#i cackled at the stupid details

[aleneagain]

Comic for the fic Plasticity by @mixelation

[helioooss]

my favourite ex

synopsis: when minjeong dumped you over a year ago, nobody thought that you’d still be chasing after her: your favourite ex.

w/c: roughly 9.5k+

warnings: swearing, making out. winter’s a bit of an ass. law terminology when i actually know nothing about it and university as a whole (this hurt my fucking brain cause i went to uni for a week then dropped out). some angst here and there. (is it even a helios fanfic without a tinge of angst???)

a/n: merry christmas again - first detailed make out scene, lmao :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the class was buzzing when you rolled in, skateboard strapped to your back, oversized “i love my ex” shirt proudly displayed for the world — or rather, for one person in particular, to see. you could feel the weight of the stares, the judgmental whispers blending with poorly concealed laughter, but it didn’t bother you.

at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“mate, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” ryujin said the moment she spotted you, her eyebrows shooting up so high they practically disappeared into her hairline. she nudged yeji, who turned around from her seat and immediately burst into laughter.

“you’re actually wearing that?” yeji cackled, pointing at your shirt as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious what it said. “y/n, come on. you’ve got to stop giving her free real estate in your head.”

“she’s not in my head,” you argued, dropping your bag on the floor with a thud. “she’s in my heart.”

“jesus christ,” ryujin groaned, burying her face in her hands like she couldn’t bear to look at you anymore. “you’re so down bad it’s embarrassing, just gets worse everyday.”

beomgyu leaned back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear as he tilted his head to study your shirt. “honestly, respect. this level of delusion? it’s kind of iconic.”

“thanks gyu,” you plopped down on the seat next to him with a smile.

“no, i mean it,” he said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “like, who does this? who actually wears an ‘i love my ex’ shirt to a class they share with their ex?”

“me,” you said, grinning to yourself. “because i’m not a coward.”

yeji snorted. “no, you’re just stupid.”

you ignored her, your eyes flickering to the other side of the room. there she was, in all her glory: kim minjeong, your ex-girlfriend, sitting with her clique like a queen holding court. yizhuo was whispering something to her, and whatever it was made her smirk — the type that used to make your knees weak.

that felt like a lifetime ago.

she looked flawless, of course. she always did. her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling perfectly into place and she was dressed like she’d walked straight out of a magazine; simple yet effortlessly elegant.

even the way she was sitting, legs crossed and her arm draped casually over the back of her chair, made it impossible to look away.

you weren’t the only one staring. everyone in the room was drawn to her in some way, whether they wanted to admit it or not.

she was one of the richest girls at yonsei, part of the infamous clique of untouchables: minjeong, jimin, yizhuo and aeri. together, they were a force of nature, the kind of people who ruled the social hierarchy without even trying.

and yet, once upon a time, minjeong had been yours. your gaze lingered on her, memories flooding in uninvited. the late-night study sessions where she’d tutored you in the basics of tort law, her patience wearing thin every time you made a dumb joke to avoid answering a question.

the rare moments when her cold exterior would crack and she’d laugh; a soft, genuine sound that made your chest ache with something you didn’t understand back then.

the way she used to look at you, like you were the most infuriating person in the world but also someone she couldn’t quite let go of.

“don’t even think about it,” yeji warned, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “do not embarrass yourself any further, y/n.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from the love of your life.

“you’re literally about to get up and try to sit with her,” she deadpanned.

“i was not!” you protested, even though the thought had definitely crossed your mind.

“oh, for sure you were,” ryujin whined, rolling her eyes. “you’re like a moth to a flame. except the flame is your rich, hot ex who dumped you in the middle of the busiest hallway on campus. remember that?”

as if you could forget.

the image was burned into your brain — the way she’d stood there, her voice calm and detached as she said: “i’m bored of you, y/n.”

the flood of emotions when people had stopped to watch, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. the way your chest had caved in, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

but you’d smiled through it. laughed, even. told her it was fine, that you understood. because you did. you understood minjeong better than anyone else, knew that her coldness was just a shield she used to keep people at arm’s length.

she’d come around eventually, you were sure of it. you just had to wait.

“oh my god, you’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” yeji groaned. “y/n, move on. she’s not worth it.”

“she’s absolutely worth it,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“no, she’s not,” ryujin said firmly. “she’s cold, distant, and —”

“hot,” beomgyu interjected.

“— and way out of your league,” ryujin finished, ignoring him.

“i don’t care,” you muttered, glancing back at minjeong. she caught your eye for a brief moment, her expression unreadable, before she turned away.

your chest ached.

god, you missed her so much it hurt.

“you’re hopeless,” yeji muttered, shaking her head.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair as professor cho walked in and started the lecture. you tried to focus, really, you did, but every time you glanced in minjeong’s direction, you were reminded of everything you’d lost — and everything you were still desperately hoping to get back.

the class was dead silent, except for professor cho’s monotone voice droning on about the intricacies of criminal law. your head was propped up on your hand, and you let out a long, slow yawn that you didn’t even bother to stifle.

unfortunately, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“miss l/n,” she snapped, her voice sharp and disapproving. “if my lecture is so boring, perhaps you’d like to teach the class yourself?”

you blinked, caught off guard. “i wasn’t saying it was boring.”

“no, you were implying it,” she shot back, folding her arms. “do you have anything to add to the discussion, or are you content to waste everyone’s time?”

the entire room was watching now and you could feel the weight of their eyes on you. you glanced at minjeong, who was sitting with her arms crossed. she didn’t even bother to look at you.

one thing you hated was the judgment, the way your chest tightened uncomfortably under the pressure.

“i didn’t mean to waste anyone’s time,” you defended, trying to keep your voice steady. “i just yawned. it’s not a crime.”

“it’s disrespectful,” she retorted. “and given your current academic performance, i’d suggest you take this class more seriously.”

that hit a nerve. “oh, so now we’re making it personal?” you asked, your voice rising.

“y/n,” ryujin hissed from the corner of the room, but you ignored her.

“you know what?” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “i don’t need this. i don’t need to sit here and listen to someone power trip on their authority.”

“then leave,” she finished coldly. “and don’t come back until you’re ready to behave like an adult.”

“gladly,” you muttered, storming out of the room.

once you were outside, you fumbled with your bag until you found your pack of cigarettes. your hands were trembling as you lit one, the first drag filling your lungs and easing the knot in your chest. you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes as the nicotine worked its magic.

but even with the cigarette in hand, your thoughts drifted back to her. minjeong. her stupid smile, the way her eyes used to soften when she thought no one was looking. you thought about the way she’d laughed at your terrible jokes during those late-night study sessions, her walls crumbling just enough to let you in.

and then you thought about the way she’d torn it all apart. how she’d stood there in the middle of that hallway, looking at you like you were nothing and said she was bored.

the memory made your stomach churn. you felt sick, anxious, like you were coming apart at the seams.

“you’ve got to let her go,” you mumbled to yourself, flicking ash onto the ground. “she’s not coming back.”

the words felt hollow. you’d been telling yourself the same thing for months, and yet here you were — still wearing an “i love my ex” shirt like a complete idiot, still hoping she’d see you and change her mind.

you finished your cigarette, hanging around campus before heading to your administrative law class, your mood dark and heavy. when you walked in, yeji waved you over, patting the seat next to her. you slumped into the chair without a word, ignoring her concerned look.

“you alright?” she asked quietly.

“fine,” you mumbled.

out of curiosity, you glanced over your shoulder and immediately regretted it. minjeong was already sitting a row behind you with aeri, her face calm and composed as always. she didn’t even glance your way, but you could feel her presence like a weight pressing down on your chest.

yeji leaned over, her voice low. “okay, but seriously, what’s up with the shirt? you’re not helping yourself.”

you shrugged. “thought it’d be funny.”

“it’s not,” she said bluntly. “it’s sad.”

you didn’t have the energy to argue. instead, you focused on the desk in front of you, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the surface. you hadn’t even realised you were trembling until yeji put a hand on your arm.

“hey,” she said softly. “are you okay?”

“i’m failing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “failing everything. maybe i should just drop out. leave this place and start over somewhere else.”

she frowned. “don’t say that.”

“why not?” you asked, meeting her eyes. “what’s the point? i’m not cut out for this. i’m just wasting everyone’s time — professors, my parents, even yours.”

“that’s not true,” she said firmly. “you’re not wasting my time and you’re definitely not a waste.”

you didn’t respond, staring down at your trembling hands.

“listen,” she continued, her tone softer. “i know it’s a lot. but dropping out isn’t the answer. you just need to take a step back, breathe and figure out what you want.”

“i don’t even know what i want anymore,” you admitted.

from behind you, you felt a pair of eyes on you. minjeong’s. though you didn’t dare turn around, you could feel her frown, her sharp gaze lingering on your hands.

“just…think about it,” she added, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “you’ve gotten this far.”

by some miracle — or maybe out of sheer spite, you managed to pull yourself together for the rest of the lecture. instead of zoning out or whispering to yeji, you actually listened. surprisingly, the material clicked this time.

professor diaz, as sharp as ever, began throwing out questions to the class and to everyone’s surprise — including your own — you knew the answers.

“miss l/n,” he called, clearly sceptical after he heard of your earlier outburst. “procedural fairness — tell me, what are its main components?”

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at yeji, who gave you a small, encouraging nod. “uh, well, the two main components are the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

the professor raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to be correct. “and? tell us more about it.”

“the right to a fair hearing means that anyone affected by a decision should have an opportunity to present their case,” you answered, hesitation still audible in your voice. “the latter will ensure that decision-makers remain impartial and free from any conflicts of interest.”

he paused, then gave a small nod of approval. “not bad, miss l/n. maybe there’s some hope for you after all.”

you felt a flicker of pride at his words, though it was quickly replaced by embarrassment as yeji smirked and whispered, “look at you, being a functional member of society.”

after class ended, you gathered your things and followed her out, ignoring the glances from your classmates. as the two of you walked toward your usual hangout spot, you spotted ryujin and beomgyu already waiting on the stairs that led down to the fountain.

the fountain, of course, was near the gazebo where minjeong and her clique always sat — and judged.

“finally!” ryujin called out as you and yeji approached. “thought you two got lost or something.”

“y/n was busy impressing the professor,” yeji teased, nudging you. “she actually answered questions. correctly, even.”

“whoa,” beomgyu said, putting a hand to his chest like he was in shock. “is this the same y/n we know, or did someone replace her?”

“ha ha,” you said dryly, dropping your bag on the stairs. “you’re hilarious.”

“she’s just trying to make up for the shirt,” ryujin said, nodding toward your chest.

beomgyu squinted at the bold i love my ex print and groaned. “oh, for the love of — y/n, take it off.”

“you take it off,” you shot back, smirking.

“don’t tempt me,” he said, rummaging through his bag. after a moment, he pulled out a plain white t-shirt and tossed it at you. “here; you put this on before you embarrass yourself any further.”

you stared at the shirt for a moment, then sighed. “fine,” you pulled it over your head without argument, covering up the text that seemed to offend everyone.

“there,” he nodded in approval. “now you look like a normal human being.”

meanwhile, at the gazebo, minjeong had been watching the entire exchange. she frowned when she saw you cover up the shirt, though she didn’t know why it bothered her.

aeri, however, noticed immediately.

“jealous much?” aeri teased, smirking as she leaned back against the gazebo railing. “what, you miss being the one she’s obsessed with?”

“don’t be ridiculous,” minjeong’s tone was cool and dismissive. “i don’t care what she wears.”

“sure you don’t,” yizhuo chimed in, grinning. “you’ve been staring at her for the past five minutes.”

she rolled her eyes, pretending to focus on her phone. “you’re imagining things.”

“uh-huh,” aeri said, exchanging a knowing look with yizhuo.

she ignored them, though her eyes flickered back to you just in time to see you grab your skateboard. you and beomgyu were at it again, attempting flips and tricks on the stairs while yeji and ryujin sat nearby, shaking their heads.

“she’s going to hurt herself,” minjeong muttered, though no one seemed to hear her.

and then, as if on cue, it happened. you misjudged your footing on a landing, and the skateboard flew out from under you. you went down hard, hitting the edge of the stairs with a sickening thud.

“shit,” ryujin said, scrambling to her feet as yeji gasped.

from where she sat, minjeong’s heart skipped a beat. before she realised what she was doing, she was already standing up, her eyes locked on your crumpled form at the bottom of the stairs.

“relax,” jimin mumbled, crossing her arms. “your ex can handle it. and dumped her, remember? don’t act like you care now.”

but she didn’t respond. she couldn’t take her eyes off you, her mind racing with worry even as she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t her problem anymore.

“jesus christ, y/n,” beomgyu muttered as he crouched down beside you, pulling his bag off his back and rummaging through it with the urgency of a paramedic. “you’ve really outdone yourself this time. does it hurt? of course it hurts. what a stupid question.”

“it’s fine,” you said through gritted teeth, clutching your ribs as you tried to sit up. the sharp sting that shot through your side made you wince and you slumped back down against the cold stone of the stairs.

“yeah, fine. sure,” he said sarcastically. “you only fell from, what, three metres? you’re totally fine.”

“shut up, gyu,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“oh, don’t worry,” he said, pulling a freezing cold gatorade bottle out of his bag. “i’m about to help you,” without any warning, he pressed the icy bottle directly against your ribs.

you let out a shriek, the pain sharp and immediate. “what the fuck, beomgyu?!”

“what?” he asked innocently, holding the bottle in place. “it’s cold therapy. helps with the swelling.”

“it’s called torture!” you yelled, trying to shove his hand away.

“stop being dramatic,” he said, but he moved the bottle, finally giving you a moment to breathe.

ryujin crouched next to you, her hands on her hips as she stared at you like a disappointed parent. “you’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“it wasn’t that bad of a fall,” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“you’ve got to stop pulling stunts like this,” she said, shaking her head. “your bones can only take so much abuse before they just give up.”

“and then what?” yeji interjected, crossing her arms as she stared down at you. “you’ll end up in the hospital and we’ll have to explain to the doctors that you’re failing uni because you spend all your time skating and crying over your ex.”

at the mention of her, your stomach twisted. “don’t bring her into this,” you muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, we’re bringing her into this,” yeji said, crouching down to your level. “because, let’s be honest, half the reason you’re acting like an idiot lately is because of minjeong.”

“shut up,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

“she’s right, though,” ryujin added, her tone softer this time. “you’ve been in your head about her since the breakup. it’s messing you up.”

“it’s not about her,” you lied, though the lump in your throat betrayed you. you hated that they were right. hated that even now, with pain radiating through your ribs, your thoughts still drifted to her.

you hated minjeong. or at least, you wanted to. you hated the way she made everything look so easy and you hated the way she walked around like she owned the world, like nothing and no one could touch her.

most of all, you hated the way she looked at you. because even now, even after everything, you swore there was something in her eyes that told you she still cared.

and that, more than anything, made you feel sick.

“y/n?” ryujin’s voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. she was staring at you, her brow furrowed in concern. “are you crying?”

“what? no,” you said quickly, wiping at your face. but the tears were there, hot and unwelcome.

“you are,” yeji pointed, her tone softening. “y/n, what’s wrong? is it your ribs?”

“no,” you said, shaking your head. “it’s…it’s just —” your voice cracked, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “stupid fucking bitch, why does she have to look so pretty all the time?”

“who?” beomgyu asked, confused.

“minjeong,” yeji said quietly, her expression softening. “she’s talking about minjeong.”

of course you were. even now, when you should have been focusing on your physical pain, she was the only thing on your mind.

“alright, don’t fucking piss me off,” ryujin groaned abruptly, standing up and brushing off her jeans. “we’re skipping the rest of the day.”

“what?” yeji asked, glancing between you and ryujin. “you serious?”

“dead serious,” ryujin answered. “we’re taking her to joe’s juice joint, and we’re drinking her heart out until she forgets minjeong ever existed.”

“now that’s a plan,” beomgyu said, grinning. “i’m in.”

“guys, i’m fine,” you protested weakly, but ryujin wasn’t having it.

“nope,” she said, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet. “you’re coming, no arguments. consider this an intervention.”

reluctantly, you let them guide you down the stairs. every step sent a fresh wave of pain through your ribs but you gritted your teeth and kept moving. anything was better than sitting around and wallowing in self-pity.

as you passed by the gazebo, you didn’t spare minjeong or her clique a single glance. but you could feel her eyes on you, heavy and unrelenting, like she was trying to read your mind from across the courtyard.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice rang out from the gazebo, loud and teasing. “anything broken?”

“just my ego,” you mumbled without looking up.

she cackled, clearly delighted. “you skipping class again? what is this, the third time this week?”

“fourth,” ryujin told her with a smirk. “and yeah, we’re heading to joe’s. you want to join us after your class?”

the girl raised an eyebrow, glancing at minjeong, whose frown deepened. “tempting,” she said, still grinning. “might just take you up on that.”

“we’ll be there all night,” ryujin winked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from the weight of your ex-girlfriend’s gaze.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first day, it was easy for minjeong to ignore your absence. people skipped class all the time; it wasn’t a big deal. you were probably out skating somewhere or doing something equally idiotic and irresponsible.

she really told herself she didn’t care. she spent the lecture dutifully taking notes, her pen gliding smoothly across the page, her expression calm and collected.

yet as the minutes dragged on, she caught herself glancing at the door more often than she wanted to admit. no loud entrance, no skateboard clattering against the floor, no offhand comment that made half the class groan and the other half laugh. the room felt…off.

too quiet.

“focus,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. this was good. peace and quiet was good.

but the uneasy feeling lingered.

the second day was harder.

she arrived to class early as always, settling into her usual seat. she pulled out her notebook and began skimming through her notes, but her focus wavered. every time the door opened, her eyes flickered up instinctively, only to be met with someone else’s face.

not a sight of you.

again?

she hated how much it bothered her. hated the little knot forming in her stomach, the way her pen hovered idly in her hand as she stared at the empty seat you usually occupied. it wasn’t like she cared.

“you alright?” aeri asked during lunch, raising an eyebrow as she leaned across the table. “you’re kind of…off today.”

“i’m fine,” minjeong said curtly, stabbing at her salad with her fork.

“you don’t look fine,” jimin pressed, clearly amused. “what’s got you all grumpy?”

“nothing,” she replied, her tone sharp enough to make them smirk.

“is it because of y/n?” jimin asked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “you’ve been weird since she stopped showing up.”

“i haven’t been weird,” she snapped, glaring at her.

“you totally have,” yizhuo pointed out, leaning back in her chair. “you’ve been frowning nonstop for two days. it’s honestly kind of funny.”

“maybe you should just ask her friends where she is,” jimin suggested casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “wouldn’t it put your mind at ease?”

“i don’t care where she is,” minjeong said rather quickly, her voice colder than she intended. “it’s none of my business.”

“sure it’s not,” aeri chuckled, exchanging a knowing look with jimin and yizhuo.

she didn’t dignify them with a response. instead, she stood abruptly, grabbing her bag and walking away. she hated how transparent she was, hated that her friends could see right through her.

but as much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care, the nagging unease wouldn’t go away. your absence felt like a puzzle piece out of place and she hated unsolved puzzles.

the fountain steps were as loud and chaotic as ever when minjeong approached, her unease simmering just beneath her calm exterior. she spotted your friends easily — beomgyu, ryujin and yeji sitting in their usual spot, laughing about something as he gestured wildly with his hands.

she hesitated for a moment, her pride warring with her curiosity. then, with a deep breath, she walked up to them, her expression carefully neutral.

the first to notice her was beomgyu, who immediately froze mid-gesture. “uh…” he blinked, clearly caught off guard. “can we help you?”

“where’s y/n?” she asked, cutting straight to the point. her tone was as cold as ever, but her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

ryujin raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with yeji. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she replied quickly, though the words felt hollow. “i just noticed she wasn’t in class. that’s all.”

“you noticed,” beomgyu said, leaning back with a grin. “interesting.”

“just answer the question,” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

ryujin sighed dramatically, leaning forward with a smirk. “well, since you’re so curious…she fainted at joe’s the other day, y’know, when she fell down these stairs.”

minjeong’s calm facade cracked. her eyes widened slightly, her grip tightening on her bag. “she fainted?”

“yeah,” ryujin said, her tone casual but her eyes glinting with amusement. “we were all hanging out, having a good time and then boom — she just collapsed.”

her stomach twisted. “collapsed?” her voice was quieter now, less sharp. “what?”

“yep,” yeji added, nodding solemnly. “we had to take her to the hospital. turns out she fractured a rib when she fell on the stairs.”

the words hit your ex-girlfriend like a punch to the gut. fractured a rib? the image of your fall replayed in her mind, but this time it felt sharper, more vivid. she could still hear the sickening thud of your body hitting the stairs, see the way you’d clutched your side in pain.

and now, knowing you hadn’t just brushed it off, that it was serious enough to land you in hospital, made minjeong’s chest ache in a way she didn’t like.

“so, there you go,” ryujin yawned, tilting her head. “your curiosity satisfied?”

she didn’t respond, choosing to turn on her heel and walk away — her mind racing. she told herself it didn’t matter.

you didn’t matter.

she stared blankly at her phone, her thumb idly scrolling through an endless feed of nothing. the sounds of her friends chatting around her faded into the background and she leaned back against the bench, her thoughts pulling her under.

she didn’t know why she broke up with you that day. no matter how many times she replayed the memory in her head, it never made sense. one moment, you were telling her some absurdly funny story about your boss — a ridiculous tale about how he had a deep-rooted fear of olives and couldn’t even look at a martini without panicking.

she remembered laughing at that, really laughed and it felt easy, like it always did with you. you’d grinned at her, bright and carefree; the kind of smile that felt like it was meant just for her.

and then, almost without thinking, she’d said it.

