#i feel like this should not need a disclaimer
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thefaithfulnightwriter ¡ 2 days ago
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𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 | ❝ I should have hugged you tighter and longer the last time I saw you. ❞
❝ It's you. It's always been you. ❞
Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel's mate is banished to another world by Amarantha. To a world she never knew existed. To a different world called Zenithara. She finds herself being stuck in Zenithara for many years. And as more time passes it leads her to giving up hope to ever get back to her family, her mate. It changes her living in such a world. She never once felt safe in Zenithara. But one day when she is given a mask. She finds herself feeling safe and concealed from the world. It gave her a sense of strength and power. Which leads her to persevere in the new world she was in.
But what will happen when she finds herself being sent back to her old world Prythian, to her home in Velaris? What will happen when she is finally reunited with her family… her mate?
Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc
Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Warnings -  Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Gore, Death, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Weapons, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of War, Things Will Be Changed, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.
Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. I also got some inspiration from some movies and tv shows. So if you see anything familiar.  But i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.
Author's Note - i really hope you like this fic. i gotta say this fic is very challenging for me because of the world building around it and what not. but i do love it. i hope you guys do too. that is all i can think to say lol.
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"He loves me even after all this time?"
"Do you still love me even after all these years?"
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───── chapter one ─────
───── chapter two ─────
───── chapter three ─────
───── chapter four ─────
───── chapter five ─────
───── chapter six ─────
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saythenametotheworld ¡ 3 days ago
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Foolish One | h.rj
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A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?
ONE | two | three | four | five
Genre: crush-at-first-sight, college AU Pairing: Huang Renjun x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, language, the plot is dragged out a bit lol Notes: 17k words. Part 1 of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Genuinely, let me know what you guys think of this. I am very open-minded to constructive criticism. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: 1 2 3 by NCT DREAM, Risk by Gracie Abrams, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift, Foolish One by Taylor Swift
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“Wishful thoughts forgot to mention when something's really not right”
The campus library was quieter than you expected for a Tuesday afternoon during exam week, the kind of silence that made your every move feel amplified and noticeable. You were feeling self-conscious, wondering if everyone was noticing you standing awkwardly at the front desk while the librarian refused to check out the book you wanted to borrow. But the embarrassment didn’t bother you as much as the growing panic in your chest. You really needed this book right now so you could do a last minute study before your exam in thirty minutes.
Clutching a notebook against your chest, you gave the librarian a pleading look. “Please? Just this once?”
“I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that without your student ID,” the librarian said, her tone polite but firm. “You know how it works right? We need it for the record.”
You gave a tight smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Isn’t there any way to bypass that? I mean, don’t you have librarian privileges, something like that? Please, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get to my apartment for my ID, and another fifteen to come back here.”
The librarian sighed, taking her glasses off and setting it down on her desk. She gave you a stern look. “I know you’re desperate, but I can’t just bend the rules even if I want to. Especially not for a student who’s negligent enough to forget her ID at home when you should be carrying it on your person at all times.”
You were about to protest when a smooth and calm voice spoke from behind you. “Here use mine.”
You turned to see a boy holding out his ID card. Silvery blond hair brushed lightly across his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the library lights. The thin-framed glasses resting on his nose didn’t hide the sharp clarity in his gaze—calm, observant, and entirely unbothered by the chaos you were exuding. His expression was calm as if lending his card to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made you even more flustered.
“Oh,” you said, blinking at him. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”
He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you’re about to cry.”
Letting out a sheepish laugh, you took the card and handed it to the librarian. “I mean, I was just about to, actually,” you quipped.
It didn’t even take two minutes for the librarian to check out the book. You returned his ID, your gaze catching his name—Huang Renjun—before handing it back.
“Here. And, uh, thanks again.”
“No problem,” he said, smiling before taking his turn to check out his books. “Good luck with your exam.”
“Thanks. You too,” you replied. As he went to talk to the librarian, you stood there for a moment, hesitating, wanting to say more, or to ask him something—anything—but you had stuff to do. The exam wasn’t going to study itself.
You rushed out of the library, muttering his name under your breath and telling yourself not to forget about the cute boy with the silvery blond hair and an ID he didn’t hesitate to lend.
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It’s your second semester as a freshman, and so far, you could say you weren’t the type of student to get caught up in the grind of academics. You took up Liberal Arts out of necessity instead of passion. After highschool, you didn’t have a clear-cut direction or dream job in mind, but you knew you had to go to college so you picked something that left the options open, hoping that eventually, you’d figure it out.
When it comes to academics, you do just enough to get by. Your grades are respectable but nothing extraordinary. You’re not taking things for granted—you just didn’t see the point in staying up all night studying or stressing over perfect grades. Even with average grades, as long as you passed, that was good enough for you. While you respected those who worked hard to excel in their academics, you didn’t feel the need to compete with them. You weren’t interested in pushing yourself that far.
Your friends often teased you about it, calling you laid-back or lazy, but they understood. You didn’t need to be at the top of the class to feel content. You just gave enough to get by, balancing school and the rest of your life without too much strain. You figured most people probably felt the same way—just doing enough, hoping things would eventually fall into place.
“How are you feeling?” Karina asked Giselle, her eyes full of concern. The two of them sat beside you on the mat you’d spread out on the grass in the quad.
They were your housemates—your friends, too—living in the big apartment you all shared. You’d met them at the start of the school year, and sharing a space together had made it easy to grow close.
Giselle sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Not any better. I think the medicine’s not doing anything.”
You rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. “Just give it some time. If it gets worse, you can rest at home. I’ll make you some healthy soup.”
Giselle raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You can’t cook.”
You laughed, shrugging casually. “How hard can it be? I’m a fast learner.”
Jaemin, who had been sitting across from you, snickered. “Shut up. You can’t even tell the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini.”
You gasped dramatically, scooting away from him, glaring. “You shut up! You used to follow me around like a puppy when we were kids. Stop acting like you’re the smart one.”
Jaemin rolled his eyes. “We were fourteen, not kids.”
You smirked. “Doesn’t change the fact that you followed me around like a lost puppy.”
Jaemin crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “I’m just making things clear because I don’t want to sit here and watch you rewrite the facts in front of your friends. And just for the record, I was lost at the time.”
Karina turned to Giselle. “How does anyone confuse zucchini with cucumber?”
Giselle just shrugged, unimpressed.
You shot them both a look. “In my defense, they look exactly the same!”
The two stared at you, shaking their heads in perfect unison. It was almost comical. “No, they don’t,” Giselle said flatly.
“They really don’t,” Karina agreed.
You were about to fire back when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. That unmistakable side profile, the silvery hair catching the sunlight just right. “Huang Renjun,” you blurted out, your voice almost dreamy as your gaze followed him.
“Huang who?” Giselle asked, turning to follow your line of sight. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, the guy from the library?”
“Yes!” you gasped, clasping your hands over your mouth like you’d just seen a celebrity. “See? I told you he’s cute.”
“You’re right, he totally is,” Karina chimed in, sharing the same gleeful smile as you and Giselle.
“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Jaemin leaned closer, his curiosity piqued.
You grinned, leaning toward him like you were about to spill the juiciest secret. “He’s the guy who saved my ass yesterday.”
All eyes shifted back to Renjun, who stood by the library talking to a group of students. From this distance, you could see the bright smile on his face as he laughed at something his friend said. He looked so effortlessly friendly, so unbothered—and something about that gave you butterflies.
Giselle nudged your arm, eyes glinting with mischief. “Go say ‘hi’!”
“No way!” you hissed, snapping your head toward her. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.”
You stayed rooted to your spot, feeling your friends’ teasing remarks rain down on you like playful jabs. They nudged and prodded, daring you to make a move, but you could only keep your eyes on Renjun. He lingered outside the library for a few minutes before finally stepping inside, disappearing through the double doors. Before you could think too much, your body moved on autopilot.
“I'll be back,” you mumbled to your friends, brushing off their teasing ‘oooh’s as you hurried across the quad. They exchanged knowing looks, grinning like they’d already won some secret bet, but you ignored them and followed him.  
Inside the library, the cool, quiet air made you pause. You spotted Renjun by the window just as he was sitting down at a vacant desk. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you approached him.
“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your voice wobble just enough to make you cringe.
Renjun turned, his expression neutral at first before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said with a small smile. “What’s up?”  
“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, clutching the book in your hands like it was a lifeline. “I was going to return this today, so I’m gonna have to bother you again with your ID to check it in.” You laughed nervously, hoping the self-deprecation would make up for how awkward you felt.  
Renjun’s smile widened just slightly. “Sure, don’t worry about it. It would’ve been worse if you didn’t.” he teased lightly. Before you could answer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own card. “Here.”
“Didn’t want a loaned book to hold your GPA back at the end of the semester, right?” you quipped, taking the card from his hand. Renjun chuckled as he nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you added before turning to head to the front desk.
After the book was returned, you skipped over to Renjun’s desk and thanked him for his help. He seemed busy with something, so he just told you you were welcome before returning to his task. Meanwhile, you found yourself lingering. The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave and not push your luck, but the louder part was convincing you to stay.
You spotted a vacant desk next to Renjun’s, so you slid into a seat, pulling out your laptop and the notes for a class paper you were gonna start. The paper wasn’t due until next week, but you needed an excuse—a reason to stay within Renjun’s orbit. So you started typing, glancing at your screen for a few seconds before inevitably stealing a look at him. He was sitting a few tables away, scribbling in a notebook, his expression focused.  He looked extra cute by the window, a soft beam of sunlight catching his hair and his flawless skin as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the absentminded way he twirled his pen—it was like he didn’t even realize how distractingly handsome he was. Then again, maybe it was just in your eyes because there was no denying the fact that you were immensely infatuated by him.
You were mid-sentence in your essay when you stole another glance. But he glanced up just as your gaze lingered a second too long. Your eyes darted back to your screen so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash. Too late, you’d been caught red-handed already. Still, you couldn’t help yourself from doing it again, making sure to be more subtle this time—only to fail at it.
The second time he caught you looking, he held your gaze for a second longer, one eyebrow lifting in silent amusement. By the third or fourth time, he set his pen down, leaned back slightly, and called out softly, “Am I distracting you from your work?”  
You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t—” You fumbled, searching for an excuse. “I was just… looking around. Yes. I’m looking around as I think.”
Renjun chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I see. I thought I had something on my head,” he said, gesturing over his head.  
You huffed, flustered, and busied yourself with your notes, hoping to regain your composure. To your surprise, Renjun didn’t let the moment hang awkwardly. Instead, he asked casually, “What are you working on?”  
“Oh,” you said, grateful for the topic shift. “It’s an essay for a philosophy class.”  
He tilted his head, curious. “Which one?”  
You named the subject, and his expression brightened. “I took that last semester,” he said. “Professor Lee, right?”
“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed.
Renjun nodded thoughtfully. ““Well, then you don’t need to worry much. She’s really chill. She’s not the kind of professor who’ll mark you down for having a different opinion, so you can pretty much write how you actually feel about the topic.”  
His words surprised you. “Really?”  
“Really,” he said with a nod. “She actually encourages it. Just make sure you explain your points well. She likes a good argument.”  
You found yourself smiling, his advice easing some of the stress you hadn’t realized you were carrying about the essay. “Thanks. That’s actually very helpful.”  
“No problem.” He picked up his pen again, flashing you one last smile before returning to his notes.  
And just like that, you had one more reason to stay a little longer. You continued writing your paper, making sure you did it well and explained your points clearly. Occasionally, you would glance up at him, grinning to yourself at how attractive he looked when he was focusing. You didn’t need to talk after that. You wanted to, but you couldn’t find the right timing nor the right topic. By the time your phone alarm went off for your next class, you were already halfway through your essay.
Standing up to gather your things, you gave Renjun another glance, debating whether to say goodbye. The idea of walking off without a word felt odd, but you worried a goodbye might seem too eager, too obvious. So you hesitated—just long enough for him to notice.
“Done already?” Renjun asked, tilting his head slightly.
““No! Not yet.” Your response came faster than you intended. “I mean, I have to go to class, so… I’ll finish later.”
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If you need help with that paper, let me know. Maybe I can offer some pointers.”
