also I adore how friendly Wall-E is. if someone got me a Wall-E plushie for my birthday I would marry them
maybe. hypothetically. probably not actually.
a113?
omg all the captains are dead
WAIT WALLE GET BACK TO EVE
OMG extraterrestrial vegetation?? YOU MEAN EARTH??? MOTHERFUKER???
bro he can't read 😭
I'm sad
OMG CAPTAINS GETTING AN EDUCATION LRTS GOOO
don't clean Wall-E ae's precious
WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY WALL-E'S FACE 😭
eve looks so fucking bored
oh that shit fucking exploded
oh no
CHASE SCENE
WHY IS RHWRE AN UMBRELLA BOT 😭
eve is PISSED
she's so exasperated 😭
WHY DID THE CLEANING BOT STEAL HER SHOE
WTF????
WALLENOOOOOOOOO
THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER COMJBG IN CLUTCH YESSSSS
AAWWWWW YHEYRE HUGGING ASHAJAGDKWHNSSBNXS
was that a kiss
omg that was totally a kiss
omg that was adorable
how is there that much fire extinguisher in one can
AE'S got a surprising amount of control with flying
OMG MARY I LOVE TOU
MARY MARY I LOVE YOU
JOHN HI JOHNJI JOHN :D
OMG man and woman touch hands romance is alive
omg captains getting social stuff :D
THEYRE DANICJNG NI THE DIRE EXTINGUISHER
OMG THEYRE SO IN LOVE AWWWWWW
MARY AND JOHN ARE BESTIEE AWWWWWWWWW
They can't go back :(
70:36 "I don't want to survive. I want to live!" SLAY CAPTAIN
72:00 YOU KILL WALLE I FUCKING JILL TOU SQUARE UP AUTO YOU MOTHERFUCKER
NOOOOOOOOOO
NOOO THEYRE IN TRASH NO
NO wtf happened to Captain
NO SHE JUST GOT REPROGRAMMDD NO
wait did she? no she didn't thank God
omg it's giant Wall-E
ew
okay cleaning robot you've redeemed yourself ily
NO THEH KILLED THE TAPE
NOT THE TAPE NOOO
M-O
Mo ily
WHYD U THROW AWAY THE PLANT EVE
KEEP THE PLANT MAN
COME ON
YES ESCAPE DARLING ESCAPE YES EVE Y SO MUCH EVE YOUR THE BEST
OMG all the rogue robots are going together <33
REBEL CAPTAIN
NOOOOO NOT THE ONE BOT
wait where the hell are they getting oxygen if they don't have any plants
"John get ready to have some kids" Mary I love tou
Captain you can walk you can do it :D
YIPPEE
wait when the fuck did they learn how to walk
WALLE NO DONT DIE NOOOO
THEY ZOOMING
CALTAIN IS HAVING A FREAT TINE MAN
OMG THE FALAZY
CRICKET MY BELOVED:D :D :D
THEYRE HOMEEEEE
WALLES TRUCK NO
is there even any oxygen on Earth
when did theyearn to walk
eve pls just put aer In sun pls
OMG EVE YOURE THE BEST
UR FIXING AER
AHES FIXTING AER LET'S GO
PLS
PLS SOLAR PIWER PLS
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSDDSSSSSSSSSSSS
CRICKET
YOPPEE
WALLE EVE YES AJEKAUAKAHQKHAKAHAKABANSNAKLAPQHEMSVDNSBABSBBZKSJAKSSKKAAALAKBDNSBSJAKALAKSNABANAKAK
NO
SIES AE NOT DECLGNIZE HER
WALLE NO
WALLE :(
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
AE LOST AER SOUL NOOOOO
NOIOOOOO
YES ELECTROCUTION
ELECTRIOCUTION
YES YES YES YES UES YES
KISS YES YES YES YES YES YES GES HES EHS GES
YES YES YESBBSJQNHDKAKAHDJSJAKDGWKJASNLAAJD
HANDS TES
AE'S FONNA SAY HER NAME
YES WVWNEHAJUAMJAKQQG FEW QKWyajlqshdnbdkavfvfa
EVE
WALLE YOURE ALUVE ILY SMHQJABSLQHSKAHQLAJAVD
CRICKET MO
BEAUTIFUTILN BUR
OMG I LIVE IT
OMG CAPTAIN I LIVE YUU I KIVE THIS I LOCE THIS I LOVE THIS I KIVE THIS TO LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I KCIE THIS ISJWIAKDBSMAALA
OH MY FOD RHEY RESTORUED EARTH HOLY DUFKJNG SHUT
RHERE ARE LKANTS HOLT SHIT THERES A SRAR AND ITS EVE KMF IM SOBBING XRHINF WKQKWJQOWMSEFJWHWHLDHWLQHDKZJALSBDKDNAKSJHDKSNSNSN
SHIP
OMG ITS OVER 😭 EGIWWJKSSHKQHSKWJQJAJWJQAJ
DIRT
OH MT GOD OH MT FOS OH MY DKS
EVE VUILDS A WELL???? OMG THE THLING BOT MAKES SEEDS DHAJSHSKSHKAQKQHALSHAKBSKAVAKAHWKQHKSWGKQBSNSABHZJANAISHAKQBQIWIDHAMALDHSNHWOWHSNFND XNSNALAKBLQKAHSJSNA x
fish come back alive???? thetles
#wall e#wall-e#walle#rambles#rambling#liveblogging#I LIVEBLOGGED WALL-E YALL#it was a great movie#So good#10/10#actually 11/10#might have to watch again and I don't watch movies so that is High Praise#idk how else to tag#ENJOY
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woah two posts in one day??? anyway thats mot thw reason im positng im posting bwcuz i never rlly had a foreign kids au thing, but now ive been thinking abt them aged up in middle/high school au (everythinf in camp camp happened btw thia is just the aftermath) so im just gonna yap abt ot knoeing no one will read this
sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes this is literally just a concept plan and like jm super dupper tired becuz i finally fixed my sleeping schedule becuz school started😁😁 which means no more 3 am posts woohoo!! and km wrting this on phone which i hate.💔
anyway the plan for the atory would be like. starting off with the foreign kids?? i dont rlly have an antagonist asides from brian(kimchi.) and ainsley so ig they qould b the ones causing the chaos (villian revenge ainsley au woohoo!!!)and like.i have a strong feeling that the trio would change their identities to protect themselves. (not toooo drastically. mainly just like. names off by one letter like 'Deng' and 'Hwang' and like.... vera but the E or A is replaced by a different vowel idk.....)