“i’m bored of you.”

the words had tumbled out of her mouth, cold and sharp, before she even realised what she was doing. she remembered the way your expression had faltered for the briefest of moments, like a flicker of a flame before it was snuffed out.

and then, as if to spite her, you’d smiled. laughed, even.

“cool. no worries,” you’d replied, your tone light and easy, like she hadn’t just ripped the ground out from under you.

but she saw the way your shoulders stiffened as you turned and walked away and for the first time, she had felt the weight of what she’d done.

she’d tried to convince herself it was the right choice. your relationship had been getting…too real.

a year was a long time, longer than she ever thought she’d spend with anyone. and with every passing day, you’d peeled back more and more of her walls, learning things about her that she didn’t even know she wanted to share.

it terrified her how easily you read her, how you’d figured her out like you were studying a map of her soul.

she hated it. hated that you could tell what kind of mood she was in just by the way she tapped her pen during lectures. hated that you knew her coffee order by heart, down to the extra splash of milk she only liked on rainy days. hated that you always noticed when she was struggling, even when she didn’t say a word.

she hated that she’d started to depend on you — because if you knew her so well, if you’d gotten that close, then it meant you had the power to hurt her in a way no one else ever had.

and minjeong didn’t know if she could handle that.

so, she’d broken things off. not gently, not in private, but in the loudest, cruelest way possible. if she made you hate her, if she pushed you far enough away, then maybe she could protect herself.

except you didn’t hate her.

you didn’t yell at her, or cry, or make a scene. you just…kept smiling. kept acting like it didn’t bother you, like you understood her better than she understood herself. and then, to her frustration, you started chasing her. showing up to class wearing ridiculous shirts, making jokes loud enough for her to hear and skating around like you didn’t have a care in the world.

it drove her insane.

it wasn’t fair. she’d ended things because she needed distance, needed to feel in control again, and here you were, acting like you could still get under her skin whenever you wanted.

she clenched her jaw, staring down at her phone. the image of you sitting in the hospital, clutching your ribs and pretending it didn’t hurt, flashed in her mind.

you were so stubborn, so reckless, and it infuriated her that she still cared.

“you okay?” yizhuo’s voice cut through her thoughts, and minjeong looked up, realising she’d been silent for too long.

“fine,” she muttered, but the word felt hollow.

“you don’t look fine,” aeri teased, leaning closer. “what’s got you so worked up? your ex again?”

minjeong’s jaw tightened. she hated how easily her friends could read her, hated that she was so transparent. “no,” she answered sharply.

“uh-huh,” jimin said, smirking. “sure it’s not.”

she ignored them, turning her focus inward again. you needed to stop chasing her, stop showing up with that stupid grin that made her chest ache in ways she didn’t want to think about.

maybe if she made it clear that she’d moved on, you’d finally back off. you were proud, after all — too proud to stick around if you thought she was interested in someone else.

an idea formed in her mind, one she didn’t entirely like but couldn’t shake.

maybe i should be seen with someone else in front of her.

if you saw her laughing with someone else, leaning in close, maybe even touching their arm, you’d get the message.

she exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment. it would hurt you — she knew that.

but wasn’t that the point? if hurting you meant protecting herself, wasn’t it worth it?

minjeong opened her eyes, her decision made. she’ll stop. she has to.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you were already regretting coming in. every step you took through the halls felt heavier, slower, like the whispers around you were dragging you down. usually, the energy on campus buzzed with something familiar — greetings, smiles and nods of acknowledgment as people called out your name.

today, however, there was a sudden shift. people were staring, their hushed voices following you like shadows.

you weren’t used to this. the stares weren’t friendly; they were curious, cautious, like you were some sort of sideshow spectacle.

your mind raced with questions as the weight of their gazes pressed on you: what the fuck have i done now?

“you should’ve stayed home,” ryujin muttered from beside you, her arms crossed and her pace slowing to match yours. “seriously, what are you even doing here?”

“i have to try,” you mumbled, not meeting her gaze. the ache in your ribs flared with every step, but you forced yourself to keep walking. “if i don’t, i’ll have to repeat. and that’s more embarrassing than walking around like this.”

she sighed, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

you didn’t respond, you couldn’t. the pain was bad enough, but the whispers and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach made it worse. you tried to focus on getting to class, on anything but the way people seemed to glance at you and then quickly look away.

when you finally reached the lecture hall of your evidence class, yeji was waiting near the entrance, her arms crossed. the moment she saw you, she walked up and grabbed your wrist. “come on.”

“what —” you started, but yeji was already pulling you toward the front of the room, far from your usual spot in the back.

“why are we sitting here?” you frowned, glancing back at ryujin, who followed silently, her expression unreadable.

“just trust me,” yeji mumbled, her tone firm as she steered you into a seat in the front row. “you’ll thank me later.”

heaving out a sigh, you didn’t argue. your ribs throbbed as you sank into the chair and you focused on pulling out your notebook and pen, determined to make it through the lecture. you began to scribble notes as it began, your mind too foggy with pain to think about anything else.

direct. circumstantial. hearsay.

until your pen slipped out of your fingers and clattered to the floor behind you.

groaning in pain, you turned slowly, twisting just enough to grab it. when you looked up, the sight in the back of the room hit you harder than the fall that fractured your rib.

minjeong was sitting next to sungchan. not just sitting — close. too close. her body angled toward him, her arm resting on the desk between them, the space so small it might as well not have fucking existed. his stupid smile stretched across his face as he leaned toward her, saying something that made her chuckle softly.

the only thing rooted in place was disbelief as your breath caught in your throat. your fingers froze around the pen. it wasn’t just that they were sitting together; it was the way they looked. comfortable. familiar. like this wasn’t the first time.

what the fuck?

ryujin noticed the change in your expression immediately. “y/n?” she whispered, nudging your arm gently. “hey, you good?”

but you weren’t good. you were anything but good. the pain in your ribs was nothing compared to the ache that spread through your chest like wildfire.

your gaze flickered back to the front, but it was too late. the damage was done. the rest of the lecture passed in a haze, your pen barely moving across the page. you couldn’t focus, all you could see was minjeong and sungchan, sitting together like they belonged there, like she hadn’t asked about you just days ago.

so this is what she wanted, you thought bitterly, your jaw clenched so tight it ached.

some time alone so sungchan could sweep her off her feet?

you thought she cared. you really thought that despite her cold front towards you, that there was still something there, but apparently, you’d been wrong.

she didn’t even glance your way. not once. she stayed glued to him the entire lecture, her quiet laughter ringing faintly in your ears like a cruel reminder.

when the class ended, you packed your things in silence, your hands trembling slightly as you stuffed your notebook into your bag. you didn’t say a word to ryujin or yeji as you walked out, the hollow ache in your chest growing with every step.

she doesn’t care, you told yourself. she never did.

the thought didn’t stop the sting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the walk to your next class was excruciatingly quiet. too quiet. beomgyu was by your side, matching your pace as the two of you moved through the crowded hallway, but he didn’t say much.

for once, the usual chatter and easy jokes he always carried with him were absent, lips pressed into a thin line, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie — like he was trying to make himself invisible.

he’d noticed, of course. he always did. you’d seen minjeong and sungchan together in the last lecture and it had sucked the life out of you. he’d seen the way your expression had darkened, the fire in your eyes replaced with something duller; something he didn’t like.

you were a ticking time bomb. and he was scared.

“you okay?” he asked finally, his voice hesitant.

you nodded, your eyes focused on the floor ahead of you. “fine.”

he didn’t believe you, not for a second, but he didn’t push. instead, he tried to fill the silence with small talk, his usual coping mechanism.

“so,” he said, forcing a grin. “how’s the rib? still feel like your entire torso’s on fire, or is it more of a dull, stabbing pain now?”

normally, you’d have some kind of snarky remark for him, a sarcastic jab or a playful insult. but now, you just shrugged, your shoulders heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

beomgyu fell silent. it was rare for him to feel uncomfortable, but something about this version of you — quiet, almost lifeless, set him on edge.

the two of you walked into your tutorial room and took your seats. at least minjeong wasn’t here, but sungchan was. and even worse, he was sitting just a few rows behind you, loud enough for you to hear every word he was saying.

“yeah, man, she’s amazing,” sungchan was saying to one of his friends, his voice carrying across the room like nails on a chalkboard. “she’s smart, funny, gorgeous…i mean, i’m going to make her mine.”

your grip tightened around your pen.

“like, she’s not even cold, you know?” he continued, his tone insistent, as if he were the authority on minjeong’s personality. “she’s just…selective. she doesn’t waste her time on people who don’t deserve her.”

every word he said felt like a dagger, twisting deeper and deeper. he spoke about minjeong like he knew her, like he truly understood her and it made your stomach churn.

he doesn’t know her. he doesn’t.

then again, maybe he was right. maybe you didn’t deserve her. maybe you never had.

the tutorial on property law dragged on, every second stretching into an eternity. when it finally ended, you were the last to pack up, moving sluggishly as the room emptied around you. beomgyu hovered nearby, watching you like you might break at any moment.

“y/n,” professor anderson’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you looked up to see professor anderson, her warm brown eyes filled with concern.

she was one of the few professors who actually seemed to care about her students, and she’d always had a soft spot for you, even if you were a pain in her class sometimes.

“yes, professor?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual.

she crossed her arms, leaning against her desk as she studied you. “you need to pull it together,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “i don’t know what’s going on with you, but whatever it is, you need to let it go. focus on yourself, not on…other distractions.”

you knew exactly what she meant, but you didn’t argue. instead, you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i understand,” you said quietly. “thank you, professor.”

“you’re capable, y/n,” she added, her voice softening. “more than you realise. don’t waste that.”

you nodded again, murmuring a quiet “i’ll try” before walking out of the room.

beomgyu followed silently, his usual teasing absent as he guided you toward the stairs where your friends always hung out.

as you approached, your eyes drifted to the gazebo. there they were — minjeong, sungchan and the rest of her friends. he was sitting exactly where you used to sit sometimes, his arm casually draped along the back of the bench, leaning into her like he belonged there.

you looked away quickly, but the image was burned into your mind.

“don’t do anything stupid,” yeji started as you reached the stairs, her voice cutting through the haze in your mind. “seriously, y/n. you’ve already hurt yourself enough. don’t make it worse.”

“she’s right,” beomgyu added, sitting beside you. “minjeong’s made her feelings pretty clear, hasn’t she? maybe it’s time to…you know, let it go.”

you sat there for a moment, staring down at your hands. their words were harsh, but they weren’t wrong. she really had made it clear. over and over again, she’d shown you exactly where you stood in her life.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

yeji frowned. “okay?”

you exhaled, the weight of the past year pressing down on you like a tidal wave. “i give up on her.”

the silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel like you were drowning.

“it’s about time,” ryujin cut through the silence, her voice lacking its usual teasing edge.

beomgyu clapped a hand on your shoulder, his grin tentative but hopeful. “you’re gonna be okay, y/n.”

you nodded, your gaze drifting back to the gazebo for a moment before turning away. it still hurt, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start moving on.

but those words had barely left your mouth when the weight of everything hit you all at once. you thought saying it aloud would feel like some kind of release, a burden lifted.

instead, it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. the edges of your vision blurred as your chest tightened, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything around you.

you couldn’t breathe.

“y/n?” yeji’s voice came from somewhere far away, muffled and distant. “are you okay?”

your hands were trembling, your fingers curling into fists as you struggled to pull in air. your body felt too heavy, your chest heaving as you fought against the invisible weight pressing down on you.

“shit,” ryujin said, her voice sharp with alarm. “she’s having a panic attack.”

your ribs ached with every shallow breath, the pain only amplifying the sense of suffocation.

“y/n, look at me,” beomgyu called out calmly, crouching in front of you. his voice was steadier than the others, but you could hear the undercurrent of worry. “hey, it’s okay. you’re okay. just breathe, yeah? in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

the panic clawed at your chest, your mind spiralling as thoughts of minjeong, sungchan and everything else crashed over you like a wave.

ryujin grabbed your trembling hands, her grip firm but not forceful. “count with me,” she said, her voice low and steady. “one… two…three…”

the breaths came in short, rapid bursts, your body fighting against you as the world narrowed down to the sound of ryujin’s counting and beomgyu and yeji’s soft reassurances.

slowly, the edges of your vision began to clear, and the tightness in your chest eased just enough for you to take a deeper breath.

“that’s it,” beomgyu said, his voice filled with relief. “you’re doing great, y/n. keep going.”

it took a few more minutes, but eventually, the panic subsided. your breaths came slower, deeper, though your chest still ached from the effort.

“you scared the hell out of us,” ryujin said softly, her hands still holding yours.

“sorry,” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

“don’t apologise,” yeji said firmly. “just…god, y/n. you’ve been holding everything in for so long. you haven’t had one of those in awhile.”

the truth was, you weren’t okay. you hadn’t been for a long time, and today had pushed you past your breaking point.

“we’re taking you home,” beomgyu decided, standing up and offering you his hand. “no arguments.”

“what about your other lectures?” you asked, though the question came out half-heartedly. “i can go home by myself, i’ve gone to all of mine.”

“it can wait,” ryujin reassured, helping you to your feet. “you need to rest.”

as the three of them guided you away from the stairs, your eyes flickered back to the gazebo. she was still there, her laugh carrying faintly on the breeze as sungchan said something that made her smile.

she didn’t even notice — or at least, pretended not to.

it hurt, but for the first time, you let yourself turn away. maybe you didn’t know how to move on yet, but you knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself.

one step at a time, you’d figure it out eventually.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the past few days had been a blur of quiet determination. for once, you focused on your lectures, actually paying attention and, to your own surprise, getting the answers right. the professors had started to notice the shift, exchanging glances whenever you raised your hand or turned in a completed assignment.

even your friends had been treading lightly around you, unsure of what to make of the sudden change.

your skateboard hadn’t seen the light of day in a week, and your fractured rib was a constant, painful reminder to take things slow. the ache kept you grounded, pulling you out of your thoughts whenever they strayed too far toward the past — or toward her.

you told yourself you were doing better. and maybe you were.

but then came criminal law and your tutorial; the one you dreaded the most and gotten into trouble for. the memory of that confrontation still made you cringe, but you were determined to avoid any repeat incidents today.

when professor cho announced that you’d be pairing up for an activity, your stomach dropped. random pairings. your gut churning. there were over fifty people in this class. surely your odds weren’t that bad. surely the universe wouldn’t —

“l/n and kim,” she announced and you felt your heart sink into your stomach.

there was no point protesting. she didn’t entertain negotiations when it came to her pairing system.

you didn’t look at her as you packed up your things and moved to sit beside her. minjeong was already there, her posture as perfect and poised as ever, her notebook open and a pen twirling idly between her fingers.

she glanced at you as you sat down, but you kept your eyes on your notes.

“so,” she began, her voice low and cautious. “let’s —”

“yes, let’s just get this over with,” you interrupted, your tone curt as you flipped through your notes. “assuming we both know the answers, this shouldn’t take long.”

she blinked, taken aback. she wasn’t used to this. wasn’t used to you being cold, distant. it was disarming, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

“how’s your rib?” she asked after a minute of silence, her voice quieter.

“fine,” you said shortly, not looking up and you rammed through your lecture notes.

she frowned, her eyes flickering to your hands. your fingers were trembling slightly, just enough to be noticeable if someone was paying attention.

she was paying attention.

“are you sure —“

“can we focus on the activity, please?” you cut her off, your tone sharper now. “i don’t want to waste time.”

the task was straightforward: analyse the implications of marbury v. madison on the separation of powers and judicial authority. a list of guiding questions were already provided.

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t push further. the two of you worked through the questions in near silence, your answers quick and precise, leaving no room for small talk. every time she tried to make a comment or ask something unrelated, you shut her down with a clipped response.

“okay, yeah, how did chief justice marshall justify the court’s authority to strike down laws?” minjeong asked, her tone professional, detached.

“his argument was that it was inherent in the role of the judiciary to interpret the constitution,” you replied flatly, not meeting her eyes. “and that any law conflicting with the constitution was void.”

she nodded, writing down your response. her attempt at making small comments, asking for your opinion on certain nuances of the case were shut down with brief, matter-of-fact answers.

aeri, sitting a few seats away, was clearly enjoying the show. she leaned back in her chair, smirking as she whispered something to jimin, who chuckled quietly.

minjeong cleared her throat, watching you write her answers down. “any plans for the weekend?”

you stopped writing, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at her. “seriously?”

when you brushed off another one of her attempts at conversation, aeri let out a low laugh that carried just enough for you both to hear. “looks like someone’s getting a taste of their own medicine.”

minjeong shot her a glare but didn’t say anything. she turned back to you, watching as you scribbled the last answer onto your notes with an almost mechanical efficiency.

“we’re done,” you said flatly, closing your notebook. you didn’t even look at her as you packed up your things, already half-turned away.

“wait,” minjeong said, her voice firmer this time.

you paused, your jaw clenching as you slowly turned back to face her. “what now?”

“what’s your problem?” she asked, her brows furrowed in frustration. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at her, disbelief flashing across your face. “why do you care?”

“i don’t,” she said quickly, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her. “i just think we should be civil. we have to share classes, and —”

“civil?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “you want to be civil? fine. here’s me being civil: i don’t want anything to do with you. so why don’t you go bother your boyfriend instead?”

her eyes widened, stunned into silence for a moment. “boyfriend?”

“sungchan,” you said, spitting his name like it was poison. “you know, the guy who’s been practically glued to your side?”

her mouth opened, but no words came out. she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain that sungchan wasn’t anything to her, that she didn’t even like him like that.

yet, the way you were looking at her — hurt and angry and tired — made her chest ache in a way she shouldn’t ignore.

“just leave me alone, minjeong,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “you’ve already made it clear how little i mean to you.”

and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving her sitting there, her thoughts a tangled mess of regret and confusion.

aeri, who’d been watching the whole exchange, let out a low whistle. “damn, winter. you really fucked this one up.”

she didn’t respond. she just sat there, staring at the spot where you’d been, her hands clenched into fists as she tried to make sense of the hollow feeling in her chest.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the sheer audacity of minjeong to ask you what was wrong after everything. it wasn’t just the question itself; it was the nerve of her, acting as if she cared when she clearly didn’t.

you couldn’t shake the anger. no matter how many hours passed, no matter how much you tried to focus on anything else, it kept bubbling up, simmering just beneath the surface.

“can you believe her?” you said, gesturing wildly as ryujin, yeji and beomgyu listened, clearly trying not to laugh. “what’s your problem? she has the nerve to ask me that, like she doesn’t know exactly what my problem is!”

“to be fair,” ryujin sighed, leaning back on her elbows. “you didn’t exactly give her much to work with.”

“yeah, well, she didn’t deserve anything from me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “if she wanted me to talk, maybe she should’ve thought about that before…ugh, before being her stupid idiot self.”

beomgyu snorted. “solid argument, y/n. very lawyer-like.”

you rolled your eyes, but it only made you more animated. “and the worst part? she keeps pretending like she wants to be civil. civil! like we’re strangers passing in the hall. how does she expect me to just…just—” you waved your hands in frustration, “pretend nothing ever happened?”

“you’re really letting this eat at you,” yeji snorted, glancing toward the gazebo. “but hey, at least sungchan isn’t around today. small mercies, right?”

you stopped for a second at her words, if you’d had to see him sitting there next to minjeong again, smiling like he’d already won, you might have actually lost your sanity.

“yeah,” you muttered. “thank god for that.”

“so,” beomgyu said, smirking, “when are we moving on to the part where you stop caring?”

“don’t hold your breath,” ryujin quipped, earning a laugh from yeji.

you were mid-rant again, mocking minjeong’s indifferent expression and her painfully polite tone, when someone tapped your shoulder lightly.

startled, you turned around, expecting one of your friends, or worse, another professor.

instead, it was danielle marsh — one of the girls who shamefully, on your part, tutored you occasionally.

“hey,” she said softly, her warm smile immediately catching you off guard. she was carrying a tray with coffee cups and a few neatly wrapped sandwiches.

“danielle?” you said, blinking in surprise. she was a year below you, someone you didn’t know very well aside from occasional nods in the hall. “uh, hi?”

“i, um, saw you hurt your rib the other day,” she stammered, holding out the sandwiches for you. “so, minji and i made this for you this morning. figured you might need it.”

for a second, you just stared at her, completely thrown. “you made this for me?”

“yeah,” she said, looking a little shy now. “well, for all of you, really.” she glanced at your friends, smiling. “thought you could all use a pick-me-up.”

your friends didn’t hesitate to take the offered sandwiches and coffee, immediately diving into grateful thank-yous.

“seriously, danielle,” you said, standing up and pulling her into a gentle hug, careful not to press on your rib. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“it’s nothing,” she laughed softly as she hugged you back. “i just hope you feel better soon, yeah?”

“thanks,” you said, pulling away and meeting her kind eyes. “really, thank you. this means a lot.”

she waved it off with a bright smile. “anytime,” and with that, she walked off, leaving you and your friends with her thoughtful gesture.

the moment she was out of earshot, your friends pounced.

“well,” ryujin drawled, raising an eyebrow. “that was adorable.”

“and unexpected,” yeji added, already unwrapping her sandwich. “she made this for you? i mean, for all of us, sure, but for you?”

“you’re getting girls faster than we thought,” beomgyu teased, grinning. “maybe danielle’s your new start? or minji?”

you groaned, but their teasing was infectious, and for the first time in days, you found yourself laughing. “fuck off you all.”