The offer caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was blink at him.
Renjun seemed to realize how it sounded, and his hand darted up to rub the back of his neck. “Wait, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like—uh—it wasn’t supposed to sound—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That was kind of arrogant, wasn’t it?”
“No! Not at all!” you said quickly, shaking your head with more enthusiasm than you intended. “I mean, I would definitely let you know if I needed help.”
His laughter softened, and he ducked his head slightly, as though embarrassed. “Well, now it sounds like I think I’m a genius or something.”
“Renjun, stop. You’re fine,” you assured him, a smile creeping onto your face. And you meant it. There was something unexpectedly charming about his fumbling attempt to explain himself.
He hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, “What’s your name?”
You blinked again. “Sorry?”
“I just realized… you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he explained, the tips of his ears noticeably pink.
“Oh!” You told him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath—not once, but twice, as though memorizing every syllable.
When he looked up at you, his smile was soft, almost boyish. “Nice to meet you. You should get to class before you’re late.”
“Right. Yeah. Um, see you around,” you said, clutching your bag tightly and walking out before you said something embarrassingly incoherent.
As soon as you were out of sight, you let the grin you’d been holding back take over. It was silly, how a few awkward exchanges could make your heart race like this. For the first time in a long while, it felt less like fleeting, hormone-driven infatuation and more like a genuinely innocent crush.
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For the next few days, the library became your favorite spot, and it definitely wasn’t just because of your paper. Whether it was morning or late afternoon, you found yourself there, trying to catch glimpses of Renjun. Sometimes he was already settled in when you arrived, headphones on and pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. Other times, you got there first and watched the door with anticipation.
You made it a point to sit near him whenever you could. If the spot next to him was taken, you’d find a table within view. Eventually, you started interacting a bit more, small moments that shouldn’t have felt significant but somehow they did.
Like the time you dropped your pen and Renjun leaned down to retrieve it, handing it to you with a quiet, “Here you go.” 
His fingers brushed yours briefly, and though it lasted less than a second, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Another time, while unpacking your bag, your water bottle rolled off the table. Renjun caught it mid-fall and handed it back with an amused smile. “Careful, your bag is out for sabotage today,” he joked.
You smiled, shaking your head. “Not when you’re here to save the day,” you retorted, feeling proud of your quick and witty response.
Then there was the time you walked past him on your way to the shelves, and he looked up, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a polite gesture—but it left you grinning like an idiot as you pretended to browse the books, replaying the moment in your head.
One morning, Renjun sneezed, and you instinctively murmured, “Bless you.” He glanced at you, surprised but touched. 
“Thanks,” he said softly, his smile warm enough to make you forget where you were.
Each interaction, however small, only made you more drawn to him. One day, Giselle decided to tag along, claiming she needed to ‘see this Renjun guy’ for herself. The two of you walked into the library, and sure enough, he was already there, engrossed in his notes. Giselle wasted no time making her move, striding right up to him with her trademark confidence.
“Hi! You’re Renjun, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but direct.
Renjun looked up, startled but polite. “Uh, yeah. Do I know you?”
“No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Ningning?”
Renjun’s expression softened at the mention of Ningning, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, yeah, Ningning.”
“How is she? I haven’t seen her since last semester.”
You watched the exchange from a few steps away, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Giselle was handling the conversation so effortlessly, but you couldn’t help but worry about how this would make you look.
After chatting for a minute, Giselle turned to you and grinned. “Nice to meet you, we’ll leave you to it. Or, actually,” she gestured to the empty seat across from Renjun, “do you mind if we sit here?”
Renjun shook his head. “No. Go ahead.”
Giselle gave you a pointed look as the two of you sat down, clearly proud of herself for setting this up. That day, you ended up sitting with Renjun without needing an excuse. Giselle paved the way with her easy conversation, dropping Ningning’s name enough times to turn the awkward encounter into something comfortable. She only stayed for about twenty minutes before leaving, claiming she had other things to do. 
“Good luck with your paper!” she called out, leaving you alone with Renjun. You chatted a lot more than usual then, and you were giddy and smiling the whole time.
The moment that truly melted you, though, happened on a particularly busy day. The library was unusually crowded, and you could not find a vacant seat. You were about to leave for the day when you spotted a hand waving in the air. It took you a second to realize it was Renjun, beckoning you over to the seat next to him.
The sight made your stomach flutter, sending a wholesome kind of warmth through you. You didn’t even hesitate, smiling as you walked through the maze of desks and sat down next to him. “Hi! This place is full full.”
“I know. It’s not even exam week,” he replied while you were setting your stuff down. Then he gestured to the side of the table where his books were sprawled. “Do you need more space? I can move these.”
“Oh no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but the gesture made your chest flutter all the same.
It was almost the deadline for your paper, and while you were hoping you could use that as an excuse to sit with him that day, it seemed unnecessary now. Still, you thought it would be best to ask for his help while you were there.
“I’m taking you up on that offer today,” you began, hoping your cheerfulness would mask the nervousness you were feeling.
“Finally,” he quipped back, closing his book as he watched you open your laptop beside him. “I was starting to feel embarrassed about that offer. I was thinking you never really needed help and I was being arrogant.”
“Oh, stop it,” you huffed, toggling to the paper in your device. “Here. Would you mind taking a look at my draft? Just to see if it makes sense?”
Instead of tugging the laptop toward him, as you normally would, Renjun scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he leaned over your screen. He read it as it was, eyes scanning your words with quiet focus. Probably too focused to even notice you holding your breath beside him, heart racing in your chest at the sudden proximity.
“This is good,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful. “But here, maybe you could elaborate more on this point. And this—” he gestured to another part, “—is strong, but you could link it back to this statement more clearly.”  
You nodded, though most of his advice went over your head because your brain was too busy short-circuiting over how close he was. The scent of his cologne, the way his lips moved as he explained something you didn’t catch—all of it was impossibly distracting.
When he leaned back, you snapped out of your daze enough to say, “Thanks. That was really helpful.”  
“It’s nothing,” he said, flashing a small smile. “If you need help again, just let me know—so long as it’s something I actually know.”  
And then he added, almost offhandedly, “It’s nice studying with someone.”  
Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment. “Maybe we could be study buddies?” you offered, trying to sound as casual as you could.
Renjun looked at you for a second, then nodded. “You know what? Maybe we should be study buddies.”
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Ever since you moved away for college, you’d grown to enjoy three things: first, the independence of doing things on your own time without having to consider family members; second, experiencing a city so different from the hometown where you’d spent most of your life; and lastly, going to parties without a curfew.
These might sound shallow to some people, and honestly, you thought so too. Then again, you’d happily admit that you weren’t a profound kind of girl.  Growing up, you’d always been easy to please—and just as easy to disappoint. You wore your heart on your sleeve, never bothering to bottle up your feelings or hide your opinions. It helped that you were outgoing, the kind of person who cared more about your own well being than having beef with other people, so you never really had to fight anyone.
That being said, you liked to keep your circle small, only making friends with people you like and keeping a civil relationship with everyone else. With your small circle of friends—only Giselle, Karina, and Jaemin—it was easy to just tell them everything about you.
But tonight, even that small circle couldn’t make this party feel less exhausting.
“Girl, you did not come here just to stay invisible in a corner,” Karina sighed, towering over you on the lumpy corner couch while you sipped from a red plastic cup.
“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, be normal? You’re more fun than this,” she retorted, squeezing herself into the seat next to you. “Don’t make me sound like your mom, but it’s like you’re not even trying tonight. You’re usually the one dragging me into something embarrassing.”
“Yeah, but this is kinda boring, don’t you think?” you said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around you.
Music blared from the speakers, with strobe lights dancing in the ceilings and the floors all around you. Blending with the music were the sounds of people chatting and laughing animatedly. Students were either drunk or high, dancing in circles or hanging off each other. Even the air felt too heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, booze, and something you were pretty sure wasn’t tobacco.
Karina’s eyes widened like you’d just said something ridiculous. “Boring? This?” she scoffed, throwing her hands up at the lively crowd.
You grinned at her over the rim of your cup. “Just saying.”
She rolled her eyes, but you noticed the corner of her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. The two of you must have looked ridiculous, crammed onto the tiny couch while the rest of the party swirled around you.
“Where’s Gigi, anyway?” Karina asked, scanning the crowd.
You leaned to the side, spotting Giselle at the bar. She was laughing with a guy who was practically draped over her, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something that made her toss her hair back and giggle.
“She’s having fun,” you said, nodding toward her.
“At least one of us is,” Karina grumbled.
“Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here and look lonely with me. I was doing a good enough job of it by myself,” you teased, nudging her shoulder.
Before she could retort, Jaemin appeared between the two of you, crouching slightly so he could speak right into your ears. “Long faces at a party? You two are ruining the vibe.”
“Go away,” Karina grumbled, shoving Jaemin’s face with her palm.
Undeterred, Jaemin grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with a devilish grin. “I know why you’re sulking. Forget about him; he’s not coming.”
“You little—” Karina tried to yank her hand back, but Jaemin held on, wagging his head as if scolding her.
Turning his attention to you, he asked, “And you? What’s your excuse? Hungry? Sleepy? Time of the month? Which is it?”
“What are you even talking about?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
Jaemin narrowed his eyes like he’d caught you in a lie. “You do know that it’s weirder to see you idle at a party than when you’re throwing it back on the dance floor, right?”
You shrugged, taking another sip from your cup. “Can’t a girl take a break from all that?”
Karina, finally prying her hand free, leaned back with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this? Less activity from her means less work for you.”
Jaemin stood upright like he’d just had a light bulb moment. It was also then that Giselle came bounding over excitedly. “Jeno. Jeno. Jeno,” she chanted, pointing toward the staircase.
Your ears perked up as you followed her gaze. There he was—Lee Jeno—locked in a steamy makeout session with a pretty girl you’d seen around before.
Karina gave you a sidelong glance, her voice cautious. “Are you seeing that right now?”
“I am,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “What a fuckboy.”
Giselle raised an eyebrow, nudging your arm. “Yet you still like him, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Him being a fuckboy doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.”
Karina cringed dramatically. “Your judgment is so questionable.”
Jaemin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hold up. What’s going on? Do you have a thing for Lee Jeno too?” When you grinned instead of answering, he groaned, shaking his head. “Just how many crushes do you have, woman?”
Honestly, only two—Jeno and Renjun. But these days, Renjun had the edge. Jeno might’ve been the one who flirted with you last semester, but lately, you couldn’t help but swoon over Renjun’s quieter, more thoughtful charm.
“I like Renjun more,” you confessed. “He’s just the complete opposite of Jeno. I kinda wish he were here. Though I know this isn’t really his scene.”
“Girl, doesn’t it bother you that you like two completely different types of guys at the same time?” Karina asked, genuinely curious.
You scoffed, throwing your hands up in mock exasperation. “Girl, does it matter?”
For a while, you stayed in the corner, sipping your drink and chatting with your friends. But as the minutes ticked by, the infectious energy of the crowd started pulling you in. Soon you were getting up from the couch and joining the thrumming crowd, Karina trailing behind you.
Giselle and Jaemin quickly found their own adventures—Giselle gravitating back toward the bar, her giggles disappearing into the noise, and Jaemin vanishing somewhere toward the dance floor. That left you and Karina sticking close, both of you weaving through the chaos as you searched for the makeshift minibar.
That’s when Donghyuck appeared.
The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you going home with me after this, or should we just skip the formalities and head back to my place now?”
You gave him a deadpan look. “Pass.”
He smirked, completely unfazed. “The bathroom’s closer if my place is too far for you.”
“Isn’t your place Mark Lee’s place?” you shot back. “Hard pass.”
Donghyuck’s grin widened like he’d been waiting for you to say that. “Aw, still sore about getting rejected by Mark?”
“I wasn’t rejected,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Sure it was,” he drawled, leaning in closer. “But lucky for you, Mark’s not coming home tonight. Think of it as a golden opportunity.”
“Dude, she’s just not that into you,” Karina cut in, her tone flat as she rolled her eyes.
Donghyuck turned to her with a theatrical gasp. “I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking back at you and winking playfully.