i think it would start off with brian bejng betrayed by like. kentucky government idk bro this show is so goofy. and he eventually stumbles upon ainsley somehow (dont ask i didnt put much thought knto this) and they both end up relating to each other and teaming up to take down the foreign kids!!!! (ainsley doesnt know theres more involved with vera, so she automatically hates them too now, but her main goal is to like. ruin vera first)
so they both plan how to like. track them down and atuff idk turn them in since theyre wanted by thai, north korean, russian and american government ig too.... (i need to rewatch camp camp dawg😿)
i dont actually have a plot yet i jist thought this would be a funny idea. also all background characters WILL make an appearance (maybe excluding cj or whatever the new camp counciloes name is. i dont like him)
i would write a fic about this but.... have you seen my last post i mistook THREE WORDA FOR DIFFERENT ONES. i already edited it hut im truly ashamed of myself. AND IM IN HONORS LANGUAGE ARTS DAWG THIS IS HUMILIATKNG.😿
#camp camp#vera#vera camp camp#vera cc#dang#dang camp camp#cc dang#hwan#hwan camp camp#hwan cc#ainsley camp camp#ainsley cc#brian camp camp#brian cc#ya this is all i can thjnk of at the moment. anywya im gonna sleep now so goodnight
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Hi so basically im the anon and since ur just as starved for miraxus as i am, here i go- like, how about a fanfic where mirajane falls first and confesses but laxus doesnt think they can be more than friends, what he doesnt realise is that he has loved her all along. Its when Mirajane decides to move on then he feels bad and eventually comes to conclusion that he loves her and they need to get together :D
So u mean basic ass teen!miraxus fic with mira feeling fuckin' OBSESSED and laxus like 'damn, puppy, good for you, tho, but naah...' and then she's like 'ok he rejected me so i need to stop annoying him ok im gonna do it for him i like annoying him but i don't like ANNOYING him ykwim!!' and then laxus is kinda '...the fuck is that little shit going?... NO ONE'S GONNA STEAL MY HEADPHONES NOW? MIRA-'
Actually, i love it so much. Like. Really. AND!! I HAVE SOMETHING ABT IT.
Teen!Mira: *annoys the shit out of teen!Laxus*
Teen!Laxus: *plays cool but still cold, grumbles, rolls his eyes*
Teen!Mira: *finally confesses love because she can’t stand it anymore*
Teen!Laxus: I'm... Ah... I'm sorry, I can't. You're a child.
Teen!Mira: *backs up to not bother him with her emotions, sincerely doesn’t wanna put pressure on him, kinda ashamed*
Teen!Laxus, when for the third day in a row no one touches him, pokes him, irritates him or plays on his nerves and steals his headphones for *her* pretty similar but still shitty music just because: ???
Teen!Laxus: the fuck
Teen!Laxus: WHERE YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!
Teen!Mira: *literally causing no problems* wh-
Teen!Laxus: *silently grabs her and sits her next to him, puts headphones on her*
Teen!Mira: *blushing & squeaking* EXCUSE ME?
Teen!Laxus: will not. You're stuck with me.
Teen!Mira: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY ME TO SI-
Teen!Laxus: says who?
Teen!Mira: *embarrassed & kinda happy & giving up sounds* you're an asshole, Dreyar.
Teen!Laxus: good to know.
Btw, he's not just greedy, he actually panicked cuz she's his favourite kid among allll the children of The Guild, she's the one matching his crazy energy. No one else can do that, everyone's just too clingy but with that also too dumb (hi, Natsu) or too strict (hi, Erza) or even too nice (he likes Lisanna, Lisanna is good, she's like baby sister, but still), and, except teen!Mirajane, no one's literally as aggressive and explosive as he is, no one understands his music, his lifestyle, his decisions even. Even then, he felt safe with her, cuz he known he will be understood, cus most of the time they have almost same thoughts. So he's.. He's happy with that brat around. He's okay with her. She's okay. He doesn't feel any romantic feelings abt her, she's 13yo, c'mon, but he can enjoy her presence, she's chill but emotional, she's rude but loyal, she's annoying but interesting, she's acting stupid but she's really smart, she plays independent but she LOVES hugging. He can tell she'll be a damn good person. And strong. She is strong. He still wants to protect her (even if he's not showing it, he wants to protect all of them, but her especially), but he can see how much power she actually possess. That's even cooler. One day maybe they can spar. Why not?