“just saying,” ryujin shot back, smirking. “if this is what moving on looks like, i’m here for it.”

meanwhile, from the gazebo, minjeong watched the entire interaction. she’d seen danielle approach you, watched as she handed you coffee and sandwiches, her smile soft and genuine. she saw the way you hugged her, your expression lighter than it had been all week.

she hated how it made her feel.

yizhuo, sitting beside her, noticed immediately. “jealous?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“no,” minjeong denied, her voice sharper than she intended.

“uh-huh,” the younger girl smirked. “sure you’re not.”

she didn’t want to admit it — not even to herself, but the gnawing feeling in her chest was unmistakable.

it was jealousy, plain and simple. and it had started the moment she saw danielle hand you those coffees and sandwiches, her smile bright and genuine as she looked at you like you were the only person in the world.

it wasn’t fair. you weren’t supposed to move on so quickly. not when minjeong had spent months convincing herself she didn’t care anymore, that you were just a chapter of her life she’d already closed. but watching someone else care for you made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t like.

“so,” jimin began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity as she leaned against the gazebo railing. “danielle, huh?”

minjeong stiffened. “what about her?”

“oh, nothing,” she laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “just that she’s kind of adorable. and from what i’ve heard, she’s, like, the nicest person ever. super smart, super talented. makes sense she’d go for y/n, honestly.”

“she is not going for y/n,” minjeong snapped.

aeri raised her eyebrows. “hmm, interesting reaction.”

“oh, please,” yizhuo chuckled as she looked up from her phone. “you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“i’m not jealous,” she insisted, but her voice lacked conviction.

aeri leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her smile faded slightly. “minjeong, if you’re just going to play with y/n’s feelings, leave her alone. seriously. she’s trying to move on and you need to let her.”

“i’m not playing with her feelings,” she protested, though the guilt was already clawing at her.

jimin scoffed, crossing her arms. “really? because the way you dumped her in front of everyone was pretty brutal. honestly, you’re lucky she didn’t punch you in the face.”

“she didn’t because she’s too nice for her own good,” yizhuo chimed in, her smirk widening. “but honestly, if she did, i’d have cheered her on — we liked y/n.”

minjeong clenched her jaw, her gaze dropping to the table. she didn’t need the reminder of how badly she’d handled things. she knew she’d been cruel and pushed you away in the worst possible way, all because she was scared.

“look,” jimin softened her tone. “you’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling, but don’t mess with y/n. she doesn’t deserve that — she chased you for a long time.”

before she could even respond, a loud, overly cheerful voice interrupted them.

“minjeong!”

she turned to see sungchan bounding toward them, a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers in hand.

her friends groaned in unison and jimin buried her face in her hands. “fuck’s sake, can you get rid of that cretin already? we let him sit here, once. and nothing more.”

“what now?” aeri muttered, glaring at the boy as he stopped in front of them, his grin blinding.

“i brought you these,” he said, holding out the flowers with a flourish. “thought they might brighten your day.”

minjeong blinked, completely caught off guard. “uh…”

“sungchan,” jimin interrupted, her voice dripping with annoyance, “we’re kind of in the middle of something. can you not?”

“yeah,” aeri added, ushering for him to leave. “serious conversation happening here. come back later. or maybe never.”

he frowned, clearly disappointed, but he turned to minjeong anyway. “wait, so…can i still come over tonight?”

right on time as you walked past the gazebo, your bag slung over your shoulder, steps faltering for a split second, your head turning just enough to catch sight of the flowers in sungchan’s hand and the hopeful look on his face.

your expression darkened, your brows furrowing as you looked away quickly and kept walking. but she saw it — the flash of hurt that crossed your face, so brief she might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching you so closely.

her chest tightened, guilt mixing with panic. without thinking, she stood up abruptly, ignoring her friends’ surprised looks.

“wait,” she called after you, her voice louder than she intended. “y/n!”

she caught up to you in a few quick strides, falling into step beside you as you kept walking.

then, you stopped abruptly, refusing to face her. “what do you want?” you asked, your tone flat and cold.

“i just…” she hesitated, struggling to find the right words as she turned towards you. “it’s not what it looked like.”

your expression was a mixture of anger and exhaustion, your eyes narrowing slightly. “what are you talking about?”

“sungchan,” she said quickly. “he’s not — i didn’t…he’s not coming over tonight. or any night. he’s not my boyfriend.”

“why do you think i care?” your voice cut through the air like a blade.

minjeong flinched, her chest tightening. she wanted to explain, to say something that would make this easier, but nothing came out. she hated the way your walls were so firmly in place now, blocking her out completely.

“you don’t have to explain yourself to me, minjeong,” you said, your voice softer now but no less firm. “we’re nothing to each other anymore. remember?”

you didn’t wait for her to respond. you turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts a tangled mess of longing.

from the gazebo, jimin let out a low sigh, shaking her head as she watched the scene unfold. “she’s really not handling this well, is she?”

“nope,” aeri sighed. “but it’s fun to watch.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, you were back in routine; or at least, you were trying to be. the faint ache in your ribs had dulled to something manageable and you’d thrown yourself into lectures and tutorials with a determination that surprised even you.

your professors had started making comments, subtle acknowledgments of your sudden focus and improvement but none of it felt particularly satisfying.

then the rumour started.

“did you hear?” ryujin’s voice broke through the usual buzz of the courtyard as she dropped her bag on the stairs next to you. yeji and beomgyu followed close behind, their expressions a mix of concern and hesitation.

“hear what?” you asked, not looking up from your notebook. you were halfway through an analysis of some case law, trying to keep your mind occupied.

“about minjeong,” ryujin said, her tone careful, like she was stepping on eggshells. “we want you to hear it from us.”

your hand froze mid-sentence. “what about her?”

“uh…” yeji exchanged a glance with beomgyu, who grimaced and shoved his hands in his pockets. “apparently, she said yes to sungchan.”

the pen slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the page. for a moment, you just stared at it, your mind blank. then you picked it up and calmly closed your notebook.

“oh,” you said, your voice eerily even. “good for her.”

ryujin raised an eyebrow. “you okay?”

“yep,” you stuffed your notebook into your bag and stood up, slinging it over your shoulder. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“oh, i don’t know,” beomgyu said, crossing his arms. “maybe because the girl you’ve been in love with for, like, two years just said yes to a guy who literally makes his hair gel do all the work.”

“beomgyu,” yeji hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“what? i’m just saying,” he muttered, but he backed off when ryujin shot him a warning look.

“it’s okay to feel defeated, you know,” ryujin said, her voice gentler now. “angry, even. god knows you tried your best to win her back.”

you sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples. “look, i’m fine. it’s whatever. she can date whoever she wants. i don’t care.”

“okay,” they were clearly unconvinced.

but you didn’t respond. instead, you turned and walked away, leaving your friends watching after you with varying degrees of concern. you didn’t go to your classes that day.

instead, you found yourself in the library, tucked away in a quiet corner with a stack of books and your notes spread out in front of you. studying was easier than thinking about stupid rumours.

meanwhile, across campus, minjeong was sitting with her friends at the gazebo when yizhuo casually dropped the bomb.

“so, when were you going to tell us?” she asked, leaning back in her chair with a sly grin.

“tell you what now?” minjeong asked, frowning.

“about you and sungchan,” she answered, raising an eyebrow. “i heard you said yes to being his girlfriend.”

she froze in her spot, quick to turn her head. “what now?”

“oh, come on,” aeri rolled her eyes. “everyone’s talking about it. apparently, sungchan told some of his friends and now it’s all over campus.”

“that’s not true, i’ll fucking punch him,” she said quickly, her voice rising slightly. “i didn’t say yes to him. i didn’t even —” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “this is getting out of hand.”

jimin raised an eyebrow as she crossed her legs, reapplying her lipstick. “so you’re not dating him?”

“no!” minjeong exasperated. “of course not.”

“well, you might want to clear that up,” yizhuo giggled. “because your rumoured boyfriend is basking in the glory right now.”

“ugh,” she muttered, standing up abruptly. “this is so stupid.”

“where are you going?” aeri called after her.

“to fix this,” minjeong yelled over her shoulder, already walking away.

as she made her way across campus, her thoughts weren’t on sungchan or the rumour. they were on you. if the rumour had reached her, it had definitely reached you.

and she didn’t like the idea of you believing it for even a second.

it didn’t take long to find you. the library was one of the few places on campus where you could completely disappear these days, and sure enough, there you were, hunched over a pile of books in a quiet corner.

minjeong hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. your head was bent over your notes, your brows furrowed in concentration, but even from here, she could see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pen moved too quickly, like you were trying to outrun your thoughts.

“y/n,” she said softly as she approached.

you didn’t look up. “what do you want, minjeong?”

“i need to talk to you,” she muttered, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down before you could protest.

“i’m busy,” your voice cold as you flipped a page in your notebook.

“it’s about what’s being said about me,” she began quickly, leaning forward. “the one about sungchan.”

that made you pause. your pen hovered over the page, but you didn’t look at her. “what about it?”

“it’s not true,” she tried to reassure you. “i didn’t say yes to him — i barely fucking know him.”

you finally looked up, your eyes meeting hers with a mixture of disbelief and frustration. “why are you telling me this?”

“because i don’t want you to think —” she stopped, her words catching in her throat. “i don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“minjeong,” you sighed, your tone tired, “you broke up with me. in front of everyone. you don’t owe me explanations about your love life.”

“i know,” she mumbled. “but i wanted to tell you anyway.”

you stared at her for a moment, your expression unreadable, before shaking your head and turning back to your notes. “thanks for the clarification. now, if you’ll excuse me, i have actual work to do.”

“okay.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “okay?”

minjeong hesitated, her chest tightening as she watched you retreat further behind your wall, but she didn’t know what else to say.

so she stood up, her hands clenched at her sides and walked away, leaving you alone in the quiet hum of the library.

she had made it halfway back to the gazebo when her steps faltered. the way she replayed your cold, clipped tone in her head bothered her.

she told herself to keep walking, to let it go. you clearly wanted nothing to do with her and it was too late for her to fix anything, but the thought of leaving things like this didn’t sit right with her.

“fuck it,” minjeong muttered under her breath, turning on her heel. she was already moving before she could second-guess herself.

the library was quieter than before when she slipped back inside. she spotted you almost immediately, still in the same spot, hunched over your notebook with a pen in hand. the tension in your posture hadn’t eased, and your lips were pressed into a thin line as you stared down at the pages in front of you.

she didn’t think. she walked straight to your table, stopping just short of your line of sight. her hands balled into fists at her sides, but her voice was calm when she spoke.

“what are you studying for?”

you froze for a moment before lifting your head slowly, your eyes narrowing as they met hers. “why are you back?”

“i’m curious,” she said, her voice steady as she gestured to the pile of books and notes on your desk. “what are you working on?”

you stared at her for a moment longer, clearly debating whether or not to engage. finally, with a sigh, you relented. “contracts,” you muttered, flipping through a set of messy notes. “specifically offer and acceptance. and it doesn’t make sense. i don’t get it.”

her lips quirked upward, just slightly, and before you could protest, she pulled out the chair across from you and sat down.

“show me what you’ve got,” she said, leaning forward and pulling one of your books toward her.

“minjeong, don’t,” you warned, but there wasn’t much heat in your voice. “it’s embarrassing enough that danielle, who’s a year below me, had to explain half of this stuff to me the other day. i don’t need my ex-girlfriend doing the same.”

“so?” she hummed, her voice calm in that matter-of-fact tone of hers. “i know you, she doesn’t.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. before you could form a rebuttal, she was already flipping through your notes, scanning the pages with a practiced eye.

“okay,” she began, her tone shifting into something softer, more focused. “let’s start with offer and acceptance. it’s the foundation of any valid contract, right?”

you nodded hesitantly.

“an offer is essentially a promise or commitment to do something, or refrain from doing something that’s communicated to another party,” she explained. “acceptance, on the other hand, is the agreement to the terms of that offer. it has to be clear and communicated back to the person who made the offer.”

you watched as she grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began sketching out a quick diagram, breaking the concept into manageable chunks. “think of it like this: aeri makes an offer to jimin. for it to become a binding contract, jimin has to accept it. if she doesn’t, there’s no agreement.”

“as if jimin would ever accept anything, but go on,” you frowned, glancing at your notes. “what about when an acceptance comes with conditions? like, if jimin says ‘yes, but only if you deliver by friday.’ doesn’t that count as acceptance?”

“good question,” minjeong said, nodding. “that’s actually a counteroffer, not acceptance. a counteroffer effectively rejects the original offer and replaces it with a new one. the original offer is no longer valid unless aeri agrees to the new terms.”

you blinked, processing her words. for the first time all day, the tangled mess of legal jargon in your head started to untangle itself.

“okay, but what about silence?” you asked, leaning forward slightly despite yourself. “like, if aeri threatens jimin with, ‘if you don’t respond, i’ll take that as acceptance.’ does that count?”

“generally, no,” she explained, almost laughing at your example. “silence isn’t considered acceptance. there are exceptions, though, like if there’s a prior relationship between the parties where silence has been treated as acceptance before but that’s pretty rare.”

you let out a low sigh, leaning back in your chair. “this is so annoying.”

“you’re doing fine,” she smiled, her tone reassuring as she slid the diagram she’d drawn across the table. “you’re overthinking it. contracts are just logic in disguise.”

“logic,” you repeated, rolling your eyes. “right. it’s totally logical to write 50 pages on whether saying ‘maybe’ counts as acceptance.”

minjeong chuckled softly and the sound caught you off guard. it was the first time in a long while that she didn’t sound distant or guarded.

“okay, fair,” she kept the smile on her face. “but you’re getting there. it’s not as bad as you think.”

you glanced down at the diagram she’d drawn, the pieces clicking into place in your mind. reluctantly, you muttered, “thanks.”

“anytime,” she answered, her voice soft.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the tension between you easing just slightly. but then you shook your head, a faint scowl tugging at your lips. “still doesn’t change the fact that this is humiliating.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head.

“because you’re my ex,” you said bluntly. “this is next-level embarrassing.”

minjeong shrugged, her expression calm. “i don’t see why it’s a big deal. i’ve seen worst. plus, we’ve been through this before.”

her words lingered in the air, heavier than you expected. for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond, so you said nothing.

instead, you turned your attention back to the notes in front of you, your chest tightening with something you didn’t want to name.

she, however, didn’t press further. she stayed, patiently guiding you through the material until the frustration in your eyes gave way to understanding.

the library was much quieter now, with most of the tables empty and the hum of whispers and shuffling papers reduced to a faint background noise. as you packed up your things, minjeong stood by the door, waiting silently. the awkwardness between you had lessened, but it wasn’t entirely gone.

after all, she was still minjeong; cold, poised, and impossible to read — and you were still you, guarded and hesitant.

you slung your bag over your shoulder as you approached her. “thanks for the help,”

“you’re welcome,” she replied, her tone equally quiet.

the two of you stepped out into the hall together, the silence between you not entirely uncomfortable, but not warm either.

and then, as if the universe had decided to throw yet another curveball your way, you spotted danielle walking toward you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.

“y/n!” she called out, waving as she quickened her pace.

you stopped, your heart sinking slightly and it was not out of dread, but because you could already feel the tension radiating off minjeong beside you.

still, you smiled at danielle, grateful for her kindness. “hey, what’s up?”

“oh, nothing much,” she said, adjusting the strap of her backpack. “just wanted to see if you’re free after school. thought we could have another study session. you know, go over those case studies from contracts? i think i’ve got some good notes that might help.”

for a moment, your mind flickered back to the days when minjeong used to tutor you. the late nights in quiet study rooms, the way her calm explanations had made everything click.

it was hard not to draw parallels, but you quickly pushed the thought aside.

“yeah, sure,” you said with a nod. “that sounds good.”

danielle beamed and then her eyes shifted to minjeong, who had been standing silently beside you the entire time. her smile faltered slightly as she tilted her head. “oh, hi. i don’t think we’ve met.”

you hesitated for a split second before gesturing between them. “danielle, this is minjeong. minjeong, danielle.”

“hi!” danielle said brightly, extending a hand. “nice to meet you.”

she glanced at her hand briefly before giving it a polite shake, her expression cool and detached. “likewise.”

danielle didn’t seem fazed by her tone, her smile unwavering. “so, are you two friends?”

you opened your mouth to answer, but minjeong spoke first. “we’re classmates.”

her voice was so flat, so devoid of emotion, that it left no room for interpretation. danielle nodded, glancing at you as if to say, well, that was awkward.

“anyway,” she continued, turning back to you, “i’ll text you the details for later, okay?”

“sounds good,” you said, offering her a small smile. “thanks, danielle.”

“no problem,” she grinned. “see you later!”

with that, she waved and walked off, leaving you alone with minjeong once again. the silence that followed was heavier than before and when you turned to look at her, her expression was unreadable.

“what?” you asked, frowning slightly.

she didn’t respond immediately. her eyes lingered on the spot where danielle had been, her thoughts racing. she thought about the way the other girl had smiled at you, her kindness so effortless and genuine.

she thought about the way you’d smiled back, softer than you ever smiled at her these days.

and then, minjeong thought about herself; her coldness, her inability to open up, the walls she’d built so high that even you, someone who had once been so close, had struggled to climb them.

she thought about the way she’d hurt you, the way she pushed you away and how she kept coming back, unable to let go but unwilling to fully stay.

you deserve better.

the realisation hit her with a clarity she couldn’t ignore. you deserved someone who could match your warmth and meet you halfway without hesitation.

someone who didn’t leave you questioning your worth or your place in their life.

and minjeong knew, deep down, that she wasn’t that person.

“nothing,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “i’ll see you around, y/n.”

before you could respond, she turned and walked away, her steps brisk and purposeful.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the moment minjeong walked away, you brushed off the strange interaction as just another one of her weird moods, but the more you thought about it, the more it stuck in your head.

the way she’d been so quiet, her gaze distant, it was strange, even for her.

as you made your way to your next class, you couldn’t help but vent to yeji, who listened intently as she walked beside you.

“it was so weird,” you tried to explain. “she just stood there while danielle was talking to me. like, awkwardly silent the whole time. and then she walked away without saying anything, like — what was that?”

yeji snorted. “classic minjeong,” she said, rolling her eyes. “probably trying to act mysterious. you know, her usual icy queen routine — all the reason why her nickname’s winter.”

“i don’t get it, though,” you said, frowning. “she came back into the library just to help me with contracts and then she acted all…weird when danielle showed up.”

“maybe she’s jealous,” she suggested with a smirk.

“jealous?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “of what?”

“danielle; she sees you getting close to someone else and suddenly remembers she doesn’t like sharing.”

“that’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “minjeong doesn’t care about me like that anymore. she made that pretty clear when she dumped me in front of everyone.”

yeji shrugged. “maybe. or maybe she’s just realising what she lost.”

the thought lingered in the back of your mind as you reached your next class: professor diaz’s administrative lecture.

the room was already filling up with students when you walked in and minjeong was seated near the middle, often her usual spot. you hesitated for a split second when your eyes met hers, but you quickly looked away and took a seat beside yeji in the back row.

professor diaz walked in a moment later, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room as he placed his notes on the desk.

“good afternoon, everyone,” he started, tone brisk as always. “today, we’re starting a project that will require collaboration, critical thinking and presentation skills. it’s an activity that requires two members per team.”

you glanced at yeji, who gave you a small, sympathetic smile. you weren’t a fan of group projects, but you could survive it.

hopefully.

“partners have already been assigned,” he continued, flipping through a list of names. “i paired you based on complementary skills and previous performance. some of you might not like it, but tough luck.”

again, you slouched slightly in your seat, praying to every higher power you could think of that you wouldn’t end up with —

“y/n l/n and kim minjeong.”

you groaned quietly, earning a small laugh from the girl beside you. “tough break,” she whispered, smirking.

you’ve got to be fucking kidding.

you reluctantly made your way to the middle of the room, where minjeong was sitting, her expression unreadable as always. she didn’t look surprised to see you, which only annoyed you more.

“of course,” you muttered as you dropped into the seat beside her. “because who else would i get stuck with other than you?”

“nice to see you too,” she said dryly, flipping open her notebook.

professor diaz continued explaining the project from the front of the room. “we’re diving into the practical application of judicial review in administrative law, specifically focusing on procedural fairness and its two pillars: the right to a fair hearing and the rule against bias.”

he paced the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back. “your task is to analyse a hypothetical case, identify the grounds for judicial review and argue whether the administrative decision should be upheld or quashed; this project will span the next week or two, depending on how i feel. the final deliverable will include a written report and a joint presentation to the class.”

you collectively groaned with everyone else, pulling out your notes as you glanced at minjeong. “so,” you said flatly, “what case should we pick?”

“something straightforward,” she replied, her tone calm. “we don’t have time to overcomplicate this.”

“righto,” you said, opening your laptop. “let’s look at some recent cases.”

the two of you worked in tense silence for a few minutes, scrolling through legal databases and jotting down notes. the tension was palpable, hanging heavy between you. you could feel her gaze on you every now and then and it made your skin crawl.

“why do you think professor cho paired us?” you asked finally, breaking the silence.

“probably because your grades improved when i was tutoring you,” minjeong said matter-of-factly.

you glared at her, but she didn’t flinch. “well, that’s embarrassing.”