You felt a chill run down your spine—not the kind caused by fear or disgust, but the kind that made your skin tingle and sent heat between your thighs. It was infuriating how easily Lee Donghyuck could pull that off, and even more infuriating that your body had the nerve to respond.
But you’d sooner gouge your own eyes out than admit that to him. “Go away, Hyuck,” you said, shoving him lightly with your free hand.
He laughed, stepping back just enough to give you space but staying close enough to remain a nuisance. “See you later, then.”
As he walked off, Karina gave you a side-eye. “You’re not hanging out with that guy, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” you lied, taking another sip of your drink and avoiding her gaze.
“Good. That guy is nothing but trouble,” she replied, glancing back at Donghyuck who had now found another girl to bother.
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The next morning, you woke up to the sharp ring of your alarm blaring in your ears. Disoriented, you reached out blindly to silence it, only for your hand to slap the cold, hard floor. Floor? You groaned, peeling your cheek off the surface and wincing at the sticky residue clinging to your skin. Why were you on the floor?
Your head pounded mercilessly, a dull ache that only grew worse as you sat up and tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Your phone buzzed on the table, and when you reached for it, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the black screen: mascara smudged, hair in complete disarray, and a faint red mark on your forehead where you must have hit something.
“Crap,” you muttered, staring at the time. You had twenty minutes to make it to your study session with Renjun!
Scrambling to your feet, you almost tripped over your own feet on your way to the bathroom. No matter how tight your schedule was, you must not skip taking a shower before going out today because you stink. So you stepped under the shower head, using cold water on purpose in hopes that the freezing water would jolt you into wakefulness. You scrubbed your face like it would erase the remnants of last night’s chaos.
What even was last night’s chaos?
Snippets of loud music, flashing lights, and Donghyuck’s smirk popped into your mind, but you shoved them aside. You could recall every bit of last night if you tried hard enough, but there was no time to dwell on your questionable life choices. You threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed your bag, and sprinted out the door, hair still damp and heart pounding.
When you reached the library, you were breathing hard, and the cold air made your headache even worse. The library was almost deserted. Pulling out your phone, you texted Renjun to let him know you’d made it, only for his reply to make you cringe.
Renjun: Love your enthusiasm, but aren’t you an hour too early? 😀
The realization came with shame: you were way too eager. There was no other way to spin it. You sat down at a random table, trying to blend into the background despite the fact that the library was far from crowded. You spent the next few minutes scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself from the embarrassment you were feeling inside.
Ten minutes later, Renjun walked in, his usual calm demeanor intact. When he spotted you, he smiled and quickened his pace. “Hi,” he greeted, setting his bag down across from you.
“Hi,” you greeted back, moving your bag out of the desk. “Aren’t we supposed to meet later?”
“Yeah, but you’re already here, so might as well,” he replied, shrugging. “This works better for me, actually, since I have errands later.”
“We could always reschedule, you know?” you suggested, though that was far from what you were feeling inside. “And did you rush here? You look out of breath.”
“Ah.” Renjun chuckled as he grabbed his water bottle and took a huge sip. “I didn’t want you to wait too long, so I rushed out,” he said after a drink.
His words caught you off guard. He looked so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of him rushing because of you warmed your chest.
From that day on, Renjun always sat with you during your study sessions. It wasn’t something you planned, but it became an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a rhythm that settled into place without either of you needing to say a word.
Small gestures like him offering his pen when yours ran out of ink felt special, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. It was just convenience, you told yourself, but the way his hand lingered a second too long or the faint smile he’d flash before going back to his notes made it impossible not to wonder.
He’d text you ahead of time if the library was packed, letting you know he’d saved you a seat or that you should just reschedule. You’d thank him, trying to sound casual, but your chest always felt lighter seeing his name light up your screen.
Over time, your study sessions became less about the textbooks and more about getting to know the little things that made Renjun… Renjun. He was a linguistics student who could explain the quirks of syntax or the history of a word with an enthusiasm that made you want to listen, even when you weren’t entirely interested. He liked sci-fi movies—ones with confusing plots and bizarre visuals—and he’d binge them whenever he wasn’t drowning in assignments.
You noticed he had a birthmark on the back of his hand—grayish with a hint of purple, like a bruise that never faded. The first time you commented on it, asking if he’d hurt himself, he chuckled and said, “It’s been there since I was a kid.”
Sometimes, when he was particularly focused, his brows would furrow and his lips would press into a pout that you found annoyingly endearing. You’d have to stop yourself from staring too long, afraid he’d catch you.
Renjun had this habit of quietly humming under his breath while writing notes. It was so soft you almost missed it, but once you noticed, you couldn’t unhear it. When you teased him about it one day, he laughed, embarrassed, but the sound of his laughter stuck with you long after the session ended.
It was in these in-between moments that you realized how much you looked forward to spending time with him—not just as a study buddy, but as someone who made the world feel a little less ordinary.
One afternoon, you caught him sketching in the margins of his notebook while you took notes. His pencil moved with a quiet confidence, tracing lines and curves that turned into an intricate little doodle.
“Is that what you do when you’re bored?” you asked, leaning over to get a better look.
Renjun quickly covered the drawing with his hand, chuckling nervously. “It’s nothing. Just a habit.”
You tilted your head, smiling. “A habit? You’re pretty good.”
He gave you a small smile but didn’t seem convinced by your words.
“I mean it,” you insisted, giving him a sincere look.
He hesitated before glancing down at his notebook. “Thanks,” he said softly, opening his notebook again. “Do you wanna see it?”
“Are you kidding me? Yes!” you giggled, leaning closer to take a look. “I love visual arts. It’s like something I wish I could do but since I don’t have the talent for it, I just settle with appreciating it.”
“Well, I don’t have the talent either. It’s just a hobby,” he replied while you were flipping through the pages of his notebook, admiring the small doodles on the margins.
“You’re too modest,” you chimed, impressed by the effortless beauty of his cute, almost cartoonish art. “I think you’re really good at this.”
Encouraged by your sincerity, he opened up a little. “I liked drawing as a kid. I used to think I’d pursue it as a career, but, you know, priorities. I have a vision of an ideal future which seemed difficult to achieve if I chose art.”
You frowned. “That’s kinda sad.”
He quickly shook his head, his tone light. “I don’t feel that way about it, though. It’s not like I’m completely banned from making art. I’m just putting it on hold for now.”
You watched him closely, noting the way his expression shifted between wistfulness and acceptance. The way he brushed it off so easily tugged at something in you. “Well,” you said after a moment, “for what it’s worth, I think you should keep doing it. Even if it’s just for yourself.”
Renjun looked at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile that lingered a little too long. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, he sounded like he meant it.
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“I think he likes you,” Karina said, sprawled across the couch, hugging a throw pillow with a dreamy grin on her face. “You’ve been spending so much time together lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you out soon.”
“Agreed,” Giselle added, flipping through a magazine that was clearly not as interesting as this topic. “He really should do it soon.”
You plopped down on the floor with a loud sigh, dramatically draping an arm over your eyes. “You think so?”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaemin muttered from his spot on the carpet, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. “You’ve barely seen each other outside the library. For all you know, he’s just being nice.”
“Oh, come on,” you shot back, lifting your arm to squint at him. “You don’t see the way he looks at me with this little smile, like…” You mimicked an exaggerated dreamy face.
Karina giggled. “You’re so delusional. It’s cute, though.”
Giselle joined in. “Yeah, the way you’ve been acting lately is straight out of a high school drama. You, of all people, getting excited about study sessions? Who are you?”
“Hey, I’ve always been academically inclined!” you defended, sitting up.
Jaemin snorted. “Cramming at 3 a.m. doesn’t count as ‘academically inclined.’”
You threw a popcorn kernel at him, which he dodged with an annoyingly smug grin. “For your information,” you said, pointing at him with mock indignation, “I’ve been taking notes. Like, actual, color-coded, neat notes. With highlighters.”
“Oh no,” Giselle gasped, feigning horror. “The highlighters! It’s worse than we thought!”
“It’s called being responsible,” you huffed, crossing your arms with a proud smirk.
“It’s called being whipped,” Jaemin corrected, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re basically studying because you’re hoping he’ll think you’re smart and fall for you.”
“First of all,” you said, holding up a finger, “Renjun already knows I’m smart.”
Jaemin snorted.
“Second of all,” you continued, ignoring him, “this newfound work ethic has nothing to do with him.”
“Right,” Giselle drawled, shooting Jaemin a look.
“Absolutely nothing,” you repeated with a grin, tossing popcorn into your own mouth.
“Guys, give her a break,” Karina chided softly, though she was grinning playfully too. “Isn’t it good that she’s motivated?”
Giselle snickered, giving you a mischievous side eye. “Anyone would be motivated if they’re being promised some di—”
You cut her off by shoving popcorn in her mouth. “I haven’t been promised anything.”
Giselle chewed her food quickly and started poking your sides. “You’re grinning so hard your face is gonna crack.”
You laughed, playfully swatting her hand away. “I just think it’s nice, okay? To have a study buddy who, like, actually cares if I pass my exams. Unlike some people.” You gave Jaemin a pointed look.
“Hey, I care,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think you should fool yourself into thinking it’s anything more than studying.”
Karina laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I think it’s sweet. It’s cute seeing you so motivated, even if it is…” she trailed off, glancing at Giselle.
“Dick-motivated,” she finished bluntly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.
“You’re so gross,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at her.
“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Giselle shrugged. 
“I will say this, though, if it’s making you study harder, maybe it’s not the worst thing. We’re freshmen, so you can still pave the way for yourself to graduate with flying colors,” Jaemin added, wiggling his eyebrows. “But you guys need to go out of that library first. Go to the quad for a change. Maybe get coffee together or something.”
“Jaemin,” you said, resting your chin on your hand with an exaggerated pout, “why would I need coffee when Renjun already gives me a caffeine rush by just existing?”
Giselle cackled. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”
“Hopelessly in love,” you declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor with a hand over your heart.
Karina shook her head, laughing. “You’re so embarrassing.”
“You love me anyway.”
Jaemin groaned. “No, seriously. Stop living in your fantasy world and ask him to hang out. Outside. Of. The. Library.”
You peeked up at him with a mischievous grin. “But what if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to confess? What if he’s just as nervous as I am?”
“Then you’re both pathetic,” Giselle deadpanned, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.
“Don’t worry,” you said with mock seriousness. “When we finally get together, I’ll make sure to invite you to the wedding.”
Giselle and Jaemin groaned again, this time louder. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this,” Jaemin complained.
You just laughed, the giddy, teenage-like crush bubbling over until it spilled out of you in the form of exaggerated dramatics. Maybe your friends were right, and you should try to take things further, but for now, you were perfectly content basking in the joy of it all—even if your friends never let you live it down.
However, it seemed like your friends weren’t the only ones bothered about the slow development in your relationship with Renjun. The universe too, knew that it was time for you to leave the safe confines of the campus library. 
It happened on a late Sunday afternoon. You walked into a café, expecting nothing more than a quiet moment with your usual overpriced latte. But then you spotted him—Renjun. He wore a soft expression that caught the golden light streaming through the window, his face almost glowing as he leaned over a notebook. He was sitting alone with a half-empty cup of coffee by his side, his pencil moving in quick, deliberate strokes.
You knew, logically, that Renjun didn’t spend every waking moment in the library. He had a life outside of it, of course. But seeing him in a place without the endless shelves of books and the soothing silence of the library around felt a little weird, in a good way. There was something oddly intimate about it, like you’d stumbled into a part of his life you had never seen before—and in a way, it really was something you hadn’t seen before. 
You were still rooted to the spot, trying to decide whether to turn around and flee or walk over and say hi, when Renjun glanced up—and noticed you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before his face broke into a small, easy smile. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, gesturing for you to come over.
Well, so much for running away, you thought to yourself as you waved back. You walked over, trying your best to seem like you weren’t overthinking every step. 
“Hey,” he greeted, his smile widening as he closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“You too,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded light and not as jittery as you felt. You glanced around, pretending to take in the café like it wasn’t the hundredth time you’d been there. “I was just gonna grab some coffee but I didn’t expect to run into you here. No offense but I thought your all-time favorite place is the library.”