Teen!Mira: *looks at him, sitting next to him, headphones on, frowning* 'fuck are you looking at?
Teen!Laxus, instantly frowning in response: you have a problem, demon?
Teen!Mira: *explodes* WHO THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL A DEMON?!
Teen!miraxus: *aggressive 'fight'*
Greedy jealousy teen!Laxus supremasy who's like 🙄🙄 ah that stupid little shit with her stupid music but also HEY she's MY stupid little shit, DONTCHA DARE GO AWAY. Adult!Laxus is not like that, BUT THE TEENAGE MAXIMALIST LAXUS? GOD, YES. He's not aggressive, he won't start a fight just like that, but DAMN bro's really fuckin' greedy.
#fairy tail#laxus dreyar#laxus x mirajane#mirajane strauss#miraxus#fairy tail laxus#fairy tail mirajane#mirajane x laxus#ft miraxus#ft laxus
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godly troubles galore!
Dysfunctional Fam™
sunboi: ok so artemis is mad at me
Can u help
seaking: nah bro
Ur on ur own
messenger pigeon: oooh why she maaaad???
sunboi: i may or may not have teased her abt orion
drunk_on_LOOOOVE: boi u made a massive mistake
Messenger pigeon: apollo are you DUMB?????
How could you do something like this????
sunboi: ok i didnt outright say it
BUT
I kinda accidentally implied it
Or i said something that mad her think abt him
messenger pigeon: it makes it only slightly less bad
seaking: but wait why are u texting HERE??????????
WHERE ARTEMIS CAN SEE?????
Artemis Agrotera: i can see it, poseidon.
apollo.
You will pay.
warwarwar: run
sunboi > Artemis Agrotera
sunboi: artie
listen im really sorry ok :(
Pls stop ignoring me
Artemis Agrotera: we will talk about this in person, apollo.
Artemis Agrotera liked sunboi’s message
sunboi: yay! Forgiven!
Dysfunctional Fam™
warwarwar: hey guys
U might wanna panic
lightninman: wHAT
WHy
warwarwar: so um
@king_of_DEATH you might wanna take this one
king_of_DEATH: ares!
Why
Do i have to
goddess of spring: pls sweetie
king_of_DEATH: fine
so souls are being reborn for no reason
like they didnt sign up for it
They havent drank from the river lethe
they havent even signed the form!!!!
The only reason we know abt this is cause we caught a soul
lightninman: HADES
WHAT THE HADES
Oh that was a bit redundant
BUT STILL
W H A T
king_of_DEATH: idk what happened ok!!!!
Im as confused as u are!!!!
lightninman: this calls for…..
FAMILY MEETING!!!!!!
IN THE GROUPCHAT CUZ I CANT BE BOTHERED TO GO TO THE PANTHEON RN!!!! @everyone
messenger pigeon: bro really just said ‘cuz’
drunk_on_LOOOOVE: lmao screenshotted
Artemis Agrotera: Father, what’s the matter?
lightninman: ARTEMIS MY SECOND FAVORITE
sunboi: yowch i thought i was the second fave
lightninman: SHUT UP
SCROLL UP
ALL OF YOU
Athena Parthenos: This is a concerning matter, Father.
This should be discussed in the pantheon
I do not care if you’re busy being unfaithful to Hera.
We are doing this now, in the pantheon.
sunboi: wow athena rly being the boss of dad huh
lightninman: …fine
machines <3: what just happened
sunboi: WHAT ZEUS LISTENED!?!?!?!?!?
WOW
Artemis Agrotera: Apollo
Shut up please and thank you
Hestia Baseleia: I agree with Artemis.
Sorry, nephew.
sunboi: THE B E T R A Y A L
i’m leaving for the pantheon
Bye
Artemis Agrotera: wimp
hiii so ive decided to make saturday art day and sunday writing day so thats a thing now
ANYHOW ive somehow managed to not watch s4 and s5 of mlb and i am ashamed because ive been surviving off of recaps of the episodes so thats fun :/
#greek mythology#fanfiction#fanfic#greek gods#apollo#writing#literature#yay#help#artemis#hades#persephone#greek pantheon#dionysus#greek goddess#zeus#hera#poseidon#hephaestus#orion#ancient greek
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bro i thought it was really obvious that dream and quackity worked together on the mod?? i am seriously so confused, they work together constantly, they are very good friends, why wouldn't it be assumed that they were coordinating?
granted, we have no way of Actually knowing, none of us are dream or quackity. i thought that at most, people would just be a little sassy about the fact that dream made his announcement a bit too close to the release of qsmp, i did NOT expect this.
ranboo is getting death threats?? so is dream?? why???? im so confused as to why people would do that. i am so ashamed of my own community! this (death threats) isn't normal!!
sorry for the rant, but this time, this "drama" is just so dumb and it does not need to be happening.
I couldn't have said it better myself anonnie
#asks#discourse#also people who compare this to last year?? why??? what am I missing???#this is plain stupid like is anyone even surprised people feel like they escaped a death trap when they leave this fandom?