“why?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “it’s the truth.”

her words caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. you quickly shook it off, refocusing on the project. “whatever. let’s just get this over with.”

minjeong didn’t respond, but she watched you carefully, her expression unreadable. you looked so beautiful.

as much as she tried to focus on the project, her mind kept drifting to one thought: you deserve better than this. better than me.

she didn’t say it. instead, she turned her attention back to the case in front of her, determined to at least help you succeed in this, even if it meant spending the next few days side by side.

the library became your designated meeting spot for the project, mostly because it was neutral ground. neither of you wanted to be in each other’s spaces and the library was safe and impersonal.

together, you worked in a tense but oddly productive silence during your free time, with occasional moments of begrudging cooperation when one of you needed clarification or feedback.

the first few sessions were uneventful, though the air between you was thick with unspoken words. minjeong would occasionally glance at you when she thought you weren’t looking, her gaze lingering just long enough for you to notice, but she never said anything about it.

it was during your third meeting that everything went sideways.

you were both seated at a table in one of the quieter corners of the library, surrounded by books and notes as you debated how to frame your analysis of the case.

minjeong had just finished explaining her point when a loud, overly enthusiastic voice shattered the peace.

“minjeong!”

you looked up, already cringing as sungchan approached your table, his usual grin plastered across his face. he was carrying a coffee cup in one hand and what looked like a wrapped pastry in the other.

“what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone cool but tinged with annoyance.

“what does it look like?” he said, pulling up a chair uninvited and plopping down beside her. “i saw my favourite girl through the window and thought i’d bring you coffee. and a croissant. your favourite, right?”

she sighed, her eyes briefly flickering to you before landing back on his. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve got to eat, right? and who’s this?” he glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “oh…y/n, right?”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, we’re working on a project if you’ve got eyes.”

sungchan’s gaze darted between you and minjeong, his grin faltering just a little. “huh, weird pair. but then again…” he trailed off, his smirk returning. “you two used to date, didn’t you?”

her jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything. you, on the other hand, just rolled your eyes. “what’s your point?”

“nothing,” he replied, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “just funny how things work out, isn’t it? i mean, you’re stuck working with her, and she —”

“sungchan,” minjeong interrupted, her voice sharp. “stop.”

he blinked, clearly caught off guard by her tone. then he laughed, shaking his head. “fine, fine. i’ll stop. but, you know, it’s interesting —”

“sungchan,” she repeated, firmer this. “leave. we’re busy.”

he didn’t leave. instead, he looked at her, then at you and back again. and then, with a smug grin, he said, “wait minjeong, i thought you said you never liked her.”

the words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. your stomach twisted, heart dropping into your chest as you stared at minjeong. she froze, her eyes widening slightly as she opened her mouth to respond.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you spoke for her, your voice low but sharp as you glared at sungchan.

“i’m just saying,” sungchan replied with a shrug, clearly oblivious to the tension he’d just created. “she told me she never really liked you. thought you’d have figured that out by now. why are you still sticking around?”

“sungchan,” minjeong snapped, her voice colder than ice now. “leave. now — before i knock your fucking teeth out of you.”

he finally seemed to realise he’d crossed a line, his grin faltering as he stood up. “jeez, okay. no need to bite my head off,” he set the coffee and croissant down on the table, muttering, “enjoy your project,” before walking off.

the silence that followed was deafening.

“did you really say that?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling just enough to betray how much it hurt.

she looked at you, her expression panicked for a split second before she forced herself to remain calm. “no,” she said firmly. “he’s lying. why would i do that?”

“so he just made that up?” you shot back, your tone harsher now. “out of nowhere?”

“yes,” she said, her voice steady but strained. “i never said that. i —” she hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table. “i wouldn’t say that about you, ever.”

you scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “great, so now i’m supposed to believe that, what? he’s just running around making up lies about you?”

“i don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now. “but i didn’t say it. you have to believe me.”

you stared at her for a long moment, searching her face for any hint of insincerity but she looked genuinely upset, her usual mask of indifference cracking just enough for you to see the guilt and frustration beneath it.

“whatever,” you muttered finally, looking away. “let’s just finish this stupid project.”

minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but then she closed it again, her shoulders slumping slightly. for the rest of the session, neither of you spoke unless it was directly about the project.

the air between you was heavier than ever, weighed down by everything that had been said — and left unsaid.

finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. you slammed your pen down on the table, the sharp sound cutting through the library’s quiet hum.

“do you think this is funny?” you snapped, your voice low but furious as you glared at her. “is this all just some game to you?”

she looked up, startled by your sudden outburst. “what are you talking about?”

“you,” you hissed, your chest heaving as your emotions boiled over. “you dump me in front of everyone, act like i don’t exist for months and now you’re back in my life, acting like you care? and on top of that, sungchan shows up and says you never liked me? are you fucking kidding me, minjeong?”

for once, she looked genuinely at a loss, her usual composure completely shattered.

“do you even realise how humiliating this is for me?” you continued, your voice trembling with anger. “i have been trying to move on, to forget about you and every time i feel like i’m getting somewhere, you show up and remind me of how much of an idiot i am for still caring about you!”

“you’re not an idiot,” she said quickly, her voice soft but desperate. “y/n, i —”

“then why?” you demanded, leaning forward, your eyes burning into hers. “why did you break up with me like that? why do you keep showing up, acting like you care and then pulling shit like this?”

minjeong stared at you, her jaw tight, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, you thought she wouldn’t answer. then, she exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair.

“because i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i was scared then and i’m scared now.”

you blinked, thrown off by her sudden vulnerability. “scared of what?”

“of how much you mean to me,” she said, her gaze dropping to the table. “of how much you’ve always meant to me. y/n, when we were together, you…you saw right through me. you knew me better than anyone else ever has and it terrified me. because if you could do that, if you could get that close, then you could hurt me in ways no one else ever could.”

her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard before continuing. “so i pushed you away. i thought if i ended it, if i made you hate me, then i could protect myself but all i did was hurt you, and i hate myself for that.”

you stared at her, your anger fading into something closer to disbelief. “you broke up with me in front of everyone.”

“i know,” she trembled. “i know and it was cruel and i’ll never forgive myself for it. but i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean any of it. i thought if i made it loud, if i made it final, then i’d stop feeling the way i do about you. but it didn’t work.”

you shook your head, trying to process her words. “then why did you let sungchan say all that crap? why didn’t you stop him?”

“because i didn’t know how,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to fix this, how to tell you everything i’ve been feeling. i thought it was too late.”

“it is too late,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “you can’t just come back into my life and expect me to forgive you for everything. it doesn’t work like that.”

minjeong nodded, her expression crumpling slightly. “i know. i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i need you to know that i never stopped caring about you. not for a second.”

her words hung in the air, heavy and raw. you looked at her, at the way her usual calm had completely unraveled and you didn’t know what to say.

part of you wanted to scream at her, to tell her that her feelings didn’t matter anymore.

“i don’t know if i can do this,” you said finally, your voice quieter now but no less firm. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“i understand,” she looked down, fidgeting with the hem of shirt. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that i mean it. i’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

you didn’t say anything — you didn’t need to for now. instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, your chest tight with a mixture of anger and sadness. the girl across from you stayed silent after that, giving you the space you needed, but you could feel her presence beside you, heavy and unrelenting.

she had said all the things you’d once wanted to hear — things you’d longed for when she left you shattered in the middle of that hallway.

“y/n,” minjeong’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “please say something.”

you didn’t look at her. “there’s nothing to say.”

“you don’t believe me,” she said softly, more a statement than a question.

“no,” you admitted, your tone clipped. “i don’t.”

the words hung between you like a final nail in the coffin. minjeong opened her mouth to respond, but you were already standing, gathering your things with deliberate precision.

“where are you going?” she asked, panic flickering in her voice.

“home,” you said shortly. “i need to think.”

“what about the project?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

you hesitated for a fraction of a second, then put your bag over your shoulder. “figure it out.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

for the next few days, you avoided her like the plague. you skipped the library sessions, ignored her texts and avoided her in class. when professor diaz asked about your progress on the project, you lied, saying you were working on it separately.

ryujin cornered you in the courtyard one afternoon, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed.

“what’s going on with you?” she demanded. “you’ve been weird all week.”

“nothing,” you replied, looking away.

“bullshit,” she snapped. “this is about minjeong, isn’t it?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was enough.

“y/n,” she sighed, her tone softening. “you can’t keep running from this. i know she screwed up, okay? we all know that. but you need to deal with it instead of shutting everyone out.”

“i’m not shutting everyone out,” you defended yourself.”

“you’ve been avoiding her, skipping the library and now you’re lying to the professor about the project,” she listed off. “sounds like shutting everyone out to me.”

“it’s none of your business,” you muttered, brushing past her.

“actually, it is,” a new voice chimed in. you turned to see beomgyu and yeji approaching, both looking equally concerned. “because now we have to deal with mopey minjeong asking about you.”

“she’s not —” you started, but beomgyu cut you off.

“oh, she is,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “she asked me yesterday if you’d said anything about her. looked like a kicked puppy when i told her no.”

“you’re being dramatic,” you muttered, but your resolve was weakening.

“he’s not,” yeji said firmly. “and honestly, y/n, it’s exhausting watching you both avoid each other when clearly there’s so much unresolved.”

“i’m done with her,” you admitted, though the words felt hollow even to you.

“are you?” ryujin challenged, her eyes narrowing. “because you don’t look done. you look hurt. and if you keep bottling this up, it’s only going to get worse.”

on the other side of campus, minjeong was facing her own intervention. her friends had dragged her to the gazebo, refusing to let her leave until they got answers.

“spill,” jimin demanded, leaning forward with her arms crossed. “what’s going on with you and y/n?”

“nothing,” minjeong muttered, staring at the ground.

“oh, please,” aeri rolled her eyes. “you’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog. what happened?”

minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i…told her how i felt.”

“and?” yizhuo prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“and she doesn’t believe me,” she admitted, her voice small.

jimin groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “well, can you blame her? you broke her heart in front of the entire university, minjeong, and when she chased you around, you ran faster.”

“and you’ve been cold and distant ever since,” aeri added. “what did you expect? that she’d just fall back into your arms the moment you said you cared?”

“i wasn’t expecting anything,” minjeong said defensively. “i just…i wanted her to know the truth.”

“okay, so you told her,” yizhuo shrugged. “now what?”

“she’s avoiding me,” minjeong responded, her voice cracking slightly. “she won’t answer my texts or show up for the project. i don’t know what to do.”

“maybe start by actually communicating,” jimin suggested dryly. “you know, instead of expecting her to read your mind.”

“and stop being so passive,” aeri chimed in. “if you want her to believe you, you need to show her. actions, not just words.”

“but what if it’s too late?” minjeong asked, her voice trembling. “what if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

jimin sighed, her expression softening. “then you’ll have to accept that. but at least you’ll know you tried.”

“i’m just going to drink my heart out.”

the sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow over the campus as you made your way toward the stairs that led home. the day had been long and all you wanted was to collapse into bed. as you reached the top of the stairs, you spotted jimin, aeri and yizhuo waiting for you like a trio of judgmental guardians.

“great,” you muttered under your breath, already preparing for whatever nonsense they were about to throw your way.

“y/n,” jimin said, stepping forward with a raised eyebrow, “we need to talk.”

“can’t it wait?” you asked, brushing past her, but aeri stepped in your way, blocking your path with her arms crossed.

“it’s about minjeong,” aeri said flatly, her piercing gaze locking on yours.

that stopped you in your tracks. you didn’t look at them, but your stomach twisted in knots. “what about her?”

yizhuo sighed dramatically, leaning against the stone railing. “she’s at joe’s juice joint. drinking.”

“on a tuesday night,” jimin added, mirroring aeri’s stance. “because word has it that a certain someone has been avoiding her.”

you scoffed. “i don’t care what she does.”

“she’s been there since this afternoon,” aeri said, raising an eyebrow. “she’s refusing to leave and we’ve had her guards attempt to pick her up.”

“because of you,” yizhuo chimed in, her voice unusually serious. “she thinks you’re done with her.”

you rolled your eyes, clutching the strap of your bag tighter. “she brought this on herself.”

“she did,” jimin agreed, stepping closer. “but she’s still hurting. and whether you want to admit it or not, you care about her.”

“why don’t you pick her up then?” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your frustration.

“because,” yizhuo shook her head. “it’s not us she’s been crying about. trust me, we’ve tried.”

that stung.

the three of them watched you expectantly, their expressions a mixture of smugness and concern.

finally, you let out a defeated sigh. “fine, i’ll go and talk to her.”

“thank you,” aeri smiled, stepping aside. “and while you’re at it, remind her that drowning her sorrows in alcohol isn’t a personality trait.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the bar was dimly lit, the scent of citrus and wood polish thick in the air. it wasn’t crowded, but the familiar hum of chatter and soft music filled the space. you scanned the room quickly, your heart sinking when you spotted her in the far corner.

minjeong sat slouched in her chair, one arm resting lazily on the table while the other clutched a half-empty glass of whiskey. her blazer hung off her shoulders, her usually neat blonde hair slightly disheveled.

she looked up as you approached, her eyes widening briefly before she looked away, taking a long sip from her drink.

“minjeong,” you called out, voice firm. “what are you doing here?”

she didn’t answer right away, swirling the liquid in her glass. “drinking.”

“on a tuesday night?” you pressed, sitting down across from her. “this isn’t like you.”

she snorted, the sound bitter. “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“cut the bullshit, minjeong,” you said sharply. “why are you here?”

she set her glass down with a thud, her lips trembling slightly. “because you won’t talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking. “because i miss you, y/n. i miss you so much and it hurts.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you refused to let your guard down. her usually cold demeanour was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“you don’t get to say that,” you clenched your jaw. “you don’t get to sit here and cry about how much you miss me after what you did.”

she winced, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “i know, y/n. and i hate myself for it. i hate that i hurt you, that i pushed you away. but i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you thought breaking my heart in front of everyone was the solution?” you snapped, your voice trembling. “you made me feel like i didn’t matter to you, minjeong. like i was nothing.”

“you were everything,” she said, her voice desperate. “that’s what scared me. i thought…if i ended it, i’d protect myself. but all i did was destroy the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“winter —” you started, but she cut you off, her eyes finally meeting yours.

“you have every reason to hate me,” she said, her voice breaking. “but i can’t stop thinking about you. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you, for the rest of my life, i’m certain i want you.”

her confession left you stunned, the sincerity in her voice breaking down the walls you’d so carefully built. you didn’t realise how much you’d needed to hear those words until now.

“you really hurt me,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know if i can trust you again.”

“let me earn it,” she said, her eyes pleading. “please, y/n. give me another chance. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, you hesitated; part of you wanted to walk away and protect yourself from getting hurt again.

but you loved her.

“fine,” you said finally, your voice soft. “but you’re going to have to work for it. and right now, we’re getting you out of here.”

to your surprise, she didn’t hesitate. she grabbed her blazer, threw it over her shoulders and clung to your arm as you guided her out of the bar, her grip firm as if she was afraid you’d let go.

“you don’t have to do this,” she mumbled, her voice slurred. “you don’t owe me anything.”

“you’re right,” you said, guiding her through the door. “but someone has to make sure you don’t end up passed out on the sidewalk.”

she let out a weak laugh, her fingers tightening around your arm. “you’re too good to me.”

“don’t push it,” you muttered, but the corners of your lips twitched.

when you reached the car, she refused to let go of your hand. even as you opened the door for her, she tugged you closer, pressing soft, clumsy kisses to your knuckles.

“minjeong,” you said, your voice tinged with exasperation. “get in the car.”

“i don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your skin. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you this time.”

you sighed, your heart twisting as you gently pried her hands off yours and helped her into the passenger seat.

the ride to her mansion was cloaked in a heavy silence, save for the occasional sniffle from her. her head rested gently on your shoulder, her fingers entwined with yours.

the gesture felt intimate, almost too much for the charged air between you, but you didn’t pull away. you weren’t sure if it was to comfort her or yourself.

“i missed you,” she began, planting another gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “i wish i told you sooner.”

you hummed, nodding as you pulled up to the gates of her mansion. “i wish you did too.”

minjeong didn’t move. her gaze was fixed on your joined hands, her thumb absentmindedly tracing circles over your skin. she let out a shaky breath, her lips parting as if to speak but no words came.

“winter?” you prompted softly, your brows knitting together in concern.

she finally looked up at you, her eyes glossy and filled with something raw, vulnerable. “i don’t want to go inside,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

you tilted your head. “why not?”

“because…” she hesitated, her grip on your hand tightening slightly. “because i don’t want to be alone.”

her words hit you square in the chest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. her eyes searched yours and then, hesitantly, she leaned forward just slightly, her breath warm against your lips.

she stopped, hovering close, her needy voice barely audible. “can i kiss you? please?”

the question made your heart stutter. the vulnerability in her voice; you could see how much this moment mattered to her, how much she was holding herself back, waiting for your permission.

“minjeong,” you let out a shaky breath; unsure. “you’ve been drinking. you’re not sober and i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

she shook her head quickly, her fingers tightening around yours. “it’s not like that,” she pleaded, her voice cracking slightly. “i know what i’m asking. this isn’t the alcohol talking. it’s me — your winter, remember?”

you stared at her, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “are you sure?”

“please,” she whispered, leaning just a little closer. “just one kiss. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

then you nodded, your voice barely audible as you said, “okay.”

the relief on her face was instant. she leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. her warm lips brushed against yours softly, hesitantly, as if she was afraid of pushing too far. her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin in a gentle, almost praising way.

her tongue darted out to meet yours, hesitant at first but growing bolder as the kiss grew more intense. your tongues danced together, a rhythm of unspoken words and emotions too overwhelming to say aloud.

her fingers moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing against your skin as if she was trying to memorise the feel of you.

she wasn’t just kissing you — she was apologising, pleading and pouring every unspoken word into the way her lips moved against yours.

you hummed softly against her lips, your hands finding their way to her waist and pulling her closer. she smiled when your skin pressed against hers letting your arm snake around her body.

and once minjeong was no longer content with just that, she shifted in her seat, climbing over the console until she was straddling you in the driver’s seat. her knees pressed against the sides of the chair, her body fitting perfectly against yours as her hands tangled in your hair.

the kiss turned hungrier, more desperate, as if she was afraid this moment might slip away. her fingers pulled your hair slightly as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

your hands slid up her back, pressing her closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

“minjeong,” you murmured against her lips, your voice breathless but she silenced you with another kiss, her lips capturing yours in a way that made your head spin. “this isn’t one kiss.”

“please don’t push me away,” she whispered between kisses, her voice trembling. “i’ll prove it to you, y/n. i’ll prove that i can be better. just…don’t let me go.”

your hands gripped her waist, anchoring her to you. “i’m not pushing you away,” you replied softly, your lips brushing against hers. “but this doesn’t fix everything.”

“i know,” she mumbled quickly, her forehead resting against yours. “but i miss you, i’m sorry.”

you kissed her again, slower this time, more deliberate. your tongues moved together in the same rhythm, her hands trailing down to your shoulders, her touch lingering as if she was afraid you might vanish.

when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. her eyes fluttered open and she looked at you with so much adoration in her eyes.

“come inside,” she whispered, her voice soft but insistent. “please, stay with me tonight.”

“okay,” you pressed a kiss against her cheek, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “let’s go.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve sighs as Robin cackles and opens the door to the break room to add yet another tally to the “You Suck” side of her whiteboard. He hopes she lingers for a bit so he can get a break from the constant reminder that yes, he does suck. But the stupid hat and sailor uniform is enough of a reminder already.

And okay, maybe he enjoys Robin’s company a little bit, so maybe he doesn’t want her to linger for too long.

But he’ll never tell her that. Not in a million years.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone walk into the entrance and he turns to give his “ahoy there” speech that Robin refuses to utter a single word of. Only, he gets a little choked up when he realizes he knows the person.

Well, not exactly knows him. But it’s hard not to know of Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Especially if you go to high school with him and happen to be a jock, god forbid. Not that Steve ever disagreed with the things he said, although some of it went right over his head - okay, most of it did. But! All things said, Eddie had a habit of making himself known to people.

“Ahoy there!” Steve announces louder than intended. “Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain.” He leaves out his name because what’s the point? It’s not like Eddie isn’t aware of his existence or at least his last name which sometimes made a feature in his tabletop speeches.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie says for him, apparently knowing his first name. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Surprisingly, it’s not said in complete distaste. In fact, Eddie is smiling widely at him, eyes roaming over the uniform and landing on the hat.

Steve sighs, “Trust me, I know. So, what can I get for you today?”

Eddie smiles wickedly and asks, “Why don’t we set sail on this ocean of flavor and you can show me around, captain?”

A blush creeps its way up Steve’s neck and begins to burn at his cheeks. Probably from the humiliation. Nevertheless, he points out each different flavor and goes into detail about what’s in each since Eddie seems to be enjoying the humiliation, but Steve doesn’t mind it too much since he feels like he’s getting his undivided attention. And something about that makes Steve feel… less sucky.

He glances up at the end of his speech about the last flavor and catches Eddie staring at him with a small smile on his face, more genuine than before.

“What?” Steve can’t help but ask.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says, but the lie is clear to both of them. “I’ll get the USS Butterscotch.”

Something about the flavor makes Steve hesitate.

“What?” Eddie asks this time, slightly defensive.

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “Cup or cone?”

Eddie laughs, “Come on, you can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Eddie gestures at him. “Make that face and then pretend like you weren’t thinking anything.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “And you can?”

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he leans across the top of the glass dramatically and puts his head in his hands. “I’ll get a cone please.”

Something about the image makes Steve laugh as he grabs a cone and scoop, making the order for Eddie. "You know." he says, wishing the ice cream was the slightest bit softer, "I was expecting you to get something like death by chocolate or coffee."

"Why's that?" Eddie asks curiously.

Steve glances up at him and shrugs. “Those flavors are more…” he struggles to find the right word.

“Metal?” Eddie asks, sounding almost hopeful.

“Exactly.”

The smile on his face grows. “Well, I’m glad you see me as someone metal, Steve. But what, just because you’re a jock, I’m supposed to expect you to like some gross flavor like bubblegum?”