Renjun chuckled. “Not really. I like coming here when the library gets too quiet.”
You nodded, though his words sent your mind spiraling. He’d been here all this time, escaping the quiet of the library, while you’d been basking in it, thinking it was your shared haven.
“I see, so you come here often?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché you sounded.
Renjun nodded. “Not as often as I’d like. I get caught up in schoolwork most of the time. But when I do, this is my go-to spot.”
“Cool,” you replied, though you felt anything but. Your mind was screaming at you to think of something interesting to say but all you could do was nod.
“Do you want to join me?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.
The question caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stared at him like he’d asked you to solve an equation without a calculator—and you sucked at Math!
“Yeah, sure,” you said finally, sliding into the seat. As you settled in, the reality of the situation hit you—this was your chance! No library distractions, no pretense of study sessions. Just you and Renjun, in a cozy café, with nothing but time and the faint buzz of espresso machines between you. And suddenly, your usual crush-induced dramatics didn’t seem so silly anymore.
Renjun had this ability to make the simplest moments feel meaningful. Like when he offered to buy you coffee, even remembering your favorite drink—something you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if he paid this much attention to everyone or if you were, somehow, different—special, in a way. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe he was just polite. But maybe, just maybe, he actually cared.
The two of you talked about random things as the café buzzed quietly around you—favorite movies, weird study habits, how caffeine was both a blessing and a curse. Renjun listened intently, and just when you thought the conversation might drift into silence, he asked, “Why did you choose your major?”
The question caught you off guard, not because it was invasive but because of how thoughtful it was. It wasn’t something you expected to be asked over coffee. You paused, giving yourself a moment to consider your answer.
“I guess I just fell into it,” you admitted, twirling your straw. “It felt like the safe choice, you know? Like something I couldn’t go wrong with. But sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve picked something else. Something I’m actually passionate about.”
Renjun tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What would that be? If you could choose anything?”
You hesitated, surprised by his genuine interest. “I don’t know. I’m not really passionate about something in particular.”
“Well, you are interested in something though, right?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.
You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m interested in a lot of things, just not interested enough to pursue them.”
“Any hobbies?” he asked again, looking genuinely curious. “They said what you do in your free time says a lot about what you’re passionate about. Sometimes you don’t even realize it.”
“I don’t know if the things I do in my free time are considered hobbies.”
“That’s the general description of hobbies, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly. “Things you do in your free time?”
You smiled sheepishly. “I know. I do have hobbies and I tried looking at them to see which one would be interesting enough to pursue. Couldn’t decide on one. Everything just seems so generic.”
Renjun’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded like he understood. “I think a lot of people feel that way about the things they love. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled back, warmth blooming in your chest.
When you mentioned that you were on your way to the library to catch up on assignments, Renjun said he’d join you since he had nothing else to do. Your heart flipped at his casual offer, though your mind immediately began spiraling. Did he actually want to spend more time with you, or was it just convenient?
The evening passed in quiet companionship at the library. While you worked on your assignments, Renjun sketched in his notebook, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper. You stole glances at him, unable to help yourself. There was something peaceful about the way he was so focused, his  hair falling into his eyes as he worked. At some point, you asked to discuss your assignment with him, hoping to get his opinions on your stance.
When it was time to leave, Renjun offered to walk you home. The offer sent your mind reeling again, but before you could respond, Jaemin showed up, his usual smirk firmly in place. “You guys going somewhere?” he drawled, the mischief in his eyes impossible to miss.
You blinked, barely processing his words, because all you could feel was a faint irritation bubbling up. Of course, Jaemin had to show up now, of all times. You trudged toward him with your brows furrowed. And in a low voice, you scolded him. “What are you doing here? You’re ruining my moment!”
“Karina sent me,” he explained, also lowering his voice. He looked irritated too. “She’s going cuckoo. Said you weren’t picking up your phone and it’s past ten o’clock now.”
You stole a glance at Renjun, who was watching the interaction quietly, his expression curious but unreadable. You cleared your throat. “This is Jaemin,” you said reluctantly, gesturing toward him. “He’s a friend.”
“Best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Jaemin corrected.
You elbowed him in the rib, making him wince in pain. “Teenagers. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. He’s my mom’s friend’s son.”
Renjun’s gaze shifted to you briefly, as if silently asking for more context. The slight crease in his brow made your stomach flutter, and you felt the need to elaborate. “My roommate Karina made him come check on me.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you must be Huang Renjun. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.
Renjun took it. “You have?” he asked, his tone polite but clearly surprised.
“Yeah. She’s been talking about—ow!” Before Jaemin could finish, you elbowed him again.
“Thanks for today,” you chimed, smiling brightly at Renjun in an attempt to steer the conversation back to normalcy. “For, you know, the coffee and the help with my assignment.”
Renjun turned to you with an easy smile. “Anytime. Hopefully, I didn’t distract you from it too much.”
“Absolutely not,” you replied, shaking your head.
“That’s good then,” he said with a small nod. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you next time?”
The words were casual, but they echoed beautifully in your ears. See you next time? Did he mean that? Like, does he actually want to see you again? Or was it something polite people like him would say? You started overanalyzing right then and there, picking apart his tone, his word choice, the little upward curve of his lips when he said it.
“Yeah. See you next time,” you replied, waving a hand as he gave both of you one last look before exiting the double doors.
Your eyes followed him as he walked away, his silhouette framed by the glow of the library’s lights. It was like your crush had decided to script this scene for maximum drama. You wondered if he’d think about this moment later. Would he replay it in his head the way you would? Probably not.
As soon as the door closed behind Renjun, Jaemin leaned in, pulling you out of your musings. “You’re smiling like a total lovesick fool right now,” he sniggered. “It’s almost painful to watch. Almost.”
Your smile vanished as you shot him a glare, though your cheeks burned. “You’re literally the worst.”
“Maybe. But I’m also the reason Karina’s not hunting you down with a broom, so, you’re welcome.”
You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the exit, Jaemin falling into step beside you. Still, as much as you wanted to be annoyed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Renjun’s soft smile and the way he’d said, See you next time.
Karina and Giselle were at the apartment when you got back. Before Karina could preach about your agreement to let each other know if one of you would come home late, you told them about Renjun and the teasing started immediately. 
“Did he say anything?” Giselle asked, practically bouncing with excitement.
You groaned, dropping onto the couch dramatically. “No, he didn’t say anything. But he wanted to walk me home, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Karina repeated with a laugh.
“He offered, but Jaemin showed up, so it didn’t really count,” you admitted.
“Well, at least he offered,” Giselle pointed out.
“Exactly,” Giselle said. “That’s practically a confession of love in boy language. Men are simple like that.”
“Hey!” Jaemin protested but no one paid any attention.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe you were just hopelessly, blissfully delusional. Either way, you didn’t mind.
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The smell of food greeted you as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom, and your stomach rumbled in approval. Following the aroma, you found Jaemin in the kitchen, busily moving around with your hot pink apron tied over his t-shirt.
“Guys, it’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!” you announced dramatically, taking a seat and marveling at the spread of dishes already on the table.
“Stop lying and eat,” Jaemin scolded, his tone sharp but his eyes amused. He carefully set a steaming clay pot in the center of the table, the savory aroma filling the room.
“Na Jaemin, you’re cooking up a feast!” Giselle exclaimed, appearing in the doorway and eyeing the food hungrily. “What’s the occasion?”
Karina came in last, casually pulling her hair into a bun. “I asked him to cook for us because everything in the fridge was about to go bad.”
“Really?” you asked, your spoonful of fried rice hovering mid-air. “All of it?” Without waiting for an answer, you stuffed the spoon into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum at the flavor.
“Nearly all of it,” Karina confirmed as she sat down next to Giselle. “We haven’t been cooking much lately. The groceries have been untouched for over a week now.”
“Why do we even bother to buy groceries when all we do is order takeout,” Giselle asked, shrugging.
“Hey, don’t say that. We eat home cooked meals sometimes,” you chided, pouting because you were the cook in the house. “Although, I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been cooking much lately.”
“Good thing you have me,” Jaemin said smugly, wiping his hands on the apron. “Everybody say ‘Thank you, Jaemin.’”
“Thank you, Jaemin,” all three of you obliged.
As everyone dug in, Jaemin leaned back, watching you all enjoy the food with a satisfied expression. The sound of clinking utensils and satisfied hums filled the room, and for a moment, you thought this was just another one of Jaemin’s regular ‘save the kitchen’ moments. But then Jaemin reached into his backpack, slung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a small stack of flyers. 
“Speaking of appreciating my genius,” he began, sliding one to each of you, “the fine arts department is hosting an exhibit this weekend. Photography, paintings, sketches—you name it. You guys should come.”
You glanced down at the flyer. The bold text read ‘Life Imitates Art: NCIT Student Art Exhibit’ accompanied by an artsy photo of a painted skyline.
“Oh, this looks cool!” Giselle said, holding up her flyer.
“Of course it does. My department made it,” Jaemin replied smugly. “And, I know someone who loves art and would definitely appreciate this.”
“Who could it be?” Karina muttered, smiling as she glanced at you.
You rolled your eyes at Jaemin’s theatrics, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest. Art exhibits were totally your thing, and Jaemin knew it. However, the moment you looked back at the flyer, your thoughts drifted to a certain someone.
Would Renjun enjoy something like this? You remembered how he’d once shown you his drawings, shyly flipping through margins of his notebook filled with sketches and doodles of nature, cartoons, and people.  The idea of walking through the gallery with him, admiring the art and sharing thoughts, made your heart skip a beat.
“Will our photos be there?” Giselle asked, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve taken enough pictures of us to fill a gallery.”
Jaemin snickered. “Nope. Freshmen aren’t allowed to participate.”
“What?” the three of you exclaimed in unison, outraged.
“Unfair,” Giselle muttered. “You’re better than half the juniors I know.”
“Exactly!” Karina added, frowning. “Who decided that rule anyway?”
Jaemin shrugged, unbothered. “Rules are rules. Besides, you think I want to deal with more critiques from professors? Hard pass.”
“That’s so lame,” you chimed in, frowning as well. “Your pictures of us deserve to be up there.”
“Flattery won’t change anything,” Jaemin replied with a grin. “But you will come to the exhibit, right?”
“Of course,” Karina answered immediately.
“Definitely,” Giselle said, nudging you. “Right?”
“Obviously,” you replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Do we have to RSVP, or can we just show up?” Karina asked.
“Just show up. But get there early—it’ll be packed,” Jaemin said. Then he turned to you specifically, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t flake.”
“Who, me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’d never miss a chance to see what the fine arts department cooked up. You know that.”
The conversation continued with Jaemin fielding questions about the exhibit, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how to casually bring it up with Renjun. Would it be weird to invite him? Would he even want to come?
By the time dinner was over, your mind was already racing with possible scenarios. One thing was clear: you needed to find a way to mention the exhibit to Renjun without sounding like you were asking him on a date. Even though that’s exactly what you were hoping for.
Three days later, you wondered how you managed to invite Renjun to the exhibit without fumbling over your words too much. The memory of your awkward phrasing made you cringe slightly every time it replayed in your head, but here you were—standing next to him in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by art.
He seemed genuinely interested in the pieces, his eyes darting from one frame to another with a quiet intensity. Every now and then, he’d point something out—a brushstroke technique in a painting or the composition of a photograph—and you’d nod along, pretending you weren’t hyper-focused on the way his lips curved as he spoke. 
Normally, you’d be more proactive than this. You could talk about art and techniques for days. But at the time, you were more focused on spending the time with him that you could only listen to his thoughts. You offered some of your own comments, but not as much as you would when it was someone else there with you.
The exhibit didn’t lead to anything romantic, as you’d half-hoped. There were no magical moments, no grand gestures, no accidentally brushing hands that sent sparks flying. But somehow, that was okay. You were content just being there with him.
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Dinner was a grander affair than the exhibit, to you, at least. It wasn’t anything fancy—just fast food at a brightly lit diner. You sat across from each other, unwrapping burgers and sipping on sodas, talking about this and that.