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HI PLEASE TELL US ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE AND LEAST FAVORITE RWBY SHIPS THANK YOU VERY MUCH -wackyglackys
ohhhh this is hard. some of my opinions on rwby ships are #problematic but like. idc rosegarden - 9/10 if ozpin wasnt there it would be a 10/10. i just really think its cute. also the children forced into the war when theyre waaay too young? angst potential rich farmers - i dont have a ranking for this one but like. i think its interesting lol cloqwork orange - i read a fic (my own worst enemy by elektricangel on ao3 go check it out) and holyyyy shit. its roman/ozpin/qrow. i am literally frothing at the mouth thinking abt it arkos - angst <3 hummingbird - i am a qrow is rubys dad truther. also i like goth x prep fair game - holyyyy shit. this one is also angst but its ALSO so good nuts and dolts - i think i just like angst ships rosebird - they explored each others bodies
now onto the ships i dont like. i am not ashamed of my tastes in ships. im not including the weird ones like an adult x child or incest bc. yk. that is common sense
bumbleby - its overrated and it sucks im sorry. i just cant imagine a world where its cool gelato - they are SIBLINGS your honor. also roman was an adult when neo was still in school if i remember roman holiday correctly. its honestly kinda weird literally any neo ship i think - in my heart shes aro <3 silent knight - STOP SHIPPING HER WITH JAUNE white knight - STOP SHIPPING HER WITH JAUNE white rose - its SO bland bro why do people ship it lancaster - they arent romantic they are close friends why does everyone see two close friends and ship them dude
#i have more thoughts i just cant think about them#ambrose answers#as you can tell i have some favorite characters#shout out to my favorite characters getting killed fr#thanks for the ask!
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I truly loved every second of this story. I got so invested that I kept forgetting to actually write my thoughts as I went so there are gaps with what I commented on oops. But personally, I think that's just a great sign of how wonderful this story is to have me so absorbed in it!
I was absolutely cheesing like a fool at the end, I very well may have to re-read this fic in the future.
Thank you for writing such a brilliant story and sharing it with us all! 💗
When I was reading I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherant comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]
~
" Soonyoung pouts his lips. " two lines in and reader is already a stronger person than i will ever be. the moment that man pouts i am gone. he can have whatever the fuck he wants from me if he pouts i am weak and not ashamed to admit it
" He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on) " oh my i m already wheezing, i love this
" “You are not selling your body for a test!” " okay i was wrong before, now i am wheezing omg i have literal tears in my eyes from how hard that made me laugh
" It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. " knew i'm not the only one endlessly weak to that tiger cub on two legs
" “That’s not the original book?” " i snorted omg soonyoung you precious little idiot
" “Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks. " kinky little fuck. im into it
i suddenly realised that i got too involved in the story to remember to write anything down but reader getting all secretly sulky about seokmin distrubing them is very cute
" only three dicks carved into it " sorry but this was so abrupt that it entirely threw me off, in a more comical way than anything lol
" the duck statue " I am now imagining a grand stone statue of a rubber duck sitting atop a water feature and i like this. i know that's not what you mean but that's where my mind went and i shall keep the image
" standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand " bro, i'd wanna scream too if i turned and saw topless soonyoung
" No one should be this incredible and hot. " so true, how unfair of him. i want 12. i'm kidding, i could barely handle one soonyoung but man, i'd try my best
" “The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” " damn, does he use that line to get people to take dick pics for him too? "while you're here and it's ready wink wink" kinda deal
" He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. " my poor lil cub, he deserves all the hugs and head pats, precious lil babie
" “You like studying for the LSAT that much?” " oblivious is the keyword here, kids
The frat bros all coming to support reader at the diner tho, i am so fucking endeared i love them
" “Maybe just the two of us next time?” " SCREECHING OUR BABY IS ALL GROWN UP MAKING BIG MOVES TO PRETTY BOYS YES YOU BE CONFIDENT!
" “I take it back. You are an idiot,” " man, i was cheering for you and now it's on sight for being mean to him
Jihoon beating reader with the pillow was pretty cathartic for me, ngl
" At the very least you need to apologize to him. " YES YOU DO!
" Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. " made me giggle, i can so easily imagine him doing that
" “I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.” " i am SCREECHING. IT'S HAPPENING FELLAS!
What? Like It’s Hard?
gn reader x soonyoung
summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.
Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.
genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract
warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????
full wc: 24.3k
playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)
a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)
a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......
“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.
“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.
“I won’t do it,” you say.
Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet.
“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.
“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach.
“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.
“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”
“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?”
“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.”
As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.
“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.
“I’ll pay you!”
“With what money?”
Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.
“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor.
“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”
“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”
“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”
“What did you think I meant?”
You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”
“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”
“Why do you need me?”
“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.
“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.
“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”
“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”
“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”
Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.
“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.
“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious.
You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?”
“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”
“That’s the one with the zombies?”
“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”
“That’s not the original book?”
“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”
“Oh,” Soonyoung says.
“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”
“How many movies are there?”
“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’
“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”
“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”
“He’s the friend from your history class?”
“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”
“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”
“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”
Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.
“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”
You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”
“I thought you already took it?”
“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”
Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”
“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”
“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.
You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.
You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”
Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.
“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for.
.
.
Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?”
“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.”
“Wasn’t there a third section?”