Steve frowns. “I like bubblegum ice cream.”

Eddie sighs and runs his hands over his face. “Of course you do.” He takes a moment to look over Steve again. “But looking at you now, I’d assume your favorite flavor would be the USS butterscotch.”

“Because of the stupid hat, right?” Steve asks as he drizzles extra caramel on the top of the cone.

“I think the hat is cute,” Eddie replies.

The comment sends Steve’s heart into a bit of a frenzy for a moment before he collects himself and hands the cone over in exchange for the bill in Eddie’s hand. He counts the change two times, trying to make sure he doesn’t make a mistake as a bunch of panicky thoughts go through his head. He hands the change over quickly but hesitates when Eddie stares at it and frowns. “Something wrong?” Steve asks.

Eddie glances up at the menu, down at his change, and takes a moment before saying, “Sorry, you just charged me for a single scoop when this is a double with an extra topping.”

Steve frowns and looks at the cone. “The topping is on the house, but that’s a single scoop.”

Eddie glances up at him and raises his eyebrows.

“A generous single scoop,” Steve corrects himself.

There’s a pause before Eddie’s smile widens, and the corners of his eyes crinkle up cutely. “I think i just found my new favorite ice cream place.”

Steve laughs, “Better than Linda’s Ice Cream Parlor?”

“Linda would call this a triple scoop and wouldn’t give me a topping but she would still make me pay the extra just for asking,” Eddie complains with a smile.

“Well, I would never do that to you.”

“Is that so?” Eddie asks, leaning forward a bit.

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips momentarily as he tries to come up with a response.

“Hey dingus, there was a horrible delivery you missed…” Robin trails off as she looks between the two, effectively ruining the moment.

“See you around, Harrington,” Eddie says with a wink, tongue darting out and gathering up a bit of white ice cream and letting it disappear into his mouth.

Steve feels a familiar heat in the pit of his stomach and nearly groans. Instead he hurriedly tells Robin, “I’m taking my break!” And effectively ignores the look she’s giving him.

Back in the break room, Steve walks up to the board and stares at it, glancing at the “You Rule” column and whispering, “Almost,” before sighing and putting his head in his hands.

He can’t believe that Eddie Munson is sending him into a sexuality crisis. Yet, he hopes he comes back often the rest of summer. And maybe he’ll finally be able to get that “You Rule” tally.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }

"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.

"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.

"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.

Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.

He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.

Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.

"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.

"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.

"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.

"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.

"On three."

"One."

"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.

Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.

"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.

"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.

It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.

Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.

"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.

"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.

"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.

"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.

"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.

"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.

"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.

"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.

"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.

"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.

"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.

"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.

"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.

"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.

"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.

"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.

"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.

"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.

"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.

"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.

"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.

"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.

"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.

"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.

"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.

"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.

"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.

"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.

"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.

"And you."

It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.

"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.

The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.

"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.

-

-

-

( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )

[meowmeowriley]

Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.

The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.

Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.

"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.

Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.

Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.

Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.

Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.

Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens." 

Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"

"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."

Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.

***

Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Moments the boys fall in love with Yuu  

Romantic or platonic, mostly fluff, a little angst with comfort  

Ruggie Bucci, Jack Howl, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Rook Hunt  

Ruggie Bucci

Yuu had been helping Crowley with all sorts of paperwork this year, as she had taken on the apprenticeship under him for education. She was already doing most of it anyway, might as well get paid for it right? But it gave her access to a lot of information other people don’t.  

So when she found the grant and looked at the details, she knew she at least had to offer it.  

Yuu knows better than to pull Ruggie out of class, he hides it well, but it pisses him off. He can’t afford to get anymore behind than he already is compared to these rich bastards. So, she slips a note to the teacher to give to him to arrange a meeting in the next few days.  

It ends up being over dinner at Ramshackle a few days later, after a late shift at the Monstro Lounge, that she finally gets to talk to him.  

“So, you can tell me off, but I ain’t doing it out of pity or nothing,” she starts, pulling out a stack of papers. He cocks his head, starting to skim over the complex and small text. “Long story short, it’s a grant for schools under a certain income bracket to receive additional help, including a three-meal program. If you can convince instructors to continue using the building over breaks, you can even continue with meal program during the breaks so that the food comes around all year, all shipped in and paid for on the governments dime. It lasts around 5 years.”  

Ruggie’s ears are flat against his head, flipping through the pages. She gets the impression that he would have set his plate down if she hadn’t waited until he had scraped the pot clean.  

“NRC obviously makes too much in donations alone,” especially from the royal families, no nepotism rules her ass, “but if you could give me some more details about your place, I might be able to-” 

“Set up an actual school.”  

That makes her pause. There wasn’t...no.  

“I know you said that you learned from the hard knock school of life but...there’s nothing?” she asked. 

“Naw. So, this grant would guarantee that a school could stay and that the kids might actually attend, especially with the promise of food.”  

“Well, I’ll need to find the forms for that, but I'm sure it's doable, especially if I can make a good case. It was pretty buried in there, so I don’t think I’d have to try too hard, I don’t imagine a lot of folks even know about it.”  

He squints his eyes at her, leaning back in his seat.  

“What do you get out of this?” he asks, folding his arms, “You don’t know my home. You don’t know my people.”  

“No, but I know you love them and you work hard for them every day.” She gestures to the apron folded over the chair. “And if you do, I will choose to. Besides, you and I both know these rich bastards have no problem taking our taxes and doing stupid shit with it. Might as well take it back and apply it where it needs to be.”  

He huffs, covering his mouth as it turns to a full cackle as he curls in. He might have said something in between his laughs? She can’t tell, but he’s cheeks are ruddy and glowing when he finally collects himself.  

“Alright Prefect, what details do you need?”  

Jack Howl

There were lots of places boarded off at Ramshackle that Yuu was still exploring. Finding a sunroom was the last thing she thought Ramshackle Dorm might have, but after sweeping and cleaning the place, it’s charming. Open windows, dark frames lining the three out of four walls, and the furniture actually isn’t too bad, just needing a wipe down and some wood oil to make it shine again. The fact that Ramshackle was also being used as an oversized storage unit helps since it has upholstery, furniture and fabrics for repairs for every dorm that she can really make the place shine.  

She knows that Riddle and the boys would love to decorate in Heartslabyul colors, line rose boxes and vines and lilies in the hanging baskets, but she has a better idea.  

“Hey, Jack!” She calls out after track practice. He raises a hand at her, giving his body a light shake to get rid of the soreness in his muscles. “Do you have any succulent or cactus cuttings you could spare?” 

His ears narrowed in straight on her, standing a bit straighter.  

“Ah, yea...I could have some sent from home too.”    

“Is this about the sunroom?” Deuce asked. “We could have some rose bushes sent in from Heartslabyul too. Riddle would be ecstatic to have the Queen’s roses out.”  

“No offense to Riddle or Heartslabyul,” Yuu rubbed the back of her neck, “But there are roses everywhere. Queen Heart’s Roses, Fairest Roses, Thorn Fairy Roses, you get the idea. Besides, I like plants that are heartier and don’t require alot of tending too. Just free to do their own thing.”  

The only reason Jack’s tail wasn’t wagging is because he was holding it. Deuce snickered behind his back, cackling as he avoided the swat at his head.  

“Let me bring what I have at the dorms right now. Besides, it’ll be nice for my dormmates to not be able to mess with it at least some of them.”  

Jack wasn’t able to bring anything big with him when he came to NRC, but the cuttings would grow quickly. The fact that his Mom paid for some of the bigger ones to be sent carefully through the mirrors helped fill out the space, and Leona donated some of the ferns and larger faunas when Ruggie mentioned it. It was in exchange for having a daybed in there so he could nap whenever he wanted, but it was a small sacrifice.  

By the time they finished putting the room together, including sewing together some pillows in Savannaclaw colors and tightening a few screws on the benches and chairs, it looked like a slice of his dorm. Mainly yellows and oranges, with the soft greens of the succulents and more saturated green of the cactus to accent it all. His cactuses were clearly the center point though, blooming like nothing else.  

His Mom had also taken the opportunity to send Yuu a few old clothes that his sister no longer fit in, warm sweaters and shirts that were very much in the style of home. Jack hadn’t known until they started unpacking the box, but Yuu had loved them and he couldn’t find it within himself to be too upset. Afterall, Yuu didn’t have much to begin with, and he knows that fall will be coming in soon.  

When he comes in a few days later He sees her curled up on a chair with her study materials. The tap of her pen against her lip, the smell of heat and fauna thick in the air, snuggled into an old hoodie of his, he can’t even blame his heart for skipping a beat.  

It’s only natural, he tells himself. Instinct even. He doesn’t have to think too hard about it.  

“Why’s your tail wagging?” Yuu asks, pointing to his back.  

“No reason!” he barks, ignoring the way he’s heart does it again as she cackles.  

Only natural.  

Deuce Spade

Deuce would tell you that he’s not the smartest guy in the room. He knows that academically he struggles, and even sometimes with common sense. There’s a lot of things that he never learned or forgot because he made some stupid shitty decisions in his past.  

Maybe that’s why he prefers studying with Yuu one on one instead of a group. Yuu is having to teach herself the basics too, history, spell work, math, literature, they aren’t exactly on the same page, but they are closer than he would prefer to admit.  

Riddle, bless him and his tenacious ways, kept his notes from all his grades. It’s binders and binders worth of material and even if they are slow at it, Riddle never says anything about how long the binder is gone from his bookshelf. He simply continues to offer help.  

Yuu gets the idea after she sees Riddle’s magicam and puts 2 and 2 together with Cater’s exam results.  

So, the next time they get together, she takes him to a side room where a broken radio is.  

“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the tools set off to the side.  

“I have an idea,” Yuu says, sitting on the floor. “I’m going to quiz you while you fix the radio.”  

“Huh?”  

“I have an idea, I think it’ll help, I just need you to trust me.”  

He shrugs his shoulders, rolls up his sleeves and starts answering questions as he pulls the panel off. The quiz is tomorrow and anything is better than nothing at this point.  

Professor Trein smiles at him a bit as he passes the quizzes back at the end of the period.  

“Well done Mr. Spade. Your studying is paying off well.”  

83. He had gotten an 83.  

“Dude!” Yuu jumps on his back, hugging him, “Awesome! It worked!”  

He knows the blush on his face isn’t pride or joy. Neither is the goofy grin. But if that’s what Yuu thinks when she sees it, she doesn’t need to know.  

If they dance together with that fixed radio and his hands linger a little too long on her hips or waist, he doesn’t think too hard on that either.  

He isn’t a very smart man, but he knows he is a happy one.

 

Ace Trappola

Ace will admit that he’s an asshole sometimes. He is self-aware enough and selfish enough to not care. But he isn’t a complete asshole, and really, he’s just preventing you from being stuck with another Overblot like what happened on Winter Break!  

That was the only reason he invited Yuu over. No other reasons.  

He of course does the polite thing and introduces you to this family, including his brother. He doesn’t dislike his brother, he’s actually pretty cool, but he’s aware that he is cooler than Ace. And smarter. And more handsome.  

He isn’t purposefully keeping Yuu away from him, but if it so happens that every time his brother is home that you two are out doing things, that’s just a weird coincidence.  

It’s sunset on the last day, and his family insisted on a cookout all together. They like Yuu a lot, and for the most part try and keep him out of trouble. Which meant lots of talking, family telling stories and comparing between the two of them, like they always do. It isn’t malicious, he knows that, but it hurts sometimes when his brother has a seven-year head start. It’s winding down now though, with his parents and brother going to bed already for work in the morning. They should have been, the train leaves early the next morning, but neither of them can sleep, so they are trying to wind down with cards. Ace always has a pack on him, but in his room he has multiple. He’s even nice enough to let Yuu pick the deck she wants.  

“You ready for tomorrow?” she asks, laying a card down.  

“Totally. I love my folks but being here just makes me itch to leave again.” he makes a pair, chuckling at her huff, “Besides my brother is...well he’s my brother, you know.”  

“I mean, he’s ok, but I much prefer hanging out with you.”  

It’s such a small thing that it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t. But damn if he’s face doesn’t twitch into a genuine smile. Prefers him. Yuu prefers him.  

“Ah, you gotta crush on me?” He teases, poking her cheek, “You got something you want to tell me?”  

“Oh, fuck off.” She snips, kicking his foot, “You got an ego that makes Vil look humble.”  

He can only laugh, muffling his delight into a pillow. He tucks the memory away with a breath, making another pair.

 

Rook Hunt

The gardens of Pomefiore aren’t as well-known as some of the other dorms, but they are beautiful, nonetheless. Carefully cultivated and trimmed, it has more of a nature tamed by man aesthetic, but it was still beautiful.  

Rook knows them better than most students, spending so much time amongst the trees, bushes and flowers to practice his hunting skills and photography. When Yuu asked him for pointers, he was more than happy to give her a hands-on lesson.  

“And that is how you achieve this effect!” He says, setting the glass off to the side.  

“Nice!” she nods, finishing the note she was writing. “That is so much easier than what I was picturing. I can’t thank you enough for this Rook, this will help so much with the commission that Crewel gave me. What got you into photography anyway?”  

“Having pictures of Roi De Poison and Monsieur Curiosity that nobody else has? Bliss! But also, I do so enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Photography gives me the means to shoot and not kill my target. Their beauty must live on until fate takes them. Or my arrow.”  

Yuu cannot help but chuckle a bit, figuring that was the case.  

“Vil told me a bit about the day you two met. It makes sense. He also said you started in SavannaClaw?”  

“I did. Transfering dorms was the best decision I have ever made!” He touches the leaves above him, the apple tree swaying a bit in the cool breeze. “Why do you think I switched dorms, Mon Trickster?”  

Yuu zips up the ghost camera into her bag, taking a moment to try and phase her words. The Rook that Vil described reminds her of herself here. Ambition with no direction. Goals of survival with no room for anything else. Of being so cautious and gentle with everything around, but the people aren’t with her. Even those that care for her bruise her, even when they don’t mean to.  

“I think...you got tired of your life feeling like a museum.” Rook cocks his head at her. “Before, you kept your hands behind your back, quietly observing, scrutinizing and praising the beauty around you but never interacting. I don’t know if you thought you didn’t deserve it or that you couldn’t have it, but I think you got tired of imagining what softness would feel like. I think you decided that you would rather be an active participant, in your life, even if it meant changing, however scary it is.”  

It is quiet behind her. Yuu secures the last of the props into the tote, still waiting.  

“Rook?”  

She doesn’t get a chance to turn around. His front thumps into her, arms wrapping around her shoulders.  

“Apologize Mon Ami. I was stunned by your wisdom un moment.” He whispers. She feels him take a deep breath into her shoulder, but he’s hat completely blocks him from her view. “You might be the closest yet.”  

“Huh?”  

“Nothing, nothing!” He jumps in front of her, grabbing the tote with a bright smile. “Let us return, Roi de Poison does hate one being late!”

“We are meeting Vil after this?” She asks, jogging to keep up his pace that’s more like a skip.  

“Of course! We have traveled much today. We must replenish with good food and drink!”  

He goes on to describe what is on the menu, but inside it is taking everything within him not to gather you up and take him home. Oh, Mon Trickster, you read him too easily. He will have to keep you close in the years to come to just keep himself safe, in whatever capacity needed. There is, after all, more than one way to be a lover.  

[loveinhawkins]

Barely ten minutes into the hike from Skull Rock to Lover’s Lake, Dustin heaves a sigh like he’s the most long suffering person in the world to ever exist. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, what?”

“I’m bored.”

“God, you’re such a whiner. No, you—you’re like a little kid on a road trip, like, are we there yet?”

Behind them, Max and Lucas snort in almost perfect unison.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Eddie’s lips twitch into the faint semblance of a smile. It’s very quick, blink and you miss it, before he turns sombre again, looking down at the forest floor. Steve can’t blame the guy; he can’t imagine that he has all that much to smile about.

“I just meant,” Dustin says, “that we could use some entertainment.” He jerks his head meaningfully at Eddie—who thankfully still has his head down so he can’t witness this tremendous lack of subtlety—and mouths, You know, a distraction.

“And I’m the entertainment guy,” Steve says flatly.

“Well, we’ve gotta keep you around for some reason,” Lucas pipes up.

Steve turns around, walks backwards so he can point warningly at him. “Thin ice, Sinclair.”

But it’s all for show, and he keeps walking backwards, pretends to trip on a tree root and narrowly avoid a pratfall. Max actually giggles at that, which is a victory in and of itself, but Eddie’s looking down at his feet.

Hmm.

“If I wanted slapstick, I would’ve called Charlie Chaplin,” Dustin says.

“He’s dead,” Max points out.

Dustin quickly draws a hand over his neck, Cut it out. Which—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t want the conversation straying into stuff that’s too close to… everything.

“So you want education instead?” Steve says. “I think I can remember how to identify, like, some trees and shit from—”

“Forget Lover’s Lake,” Dustin says, “I’m walking you straight into a retirement home.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to play up his outrage, and then he hears a very soft chuckle from the side. Eddie.

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, winks briefly in reassurance. Nice work.

“Oh, sorry, is that not entertaining enough for you?” Steve turns so he’s front facing again, kicking a few stray twigs as he thinks. “Uh… ooh, did I tell you about the affair? At work?”

“Someone’s having an affair at Family Video?” Lucas says, sounding disgusted.

Max cackles. “The scandal! At a family establishment, no less.”

Dustin points at her. “See, this is why you should play D&D!” he says, annoyingly sing-song. “You’ve got a flair for words.”

“How about I stick my flair right up your—”

“Uh, okay,” Eddie interrupts suddenly. “I need details.”

Aha, Steve thinks, smug. Got you.

“Fire away, Munson.”

“Did someone, like, confess to you while you were ringing them up?”

Steve scoffs. “No, it was—” He cups his mouth, calls, “Hey, Rob?”

Up ahead, Robin and Nancy turn.

“What?”

“The affair shift.”

“Oh!” Robin whacks Nancy on the arm in her enthusiasm. “This is such a good one. Okay, so am I gonna be her or—?”

“No!” Steve says. “You’ve gotta be me, you can’t do her voice right.”

“Ugh, fine, fine. Wait, I need to get into character.”

Robin makes a show of ruffling her hair, and Steve doesn’t even roll his eyes, can only grin as he hears Eddie cough a much stronger laugh into his elbow.

“Nance, count us in,” Robin says.

Nancy looks a mixture of surprised and amused. It only takes a moment of hesitance before she mimes holding a slate, mouths counting down. “Action!”

And they’re off.

It’s probably so stupid, Steve thinks, to be this loud right now, but he can’t bring himself to care—not when he can hear raucous laughter from all directions: Robin captures his flustered, wide-eyed look, while he dramatically re-enacts a woman storming into the store, demanding to see her husband’s account.

And he thinks Eddie actually laughs the loudest when he gets to the reveal: that said account was full of romantic movies the married couple had never seen together.

“Not one,” Steve echoes—and not to brag, but with this delivery? Juilliard, eat your heart out. “Not. One!”

The kids dissolve into more giggles; Robin fights to stay in character as Nancy jokingly calls, “And, scene!”

And Eddie throws back his head, and laughs and laughs.

Happiness is a good look on him, Steve thinks.

They all quieten eventually, but a lightness in mood still remains, as the kids huddle off together—“Hey, shitheads, not too far!” Steve says, far from the first time—and Eddie sidles up, fleetingly knocks their shoulders together.

“Steve Harrington. Who would’ve thought it, huh?”

“Thought what?”

Steve glances over at him, suddenly struck by the fact that the sun will go down soon; and he doesn’t really need to know what Mordor is to know that he’d rather not get there. That he’d rather freeze time, so they could all just walk in the woods forever.

Eddie shrugs. “You’re a good storyteller.” His eyes are soft, like that isn’t all that he’s saying. Like he’s saying Thank you.

Steve shrugs back. “I’m a man of many talents,” he says.

Eddie chuckles, and this time his smile doesn’t fade away.

Steve allows himself a moment or two to admire the scenery, and if that means looking less at the way the sun still shines through the gaps in the branches, and more the way that it illuminates Eddie’s lingering smile, well…

Well, so what?

Right now, we’re happy, Steve finds himself thinking.

They can stay in the Shire for a little while longer.

[archangeldyke-all]

can we plssss get more details about plug!Sevika & reader fucking in the backseat 👁️👁️

eheheheheheheheheehheh

men and minors dni

you sigh happily, reaching across the center console to start scratching at sevika's scalp. she hums, melting against her chair and smiling as her eyes droop closed.

you just had a nice little date night at a local mexican place both of you've been dying to try out. the food was delicious, almost as good as the frozen drinks.

now, you're in your little spot, listening to the rain pitter-patter all around sevika's car as you pass a joint back and forth. the windows are cracked, but only barely, so the whole car is filled with smoke and steam.

"this might be our best date night yet." you mumble around the joint in your mouth. sevika cracks her eye open to smile at you.

"you're kinda easy if some tacos and weed is all it takes, babe." she mumbles. you gasp in faux-offense, and pull your hand away from her scalp.

"sevika! rude! there were drinks involved too!" you defend yourself. she bursts into laughter, then snatches the joint from your lips to take her own hit.

"you really think this is our best one? what about that picnic we went on?" she asks. you hum, considering it.

"it was so hot that day. i was all sweaty and gross." you stick your tongue out in disgust. sevika chuckles. "plus, we couldn't fuck in the park, it was so crowded."

sevika snorts. "remember when those kids almost caught you tryna shove your hands down my pants?" she teases. you groan, mortified at the reminder. "you looked so stupid!" she giggled.

the second you had seen the kids you panicked, and pretended that there was a bug on sevika's crotch that you had been trying to shoo away from her. you quickly pivoted from feeling her up to smacking her clothed crotch and screaming 'there's a bug! there's a bug!'