As you both ate, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—how the exhibit had surprised you both with its variety, how one of the paintings reminded him of a place he’d visited as a kid, and the sheer horror of seeing the price tags on some of the pieces.
“Five thousand dollars for that?” he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely as if the painting were still in front of him.
“Art is subjective,” you replied with a shrug.
Renjun shook his head, biting into a fry. “Subjective or not, I think my two-year-old cousin could’ve done that with finger paints.”
You laughed, nearly choking on your drink. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. But honestly, same.”
After a pause, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you like art? Like genuinely?”
You nodded, pushing your tray aside. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not an expert or anything, but I like looking at it. It’s relaxing, and sometimes it makes you think about stuff in a different way.”
“I see. Art can make people feel feelings.”
“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head cutely. “Do you just doodle on your notebooks or do you, like, genuinely want to pursue it?”
“I like sketching, but I’m more into digital arts,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Like I said, it’s more of a hobby. I don’t think I’m good enough to call myself an artist or anything.”
“You do digital arts?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s so cool! I thought you just sketch on the margins because you want your hands to not stop moving.”
Renjun chuckled heartily, looking a little sheepish. “I do like art a lot. And yeah, maybe I doodle on my notes because I don’t know what to do with my hands sometimes.”
“Can I see them?” you said firmly, leaning closer.
He blinked, surprised. “What?”
“Your digital arts. Can I see them?” you asked and Renjun shrugged. “Only if you wanna show them, of course.”
“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If I ever think they’re worth showing.”
The conversation shifted naturally from there. You learned that Renjun liked savory food more than sweets, that he loved sci-fi movies and old-school animation, and that his favorite season was summer because it was warmer.
In return, you told him about your favorite books and the time you’d tried to paint but ended up with more paint on yourself than the canvas.
Renjun’s laugh came easily, and you found yourself wanting to hear it more. “Sounds like you’d be a hit at one of those paint-and-sip nights.”
“Only if the wine is good,” you replied, grinning.
At one point, he pointed at your tray. “You’re not going to finish that?”
You glanced at the fries you’d left untouched. “No, I’m stuffed. Why? You want them?”
“Waste not, want not,” he said, sliding the tray toward himself.
“Do you even like cold fries?”
“Food is food,” he replied simply, popping one into his mouth.
It was such a small thing, but the casual ease of the moment made your heart warm. You wanted to believe this connection, this closeness, was something meaningful—something real.
But doubt crept in, uninvited and persistent. Was this really going anywhere? Renjun was affecting you more than you’d expected—your mood, your energy, even your plans. You were falling so fast, yet he hadn’t even shown you anything to suggest he was on the same page. Every small gesture, every laugh, every lingering glance—you found yourself dissecting them, overthinking, convincing yourself they meant something when they might not.
Would you be okay if the spark you felt wasn’t mutual?
When dinner was over, the two of you stepped outside, only to find it raining. The kind of rain that drenched you in seconds if you stepped out without an umbrella. You both stood under the awning of the restaurant, staring out into the drizzle. The air was cold, and small splashes of water reached your feet, soaking through your shoes.
Renjun stood beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the chilly air. Despite the miserable weather, you didn’t feel annoyed. If anything, the rain seemed to add a certain weight to the moment—a quiet intimacy that made your heart ache in a good way.
You wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as hyper-aware of the proximity between you as you were? Did he feel the way your shoulders nearly brushed every time one of you shifted your weight?
“I didn’t check the forecast,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the ground. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”
You nodded, your hands buried in your pockets. “Yeah. Bummer.”
It was a half-hearted reply, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your voice trembled, not from the cold but from the nervous energy bubbling in your chest.
“What should we do now?” he asked after a moment, turning slightly to look at you.
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say anything coherent. “No idea,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze firmly on the rain.
Then, without warning, you felt his hands on your shoulders. The touch was light but firm enough to make your heart leap. Before you could even process it, Renjun had pulled you closer, draping his jacket over both your heads.
“Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly full of determination. “We’re making a run for it.”
“What?!” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-hidden under the shared shelter of his jacket.
“It’s just rain,” he said with a grin that sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. “If we don’t do this, we’ll be stuck here all night.”
You hesitated for a split second, but his enthusiasm was contagious. “Fine,” you relented, unable to suppress a small laugh.
“That’s the spirit,” he said, his smile widening. “Ready?”
“Not really,” you admitted, but before you could overthink it, Renjun tightened his hold on you, and the two of you darted out into the rain.
The world seemed to blur as you ran, your laughter mingling with his as water splashed up around your feet. The jacket did little to shield you, and soon, droplets of rain were sliding down your cheeks and soaking through your clothes. But you didn’t care—not when Renjun was pulling you along, his own laugh ringing like music in your ears.
When you finally reached the bus shed, you stumbled to a halt, breathless and soaked but grinning from ear to ear. Renjun let out a relieved sigh, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, which only made you laugh harder.
“We made it!” he announced, his voice tinged with mock heroics.
“Barely,” you shot back, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “I didn’t know you were the type to do something like that. You’re insane.”
“Insane or genius?” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the metal pole of the shed.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. The rain continued to pour, the sound of it hitting the roof above you creating a soothing rhythm. You both stood there, catching your breath, the moment stretching into something quiet and tender.
“Thank you for today,” Renjun looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad we did this.”
The way he said it made your heart flutter, but before you could dwell on it too long, he added with a teasing grin, “Even if I had to brave the rain for it.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Totally worth it, though.”
“Totally,” he agreed, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.
For a moment, you thought he might say something else—or that you might—but the sound of car horns broke through your silence, and you both turned to watch the busy streets. The road in front of you was alive with motion—cars speeding past, their headlights streaking through the rain-soaked night. Most of the taxis that passed were already occupied, and when Renjun checked the bus schedule on his phone, he sighed. 
“Caught in traffic,” he said, showing you the GPS map with the slow-moving icon of your bus.
“I figured,” you replied, leaning against the metal pole of the waiting shed. But oddly enough, you didn’t mind. Despite being drenched and stranded, you were having fun.
“Well,” he said, giving the jacket a rueful look before glancing at you, “I’d offer you this, but it’s basically a sponge at this point.”
You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. We’re already wet. What difference would it make?”
He shrugged, tucking the useless jacket under his arm. “Fair enough.”
The two of you spent the next few minutes chatting about anything and everything—jokes about how your shoes squelched when you moved, your terrible luck with rain, and a particularly embarrassing story Renjun shared about slipping on wet pavement once.
Then your gaze wandered to the poster on the wall of the waiting shed. It was an advertisement for some soft drink, with bright colors and cheerful models smiling down at you. Or at least, they had been cheerful—someone had scribbled on their faces with marker, adding mustaches and angry eyebrows.
You tilted your head, amused. “What are your thoughts on this piece?” you asked, the same way you’d asked him about the artworks in the gallery earlier that day.
Renjun followed your gaze and chuckled. Then he put on a serious face, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “It’s tasteful, yes. Based on the lines, I think the artist made this on the spot. A spontaneous piece. Overall, it’s top-tier art.”
You tilted your head at the poster, humming in disagreement. “I think it’s mid-tier at most.”
“Think you could do better?” he challenged.
“I’m not much of an artist.”
“Well, how about this?” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket with a mischievous grin.
You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”
“To write,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Vandalism?”
He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably gonna change those posters soon anyway. Might as well leave our mark.”
You grinned, loving the gleam of mischief in his eyes that was too tempting to resist. “Alright,” you said, taking the pen from his hand.
You leaned toward the poster, careful not to smudge it too much with your damp sleeve, and drew the best fox drawing you could make, unsuccessfully, but you were content with it. Then you wrote in large, messy letters: CUTE LITTLE FOX, INJUN.
“That’s a fox?” Renjun asked, surprised. You nodded with a grin. “Looks more like a wet squirrel.”
“That’s fine. Art is subjective,” you scoffed, handing him the pen. “Your turn.”
He shook his head, laughing. Beneath your writing, he drew a cartoon girl who resembled you, and added: YOU’RE MUCH CUTER THAN THE FOX ^_^
The two of you stepped back to admire your masterpiece, grinning like a couple of kids who’d just gotten away with a prank. “Think it’ll make someone’s day?” you asked.
“Either that or they’ll roll their eyes and wonder what middle schoolers did this,” Renjun replied, pocketing the pen.
When the bus finally pulled up, its headlights cutting through the rain, you both boarded, still laughing. As you climbed the steps, you turned back for a moment and snapped a quick picture of your vandalism.
Renjun noticed and leaned closer to take a look at your screen. “What’s that for?”
“Evidence,” you said with a smirk. “Just in case the poster police comes after us.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile as the two of you found seats near the back of the bus, the sound of rain and the hum of the engine accompanying your ride home.
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That weekend, while your friends were out doing their own thing, you were in your bedroom, grinning at your phone. You spent the morning scrolling through the pictures you took with Renjun the day before—zooming into his face and admiring the features you’d grown so fond of in the last few weeks. The picture you took of the graffiti was posted in your stories, and you kept checking who’d seen it, hoping one of them would be Renjun himself.
You wished there was an excuse to go out and meet him, but there wasn’t any. Even if there was a valid excuse, you probably wouldn’t act on it because you were worried about being too obvious. Besides, anything you say to invite him outside would only seem like an eager attempt to see him. So you opted to wait till the next time you can hang out with him.
“It’s still Saturday morning?” you grumbled upon seeing the date and time on your phone. “Has the weekend always been this slow?”
As soon as Monday rolled in, you went to your classes with a bounce in your step, listening intently to the lectures and hoping time passed faster. When it was all over, you skipped to the library knowing Renjun would already be there.
And so it continued. The library was your sanctuary as usual, but after a few more days of hunching over the same cramped desks and flickering fluorescents, you suggested a change of scenery. Renjun wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but you managed to convince him to see the appeal of the wide open space and the green grass of the quad just outside the library.
You would spread a small blanket on the grass, and sprawl there with your books or laptops. There were times when your friends would join you but when they did, you’d spend the time chatting instead of studying, so you limited their participation.
Other times, you opted for the cozy cafe outside the campus,  books spread across the table. That space was more intimate and somehow, private. You would read through notes and discuss theories over coffee and dessert. Sometimes, you’d just be talking about random things.
At a glance, it would seem like you spend every day with him without fail, but that wasn’t the case. You studied together once every two days, for only two to three hours max. But it was enough time to fall harder for Renjun. When you weren’t together, you’d be thinking of him. And when he was right before your eyes, your thoughts would still be filled with him. When you were out doing things you usually did with your friends, you wondered who he was hanging out with, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in books.
One day, Renjun suggested a detour after your study session. “There’s this little bookshop near campus,” he said. “It’s got a good vibe. You’ll like it.”
You followed him through winding streets until you reached a hole-in-the-wall shop with dusty windows and a bell that jingled as you entered. The air smelled like old paper and candles. Renjun drifted toward the art section, his fingers skimming the spines of books.
“Here,” he said, pulling one out and handing it to you. “This one’s good.”
You looked at the title, a collection of essays on creativity. A smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the time Renjun complimented a creative essay you once showed him. “Are you trying to inspire me?”
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “The piece you showed me last time was really good. You need to write more of those.”
You hummed, looking around the shop. Your eyes stopped at a shelf of vintage sketchbooks and canvasses. “Well, in that case, you should sketch more,” you told him, beaming as you led him toward said shelf so you could pick one.
Later, back at your apartment, you flipped through the book, pausing on a passage about capturing fleeting moments. You thought of Renjun—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on his work. Your chest tightened with both affection and frustration. Just how much longer could you go on without telling him how you felt?
As long as you could, it seemed. The days passed, and the feelings only grew stronger, but Renjun remained blissfully unaware. Sometimes you wondered if he truly didn’t know, or if he was just pretending not to. You’d catch little moments—a smile, a glance—but you dismissed them. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe you were imagining it all.
You couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move. You were too shy, too scared of risking everything, too afraid that the warmth you thought you saw in his eyes was nothing more than your imagination. If you never confessed, you could never be rejected. And so, you kept quiet. It was easier this way. But even in the silence, you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.
And so it goes.