“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs.
“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face.
“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.”
Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment.
“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.”
“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.”
Soonyoung glances up. “How come?”
You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.”
He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two.
“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits.
“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone.
“That soon?”
You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.”
“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks.
“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.”
“Is November cutting it too close?”
“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.”
“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.”
“You’re that confident?”
“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.”
You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “
“November 18th.”
“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.”
Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.”
“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.”
“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.”
“You can’t just buy your own game?”
“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.”
He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.”
“To?”
“The Christmas party.”
You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say.
“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.”
You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.
And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything.
“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say.
He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down.
“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table.
You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones.
“Walk me through your process,” you say.
“Okay, I start with…”
.
.
“Soonyoung, are you even listening?”
He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?”
You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power.
“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.”
“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip.
He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?”
You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning.
He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing.
Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground.
Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?”
“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.”
“But–”
“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.”
He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark.
The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled.
It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese.
Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather.
“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers.
“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns.
“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?”
“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.”
Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.”
“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you.
“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section.
It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.
“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem.
“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!”
“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows.
“Well I did learn from the best!”
“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring.
“What?”
He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.”
You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words.
“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook.
“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.”
Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.”
“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up.
“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support.
“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says.
“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun.
“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.”
Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.”
“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.”
Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung.
“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin.
“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say.
“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.”
You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance.
You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart.
And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long.
.
.
You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark.
A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in.
“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test.
You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time.
The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms.
You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer.
BATTERY LOW
The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment.
A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most.
In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid.
The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart.
Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow.
“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you.
He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?”
You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish.
“What are you doing here?” He asks.
“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.”
He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks.
You done? He mouths.
Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take.
“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet.
Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is.
“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going?
“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.”
He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?”
“You have a car?”
“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up.
The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck.
“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue.
Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?”
“It has a name?”
“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.”
“And the frat name is Larry?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.”
“And you call it a duck, too?”
“It looks like a duck.”
You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions).
“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style.
“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him.
“Hey Josh,” he says.
Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.”
“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying.
“Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?”
“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says.
“So, yes?”
Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression.
“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer.
“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.”
“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.”
Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?”
You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.”
He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe.
.
.
The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off.
Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves.
Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide.
You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it.
“So, you do this often?” You ask.
“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua.
Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.”
You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac.
“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes.
“You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer.
“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him.
“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet.
“It feels better like this,” he says.
“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out.
Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.”
You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side.
Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh.
“Good?” He asks.
“I love it.”
You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower.
“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says.
“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it.
You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand.
“What are you doing?” You choke out.
“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.”
“And you need to take off your shirt for that?”
“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks.
Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot.
“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie.
Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?”
“Where’s your phone?”
“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again.
You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents.
“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.”
“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose.
“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.”
“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue.
“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”
Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering.
You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad.
“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car.
“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in.
You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.”
You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place.
“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes.
Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.”
“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little.
“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk.
“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?”
“Not until nine.”
“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down.
“Soonyoung?”
He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something.
“Thank you.”
“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.”
His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to?
You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake.
“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice.
You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you.
“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you.
Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.”
You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung.
There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better.
But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen.
So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one.
“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close.
You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung.
The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway.
“Are you seriously just getting back now?”
Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.”
Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?”
“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?”
Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?”
“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him.
“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says.
“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move.
You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him.
“It’s morning,” Jihoon says.
“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!”
You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.”
“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment.
“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room.
“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?”
You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed.
You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself.
It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures.
.
.
The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat.
All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste.
You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”
You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again.
“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?”
“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.”
Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.”
“That seems pretty on brand,” you say.
“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.”
“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.”
“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.”
“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth.
“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say.
Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.”
You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words.
“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside.
“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny.
“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.”
You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it.
“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”
“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say.
“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.”
“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms.
“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes.
“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.”
“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.”
“Don’t you live in a frat house?”
“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too.
“You’re drunk,” you say.
Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.”
You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet.
“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?”
“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.”
“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him.
It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots.
You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open.
Then Soonyoung walked in.
He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you.
Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know.
“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.”
“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm.
“You don’t have any idea?”
He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.”
“You are smart.”
“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.”
“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.”
He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.”
You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.”
“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand.
When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear.
You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex.
“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out.
You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him.
“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again.
“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.
You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it.
Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes.
“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop.
You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?”
Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”
You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is.
.
.
You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them.
“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand.
“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes.
“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.”
He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life.
“Is it B?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!”
“Pick an answer.”
He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says.
You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod.
“I knew it! Trust your gut!”
“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”
If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him.
“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly.
You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes.
The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek.
“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.”
He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!”
He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels.
“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.”
You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book.
“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!”
You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter.
“You like it that much?”
“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.”
“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not?
You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift.
“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you.
The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes.
“How did you get it back?”
“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.”
“On what?”
Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers.
You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you.
“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right.
“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?”
He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends.
“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.”
You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.”
“I’m a frat bro,” he says.
“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs.
He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members.
So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?”
Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else.
“Your test is tomorrow,” you say.
“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil.
You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier.
“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer.
“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades.
Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?
Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you.
.
.
You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?”
Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.”
Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour.
“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart.
You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.
“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.”
“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie.
“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers.
You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose.
“Ready to go?”
“How did you get out of bed this early?”
“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.”