"ugh, shut up!" you groan, smacking your girlfriend across the car where she cackles. sevika catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. you huff.

"i love you, dumbass." she chuckles. you smile shyly at her.

"love you too, asshole." you mumble. she grins.

"you know, we haven't fucked on this date yet." she says. you giggle.

"we should change that."

sevika laughs, then nods toward the backseat of her car. "shall we?" she asks.

you burst into giggles and then start clambering into the back seat. sevika laughs and smacks your ass as you crawl past her, and you squeal and flail against the back seat. she chuckles as she crawls back after you.

with a few awkward fumbles and some grunts, you and sevika manage to collapse the backseat so it's flat with the trunk, giving you guys space to spread out. sevika's too big to fit in the backseat-- she's gotten way too many cramps and pains from trying to shove herself in the backseat after you in the past.

you've learned from your mistakes, and now you guys always take the time to spread out. it's nice. now, sevika always carries a few blankets and pillows around in the trunk for these moments. you watch as she spreads one out over the surface, then holds an arm out for you. "m'lady." she giggles as she helps you crawl on the blanket. you snort.

sevika lays you down, presses a kiss to your lips, and holds her finger up. "where're you goin'?" you whine as sevika reaches back up to the front seat. she chuckles at your neediness, and you hear the click of the car locks. "oh." you mumble, slightly embarrased. she giggles, then turns back around with a blunt between her lips, flicking a lighter. you laugh. "where'd you even get that!?"

"c'mon babe, you know me. i got stashes everywhere." she laughs as she takes the first puff, then passes it down to you. you take a deep breath, moaning a bit when you realize sevika's bought your favorite wrap flavor.

"'s like candy." you grin as you exhale. sevika takes the blunt from your hands, takes a quick hit, then swoops down to kiss you. you moan against her lips.

you guys get lost in each other. the pitterpatter of the rain outside, the hazy atmosphere of the car, the addictive feeling of her lips on yours-- it isn't until you smell burning that you both pull away with a gasp and start smacking the blanket beneath you where the cherry of sevika's blunt had fallen and started a tiny fire.

"shit!" sevika curses as she giggles and smacks the blanket. "shit. sorry baby." she basfully looks back up at you. you giggle.

"thank fuck you noticed. no more making out while smoking." you decide, for the fifth time this month. sevika nods.

"here." she says, passing you the blunt. "take care of this for me." she whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips. you take a hit, sighing as sevika starts trailing kisses down your chest. she pushes your shirt up under your armpits, quickly unfastening your bra and pushing it up along with it. you giggle as she starts nipping at your tits, and she smirks up at you. "make sure you don't start a fire with that thing, baby." she mumbles.

it's all the warning you get before she's pushing your miniskirt up your hips and your panties to the side, ducking between your legs to shove her nose right against your cunt and take a deep inhale.

you squeak. "sev!" sevika pulls away with a grin.

"you smell so fuckin' good. god, wish i could just keep my face buried in your cunt all the time. need a perfume of it or something." she mumbles. you giggle, flicking her forehead.

"gross." you laugh. she nips your thigh.

"you're the one who sucks my fingers after i finger myself." she mumbles.

"well! that's 'cause i got the long nails 'n i can't do it myself!" you whine.

sevika licks a stripe up your cunt, and you squeak. the blunt ashes a bit, and you carefully take another hit, sure to hold the cherry over the cupholder instead of the blanket when you pull your hand away. "'m gonna eat you out, then take you home 'n sit on your face." she mumbles.

you nod. then blink in confusion. "wait, why do we have to go home?"

"i'm not hunching over in this tiny ass car, babe."

"just lemme eat you out like this!" you laugh, pointing at the position she's got you in now. she huffs.

"nah. i wanna fuck up all the makeup on that pretty face of yours all myself." she mumbles. the words make you shiver, and you shove your free hand into her hair, pulling her toward your cunt. she chuckles against you for a second, the vibrations making you crazy, and then she gets to work.

when she's sober, sevika eats you out with the single-minded focus of getting you to cum as hard as you can. but when she's high, you think she's in it more for her own pleasure than yours.

she takes her time, licking, sucking, sniffing, nibbling-- she giggles sweetly at each of your reactions and mumbled curses.

the way she moans against you is the same way she hums happily when she's snacking while she's got the munchies. it makes you giggle a bit.

you take another hit and sigh. "i love you, baby." you mumble. sevika shoves her tongue up your cunt as far as she can in response, and you gasp and moan, shivering against the blankets. "fuck, keep doin' that." you whine.

she growls in response. you can feel her drool and your cum pooling under your ass, and even though the car is dark, when she comes up for air you can see the slick shine of your cum covering half of her face. she dives back down with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, panting like a dog. she's so hot you don't know what to do with yourself.

"sevika-- i'm close." you whine. she pulls up, and makes grabby hands for a hit of the blunt. you scoff. "now!?" you ask. she giggles and plucks the blunt out of your finger, takes a hit, and passes it back to you.

"open." she chokes out. you quickly follow her instructions, parting your lips and inhaling as she leans over you, exhaling against your mouth. you sigh the smoke out of your lungs, grin up at her, then giggle when she bites your bottom lip. "okay." she whispers, seemingly satisfied, as she darts back down between your legs.

she picks up right back where she left off, and you're even closer than you were before. "fuck, fuck, fuck." you whimper as you start grinding against her lips. you can feel the curl of her smile pressed against you. "sevika, fuck!" you cry.

she groans as you cum all over her face, licking you up tenderly as you shake through your aftershocks, then sits up with a proud, happy smile when she's done. you giggle.

"so?" she asks. you blink.

"what?" you ask. she chuckles.

"how's this date compare to the others now that you got your rocks off?" she asks. you burst into giggles, pulling her down for a kiss.

"best we've had yet, baby." you mumble.

sevika grins. then, "how long until you're gonna be able to crawl to the front seat so i can take you home and fuck your face?"

you burst into giggles and take a long drag off the blunt, blowing the smoke in her smirking face as your response.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

[buntobeans]

delirious venture after tooth surgery

warnings: blood, venture is like HIGH from anesthetic nothing much else

idk if anyone has written this but it's so cute seeing all those videos with people after surgeries being absolutely ZOOTED and having no idea what planet they're on

also i am NOOTTTT a dentist by any means im just going off of my fanfic delirium.... it's 4am this is a pretty bad work but i GAWT TO BE ON MY VENTURE GRINDSET

sooo we all know how sloan has a chipped tooth, right? not entirely sure what it's from, their chipper highlight intro or them eating a rock- either one is funny as hell

to say you freaked out was an absolute understatement, there was blood everywhere and sloan was just looking at you like:

:D

"amor, look what i found!" they hold up the rock in their hands so proudly like a cat that's brought back a dead mouse

"SLOAN, YOU'RE LITERALLY BLEEDING."

you force them to drop the rock/artifact or leave it with the wayfinders, ensuing in a very pouty sloan

one trip to the emergency room later sloan is ZOOTED

literally space ranger the way they are NOT on earth

you go to pick them up, they're in the waiting room

you're relieved by the fact that they're okay but you're absolutely not prepared for what comes next

the medical staff informs you that they're very out of it, slyly adding along that you must be "the partner with (e/c) eyes that sparkle in the sunlight"

the what

you enter the room to see them having an extremely animated conversation to anyone that will listen, whether it's the doctors or the potted plant on the table next to their seat

as soon as they namedrop you you feel extremely embarrassed

they're describing your exact appearance (like if you have brown hair, none of that brunette shit, they're saying "they have #5C4033 hair")

they describe your first meeting and first date in way too specific detail and the middle-aged lady next to them in the waiting room is just like "uh huh yeah if this mf dont stop talking they're gonna be in the emergency room AAGGAAAIN"

"SLOAN SHUT UP"

your partner takes a GOOD LONG LOOK AT YOU

like 30 seconds of just gaping, you really can see their chipped tooth in its full glory

"sloan, we're going home"

they gulp and stare up at you like their big wet eyes

"i can't go home with you"

"why not"

"my partner will get jealous"

"."

"by the way, my partner has the prettiest smile. i miss them" they're looking so sad as they said that, like you fucking died

YOU'RE RIGHT THERE

"sloan.."

"whoa.. how'd you know my name?"

"i AM your partner"

they blink

it's like they're seeing you for the first time again

their eyes are sparkling and they look like they're falling in love all over again

they give you a crooked smile, kind of slumping back in their seat cause you took their breath away, cheeks hotter than before

"hey there!"

you're exhausted from worrying over them and their tooth but they're looking at you like you're the most radiant being in the world- no- the universe

"oh dios mio.. see i was tryna be loyal but you came in looking really pretty and i thought (for only a second i promise, like, one second!) about cheating.. thank goodness we're together tho"

what

your heart does a few flips in your chest

suddenly you're kinda pissed that they had to get injured in their mouth because you want to sloppily make out with this rock munching idiot

the car ride home is almost abysmal

they're belting out stupid songs, randomly screaming deez nuts jokes even when you don't fall for them then cackling at themselves because it's funny to THEM, mumbling things in spanish you don't understand (you swear you hear a "te amo" in there)

it's stressful as HELL for you because you have to constantly check that their seatbelt is still on because they're excitedly looking out the window like a dog with its tongue out

they're also randomly shouting and pointing out shit outside like they're playing road trip bingo

you're thankful when they quiet down eventually until you hear

"Can we get married? I proooomise I'll take care of you.." They sniffle. "I've got the moneeeyy.. 'n I really think you were made f'me.. I jus' wan' t'be t'gether forever... I loooove youuuu..."

you nearly crash the car

JESUS SLOAN

you tend to them at home and it seems like all their object permanence has vanished

gone from this world

because whenever you leave the room to get them water that THEY REQUESTED, they start crying

"AMOR, WHERE DID YOU GO"

they regain their senses the next day and you realize

it's not REALLY that different

they're still a goober

though with less (full) teeth than before

but they're your goober :)

still, using that little marriage speech against them has them flustered because they've really been thinking about it, it wasn't just a whim from their anesthetic-fueled delirium

[floweycidal]

do you think when flowey was a wee weed and just got into calling himself flowey that he had a kind of embarrassing stage he does not want to talk or even think about where he tried too hard to be the opposite of asriel and it was so obvious everyone could tell it was asriel

BAHAHAHAHA, YOU BET I DO! this is probably going to be as headcanon-y as it gets (kinda), sorry in advance. but really, making him a total sopping wet soggy loser is the best part of writing him. it's my favorite angle, no doubt.

the first month of being "flowey" was an exercise in second-hand embarrassment, except the person you're embarrassed for is yourself. and you can't even leave the room to escape it, because surprise! you are the room. you're a flower. stuck there. living it.

he had it all planned out. goodbye asriel dreemurr, the prince of crying-at-literally-everything, hello to... whatever cool and clever thing he was supposed to become. the details were fuzzy, but he figured being soulless meant the whole "evil" thing would come naturally.

it did not come naturally.

the cracks showed almost immediately. everything he tried just came out wrong. his threats sounded more like worried suggestions. his evil schemes kept accidentally making things better. his idea of entropy was essentially community service with attitude.

he couldn't even get the basics right. he'd tried tossing out sick burns, but they'd just hit with all the impact of a wet napkin. they weren't even insults half the time—just weirdly specific observations that petered off awkwardly.

he sucked at it. no way around it. he sucked ass.

so, he worked harder. determined to sound edgy, bad to the stem—whatever that meant—but it didn’t seem to take. every affront felt more like an accident than an attack. 

and the laugh. god, the laugh. he practiced it, forced it, tried every variation. dry chuckles, derisive cackles, even an exaggerated villain’s howl. none of them worked. what kept slipping out instead was the exact same dorky laugh that used to bubble up when #she would do silly voices during storytime.

this was the worst. he was the worst at being the worst.

his own body double-crossed him at every turn, still running on years of ingrained kindness his mind was trying to stamp out. he'd be right in the middle of his most "menacing" speech yet, really getting into the whole eternal suffering thing, when someone would sneeze.

"bless you!"

every. time.

the number of “villainy” monologues ruined by his automatic politeness was actually impressive. really, it was almost a talent.

it was a drawn-out process, this transformation. no guidebooks or cheat sheets. however... i’d argue the closest thing he had to a mentor here was toriel.

she didn't know it was him. obviously. somehow that made it worse, because she kept almost-recognizing things. little stuff he hadn't managed to burn away yet.

a familiar turn of phrase. how he'd end sentences. that godawful giggle that still sounded too much like pillow forts and frolicking in the mud. how he’d fill glasses, just enough to make them brim above the edge. the efficient way.

each time her eyes would catch on these moments, these tiny betrayals of self, he'd slam that reset button with all six petals. nu-uh, no buckaroo.

her reactions were the compass he followed, pointing to what needed to be carved away. reset after reset, he got better at it. harsher. finer. a little less like the kid who used to run up to her with flower crowns and scraped knees. 

the kindnesses got rarer; the callousness came easier.

never easy enough, though.

she'd still tilt her head sometimes, something glittering in her eyes like she was hearing the first few notes of a song she’d once known by heart. and he'd realize he'd effed up again, let some stupid little piece of asriel show through.

she’d never know she was teaching him how to stop being her son. to her, he was just some weird flower guy that occasionally felt eerily familiar, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

every time she almost intuited something in him, he'd reload, desperate to finally become someone she wouldn't know at all.

ahhhhh. and so it came full circle. in his frenzied bid to unlearn being her child, he was still (by the most bruisingly contorted logic) turning to her for guidance. still just a kid, looking to his mom for answers. just… not in the way either of them would’ve wanted.

[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 7

w.c - 3.6k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - quite graphic details of explosions and stuff + dark, slight yandere themes oops and also foul language

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

Every street, every building, all signs of life evaporated in a flash of fire and debris. You watched in horror as the first few explosions targeted the outskirts of Hell, where most of the Halas lived. The ground shook with each explosion, the stench of smoke rising to where you and the Eternals were.

You waved your hand in front of your face, trying to get rid of the dark fumes. The explosion started to creep scarily close to the city centre making your heart pause.

Your office building.

You could see it so clearly - almost too clearly. At that very moment, the exact floor where your own office was, exploded into flames, the screams of your colleagues louder than anything you’ve ever heard.

For a moment, the explosions ripped through the rest of the building in slow motion, shattering the windows and erasing every piece of your workplace from existence. The force of the explosion made you stumble back, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“What the f-“ you screamed, but Seonghwa’s cackle stopped you before you could finish.

“I told you that you’d regret betraying us,” Seonghwa’s voice cut through the air with a smirk, making you want to punch it off of his pretty stupid face.

“I didn’t do shit,” you spat back, moving towards him, going in for a punch.

That was when Hongjoong gripped your shoulder tightly, making you wince. His hands reached for your hair, forcing you to turn back at the sight in front of you. “Watch,” he sneered, not caring whether or not you were in pain.

Your colleagues ran out of the building covered in blood, soot and tears. You could see Walkers desperately crawling out of the building before being inevitably blown up by the explosives they planted outside of it.

Your office exploding meant one thing - they had an Eternal plant extra bombs in and around your building, extra bombs you didn’t know existed.

Your mind immediately went to Mingi. As much as you wanted to trust him, he was the main Eternal that led the bomb planting. You looked at him in the corner of your eye, seeing how he was spacing out, ignoring the destruction and screams around him. How you wanted to kill every Eternal around you right now..

Hongjoong, his hands still painfully tight on your head, dragged you to the side. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, forcing you to sit down. His touch on your skin made your stomach churn.

“You’re lucky we still need you,” he whispered, a creepy smile stuck on his face.

His fingers brushed the strands of hair away from your face and he traced your jaw with his thumb, an action that felt more threatening than anything. “Your office may be gone, but don’t worry- I’ve ordered my servants to move all your things to the Palace. This is your home.. forever.”

The explosions started to become white noise and the Palace faded from your mind. There were too many things happening at once - being trapped in this shithole, lives being lost and the fact that he probably knows about your plans to betray them.

As your mind started to scurry, trying to think of different ways to leave the Palace, Hongjoong leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Remember this: you’re only alive because I want you to be. Step out of line and you’ll wish that I left you with the pests.”

He straightened up, his eyes glowing with satisfaction before walking away to watch the screaming demons.

You sat in shock, struggling to catch your breath with the heavy smoke. Yunho approached you, reaching his hand out, but you swatted it away before he could touch you.

“Don’t,” you hissed, glaring at him.

Yunho froze, his hand staying in the air for a moment before letting it fall to his side. “I’m just trying to help..” he said softly.

“Help?” you exclaimed, standing up, ignoring how weak your legs were. “How are you ‘helping’ when you’re letting this happen? Do you think you’re doing something right?”

Yunho’s eyes darkened with.. guilt? Anger? Either way, he didn’t argue with you. You scoffed at his silence, shooting him a nasty stare.

“You’re not different, Yunho,” you continued, struggling to get the words out of your chest. “You act like you care, but when it really matters, you do nothing.”

He looked down, taking in your words. You could see him debating with himself, wanting to say something, but right now, you couldn’t care less.

You turned away from him, searching for the nearest door. “I need to get out of here,” you muttered to yourself.

You ran down the plethora of stairs, nearly tripping over many of them. The sounds of your footsteps echoed through the stone walls, each step being more hurried than the last.

You found yourself in the Palace garden, breathing the fresh air that you desperately needed after the suffocating smoke at the top. You wanted to slow down, but you heard footsteps approaching behind you, causing you to start running again.

Just then, a demon grabbed your wrist from behind, preventing you from going further. You whipped around, coming face-to-face with Mingi, his face worried. “What do you want?” you panted.

“Are you okay..?” Mingi asked, almost hesitant.

“You ran after me to ask that?” you snatched your hand away from his grasp. “No, I’m not okay, General. You just planted bombs in my office and pretended to work with me.”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly shook his head. “I know that’s what it looks like but I promise you, I didn’t do that. I had no idea that they were planning to attack your office.”

“Really?” you raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who led the execution? And the bombings?”

“Well- I did do that but-“ he started, his voice trailing off as you turned away, your back facing him.

“Wait-“

You paused for a moment, your hands clenching into fists at your sides. At this point, you couldn’t grasp everything that was going on - the explosions, the deaths of both Halas and Walkers, the potential betrayal of someone that was supposed to work with you. If Mingi was going to talk to you, he better have an explanation, not an excuse.

You sighed, turning around just enough to see his face. “You have one minute,” you stated.

Mingi gulped, taking a deep breath. “I had no idea they were going after your office,” he said, his words rushed. “I was given orders to lead the bombings, but the one at your office- I wasn’t aware of that plan. I swear- if I knew, you would know by now.”

“It’s an entire government office!” you exclaimed, not believing his words. “How can you, the General, not know about such a major part of the attack?”

Silence grew after your outburst. Mingi’s breathing went uneven, but his eyes never left yours.

“You have to understand,” he continued, his voice soft. “They didn’t tell me anything about your office. Look- the only demons I have an issue with are the Halas. I wouldn’t go out of my way to hurt Walkers.”

For a moment, the air became tense, with neither of you speaking up. Mingi shifted uncomfortably, clearly trying to read your thoughts.

“If you don’t believe me,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe I need to show you how serious I am.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

Mingi hesitated, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Then, with a deep breath, he stepped closer to you. “Hit me.”

You blinked. “What..?”

“Hit me, punch me, kick me- I don’t care. I won’t stop you,” he said, his face completely serious.

Your eyes widened, trying to process what he was saying. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this wasn’t one of them.

“That’s.. weird, Mingi,” you said, concerned and rightfully confused. “Why would that make me believe you?”

Mingi sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Because I don’t know what else to do,” he said in frustration. “I’m not the bad one, ‘____’, they are. I need you to trust that I had nothing to do with those bombings. If letting you hit me is the only way to get that across.. so be it.”

“What are you-“ His eyes softened as you spoke, almost making you feel.. bad. You shook your head, frowning, trying to make sense of his words.

“Mingi.. punching you isn’t going to change anything. I still don't know if I can trust you anymore.”

Mingi took another step closer to you, placing his hands on his chest. “Please, I don’t know what else I can do.”

You stared at him. It was strange - unbelievably strange. You never thought that you would end up here, not that you were complaining though.

“I mean.. a chance to beat the shit out of an Eternal?,” a wide smirk began to from on your face. “And you’re the General..”

Mingi’s eyes widened in surprise - whether it was from you considering his offer or not, you weren’t sure.

You looked at him carefully, sizing him up. There was something almost absurd about the whole situation. An Eternal, the most respected demons in Hell, was practically begging for you to punch him.

Without waiting for him to react, you threw your fist at him and swung. The punch landed on his face with an impact that sent a wave down your arm. Mingi stumbled back, looking at you in shock as he clutched his cheek.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You really don’t hold back.”

You shook your hand, feeling your knuckles tingling after the punch. “Of course, I’m not like that dog army of yours.”

Mingi scoffed, still rubbing his cheek in disbelief. “Hey, leave them out of this.”

You rolled your eyes. “You're concerned about that right now?”

You watched as he was about to retort but quickly stopped himself, realising the position he was in. For a moment, you considered hitting him again, just for fun, but you held yourself back. After all, you weren’t sure if he would allow it to happen a second time.

“I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt,” you sighed, seeing how his eyes lit up at your words. “But don’t think for a second that this means I trust you completely.”

Mingi nodded, running up to where you were. You managed to get a good look at his face, seeing a nasty scar on the side of his cheek.

“Dang.. I really hit you hard, huh?” you chuckled, running your fingertips along the injury. “I would say sorry but I wouldn’t mean it.”