One day, you sprawled out on a blanket beneath the oak tree in the quad. Karina joined you, which was fine because she wasn’t as noisy as Giselle or Jaemin. Renjun was supposed to be studying, but he was sketching in his notebook instead, the soft scratch of pencil against paper the only sound you could hear from him.
You tried to focus on your notes, but your eyes kept drifting to him—how his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in that adorable way that made your chest tighten. His focus was so intense, so effortless, and it made you wonder if he even knew how attractive it was.
“What are you drawing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Just something,” Renjun replied, turning the sketchpad slightly toward you. “It’s not finished.”
“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, genuinely impressed by the details of his art. You glanced up at the oak tree, which was clearly the reference for his sketch. “How old do you think this tree is?”
Karina looked up from her tablet, following your gaze. “Probably a few decades old.”
“Seventy-three,” Renjun said, his eyes still on the tree. “They said it was planted by the founder of this school. It’s been here since.”
You smiled, looking back at the tree with new eyes. “Is that why it’s in such a weird spot on the school grounds? I always thought it looked out of place.”
“Hi, Jun!” she said, pulling your attention away. She was pretty, with an effortless kind of grace that immediately made you wonder who she was.
“Hi, Lia,” Renjun greeted back with a smile, and you couldn’t help but measure how much of a smile it was. Was it just friendly, or was there something more?
“Is that a sketchbook?” she asked, leaning down to peek over his shoulder.
“Uh, yeah,” Renjun said, closing it quickly, though not before she caught a glimpse of the pages.
“Wow,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re so talented. I didn’t know you could draw.”
Renjun laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I can, though I’m not that good at it.”
You felt your jaw clench as she lingered, her gaze fixed on him. It wasn’t subtle—how she twirled her hair, leaned just a little too close, like she was trying to get his attention in the most obvious way. But Renjun seemed oblivious, like it was all just normal.
Beside you, Karina tugged at your sleeve. When you exchanged looks, you saw the same confusion in her eyes.
“Who’s that?” she mouthed, and you could only shrug, your stomach tightening with an unfamiliar knot.
After she left, you tried to play it cool, but Renjun noticed the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in that endearing way.
“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that felt like a mask. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
It was hard to ignore the knot of frustration that settled in your stomach—jealousy, confusion, possessiveness. The way Lia had leaned in just a little too close, the way she smiled at him like she knew something you didn’t—it made your heart twist. You weren’t oblivious to it. She was clearly a competition. And you hated how much that thought stung.
But then, you reminded yourself: you were in no position to feel frustrated or jealous. You couldn’t expect him to cater to your feelings when you hadn’t done anything to express them. And even if he did know, he didn’t owe you anything. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was obligated to cater to whatever unspoken expectations you’d built in your head.
And so it goes. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and hoping he’d one day confirm that he too had feelings for you. That all this time, he’d been keeping it to himself worried that it might ruin your friendship.
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“Worried about your hair?” Renjun teased one day, while you were standing outside the cafe under the dull gray sky. It has started drizzling and you were wondering if you could make a run for it.
“No,” you shot back, laughing. “Are you worried about yours?”
“No, but just in case…” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella with cartoon characters. “I brought an umbrella.”
You stared at it, then at him. “Did you steal that from your little cousin or something?”
“It’s mine, actually,” he corrected nonchalantly. “I got it yesterday.”
“You’re walking around campus with that?” you snickered.
“Hey, Moomin is cool,” he said, unfazed. He popped the umbrella open. “And it’s functional.”
You giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I think it’s very cute.”
Renjun gave you a deadpan stare. “Ha-ha. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.
The two of you huddled under the umbrella, the sound of rain pattering against it. The closeness made your heart race, and you were hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours as you walked side by side. By the time you reached the library, your cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the rain.
Inside, you settled at a desk by the window. Renjun started sketching again, and you observed him quietly, wondering how much longer you could keep your feelings bottled up. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand being this close to him and not telling him everything.
You busied yourself with an assignment, racking your brain and going through your notes to come up with the best output. Anything to distract yourself from Renjun. And it worked for a while, until the appearance of a certain someone made it impossible to focus on anything at all.
“Renjun,” Lia said, appearing beside your desk with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”
“What’s up?” Renjun asked, setting his pencil down.
“There’s something I want to tell you.”
“Sure. What is it?”
Lia glanced at you with a glint of embarrassment in her eyes. “Can we talk there?”
“Alright.” Renjun nodded, rising to his feet. He gave you a small smile and a nod before following Lia.
You stayed at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of your notebook. You tried to focus on the notes spread across the table, but your eyes kept darting toward the direction Renjun and Lia had gone. What could they possibly be talking about? A prickle of curiosity crept under your skin, impossible to ignore. The logical part of you insisted it was none of your business. But another part—a louder, restless part—was dying to know.
Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the notebook, and your knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. You glanced out at the rain, trying to convince yourself to stay put, to respect their privacy, but your thoughts were spinning out of control. What if she was confessing? What if he said yes?
You shook your head, banishing the thought. You didn’t even know what they were talking about. For all you knew, it could be about something entirely irrelevant to confessions and feelings. Still, your chest tightened at the idea of them sharing something you weren’t a part of. Once again, you tried to focus on your work, but your resolve crumbled with each passing second.
“Fuck this,” you muttered, and before you knew it, your legs were moving, carrying you toward the shelves where they had disappeared. Your heart thudded in your ears as you peeked around the corner. There they were, standing by the window, their voices low.
“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” Renjun said, his tone warm. “You’re an amazing friend, and I’d hate to lose that.”
“No, not at all,” Lia assured him. “I actually just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for being honest.”
You covered your mouth, stopping the gasp that almost escaped your lips. You were right after all. Lia was confessing her feelings for Renjun!
They continued chatting briefly, their tones light and unstrained. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear there was no animosity. Lia seemed to take it well, laughing softly at something Renjun said before they started walking back.
Panicking, you quickly ducked behind another shelf, snatching a random book. When they passed by, you waited a few more moments before returning to the table. You then sat down across from Renjun, and when he noticed you, he gave you that easy smile that always made your chest flutter.
“Where were you?” he asked, one hand flipping a page in his sketchpad.
“I just grabbed something from there,” you lied, showing him the book you took from the shelf. “Are you done talking?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Nice, you thought to yourself, smiling. I think I’m good too.
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By the time the rain had stopped, you were done with your assignment and Renjun had packed his sketchpad away. These days, he had been drawing a lot, and it made you giddy each time you saw him take out the vintage sketchbook you got for him. Sometimes, you liked to think he was properly practicing his art because of you, but that was just something you told yourself. He didn’t really say or do anything to back it up.
As you glanced out the window, sunlight began to peek through the rain clouds, and you gestured toward it. “Looks like the weather is getting better. Should we head out?”
“Sure,” Renjun said, tucking his pencil into his bag. “We’ve been here long enough.”
The two of you walked side by side, the damp air cool against your skin. Renjun tugged on the sling of his bag, his gaze distant, as though he had something on his mind. You didn’t press him, though you were wondering what was bothering him. It was unusual to see him so conflicted—Renjun, who was always so calm and composed.
You let the silence stretch, looking around the campus grounds. There was nothing you could think of saying, and it didn’t seem like Renjun was in the headspace to talk about anything either. But then he let out a deep sigh, making you glance at him.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, peeking at his face.
“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, his voice low with a hint of uncertainty. “Have you ever had a friend confess their feelings for you?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe? I mean, I think most of the people who confessed to me were my friends at first.”
In your mind, you were wondering if he was asking because of his conversation with Lia earlier.
His lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes stayed distant. “Yeah, I figured. It’s just... earlier, Lia said she liked me. Romantically.”
You knew that already. “Okay. What happened?”
“Apparently, she felt that we had a really good connection. She enjoyed hanging out with me and started liking me because I was nice and all that.”
You hummed, urging him to continue.
“It got me thinking, I should probably draw lines with friendship. As flattering as it was to be ‘liked’, I don’t really want to keep unintentionally leading people on,” he continued, tugging your jacket sleeves gently to veer you away from a puddle.
“That’s fine. You can do that,” you told him, your eyes lingering on his hand on your jacket. “But it’s not your fault if people get the wrong idea. There’s nothing wrong with you or your personality. That’s just how you are as a person.”
“You think so?”
You glanced up at him. “Yeah. But I do understand Lia though. It happens to some. Sometimes people catch feelings, even if they know they shouldn’t,” you chuckled, hoping Renjun wouldn’t notice you were literally talking about yourself.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging. “I wasn’t trying to make her like me like that. I’ve spent way more time with you than with her, but you don’t feel that way for me.”
You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat as a jolt of panic engulfed you. Your chest was tightening as if all the air was being sucked out of you. Renjun kept walking ahead, oblivious, until he realized you weren’t beside him
“What are you doing?” he asked and you couldn’t answer him, so you bit your lip nervously.
What should you do? Should you let his assumption slide? Or should you finally be honest and tell him what’s been bugging you all this time? What if you said something you couldn’t take back?
“Is something wrong?” he asked again, reaching for your shoulder.
“I-I…” you stammered, locking eyes with him. His gaze was steady, but your thoughts were a mess. You swallowed hard. “You’re wrong. I do feel that way.”
It was his turn to be stunned. His brows furrowed slightly, and his hand on your shoulder loosened as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. 
“Actually, I have felt that way before we even became friends,” you continued. Your chest tightened further, but there was no turning back now. “It was just a crush at first, but I got to know you and I just fell harder. I have feelings for you, Renjun and I don’t know what to do with it. I just know I had to tell you about it.”
Renjun still didn’t say anything, flustered and confused by your sudden confession. In your mind, you were screaming, hoping you could fast forward and skip this part because it was making you cringe with embarrassment. But you couldn’t back out—not now that you’d spilled everything out.
The two of you continued to stare at each other, seemingly communicating with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. Your mind raced with questions and possibilities, all pointing at Renjun and begging for him to finally say something. Every brain cell in your head was rioting, a chaos that was the complete opposite of the weighted silence stretching between you and Renjun.
And when his hand  slowly slipped away from your shoulder, you held your breath again, bracing yourself for what was about to come.
“I’m so sorry.”
Your heart sank to your stomach, and you released the breath you were holding. Those three words—though short and straightforward—were enough to sum up everything Renjun was about to say. You already knew what it meant, and despite the heavy weight settling on your chest at his words, you somehow hoped he’d surprise you with a plot twist.
“I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I really just wanted to be friends with you. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.
You nodded, even though the words stung. He didn’t need to finish for you to understand. “It’s alright. I understand.”
He sighed your name out, shoulders sagging as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. You smiled, despite the turmoil in your head. It was hard to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you—hurt, embarrassment, frustration—but you forced it down. You could handle this. You could take it like an adult.
“Renjun, it’s fineee,” you said, your voice a little lighter than you felt. You laughed softly, almost as if to convince yourself. “I said I wanted to tell you about it. I wasn’t asking you to reciprocate or anything.”
He still looked uncertain, his brows furrowed with that familiar concern you could never shake. But you didn’t want to drag this out any longer, didn’t want to let him see how much his words had hit you. It wasn’t his fault.
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you added, giving him a small wave as if to dismiss the whole conversation. “We’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.”
Renjun hesitated for a moment, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure how to handle your response. You could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, and that made you want to reassure him more.
“Really,” you said with a shrug, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. I’m starving. I need to get home and make some food, otherwise I’d be eating takeout again for dinner.”
You both continued down the path, the sound of your footsteps against the wet pavement the only noise between you. Renjun didn’t say anything more, but you could feel his gaze on you, lingering with that worried expression. He was probably still processing everything. You could almost hear him overthinking it in his head, trying to figure out if he had somehow hurt you.
But for now, you were just grateful to keep moving. You had your pride, and you had your space. And for a moment, despite the mess of it all, you felt a small wave of relief.
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You said you’d be fine, that nothing would change between you and Renjun. But as the last few days of the semester rolled around, you found yourself doing what any mature, emotionally stable woman would do—avoid him like the plague. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse—last-minute assignments and projects that seemed to always appear every end of semester. You were both swamped with coursework, so really, it wasn’t avoidance; it was just conveniently timed busyness. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
You also told yourself it was just temporary. You’d heal, bounce back, and return to being the friend who could sit across from Renjun without your stomach twisting into knots. After all, you were still friends. Nothing had changed, right?