“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving.
“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”
Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door.
Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I should be asleep.”
Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future.
“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”
“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain.
“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%.
He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile.
Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.
“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music.
“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it.
Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.”
“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt.
“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror.
“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?”
“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.”
“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything.
The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader.
You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen.
The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu.
“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop.
“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?”
“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.
You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.”
“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.”
The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”
Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you.
“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth.
“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says.
“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.”
“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says.
“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.”
You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?”
Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.”
“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?”
“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks.
“Am I wrong?”
“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?”
“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.”
“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack.
“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?”
Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset.
“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are.
Just what has Soonyoung said about you?
“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out.
“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today?
You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?”
“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.”
You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.”
“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes.
Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek.
“Because of the bet?”
Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.”
Coward.
“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?”
Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.”
“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say.
“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says.
“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.”
Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.”
You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.”
“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man.
“I’ll think about making an appearance.”
“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?”
You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.”
He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?”
The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.”
“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed.
“How long now?” You shout out.
“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower.
“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway.
“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it.
“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose.
Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that.
You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time.
He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung.
Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer.
“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out.
“Ten!”
“Nine!”
“Eight!”
“Seven!”
“Six!”
“Five!”
“Four!”
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you.
169.
“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you.
“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side.
The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet.
Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage.
“Hey Soonyoung?”
“Hm?”
You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?”
He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.”
.
.
You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date.
You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea.
It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried.
It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message.
The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung.
Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity.
“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other.
“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth.
“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says.
“We were supposed to–”
“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.”
You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you.
Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday.
You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you.
“Are you seriously drunk right now?”
Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch.
You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare.
“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?”
He shakes his head.
“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder.
“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.”
He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers.
“What the hell?” Soonyoung says.
“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied.
“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?”
“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.”
You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.”
“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart.
Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this.
“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.
“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him.
“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe.
.
.
Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it.
Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date.
You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him.
Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again.
You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you.
You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was.
“Are you done hiding?”
“I’m not hiding,” you mutter.
He folds his arms.
“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.”
“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head.
“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels?
“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch?
He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head.
“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you.
“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?”
He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.”
“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again.
“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself.
“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–”
You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it.
You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor.
“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight.
“I knew what you meant without the pillow.”
“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–”
“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.”
Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”
“I know,” you say.
“Then why are you still on the floor?”
Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him.
“What if he hates me?”
Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”
“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.”
You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready.
“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?”
“Hell no.”
.
.
What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you.
Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last.
“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.”
You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’
You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down.
You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober.
.
.
Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love.
You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop.
You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone.
Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly.
“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble.
Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?”
You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you.
With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself.
“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you.
He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion.
Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek.
“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say.
“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats.
You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form.
“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer.
“I already do.”
.
.
The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face.
“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know.
You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this.
“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say.
“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.”
“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung.
The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head.
“Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head.
“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.”
You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this.
“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment.
You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse.
So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream.
Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills.
“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds).
“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else.
“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter.
“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing.
“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.”
“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?”
Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered.
“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.”
“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep.
“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on.
“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift.
“You have driven this car before, right?”
“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty.
Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat.
“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”
“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.”
You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too.
So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes.
“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning.
The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out.
The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly.
“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you.
“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again.
“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better.
“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.”
“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”
You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.”
Soonyoung beams. “Really?”
You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words.
You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?”
“Better than drunk in my own bed.”
“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face.
Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!”
“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!”
“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours.
“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting.
“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours.
“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.”
The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart.
I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on.
“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?”
You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his.
Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker.
“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—”
“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?”
“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.”
“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there.
The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?”
“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.”
You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?”
“Are we not good?”
You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now.
“We are beyond good.”
.
.
“Are you crying?” You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink.
“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime.
Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.”
“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat.
“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last.
The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours.
“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks.
“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?”
“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh.
“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think.
“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist.
“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.
The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you?
“I love you,” you whisper.
Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…”
“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.”
Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.”
Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by.
You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.
“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head.
“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing.
“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter.
“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon.
“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug.
You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’”
“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions.
“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.”
“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him.
“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.”
“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says.
“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up.
“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.”
“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says.
“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say.
Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling.
“What?”
“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says.
“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?”
“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more.
“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice.
“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!”
“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him.
“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.”
Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.”
“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.”
Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.”
You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?”
“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks.
You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush.
“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.”
“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says.
You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.”
#k-fic collection review#chee chats about; What? Like It’s Hard? by starsstuddedsky#svt rec#seventeen x reader#svt reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fluff#soonyoung x reader#hoshi x reader#hoshi fluff#soonyoung fluff#hoshi angst#soonyoung angst
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I am gonna ask every single content creator I follow bc I am desperate. I have read at some point an au with a creator reader with the harbingers all over her making sure she is not getting bored and entertaining her and the tsaritsa being too ashamed to show her face after kidnapping the creator. I dont remember who made it, how long has it been since I read it or the name. If anybody knows, please help, I have been loonking for it for iver 2 weeks now😭(All I know is that its on tumblr
bro im sorry i have no idea i barely read fics on here anymore
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im so ashamed actually!!!!!!!!!!! so terribly ashamed i feel like the most disgusting person in the world, cuz thats how intense my brain works it thinks like. oh have yr friends ever called furries weird or implied they thought furries were weird? that means they think you are weird which means they basically want nothing to do with you you should kill yourself NOW!!!!!! i said damn bitch!!!!!! god forbid a man be passionate about. things.