“Screw you,” he snorted, but there wasn’t any real anger in his voice. He didn’t make any attempts to swat your hands away, even leaning slightly into your touch. “Let’s try and find a way out of here.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Unfortunately, the Palace was littered with guards at every corner. Soldiers were stationed at every corner and exit, making it impossible to leave unnoticed. After what felt like hours of failed attempts, escape only seemed like a distant dream.

Exhausted, you found a secluded spot in the palace - a dimly lit corner tucked away from the main corridors. You leaned against the stone wall, catching your breath as you planned what to do for your next move.

Suddenly, you felt a presence moving towards you.

Without thinking, your instincts kicked in and you swung your fist towards the approaching figure. But before you could land it, a hand shot up, grabbing your wrist mid-air.

“Woah,” he raised his eyebrows, a small smirk tugging on his lips. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yunho?” you exclaimed, your heart racing from his sudden appearance. “What the Hell are you doing here?” you asked as you looked around.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, gently releasing your wrist and putting it to your side.

You took a step back, sitting down on the cold floor that made you flinch. You tried to ignore Yunho, hoping that he would leave. But unfortunately, he sat down right next to you.

There was a short moment of quiet - one where all you could hear was the jagged breathing from you, and the calm breaths of Yunho. You jumped slightly when you heard him break the silence.

“You’ve been up to some interesting things lately,” he began, catching your attention immediately.

You narrowed your eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on.. don’t play dumb,” Yunho turned to you and smirked. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been sneaking around. This Palace has eyes, you know. It’s not that hard to connect the dots.”

You scoffed, picking at your nails. “Well in that case, you don’t know anything.”

Yunho’s smirk faded, replaced by something eerie. “I wouldn’t be too confident,” he said, his words sending shivers down your spine. “I know a lot of things. Like what happened to your office.”

“You-“ Your breath caught in your throat as you whipped your head towards him. “Don’t tell me you were behind the bombings..”

He didn’t deny it.

The silence was stretched uncomfortably long, as if he was savouring your reaction. Finally, he let out a sigh, one that made you want to rip his lungs out. “It was either that or your house. It’s not my fault they picked the ones with more demons in it.”

“Are you insane?” you hissed, pushing yourself off the floor, unable to sit still anymore. “So you blew up my office on purpose, because Walkers were there?”

“It was the only way to keep you in check-“

You groaned in frustration, pacing back and forth the room, trying to stop yourself from punching another Eternal. “You didn’t have to blow up my office! Now what? You’re getting rid of both Halas and Walkers?”

Yunho remained calm, making you more irritated than anything. His eyes merely following your frantic movements as you walked around the room.

“...Why do you care so much about those.. Halas?” he asked, the clear disdain in his voice as he recited their name.

You stopped in your tracks and glared at him. “That was your response to what I just said?” you asked in disbelief.

“They’re pests, they need to be controlled. And yet-“ he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “-You have a soft spot for them.”

You clenched your fists. “They’re not pests. They are innocent demons who did nothing wrong.”

Yunho slowly rose from the ground, stepping closer and closer to you. The space between you two shrank, his presence looming over you.

He leaned down to your ear, whispering, “Do you really believe that?” He sounded almost.. amused - as if he was toying with you.

“Yes,” you snapped, your voice obviously laced with anger. You couldn’t believe the absurd question coming out of his mouth.

Yunho tilted his head, studying you with a curious look. “And you’d do anything to help them?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You looked at him in confusion, his question throwing you off guard. “Why are you asking so much about the Halas?”

Yunho smiled - making your stomach twist with anxiety. “Well.. since the Eternals already know you’re betraying them, what’s the harm in being interested in what you’re doing?”

You felt a wave of fear wash over you as you heard his words. “The- they actually know?” you stammered, feeling your pulse in your ears.

“Of course they do,” he continued. “They’re not stupid, but it’s cute to see how convincing you are. Makes me wonder how far you’ll go.”

You took a step back. “So what now? You’re just waiting to see what I’ll do?”

Yunho shrugged, clearly enjoying how you were becoming more scared by the second. “It takes guts to go against a King. Not sure if I should be worried or impressed.”

“Worried?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You have no reason to be worried.”

Yunho’s gaze softened slightly, becoming more serious about his words than he did before. “You’re going to get yourself killed, '____'. Whether it’s by the Eternals directly or in one of their attacks.. you’re not safe.”

You sighed, searching his eyes for any hints of him joking or lying - but nothing came up. “Why do you care, Yunho? Why do you care about what I’m doing?” you asked, tired of him beating around the bush.

“Honestly?” He paused, considering his words carefully. “It’s getting.. boring.”

You blinked, confused. “Boring..?”

“At first it felt great, you know? Like- we’re finally getting rid of the rats,” he confessed with a grin. “But what’s the point when they can’t fight back? Where’s the fun in that?”

You crossed your arms, staring at him. “So the only reason why you’re talking to me.. is to stir things up?”

“It’s not fair to have a one-sided fight. Why not try and even the odds?” his smirked widened as he leaned in closer once again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll help you make things very interesting…”

You scoffed, ignoring the lingering feeling of his lips brushing against your ear. “What do you get out of this? Some kink thrill of yours?”

He chuckled, his laughs echoing throughout the room. “Do you not want my help?” he asked, the shit-eating smirk still evident on his face.

“You’re not even serious about this,” you sighed, turning to walk away. But before you could take another step, he grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you back just enough to close the distance again.

“Says who?” Yunho’s voice became soft, completely different to how it was earlier. His thumb slowly drew circles on the inside of your wrist, sending a jolt through you. “Having me on your side will be helpful.. and a lot more fun than whatever you’ve got going on.”

You stayed silent for a moment. You wanted to ignore him, walk away without a second thought - but there was something in his voice that made you hesitate.

His smirk turned into something more genuine as he continued. “I’m not your enemy, at least not yet. If you keep pushing, I’m going to reconsider my offer.”

You pulled your wrist from his grasp, the ghost of his fingers remaining as you finally took a step back. “Fine-“ you caved in. “But I’m only doing this because we need as much help as we can get. I don’t trust you.”

Yunho’s normal self returned, his eyes filled with pride and satisfaction. “I’d be surprised if you did,” he replied smoothly. “But who knows? Maybe you’ll start to.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Mingi’s footsteps echoed through the dim corridor as he made his way to Hongjoong’s office. The summon was quite sudden but not unusual for the two, with them mainly discussing about the soldiers and weapons. However, this time, Mingi felt a strange feeling he couldn’t shake off.

He knocked on the door, only entering when he heard Hongjoong’s voice. Hongjoong was seated behind his desk which was scattered with papers. He was fidgeting with a pen in his hand, his face blank and neutral.

Mingi greeted, hoping his voice wasn’t shaky. “Lord Hongjoong-”

“-I’ve been hearing things, General,” Hongjoong began, looking up from his papers. “Things that suggest that you’re not as faithful as you appear.”

Mingi stiffened. “What are you talking about? I’ve done nothing to betray the Eternals.”

Hongjoong’s lips curled into a grin. He stood up, walking closer to the other Eternal. “That’s what you believe, but beliefs can be deceiving, can’t they?”

Mingi felt a chill go down his back as he tried to maintain his composure. He took in a deep breath. “I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

Hongjoong circled him slowly, like a predator toying with a prey. “Loyalty is a fragile thing.. it can be swayed by the slightest breeze, a whisper or..”

“…A Walker.”

Hongjoong took his pen and traced it on the scar that you gave Mingi earlier, a wild smile forming on his face. Mingi stood frozen, his mind and heart both rushing for an answer. “I haven’t betrayed anyone. There must be a misunderstanding-“

“A misunderstanding?” the King cackled as he repeated what the poor Eternal said. “General- I don’t remember the last time you were this scared of me. What happened to the oh so brave soldier I once had?” he asked mockingly.

The King calmed himself down, leaning against his desk. He stood in front of Mingi, his eyes wide with craze. “A misunderstanding.. is that what this is?”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Mingi could feel sweat rolling down his face despite it being a cool 300 degrees in the room.

“I think this is the beginning,” Hongjoong spoke up, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

Mingi’s heart pounded in his chest, not knowing what the King was getting at, but he knew better than to trust the calm face that the Eternal was presenting. “Beginning of what?”

Hongjoong locked his eyes onto Mingi. “The beginning of your fall, General.”

There was a pause - a stare-down between the two Eternals. The air was thick with unspoken threats, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Hongjoong smirked, flicking his wrist. “You’re free to go.”

author’s note: sorry for the slow updates! im kinda just writing this whenever i get the motivation… i but hope that yall enjoy it! any and all feedback appreciated <3

series taglist [OPEN] - @binchanluvrr @hiddlestandom @avantalem @hecateslittlewitchling @iara-ya @thunderous-wolf @jaerisdiction @mallielovssyou @syzygyweeb @dimeb29

[scandinavianfairytale]

Not you again

Pairing: Past Jake Seresin x Reader (they are single parents now)

Warnings: Bullying, Readers daughter punches Jakes son, parents acting like children (they are extremely immature for a moment), mentions of blood, a broken nose, a few curse words, past relationship betwen the parents, betrayal, humiliation, implied loss of virginity

A/N: I'll tag this a 18+ due to sensitive subject! Please heed the warnings!! Reader came from a "wealthy" family from the city & they moved to the village and she was considered a "prude" by her classmates. Hence, her nickname in elementary school was "Prudy".

Driving stressed and angry during rush hour was something you were hoping to avoid in general, especially when you had places to be. For example, at an impromptu meeting with your daughters principal, which you really didn’t want to be late to. Especially not after you got called in because your daughter punched some boy in the face.

"The details will be revealed once you are present."

The only reason your daughter would ever punch someone was if they were hurting her, and she asked them to stop. Which was something you tried explaining to the principal only for it to fall on deaf ears.

And now here you were, honking at the idiot who just blew past an obvious red light and nearly ran you off the road.

Pissed off you parked in front of the school and hurriedly walked across the hallway to the office you knew belonged to the principal. As you entered you realized that only your daughter and the boy she punched were in the office with the principal.

"Honey, are you okay?" You asked your seven year old, worryingly.

"I'm okay." The girl nodded with a small smile. You patted her head and turned to the principal.

"Where are the other parents?"

"His dad is on his way." The principal responded and pointed to the empty chair between your daughter and the boy. As you sat down, you finally looked at the boy, and you realized he looked familiar, but you couldn't really place his face.

"Are you okay?" You asked the boy.

"Let's wait for the dad and then we can proceed." The principal smiled at you. She was a polite lady and your experience with her were positive, which is why you were so curious to know why this meeting was even needed.

You made small talk with the principal for a few minutes before the door opened again and the dad entered. Turning around, your mouth fell open.

No wonder you found the boy familiar. He was an exact copy of his stupid dad.

"Is that you, Prudy?" His stupid smirk was still stupid.

"Seresin. You have got to be fucking kidding me." Immediately covering your mouth at the obscenities that came out as a default. Your daughter started cackling but immediately stopped as soon as you looked at her.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"So, you two know each other?" The principal asked.

"We went to elementary and high school together." Jake smirked as he sat down, ruffling the hair of his son. "How have you been?" He asked and your jaw tensed.

Out of all the people.

"Mrs. Thompson, can we please hurry this along, I don't want to be here for longer than necessary." You stewed in your seat.

"Right. I don't know the whole extent of the conflict, but it seems that your son has been bullying your daughter." Mrs Thompson pointed between the children.

"Like father, like son." You mumbled under your breath. Mrs Thompson glared at you before she continued.

"And then your daughter punched your son in the face, breaking his nose."

"Good job, Sweetie." You beener at your daughter.

"Good job?" Jake piped up. "She broke his nose."

"It'll heal. It's just cartilage." You dismissed it.

"It's not just that." The principal turned to you. "This school has zero tolerance for violence, which-"

"Stop, I know where you're going with this." You interjected and turned to your daughter.

"Violet, tell me...us, what has been going on."

"Well...Timothy has been mean. He's hiding things from me, calling me names. He pushed me off the swing yesterday and I asked him to stop, but he started laughing at me." Violet avoided your eyes. Softly putting your hand on her shoulder, you tried soothing her.

"I didn't mean to hurt him so much, mommy, but he threw a rock at me and it cut me and you told me I can punch anyone who is trying to harm me if they don't listen." Violet started crying. "And he wasn't listening. He just kept laughing, so-so-so I punched him."

"Honey." You cooed. "You did the right thing."

"Okay, you need to stop praising your daugther, this was not the right thing to do." Jake rolled his eyes.

"That's rich coming from the man that us raising his child to be just like him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You were just like him. You're the reason why I told Violet to punch her bullies in the face. That's what I should've done to you. Maybe it's not too late, though." You threatened.

"Okay, you two, outside!" Mrs Thompson yelled.

The three adults left the room and the principal carefully closed the door, angrily turning to the parents.

"You need to stop acting like children, this is not your elementary school anymore, these are your children who are hurting. Start acting like the adults." The principal paused. "Now, I'm going back in and I will sort it out on my own. In the meantime, you two talk it out and when you are ready to act your age, come back inside and I will tell you what my conclusion is."

Crossing your arms, you glared at Jake.

"Look, Prudy, Mrs Thompson is right, we shouldn't be acting this way." Jake sighed and ran his hand over his hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't know this was happening."

You cautiously observed him.

"I'm not like I was all those years ago, I don't encourage violence, and I'm trying to be there for Timothy, but ever since his mom left..." He paused, sighing again. "We've both been going through it."

"I'm sorry." You offered.

"It's fine, I'm processing it, but Timothy's clearly not. I saw some changes in him, but he said he was fine, so I just left it at that."

"Look, I'm really sorry for what happened, but I stand by what I said to Violet. And I am not going to let her apologize, because she did the right thing." Jake wanted to object, but you shushed him. "Violet is not going to be the victim, I'm not letting her get the same treatment as I did. I'm going to let bullying control her life like it did mine."

"I told her it's okay to fight back, but only after she asked and asked to be left alone. After that she has my permission to stand up for herself and I will not let her apologize for that, no matter what the reason for bullying was."

"You need to stop blaming me for your life." Jake rolled his eyes.

"Oh make no mistake, I have a good life and I worked very fucking hard for it, but I had to go through years of therapy because of the bullying. I know it's not your fault, but I will not let my daughter make the same mistakes I did. I didn't stand up for myself, I let you and others take away my self-worth, and I just kept on coming back because I so desperately wanted to belong. And you took advantage of that. Every single day."

"Yet you still dated me for six months." He scoffed.

"And where did that get us?"

"You took everything from me. I hate you!" You screamed at him, tears burning your cheeks. Your His friends laughed at your outburst.

"Oh come on, Prudy, you had a good time, didn't you? Those little moans were a good clue." Jake mocked. His smirk vanished as you slapped him and everyone fell silent. You stared at each other and you calmed down.

"Karma is a bitch, Seresin and one day it'll catch up with you." You stormed away. No one ever saw you again.

He kept thinking of that sentence as his wife left him, when he was fired, when his grandfather died suddenly. He kept wandering if that was what you were talking about all those years ago.

"Jake, I know your dad was abusive. I know why you did what you did. We hashed it out years ago. But that was before we had kids. That was before your kid bullied my kid." You sighed, letting your arms fall to your sides. "But keep in mind that Timothy is a child and what he's doing is in consequence to his home life. So, if you don't want him to be like you, look in the mirror and make better choices." You reached for the door handle, but turned around.

"And one more thing, if Timothy keeps harassing Violet, she will get permission to do more than just punch." You entered the principal's office, staring at the two kids. You found it ironic how history tends to repeat itself.

Crouching down to the kids level, you smiled at them. "Timothy, why are you picking on Violet?" You asked in a soft voice.

"I hate violets." Timothy pouted and crossed his arms.

"Violets were his mothers favorite flowers." Jake commented as he entered the room. He crouched down as well, leaning his forhead to his sons.

"Buddy...your mom leaving-" Jake ran out of words and you patted his back. He spared you a glance.

"You can't pick on Violet just because you miss your mom." He firmly told his son.

"I don't miss mom!" Timothy yelled, but tears welled in his eyes.

"Your mom didn’t leave you. She left me. It broke her heart to leave you behind, but...it's adult stuff, Timmy. I'll tell you about it when you're older, okay? Right now, you need to know that your mom and I love you so much. You know how much?" Jake waited with a small smile playing on his lips.

"To the moon and back." Timothy started crying and he hugged his father. "I'm sorry Violet." He sobbed.

"That's right, Buddy, to the moon and back." Jake soothed his son as he cried in his arms, stroking his back and quietly shushing him, trying to calm him down.

When Timothy calmed down, Jake sat him down on the seat and he sat down next to him.

"Is everyone okay?" The principal asked and all four nodded.

"While you two were out, I talked to Timothy and Violet and I decided that neither Violet nor Timothy will be suspended. However, I will make them work together on assignments so they form a friendship. Is that okay?"

"If it's okay with Violet and Timothy, then I am okay with it too." You nodded and Jake agreed.

"Okay then, everyone is excused."

"Hey...do you want to grab a coffee?" Jake scratched the back of his head as you two were left alone at the entrance of the school.

"No offence Seresin, but I still don't want to be anywhere near you." You put on your sunglasses and walked away from him.

"I'm sorry. You know I had to do it." He pleaded as you were throwing your things in a suitcase. You couldn't believe he had the nerve to come to your house and that your mom let him in.

"No Seresin, you didn't have to do it. You chose to humiliate me. Just like all those times before. You always had a choice. And you always chose to hurt me." Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to cry. You cried enough.

"Please, believe me. I love you." Jake grabbed your shoulders, trying to emphasize his point and immediately letting you go as another slap stung his cheek.

"What is wrong with you?" You asked him, your eyes wild. "Do you think this is a game? This is my life, Jake! You can't toy with me to make yourself feel better. I trusted you. I gave myself to you." You spoke with disgust. "And you just took and took and then made a fool out of me."

"You make me sick. I never want to see you again." The way you spoke made his realize how serious you were. So he left.

Thank you for reading! 🥰😊

The GIF doesn't belong to me, belongs to the amazing creator 😊

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

The Devil You Know (Part 1) - The First Sin

Pairing: Demon! Captain John Price x Reader

(No use of y/n)

Warnings: This series will contain scenes of a violent and sexual nature, I will be more specific as I write more parts.

Summary: Reader is a soldier hanging on to their last gasp of life, trying to summon a demon associated with soldiers and battlefields in order to aid them. Unluckily for you though, the demon isn't interested in a short term deal. He finds himself quite attached to you, and he doesn't want to let you go.

-🔥-

Disembodied hands shook wildly as they set about their terrible task. At least that’s how it seemed to you - appendages moving around a blurred screen, drawing dirtied red symbols with panicked uncertainty. You swiped another slick fingerful of your blood into the dusty concrete and clenched your aching teeth together, finishing off the last curve of the sigil with a snakish hiss.

 “I call to you…with the blood of my battle wounds. Jo- Jotan, I will be your willing servant.”

You looked around, eyes darting wildly for movement or any sign that your ridiculous little saving grace had worked. Though nothing happened. You blinked feverishly, feeling your lip wobble at first and then your entire body shake as you absorbed the facts in front of you. You were actually going to die. 

A cackle broke out into the room, competing with the baying gunshots outside to break the walls of the decaying shell of a building. It was you. You were finally losing your mind, absorbing the facts in front of you with detached horror.

Perhaps the ruins were an office before, but now it was the final resting place of a desperate lunatic who’d decided to decorate their sepulchre before laughing themselves into death’s arms. The cruelty of it burned in your throat and stang at your eyes, soon searing hot tears into the ruined flesh of your cheeks.

It was a foolish last ditch effort anyway, you mused, collapsing onto your back in the middle of the blood seal. A stupid myth you’d clung to in a final attempt to save your life, a ritual told to you by someone that was long dead themself. If they presumably hadn’t bothered to use it, then why would it do you any good? 

“Oh dear…I’m not too late am I?” cooed a soft rumbling voice. 

Your eyes opened wide, the owner of the call demanding to be seen. That murmur fizzled in your ears and vibrated in your blood, forcing your hands to scrabble at the ground and set you into a sitting position again. 

When you finally rose, you were held in place by the stranger. His onyx black eyes pinned you into place, watching you twitching and panting like a caught mouse. Apparently you amused him with this. His lips pulled into a grin, revealing a row of white teeth that curved into points at the canines and outer incisors, it was the smile of a predator. As if he needed to advertise any more warning signs. 

His body was big and broad, his chest a large plane of solid flesh dusted with soot and soft dark hair that matched his bristly beard and hickory hued hair. His large arms were decorated with similar etchings to the ones you’d messily painted, both of them circled in two iron bands at the bicep and forearms, they looked like they could crack teeth in a pinch. There were also a few bands on the thick dark tail that waved behind him too, a detail you only noticed as it seemed to lovingly caress the shadows around his legs.

It was what finally confirmed for you that this was him. The fabled demon of battlefields - Jotan. 

“You came,” you whispered.

“You called,” he returned, tilting his head at you. “Surprised you managed to complete the circle. You’ve lost a lot of blood, Sergeant.”

“I…I have,” you replied, feeling another wave of nausea roll through you. 

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that?” he said, mouth twisting into a wry half smile. 

It was almost worse than when you’d seen his fanged teeth. He looked positively ready to devour you, his gleaming eyes fixed on you like a tiger. You were just waiting for him to pounce, breath catching in your dry throat as you anticipated the killing bite. Suddenly you’d forgotten that it was you that called the terrible entity here, that he was supposed to be serving you rather than terrifying you. 

“C’mon now, Love. You clearly knew enough about the ritual to get me here…aren’t you going to follow through?” he prompted, leaning down to meet you at your level. “It’s rude to keep a demon waiting, you know.”