Wrong. In the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract you from your thoughts, the truth would play itself on a loop: it had changed. The ache that would creep in your chest was sharp and annoyingly persistent like a bad pop song stuck on repeat. No matter how hard you tried to bury it under denial, it kept rising to the surface, demanding to be felt.
When Renjun texted you, your responses were cheerful, using the same emojis and the same upbeat tone to mask the fact that your heart was broken. You couldn’t tell if he bought it, but since his replies sounded as casual as ever, you figured your performance deserved an Oscar. Or at least a participation trophy for effort.
Your roommates, Karina and Giselle, noticed it. They could tell something was off. You had always been the one who kept things light and bright, the one who filled the room with laughter and jokes. But now, they could see the small cracks. They could hear the silence that replaced your usual chatter, the way you kept to yourself more often. Even your jokes had gone from playful to suspiciously self-deprecating. 
“Girl, you don't look okay. Like, at all!” Giselle had told you once.
“This is fine,” you’d said with a lopsided grin. “I’m just living my sad rom-com arc. All I need now is a montage of me crying in the rain, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”
It was even more obvious to Jaemin, who, instead of teasing you or trying to get under your skin, seemed to have adopted a strategy of quiet support. He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t try to fix things, and—bless him—didn’t say, “I told you so”. You appreciated the space, but you also hated the awkwardness that had replaced his usual antics. You didn’t like it when he walked on eggshells around you, and it only made you feel worse.
“You know you can talk to us, right?” Karina offered again one night, her voice full of concern. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”
“Thanks, but really, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off with a half-hearted laugh. “This is character development. Pain builds personality, or something like that.”
Giselle handed you a tub of ice cream. “Here, have a snack while your character is developing.”
No amount of jokes or distractions could fully numb your heartache. You kept telling yourself you’d get through it, that it would pass, but every time you were alone with your thoughts, the weight settled back onto your chest. You weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending to be okay, but for now, the show had to go on.
Then, by the time spring break was around the corner, the heaviness in your chest had started to lift. It wasn’t gone entirely but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been two weeks ago. You were finding your way back to yourself already. Giselle even pointed it out one evening while you were packing for the trip home.
“Hey, look at you, humming again,” she teased, flopping onto your bed. “I was starting to think Renjun broke you for good.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. “Oh please. He wasn’t even a fling. Being rejected by a crush wouldn’t break me,” you said, folding another shirt into your bag. “Besides, it’s my first spring break. I can’t walk out of this campus brokenhearted.”
“Aha, I see you’ve found your lost vigor for real fun.” Giselle gave you an approving nod, like a coach satisfied with her team’s performance. “Progress. I’ll take it.”
The next day, as you walked across campus for one last errand before heading home, you spotted Renjun. He was walking toward the library, balancing a stack of books in one hand and holding his bag in the other. You hesitated for a moment, instinctively considering walking in the opposite direction, but the impulse passed as quickly as it came.
You reminded yourself you were okay now—or at least getting there. Avoiding him would only keep you stuck, and besides, the two of you were still friends. Nothing had changed. Right?
“Hey,” you called out, jogging up to him.
Renjun turned at the sound of your voice, a small smile forming when he saw you. “Oh, hey! I thought you left already.”
“Not yet. I’m heading out later today,” you said, nodding at the books in his hand. “Still cramming in some last-minute reading?”
“No, I’m returning these,” he said with a chuckle. “What about you? Got big plans for spring break?”
You grinned. “Are you kidding me? Of course, it’s our first one as college students. You?”
He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “Just going home. Last night, my mom sent me a whole list of chores waiting for me when I get back.”
You laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy between you two again, like the past few weeks hadn’t happened.
“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, his tone softening. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I thought it would be wrong to bring it up when we’re not face-to-face.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you thought about brushing it off, but you realized you didn’t need to. Not anymore. “I wasn’t,” you admitted with a small smile. “But only for a bit. I’m okay now. Really.”
Renjun studied your face, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”
A comfortable silence settled between you, and for once, it wasn’t suffocating. It didn’t feel like something was left unsaid or hanging in the air.
“Well,” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder, “I should get going. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do during spring break.”
You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You have fun with your chores too.”
“I don’t know if I will, but I’ll make sure to try,” he replied, chuckling. “Text me if you need anything though, okay? Or if you're bored, I don't know. Just... Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."
“I will,” you promised, waving as you walked away.
As you made your way across campus, you fished your phone out of your pocket, remembering that Karina once told you about a confessions page on X. It was called NCIT Campus Confessions, and after skimming through the posts, you typed in a submission of your own:
To HRJ, Maybe I will finally learn my lesson. -xx
You felt lighter. Maybe not entirely free from the disappointment, but enough to know that you’d be okay. After all, it wouldn’t do to carry heartache with you to a place as vibrant and alive as Aruba.
[To be continued in Wonderland]
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obeymefanfiction ¡ 2 days ago
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Kiss or Dare: Leviathan
Obey me! Fanfiction (July 2020) see masterlist Featuring: Levi X Neutral Reader Word Count: 1800 Disclaimer: Characters are the rightful property of NNT Solemare Inc. “Shall We Date” Warnings: Kissing fluff/Angst Note: adapted from an old fanfiction of mine. “Hey Levi. What’s wrong?” You and Levi were playing video games during a lazy afternoon. Usually Levi loved times like this, but your question made him jump. Crap! You noticed? He’d been trying to keep you from noticing how anxious he was! “Ah nothing, I’m just… off or something today.” Levi lied rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. He didn’t want to tell you about what happened earlier. About how Mammon promised to return his money if he… er… well… k-kissed you.
When he was talking to the big dummy of a brother of his he thought at the time it wouldn’t be that big of deal. You two were close so you wouldn’t take it the wrong way or anything… right? You’d be cool with one… k-kiss. You knew his heart was totally set on Ruri-Chan and… and even though he loved it when you leaned close enough for your hair to brush against his cheek—selfies were a must now between you—or those times when he wondered why you smelled better than a new game arriving in the mail. Not to mention he’d observed your lips appeared particularly soft and appealing. He was certain if he touched— No. This was a bad idea. What if you did get offended? Or if you did take him seriously? He didn’t know if he could handle that. At first he thought he could just explain—but that never went well in all of the magna he had read! What if you took it the wrong way and he… lost you? That’d be worse than losing Henry 2.0. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. It was bad enough that he had to share you with his brothers so much of the time. You’d become like his side kick the past few weeks. He’d come to just expect you to stick around and… He couldn’t lose you. Levi jolted to attention when your hand reached up and pushed back his bangs allowing your fingers to brush against his forehead. The sudden contact with your gentle warmth left him speechless as his eyes widened and turned to search yours for an explanation. “Nope, you don’t seem to have a fever. Do you need some water or something? Are you feeling dehydrated? Hungry?” Levi blinked at you. Oh. You touched him to check his temperature? Wow. He liked that. He really liked that. In fact his face was suddenly burning hot and he wanted to go take a swim with Henry. He released an unsteady breath before attempting to talk to you. “I’m not sick. Mammon just said something that upset me.” “Oh no! Why didn’t you tell me Levi? I’m sorry. Maybe we should be watching a Ruri Chan movie instead to help you feel better?” Oh you were the best human in the entire world, weren’t you?
Levi cut that thought off mid “beam” and tried to focus on now. “No, it’s fine. He just talked me into something when I should have said no. I hate it when he does that. He’s such a—” “What is he making you do?” You sigh sympathetically. With those big beautiful eyes looking at you and your kind smile and you sitting so close he couldn’t help feeling how much you cared about him. “He said he’d pay me back all of my money he owes me. I just have to do one thing first.” “Oh Mammon.” You groaned. “Levi, you shouldn’t have to do anything to get your money back. It was yours to begin with.” “I know, but what he asked me to do didn’t sound so bad. I thought it’d be fine. Then I thought about it some more and how so many things could go wrong and I’m not sure I can do it now.” Levi gave a defeated sigh to the controller in his lap. “What did he ask you to do? Maybe I can help?” You volunteered. Oh no. He couldn’t tell you. Uh oh! Levi began to panic. This was going to go wrong. He knew it was. He just knew it. “Nothing. I’m-uh-not going to do it. I’ll just figure something else out. So, forget it.” His face felt like it was on fire as he turned his back to you. “Leeeeeeviii! I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is. If it’s too ridiculous I volunteer to go yell at Mammon for you and get your money back.” “You… you’d do that?” Levi felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get mad at him? Maybe he could just explain how dumb he thought it was and you’d laugh? Maybe— “He told me to kiss you.” The words just came out. As soon as they did Levi wanted to clap his hands over his mouth and flee the room. You went perfectly still. Well except for your eyes of course. Those went wide and seemed to be getting wider the longer he looked at you. He realized he needed to say something else. He needed to tell you all the reasons this was upsetting him so you wouldn’t think he was—well—as dumb as he felt at the moment. Nothing happened. He couldn’t get any words out. Not with you staring at him like that. Oh no. How could he say anything to you now? Crap crap crap crap crap!! “Levi… um… I can tell you’re uncomfortable with this. Is that because you wouldn’t… want to?” “Wouldn’t want to?” He echoed your words. “I—uh—wouldn’t want to if you didn’t want me to __. That’s why I’m upset. If it made things weird between us. I didn’t want to do it. Even if it did convince Mammon to give me back my money.” “So… you were nervous because you didn’t want to upset me? Awe Levi! You are so awesome.” Your expression softened and wave of relief washed over him. You weren’t mad? You understood why he was so upset over this? Oh he felt so much better now. Especially because—oh wow—you were now hugging him. It was too much but not enough and his heart was pounding and you smelled so good and— “I’m not sure how I got so lucky to have you as my otaku. I’m the luckiest human ever.” Your words made him blush harder and he tried to think of something to say. Compliments were obviously out because he’d mess them up. Maybe he could suggest the two of you could watch that Ruri-Chan movie and turn this afternoon around? He gulped and found the courage to hug you back. Your hair brushed against his cheek summoning a smile, and the words finally started to come. “You’re just really important to me. I feel like you’re the only normie that gets me and if I made you upset over something like this…” Levi shrugged. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll just go tell Mammon to give me my money back and we can forget about this.”
“Oh. So, you didn’t…” You pulled back and your gaze dropped. Wait, why did your gaze just drop away from his? Did you want to? Nah. Not with a yukky Otaku like him. So what was bothering you? “__? I thought you weren’t upset about this?” “No, I-I’m not. You’re right, Mammon shouldn’t have suggested it. I just thought… I thought it was really sweet you cared about how I felt. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t---well want—um—to kiss me.” Wow. Levi didn’t know you could turn that shade of red. “I was thinking you might, I guess, and I was really happy that you might. That’s all.” “Wait… you’re saying you’d want me to?” You shrug still blushing fiercely. “Not necessarily because Mammon told you to. But if you did because you wanted to I… I’d like that. I just never thought you’d want to, so when you sounded all upset that I might get upset over it I thought—maybe that was because you might like to kiss me too?” Too. Too? As in you would want him to kiss you… also. He didn’t think he could possibly blush to death but just now it felt like it might happen. “So, you would…” “Only if you would… but yeah.” “And it wouldn’t be weird?” “Not weird at all.” Huh. It certainly felt weird already. Would kissing you just make it worse? Or worse would not kissing you make you think he lied about wanting to kiss you? Oh man! Why did he ever agree to this? He was never speaking to Mammon again once he got his money back. “Levi you don’t have—” You broke off when his gaze crashed into yours. You were already so close and looked so confused. As confused as he felt. He wasn’t sure how it happened—if you leaned in or he did—but the warmth of your mouth against his was… it was… wow. Levi’s eyes slid closed and he couldn’t resist leaning closer. Allowing his lips to brush over yours in a gentle caress that you echoed. Your mouth tasted so sweet and soft and… wow you smelled even better when he was this close to you. When he felt your tongue brush curiously against his lips his mind seemed to go haywire. He couldn’t resist moving closer. Holding you against him, feeling your warmth, letting his tongue seek out yours and tangle with it in a heated dance. Then you moaned and he nearly lost all sense of reason as he rolled on top of you. Laying you back so he could kiss you more—taste you more. He wanted to kiss you until he knew every sensitive place in your mouth, every curve of your tongue and your lips. The warmth of your hands cupped his face and you whispered his name against his lips. “Levi?” His eyes opened slowly. Taking in your beautiful expression. Your smile and the warm glow in your eyes. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted that.” “No, you weren’t.” “Are you going to tell Mammon?” You raised an eyebrow teasingly and he felt the burning heat run up the back of his neck at the thought. At last he shook his head. “No way. I’m not dealing with him right now. Not when I could be here with you.” “Good answer.” You leaned up and captured his mouth again with yours. Soon he was too encompassed by the warmth of your kiss to think of anything else.