it really is just cuz it has nothing to do with them i think thats one of the core reasons, its completely unrelated and i dont think theyd be interested so... do not RISK IT. maybe im selfish, i just.. i cant stand the thought of something i do being unappealing to them, i cant stand the thought of them looking away. any little thing could be a huge thing!!!! could be the worst thing ever actually could be the end of all things could ruin this
do i think being a furry is going to ruin my relationships? realistically, no. why would it? ive ALWAYS been a furry artist, so.. why am i so scared? sorry if you have to see this its very VERY embarrassing but LORD i am not winning the mental illness rn dear god
its like my head constantly makes hurdles for itself, but like. FOR OTHER PEOPLE. like okay.. they dont hate you cuz yr trans, cool cool... they dont hate you cuz yr have bpd, surprisingly!!!! alright. they dont hate you cuz yr fat, right.. but heres this NEW thing, they SURELY will hate you cuz you draw anthros like you are FUCKED say goodbye to everything dipshit. erm........... whats it gonna be next? theyll hate yr taste in fictional men, thatll do it!!! theyll hate yr music taste, theyll hate you for yr mental illness (not that one, the other one. they were fine with that one but THIS one theyll hate you for surely)
it pisses me off too, i KNOW my friends are good people. i dont seriously THINK that of them, i dont think theyre vicious and waiting to toss me away at any turn but... im still scared of it. i said it before, im scared ill be the one to bring that out of them like im somehow SO terrible ill make the best people ive ever met turn on me like that. FOR DRAWING FURRIES? are you actually stupid (yes)
i cant blame myself too much im. doing the best i can im unmedicated untherapied im . IM DOING PRETTY GOOD for someone whos been carrying several weird ailments and still just chugging along, i manage my symptoms when i can i do my best!!! but fighting yr own brain is FUCKING HARD... why is bro sabotaging me? why is it making me impulsive and scared like that? stupid quit it!!!! i got furries to draw i MISS IT SO MUCH I MISS MY GUYS. IM JUST... im a coward!!!!! i cant ever be like. well so what, who cares what they think? ME BITCH I CARE WHAT THEY THINK.. i hear everything they say, i remember all the things they say they like and dont like, and i internalize it subconsciously. they think this is weird and they personally dont like it? alright well you dont have much of an opinion on it OR you do actually like it so thats BAD we need to cut that shit immediately you will feel SHAME for something harmless cuz you think itll make them keep you longer
dont you get tired of it? YEAH i get real fuckin tired of it. so many times ive tried to like.. force myself back into what i love but as embarrassing as it is to admit, in my head their opinion on things is greater than my own. i struggle with putting people on a pedestal and ive actually been doing REALLY WELL with that like no they are my equals they are my best friends i love them i give them kiss but. The Horrors 💀 like i said it all comes out of fear, fear of being rejected and left to DIE ALONE IN THE COLD. do i think thatll ever happen? no!!! but do i fear it? absolutely. its less of like 'i see you as better than me' and more of 'im afraid to disappoint you and make you leave' which i feel like is pretty standard for someone like me
WHATEVERRR i should stop being such a litle bitch about it, ill try. i just hate feeling like everything i do is a test, i hate feeling so unsure about myself, if i move too fast itll shatter. it wont!!!! relax 🙄
#this is long im just#it helps me to talk this out with myself#im alright im just VOICING SOME#BRAIN ISSUES#as one does
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PLSDJJIDS I WAS THE OPPOSITE like i didnt wanna pay money but also like i had to have it to reach my fullest potential 👹👹👺
yes exactly i burnt out big time OTL cheers to being *less* mentally ill in the near future ^3^
that's totally understandable,, from the way i see it a majority of the asian population that goes by undiagnosed is v large,, and i'm not basing this off of any actual studies though i know there are some out there- but rather just the role culture (at least in most east asian cultures is as far as i'm qualified to speak for lol) plays in mental health makes diagnosis and treatment,, idk and just going by undiagnosed makes me sad that there are ppl who think this is the norm and that it's something you are expected to get over bc it's something "everyone goes thru" :( i very much relate on the front of gaslighting urself/being gaslit into thinking u just can't handle struggles that "everyone else manages to manage well" n that rlly sucks im sorry beb </3
DAMN LOL we r on the same boat on the same river 🥲 my little tiny snowball also started out w family problems and oh my god my mental health has come out of its hiding >o< i remember my counselor describing it as an unvented pressure cooker lmao
don't answer if you don't wanna, but do you still feel that way in the sense of repressing ur emotions? like refusing to acknowledge it ? i think i was like that for a small period of time but now im like the complete opposite which is like half miserable half not lmfaoo i will forever be the biggest advocate for anyone getting therapy even if u think u don't need it,,, but!! i also know its a big step and may not be accessible for some :<
no yeah cus i feel so gross and overwhelmed and like not in control of things and so ill start spiraling if i dont get up and take a shower ^_^
not throwing pity confetti in your face, just as someone who can relate at least in some ways, big kudos to u for having so much patience to put up w everything bc it must b very hard not to lose ur marbles all the time,,,, standing w u solider 🫡
OH TRUE I FORGOT AB THAT UGH BARF i remember ig always fucked up my video quality saur bad even after rendering n shit T_T
aaa goodluck bae<3 hehe yeah i always rlly want to after seeing so many pretty edits jdksdkf i might i might we shall see :>
STOPITNFSISD I WISH I COULD INSERT A REACTION PIC BC UR RIZZ GAME I HAVE NO WORDS HAHSDJJJ
mental health is such a fuck up like it's like a ticking bomb the way it can go off at any point of life and the urge to ghost everyone, im so ashamed fr
yeah like most of asian countries i feel like. in our culture mental health is seen as something that is seen interjected with "adulting" like when you grow up you're supposed to feel like this and it's your duty to like make peace with it and if you try to seek help for it your family members kinda take it like a failure like you couldnt even deal with this? there's just a whole lot of stigma surrounding it and on top of that, therapy not being that widely available in south asia is a huge problem.