His arms folded over his dark trousers, crossing over each other at his lap as if he were asking you to do something so completely mundane. He tilted his head at you again, flicking his eyes up to the doorway on the other side of the room as it started to shudder and bang. Voices were worming their way through the debris, shouts blasting in through the cracks. 

Bang, bang, bang.

You didn’t have much time. Not that your body would be able to hold on much longer anyway. 

“I want you to- please…take me back to exfil. Get me the fuck out of here and safely back to base and I’ll do whatever you want,” you said, voice cracking as you made your plea. “Ask anything you want from me, Jotan. Just get me the fuck away from here.”

His eyes curved into shadowed moons, once again he beamed at you. It felt like the stifling room heated a few more degrees. To add insult to injury your lungs began to struggle, it felt like your body was in its last stages of failing.

You briefly wondered if all this just might be a delusion. Maybe your head was presenting you with him as a way to cope with being turned to pink mist by the men that still called from the door outside, as a way to forget about your torn up arms that’d been sliced open by the bombings, and the bullet hole that had been weeping silently in your leg.

Bang, bang, bang.

“I’ll tell you what…I’m feelin’ generous,” the demon murmured, reaching out and forcing your chin up with in his charred fingers. “I’ll take you back to base, just like you want. And now…I could ask for your soul in return, for you to be my eternal servant when you do meet your end, and I really could have you do anything for me. However I won’t do that. Instead, I want to lend you my power. Just for today. That is my only offer.”

You frowned, a million racing thoughts crashing through your mind all at the same time. You’d made peace with the fact he’d ask for something awful, known it even. This clearly had to be a trick. Nevertheless, your head throbbed perilously and the door and furniture you’d messily propped in front of it were going to give way.You didn't have much time. 

Bang, bang, bang.

“What will I do with your power?” you asked desperately, looking from him and to the end of the room. 

“Let me worry about that,” he chuckled. “I’ll guide you, Sergeant. All you have to do is agree…that or let them flood in and kill you.”

Bang, bang, bang.

He motioned to the thundering door and raised his brows at you. At that point his dark eyes were like vortexes, they dragged you into his orbit and had you falling under his spell. You knew logically that whatever was going to happen was going to change the course of your life forever - and not for the good. Even then, you couldn’t find the strength to deny him, couldn’t hold enough faith in a glorious next life to accept that you’d leave this one. 

“Fine! I accept,” you said, eyes wet and heavy. 

An animal growl rattled through your bones and shuddered throughout the skeleton remains of the office space. Your body flinched back, responding just as your instincts wanted, but the demon didn’t allow you to retreat. He was quick - arms lashing out and moving like a whip. He gripped your neck like a farmer does to his chickens come dinner time, and just when you were ready for the snap, your body jerked violently. 

You forced yourself to your feet, no, you surged upwards like you were under possession. Your legs didn’t feel like they’d buckle anymore, they felt renewed. Your heartbeat was steady like a punctual train, and your breathing returned to normal, better than normal even. Everything in you felt like it was new, like someone had taken out your broken parts and given you an upgrade. You smiled, lips curling over your teeth unnaturally.

Wait- were those…fangs poking into your bottom lip?

Bang!

There was no time to wonder at the strange way your mouth felt. Your head jerked up and suddenly you were greeted with the second worst sight of the day. The enemy soldiers had you surrounded, they flooded into the room like a locust swarm and pointed their guns at you, faithfully looking toward their Captain for the authority to execute. 

Normally you would’ve shuddered, or maybe even fallen to the floor, but you held fast. Your breathing remained calm, but your vision went dark. That’s not to say you passed out, but a thick hazy filter seemed to descend across your eyes. Then just when you were about to question it, your arms reached out as if you were being puppeteered and your entire body unwillingly  shot forward. 

There was no time to even think to connect your actions to the seemingly absent demon then. Instead you latched onto the soldier in front of you like a bear and sank your teeth into his neck. The man screamed, and yelped, and made all sorts of inhuman noises as he struggled to try and pull you off. Though there was no helping him. You continued to bite at his arteries and savage him until his screams were silent and overtaken by the men around him. 

Gunshots rang out, but none pierced you. Men beat at your back and pulled at your arms, but you didn’t break your hold. Copper filled your mouth, but you didn’t spit. You smiled with glee and licked at your own salty tears, disengaging from your target only when you were ready.

Little did you know, this was only the beginning of the butchery. 

-🔥-

“For fuck sake, get yersel’ to the sink ye riot!”

You jumped out of your thoughts and hazarded a quick look up to your worried manager, following that up by nodding silently and running off to the bathroom. Fuck. All that you could do was grimly stare down at the blood while it merged with the clean tap water and remind yourself that it was fine. You weren’t outside the wire anymore, you were just wait staff in a small restaurant, and you didn’t need to worry about bleeding out anymore because the biggest hazard you faced now was apparently picking up a dirty knife the wrong way. 

“Fucking hell,” you chuckled, quietly facing yourself in the mirror and taking a pause from the gory scene below. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

For a second, so quick you only just registered it, black eyes flashed behind you. You jumped back and hyperventilated, doing everything you could to stop yourself from screaming. Though it couldn’t be helped. You forced your hands over your mouth and yelled a muffled cry into your palms instead and rode out your panicked heartbeats until you could be sure you wouldn’t collapse. 

You did a double take, searching the mirror for those horrible eyes or any other signs of their proprietor. However, there was nothing else to see but a pathetic ex soldier, black tile and cheap imitation herringbone wood flooring. Suddenly you felt absolutely ridiculous. 

You slipped your hands from your mouth and covered your eyes instead, rubbing at hideously embarrassing tears with anger. That stupid therapist you were going to was so wrong, you thought bitterly, you were never going to make progress. You constantly swore that you could see those demonic eyes wherever you went, and sometimes you even thought you saw him. Well not the demon exactly, but a man that so closely resembled him - just without the tail and black eyes. 

It’d been a full year since you’d been honourably discharged from the military, and even in all that time, you still hadn’t healed. Sure, the cuts and bullet wounds had made miraculous progress and faded to tiny scars, but inside you may as well have been a shooting range dummy right at the end of target practice. While your superiors had seen fit to dedicate you with a medal for the miraculous fight you put up against the enemy, your head still hadn’t gotten to grips with just how you did it. 

Multiple therapists had put it down to repressed memory. They told you that whatever had really happened must’ve been replaced with that accursed demon summoning ritual that you dreamed up in an adrenaline filled haze. They said you might remember it all eventually once you’d healed more, or even that you might never get the answers you sought. There was no footage from your vest cam, and no other eyewitnesses left alive to say what had happened. Just you and your janky, wacky memories.

“Hey, Riot! You gonna come back on shift anytime soon or do I have to explain to Marco why the big bad ex-soldier is dying over a little cut?”

You turned to the door and smiled to yourself, feeling your chest grow lighter the second you heard that voice. Emily always knew how to pull you out of a funk. With that in mind, you shook your head, felt your goosebumps retreat away and stepped out into the scorching warmth of the restaurant. Once more back into the fray. 

“The big bad ex-soldier had a lot of blood coming out that little cut,” you shrugged, “can’t be creating a healthcode violation, you know that.”

Emily raised one of her thick dark eyebrows in question and put her hands on her hips. Oh no, this was the serious stance. In fairness, the tables were mobbed that night and she’d been run off her feet by two difficult tables that were ‘not getting acceptable service by any definition of the word’ as one of them had apparently said. 

“Put a blue plaster on it and get back out here before I give you a real war wound,” she growled. 

Your eyes widened, but you still smiled despite yourself. 

“You’re the boss!”

You rushed off to do as she said, ready to come back out and assist her, and if necessary neutralise any threat to her sanity. Emily was one of the few people you’d reconnected with after coming back home, and anyone that messed with her henceforth, was now messing with you. 

She’d seen you out and about at the park one day, taking one of your ‘haunted walks’ as she called them - only because you had trouble sleeping and would walk around in a black hoodie with the hood up. It was like something clicked, after being so reluctant to share anything with your family, or military buddies that tried to reach out, it was like you’d found your key. You’d babbled to her about how badly you were struggling to adjust to civilian life, leaking your frustrations like a bled radiator, and she accepted you. She listened without pity. 

Now while you wound a plaster round your silly little cut, you watched her zoom round the tables with true gratitude. She was the only reason you’d gotten the job, and been able to integrate back into real life. As much as you had your moments of frustrations, and had brief run ins with your PTSD, you at least had something to distract yourself with. Something that grabbed your attention and set your breathing straight again, when before you would curl in the corner of your room and scream for many minutes at a time. 

Once the plaster was affixed, you fiddled with the cracked old first aid box and wrangled it shut, stowing it back into place with a thud before rushing back out to the floor. The smell of garlic and pasta filled your senses, and the voices of the patrons roared rapturously in your ears again. The normal hustle and bustle of the place set you back into your rhythm and the ramped up tempo sent you hurtling toward the kitchen. 

“Where’ve you fucking been?” one of the chefs groused, “we’ve got a million plates for table ten here that need serving! I can hear them bitching from here, get moving!”

“Had a little accident getting the plates to Frankie,” you said, motioning to the plaster and your fraught KP behind the pass. “Good to go now!”

Rather than stay to hear the chef's curses, you rushed off with the plates and delivered them to the table, plastering on a smile as the customers moaned up a storm to your face. After offering them your apologies and promises of free sides, they hushed up and all was good again. You tended to your other tables and resumed duty as normal, rotating around Emily and the other waiter, Michael, like little clockwork toys. You all ticked along perfectly, leaving full stomachs and mostly happy faces in your wake. 

“Can you take this to table thirteen, please? I gotta piss like crazy!”Micheal ordered. 

He handed you a steak that was positively dripping in blood, almost setting you off again were it not for the fact that you were so confused by his request. There’s potatoes and salad and sauce on that plate, you thought to yourself, its not a body, just a hunk of meat.

“There isn’t a table thir-” you started, soon trailing off. 

Michael had long since dashed off before you could correct him and you sighed to yourself. Great, now who on earth could this be for? You knew every table in the restaurant of course, your knowledge on the place was near perfect with Emily acting like a drill sergeant during your probation stages. However, you didn’t know where thirteen could be, because it didn’t exist. Most people knew that restaurants skipped that number because it was unlucky. Apparently not Michael though. 

“I believe that’s for me,” called a rumbling voice. 

You frowned and looked down to the man before you, startling as you realised that a table had been placed where it shouldn’t have, and in turn you were standing right over a poor customer. No wonder Michael had made the mistake, you had no idea where the table had even come from. Though you were too embarrassed to worry very much about that in the moment, you needed to recover in front of the man before you made an idiot out of yourself. 

“Apologies, sir,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a busy night. Can I get you anything else?”

You placed down the food in front of him and were glad for it after you’d made eye contact. There was something strange about the man that made you jump. His stunning blue eyes captured your gaze and made you feel like you were in the middle of a laser sight. You gulped and looked away for a second afterward, trying your best to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” the man said softly, still fixing his eyes on you. “This is perfect.”

His sly grin struck you as familiar, but when you studied the man more, you couldn’t place him. He had a dark peacoat draped over his chair and wore a black shirt and fitted jeans. His beard was trim and cut close to his jawline, and his hair was near perfect, combed back neatly over his head. Everything about him was perfectly ordinary, perhaps would’ve been completely innocuous if not for his eyes. 

You could’ve sworn there was a little black band circling the pupil, but just as you thought you’d lost yourself in them he chuckled at you. Causing your face to flame up in burning shame. 

“I’m so sorry for staring,” you apologised, holding your hands up in appeasement. “I don’t know what that was about, sorry. You just seemed familiar for a sec.”

“Oh really?” he laughed, “Don’t happen to know a Jonathan Price do you?”

“Jonathan Price?” you repeated questioningly.

“My name, sweetheart,” he grinned, showing off his pointy canines. “Though you can just call me John if you like.”

“Oh my god, my brain’s going tonight,” you laughed, trying to get yourself away from him and the bloody steak that seemed to ooze with every passing second. “I’ll stop bothering you now, Jonathan! Enjoy your steak.”

His name sat heavy on your tongue, as if a fizzy sweetie had stung at the nerves and left it swollen and red. Jonathan. There was something about it that didn’t fit right. An unnatural force wanted you to turn round and call him a liar, demand that he reveal himself for who he really was. 

Though you didn’t put much credence in unnatural forces anymore. Not when unnatural forces tended to be symptoms of your mental illness. Instead you shook your head and kept working, making a note to yourself that you needed to get more sleep that night. Sleep and meds usually helped, and you were praying that they’d set you right again the next day. 

[gaia-001]

I noticed everyone are posting their favourite parts of the newest song of Moon, "Lights Off", so I guess it's my turn now! 🌙💙

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

The daycare at night/naptime, it's so beautiful! Especially the soft glow it made the moon cardboard!

Tells me I'm not the only one who wanted to smooch this stupid face! Look at him!

The way he protects himself from the bright lights, baby!!

Beautiful boy

One of my theories says that the DCA boys still have some theatre programming left in them, so....THEATRE BOYO SPOTTED!!

PLEASE, the high pitched "Boo-ooh-oh!" I cackled so bad! He's such a goober! (Gregory 💩 his pants here)

Closer look to the details of Moon's shoes, the stitching star attached to his shoes and the way he's built! I love this so much!

Despite my hate for Gregory, this little brat over here, managed to avoid Moon's pounce like a pro, look at this! Also Moon goes WEEE here hahaha

How the fu- Moon managed to slip inside that little hole!? 🤔 But still, MoonSpider spotted his prey

First person!! We see the world with Moon's eyes! I love this part a lot, also Gregory managed to knock out Moony twice! You little- *angry noises*

Second Part Down Below! (Reach the limit of the images NAURRR)

[fairlyabookie]

Down Bad

Author's note: totally not inspired by ZB1's "Good So Bad" - this song is very shojo-coded fr fr...

Content: wholesome

Deuce tries to play it cool with his feelings now that he realizes how much he likes you; one minute, he’s totally fine talking to you, and the other, he’s freaking out in the inside - his mind on overdrive when he notices small details from interacting with you. He’d stumble on his words, tripping on minuscule things, earning cackles from onlookers (of course, Ace, too) 

His brain must’ve reset itself whenever he thinks of you: indescribable words drifting about his mind, the urge to declare his feelings intense yet.. Even if he could voice it out, he couldn’t express his heart properly. Words didn’t suffice, and so, he brought himself into doing small activities that would surely reciprocate his feelings to you. 

Every move he’d overthink: was this the proper way of doing things? Was he overdoing it? Much to the advice of his peers, he was on the right track, but what if [Reader] didn’t realize the meaning of his actions? What if they thought he was doing so just because they were his friend? 

Such thoughts brought dread to Deuce; he can’t absolutely mess this opportunity up! He had to ask his peers about this troubling dilemma: what would they do if they were in this situation? How would they approach this? Would they be satisfied by the results? Such differing answers from them would confuse the poor boy - maybe, just maybe, he can think of something for himself to do this. 

On a twilight-tinged sky, Deuce consults [Reader] for a moment of their time, cyan eyes conveying nothing but crystallized conviction. He was going to do what he knew best for this sort of thing, and he hoped he could do this right.  

At first, Ace feared the worst; Oh Great Seven, do I have to step up on my game? You see, his previous relationship wasn’t really all sunshine and rainbows - just teenagers being stupid and thinking love was like a fairytale. Oh no, he learned the hard way that he had to sustain this ‘love’ and make it worth his while and [Reader]’s while.

Unlike Deuce, he keeps himself tight-lipped about this; though he quite thinks that he has this reciprocity game in the bag. Yeah no, he is ditching what he did on his previous relationship. If anything, he had some lessons to learn if he wanted to make this right. 

To his defense, his first relationship was him experimenting; nothing too serious  - the other party would think otherwise. Taking his previous relationship as an example was a stupid idea - this time, [Reader] was actually a good friend rather than a stranger trying to kiss up to Ace. 

At first, Ace would try to ignore his feelings, going through his day normally as if nothing happened; yet, a different story behind closed doors. He’d search the web for answers to his stupid question about confessing to someone whom he was already close with. Much to his disappointment, the Internet was very unreliable, replying with comments to reject his friend’s confession and continue their relationship as it is. Ace knew he shouldn’t have voiced his worries on the web. 

I hope to make this relationship last long and be a better one than the last, he thinks to himself. The boy knew better than to repeat his mistakes, and he’d rather avoid doing all the cheesy crap and hang out with [Reader] as usual. Gosh, why did feelings make things so complicated?

The first thought that came to mind when he felt his heart pitter-patter: is this how love in those stories feels? He cannot make the words himself, but sure, he knew how those books would describe it: heads over heels, head on cloud nine, tunnel vision for their loved one. The young man understood what that meant. 

He is fascinated by this sensation, noticing how his heart quickened whenever he saw [Reader]’s bright smile from the corner of his eye, or when [Reader]’s laughter would ring out true whenever he was with them. Needless to say, Epel was smitten. 

Word would spread like wildfire in the Pomefiore dorm that Epel was in love, bringing to the attention of Vil and Rook, who both gave each other an understanding glance before concluding on a common understanding: Epel had truly grown up. Yet, this didn’t mean the end of their teachings. 

Vil and Rook had to make sure Epel was still consistent with his routine, straighten his posture, and instill the same composure he always did before. As much as Epel found these routines outrageously tedious, his feelings brought new resolve to him and his daily activities - he will get stronger for the sake of [Reader], to show them his best charms. 

Epel couldn’t possibly wait for the ‘perfect’ moment when he becomes a stronger mage, but rather, he wants [Reader] to be part of his journey of becoming stronger, to see him as he is as well as he sees as them as they are. 

Am I dying? Thought Sebek as he startles from his brief slumber, visions of a sweet dream with [Reader] dissipating in the darkness. Something was amiss: heart palpitations, his cheeks burning at a stray thought - even spacing out in the middle of class! How unacceptable! 

The infallible Sebek being distracted was unspeakable, and he’d reprimand himself for stooping so low to have his emotions get involved in his day-to-day life; He figured that he dealt with this ordeal himself - no troubling Malleus or Lilia about his dilemma, as if he thought he was capable enough to resolve by himself. 

Yet, it didn’t take long for Sebek to connect two and two together: the culprit of this dilemma was none other than [Reader] themselves - a profound revelation as he was captivated by them and their charms. He refused to acknowledge that he was entrapped in this web of ‘love’, withholding sentiments locked in his heart that were for his close friend to know.

As precious as these feelings are, Sebek found himself handling something akin to glass, a manifestation of time spent with [Reader] that only grew stronger and stronger until Sebek himself was bewildered by himself and his predicament. He floats in between the choices of confessing or keeping to himself, not wanting to trouble [Reader] with this emotion in case they ever had a change of heart. He comes up with an idea and hopes for the best. 

In Ramshackle Dorm, a certain individual receives letters professing their love for [Reader], attempts of poetry listed upon the heart of the letter as the letter delves into a story as to what garnered such feelings. Each letter [Reader] receives is adorably endearing, each one showing the voice of a naive individual who is confused, wanting to see [Reader] but at the same time, split between the paths of their position and their livelihood as a student. One day, [Reader] writes back, a patient response to the abundance of letters someone left behind for them to read. 

[cloudcountry]

Hi Auburn! Been thinking about the 1.8K event, and finally, after days of pondering; I have come to a conclusion.

For the Harveston Sledathon event, I think it would have been really cute if MC built a massive snow fort and absolutely SMACKED a sled boi of your choice in the face with snowballs. Just more fun winter hijinks and MC gets to start it. It can be platonic or romantic; whatever feels best/natural to you!

*aka it's hot here and I feel like Jack in the Tamashina event*

IDIA DESERVES TO GET SMACKED.

also i feel about its sooooo fucking hto in my room right nwo im so MAD.

its romantic bc i think it would be funny if idia crushed really hard on someone that just teased him constantly LMAO

once again if you see any typos NO YOU DONT

IDIA "WET CAT" SHROUD GETS PELTED WITH FROZEN WATER (1.8k details)

A cold shock smacks Idia right on the back of the neck, and he shrieks when snow falls into his warm coat. He hears you cackling from behind him, and as he whips around to face you, he comes face-to-face with another snowball.

Jade chuckles beside him at your antics, and Epel says something to the effect of “you’re on” as Sebek screeches, but all Idia can look at is you as you throw your head back and laugh at him. It shouldn’t be so attractive to him that you’re so competitive and start stupid competitions like this, but he can’t bring himself to yell at you like he would anyone else.

“Aren’t you going to join them? They seem to have singled you out.” Jade hums, staring at Idia with glittering eyes that scream danger.

Does Jade know? Or is he just pretending to know?! What would Azul do with the information that Idia has a pathetic little crush on the Prefect that enjoys teasing him relentlessly about the silliest of things?

“They just like picking on me, that’s all.” Idia shakes his head and huffs, trying to hide his hair under his hat (which is rapidly turning pink as he speaks), “You...You know, like normies do. I knew I never should have left my room, this whole trip was a bad idea.”

“Oh? Are you certain?” Jade hums, tilting his head to the side as he smiles his unnerving smile, “I was under the impression that their boldness and confidence had you enamored. Was I perhaps...incorrect?”

“Yes!” Idia yelps, a response that comes far too soon for it to be the truth.

Satisfied, Jade steps away.

“Well then. It would be a shame if the Prefect were to hear about you hating them.” Jade sighs mournfully, “If only your feelings were the opposite.”

Idia knows what he’s doing.

He knows what game Jade is playing.

And yet as the mereel walks away, he makes a noise that sounds like a strangled cough and runs to talk to you before Jade can.