bro pressure cooker, im glad to know you're actually very up front with your feelings now. it's always better than bottling them up, at least you don't feel like a stranger to yourself either, my issues make me feel like an imposter within myself like it's hard to distinguish between things that I feel like I'm making up and the other things that's fucking me up.
YOU ARE SO NICE I AM WITH YOU TOO MY SOLDIER ILY!!!!
lmao ngl I was like those scenario and concept editors right I would have continued to edit bc my edits were like THSIE most beautiful scenes in kpop mvs but I stopped bc the resolution was ASSS THAT TOO WHITE ASSS!!!!!
OMG i wonder how i rizzed u up 😩😩😩😩
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Anyone want to play good skin/bad skin with me?
Yeah i didnt think so, that game fucking sucks and i was over this whole scene of making you figure it out yourself years ago, like from the jump. Im usually very supportive of doing research but all im going to find out about these guys is a) theyre nazis or b) they adopt the posture of nazis for reasons that are only relevant within the hardcore scene, with a total sense of callousness or adversariality regarding everyone who despises the aestheticization of fascist reactionaryism in and of itself. Like, the hautiness of it, if theyre pulling option b. The self-absorbed, myopically racist and phobic hautiness of it.
I have spent nearly 10 years carefully studying my plausibly crypto hardcoreboy friend, who i met because he lived in a vegan feminist house (mostly terfs it turned out, tho) i went to a party at
And its inconclusive what the fuck he meant in his 20s by all the casual racism and the swastika on his album cover, because that stuff actually all had plausible denials loaded--ALL of it, almost suspiciously so like its a game called youre just paranoid--and because he is fanatically liberal in his personal life (altho of course, he hates the liberal party and neoliberalism in general...which tells me he's either fash or hardleft, its a horseshoe thing with hating justin trudeau and the global capitalism agenda),,,, as far as he will share with me privately or the internet publicly. Ive been to a number of parties where he invited virtually all the guests and he conspicuously tried for diveristy, although his inner circle was all lame white people. (So is mine at the moment but thats because im too ashamed of my psychosis to have kept in touch with any of my other friends; its just really hard for people being around a white person who wont shut up about nazis when thats all you hear from everyone who wont hang out with white people, it gets awkward because you cant really say much because it could be a trap like theyre an undercover cop or something.) Sometimes his grapevine delivers him a highkey crypto conspiracy theory and then he wants to get takes on it because it "somehow" seems implausible or dubiously verified. When his neighbors annoy him he plays his tyler the creator vinyl real loud. He bought tickets for pet shop boys and new order when they played toronto. I am constantly scanning every interaction for tells, to this day; its like the green flag/red flag bateman meme but the tabulations are reversed.
I only have room in my life for ONE hardcore bro puzzlebox, sorry to all the oi bands and skinheads bobbling around like jackasses but i will never see you live and you will never get my money
Just one, sure, but how'd you pick?
Fluke. I didnt know who he was until after i had already asked him out (we got along at the party we met at so i asked him out, i never met someone else who knew that kinks song waterloo sunset, before), and then i had a stake in figuring out how much of a nazi he was because he knew i was nonbinary/queer and hooked up with me anyway instead of trying to kill me or debate me. Then after i was like "yknow what fuck it, i hate this game, youre a nazi" he flew across canada several times to check on me because he could tell i was going off the rails and isolating myself from people. He is the ONLY friend i have left who showed concern, most of them just got mad and stopped talking to me when i psychotically accused them of being abusers. My ex gf checked on me a lot during those years but she's not really my friend anymore (cant stand me now, too mundane)
I refuse to tell him my current address because i dont want him to know where i live because i am still paranoid that he has proud boy friends in bc who he can just call up and convince to burn my house down etc if i become too much of a liability or like if he finally does too many drugs and snaps and decides im causing progressivism as a whole by myself using magic
And the hardcore bros KNOW this is what people who truly hate nazis go through with them, and they dont give a fuck because they think theyre on a higher plane of enlightenment by virtue of a hyperfixation on a niche subculture's 40 year history of repeated infiltrations by nazis
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got drunk in attempt to assuage Emotions and ended up accidentally unfollowing beloved mutuals
#ILY I DDINT MEAN TO#likeeee#why is tumblr on my laptop so much harder 2 navigate then the app smh#went on an unfollow spree n such and like… im just dumb bro#so if u saw me unfollow only to quickly refollow… im#sorry and i am Deeply Ashamed#:/#delete l8r
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