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tealmagicmoon ¡ 21 hours ago
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I think we should start a positive trend in the fandom
SPRED THE HASTAGE I LOVE TSBS WRITING
because (I’m guilty of this two) the positive side is quite compared to the bad side. I know moving forward I’m going to put disclaimers on all character rants or theory’s or ep reviews talking about how I love the writing I’m just taking about the characters and my opinions. I noticed that in my posts unless give consistently read my previous posts I come off a dick and I sound like I’m insulting the writing even if I’m not meaning two and that’s on me.
Let’s take my opinion on Earth’s character
I think Earth used to put her own need to feel like she’s helpful so she can be a good person onto other to the point where it was manipulative. I don’t know she did it on purpose but I do think she didn’t do enough to change.
But this is where I’m in the wrong. Because Earth changed and I saw and appreciated that but in my posts there are FAR more that express my negative views on Earth compared to the positive ones.
And that’s because I didn’t think I had much to say about it when I know I could have. It’s because wording positive things is harder then negative for me so when I would try I would get bored and give up mid way never posting my thoughts on them.
(For the people who will take this out of context:
No I’m not judging Earth because she’s a woman I’m critiquing my old opinion of Earth that was made based on her actions towards others.)
I’m aware that the main problem that is effecting the shows is not people like me however we don’t do enough to help.
So why am I making this post? Well self-reflection mainly but also-
Kat and Davis I know you leark (idk if that’s how u spell it) on tumbler so if any of my posts made you feel like this I’m so sorry I contributed to this negativity. I should have tagged and disclaimed my posts and made it clear to an unfamiliar person that I’m not just shitting on a character but I failed to do so. I love you and your writing I’ve been learking and watching you both since FTO S4 and TFF Security breach and your SCP series. I really love your stuff and I’ve always love your writing. I don’t think I’ve expressed that enough.
@queenkatluv
@theinvisibledavis
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silverfoxlou ¡ 3 months ago
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well he should stop giving me reasons to 🤷🏽‍♀️
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crushedsweets ¡ 4 months ago
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It makes me sooo sad when people make a cute/happy/familial/ship/fandomy creepypasta post and they feel the need to be like “but I get it’s totally unrealistic like it could never be canon like I know they’re actually heartless and would kill eachother but I just like when they’re happy ik it’s cringe stupid fanon though” YOU DESERVE TO MAKE A HAPPY OR SILLY OR CUTE POST WITHOUT REPRIMANDING YOURSELF FOR ENJOYING THE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS YOUVE PROBABLY LOVED SINCE CHILDHOOD!!!! YOU SHOULDNT HAVE TO DEFEND YOUR INTEREST IN LIGHTHEARTED FLUFFY CONTENT!!! IT IS A BEAUTIFUL THING TO CONSUME POSITIVE CONTENT!!! YOU DO NOT HAVE TO CONSUME HARDCORE EDGY CRUEL GRUESOME CONTENT IF ITS NOT YOUR PREFERENCE!!!! Please. We all want you to be happy. Whether you enjoy fandom-style content or dark serious horror.
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crayoncat-works ¡ 5 days ago
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recent olba sketches
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fleouriarts ¡ 8 months ago
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mini sketchbook dump. lowkey forgot this thing existed until last week
descriptions/refs and such below
1. based on one of the pics i took w hivemind, i told them to do cute poses and riley decided to just go O__O at the camera??? hes so silly <3
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2. another livemind thing but this time it's from the video i took of them slow dancing. if i ever say no to a hivemind gay moment... call the cops my identity has been stolen for sure
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3. finally drew one of my favorite little hivemind moments EVER oh my god they are so cute. literally me and who
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4. this is just a cute pic of riley that i'd drawn literally right when i started doing hivemind fanart so i thought i'd redraw it. adding both the ref pic and my drawing from june 2023 so you can gawk at how much more angular my style has gotten
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5. my dearest hex aka @gaydonweaver sent me this old pic of graydon (from a 2018 video i think) and i was enamored with his fluffy hair so i had to draw it
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5. another one of my favorite cute hivemind moments... real compilationheads will recognize this as the thumbnail for 'hivemind juicy kissable boyfriend moments' which i remember riley being caught watching on stream 😭 im never gonna forget that i think its so fucking funny
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also the section under the cut is a SAFE SPACE so here's some silly and kinda embarrassing sona doodles i did around these
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catwafers ¡ 1 year ago
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does anyone have the time to bring me down and can i sleep all night long, to the drums of the city rain
(not ship art)
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icewindandboringhorror ¡ 2 months ago
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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wyrmalien ¡ 10 months ago
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WHEN YOU ARE HER AND HE IS YOU AND SHE IS HIM : gip hoppe's the fall of the house of usher
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thegreatyin ¡ 2 months ago
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The Silverer lazily reclines in the Scoundrel's bed. At first, it is unclear where she came from, but the mirrors in the room look recently tampered with- so the answer is easy to arrive at.
"Fingerkings." she says. "Your semi-loyalty to cats has always been a mystery to me; you've never been the kind to be loyal to any army. Why is it that you scorn my friends so?"
The Scoundrel stops in their doorway for approximately one straight minute. They blink once. Twice.
They promptly skip over and flop beside the intruder with a huff, resting their head on her shoulder as they study their claws in abject boredom. It's surprisingly cuddly, all things considered. They almost seem content in this position.
"One," they hold up a finger, "The cats provide an essential service. They pay us for our time at Port Carnelian. We pay them in kind. We have long-since established a working relationship. It would be a shame to break that establishment now... and thus, their enemies are our enemies."
"Two," yet another finger, "As persons- tja, animals- of noble status, it is only right that they rule Parabola. It's merely the natural order of things. The Fingerkings refuse to recognize that claim, and they should be punished accordingly."
"Three," they bring this finger over to tap at the Silverer's nose, "Your beloved serpents are duplicitous and vile and cats are adorable, delightful creatures, who have never done anything wrong in their lives. Ja, even regarding the Sixth Coil."
Before the Silverer can retort, the Scoundrel raises a fourth finger- and then their thumb, just for the apparent hell of it, patting her cheeks with a satisfied purr. "Four. It is a bother to you in particular. And we do love the faces you make..."
They trail off, meeting her gaze.
Their cheeks flush. Their ears twitch. They blink furiously, then turn away and shove their heel against her shoulder.
"Which is all to say, get out of our spire already!!" they point towards the door with a chirp bordering on a shriek. "You have a perfectly good paramour to steal a bed from!!! He wouldn't even complain about it!!!! This is our room!!!!!! Out!!!!!!!!"
A productive conversation, this was not.
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mirrortouchedsea ¡ 27 days ago
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dark. that was all he had ever known. cold, dark, damp. the boy shivers in the small room, painfully alone, only a book and his magic to keep him company. he tries not to use his magic very often, though. it seemed that the people above knew when he used it and they always always always refused to give him food until he “woke up” next, if they bothered to keep track of that. maybe this time he’ll learn their lesson. the boy whispers his spell, cur memini, and creates a small light in his fingers. this is the only spell he can cast safely, too small to be noticeable by the people above. he holds his hand over the fading book on the floor. the boy can’t read the letters on the page, but this book has pictures. he flips through it again, careful of the pages that were falling apart, admiring the figure in armor who always comes to rescue the figure in the tower, cut off from the world, just like him. the boy frequently dreams of a figure in armor coming to save him, despite the years he has spent alone. dark and cold and damp. 
the room the boy lives in, the only room he has memories of, is empty besides himself and the book. sometimes the people above would give him water and stale bread to eat, and then there was a cup and a dirty plate, but otherwise it was just the boy and the book. the boy knows why the people above have locked him away, they told him that he was a freak of nature, unnatural, dangerous. but the boy could only make lights in his palm, and that wasn’t very dangerous at all. he thinks to himself that the people above are the dangerous ones, locking away a child for something like this, but he can’t say that out loud. he doesn’t want to die again. 
the boy’s stomach grumbles and he curls in on himself, the light in his palm fades out. he longs to see the sun again, to play with the other children he can hear through the ceiling, to be normal. the people above must have decided to punish him again, though, as he doesn’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, to eat. his stomach would eat through his skin and he would still wake up the next day. why can’t he just die once and for all and be rid of the pain? why is the world keeping him here? why was he even born?
the boy closes his eyes, and falls asleep. maybe this time it won’t hurt so much. 
--- 
how long has he been here? the boy doesn’t keep track of time. he knows he’s died at least a dozen times, but how long does it take for a dozen lifetimes to pass? 
--- 
a clattering on the floor wakes the boy up. the people above decided he can eat today. stale bread and water again, but better than nothing to the boy. he crawls closer to it, listening to the door. it closes and the voices disappear. where was the sound of the lock? did they forget? 
the boy scarfs down his food and water before tiptoeing up the stairs. he doesn’t hear any voices, but he needs to be careful. he doesn’t remember what the above looks like, but he needs to leave. he needs to be free. 
slowly, quietly, he opens the door. it’s dark on the other side of it, but still much, much brighter than his room ever was. he closes his eyes but keeps the door open. breathe in, and out. opens his eyes again, blinking the brightness away. pushes the door further open. steps on the hard ground outside the door. he’s so close. closes the door quietly. turns around and holds his breath. where was outside? pick a direction and go. his legs hurt. turn the corner, listen for voices. voices are dangerous, get away from the voices. whisper his spell, create a small light. keep moving keep moving keep moving. window ahead. break it? open it? is he strong enough? lift the window up. too weak. voices coming. hurry hurry hurry must get out now. whisper spell again, hand on window. break the glass and jump through it. cuts on feet cuts on legs deal with that later. voices getting louder voices shouting. run run RUN. 
the boy runs away from the building, away from his room. freedom is so close. first get to the trees, then… he hasn’t thought that far, but he will find a way. gunshots from the house. he runs faster, must get to the trees, must hide, must be free. cur memini, he whispers again, crossing into the forest. his spell can make lights and now break windows, but he needs it to protect him at this moment. run run run until the voices are quiet again. his legs are giving out, but he needs to run. he can’t die now or they’ll find him. keep running. bare feet on sticks and stones and sharp things, everything hurts but he can’t stop. he keeps running until the sun comes up. his heart beats out of his chest. 
--- 
when he wakes up he doesn’t know how much time has passed. his heart beats fast and he sits up. did they find him? he looks around. trees, rocks, a gurgling stream. he’s free. he’s free. he sighs and lays back down. how far did he run? he needs to go further. away from other people, away from anyone who might lock him up again. he sits up again and forces himself to stand and walk towards the sound of the stream. he can start there. water is important, and he might be able to get food from the little stream too. 
his first drink of the stream water is icy cold, quenching his lifelong thirst in just a few swallows. he washes his face with it, removing years of sweat and grime. he wants to sit by the stream forever if only he could, but the people will find him eventually if he doesn’t keep moving. but he allows himself a few minutes to bathe in the water, savoring the feeling of water on his skin. his stomach still growls, wanting something more filling than the freezing water of the stream, but that would have to wait. he needs to get his bearings. 
the light of the outside world is almost blinding, he realizes. the sun and the snow made it almost impossible to see anything. he should get up above the trees. can he even do that? cur memini, he says, trying to get his voice to be louder than a whisper. his feet float a few inches above the ground. he closes his eyes and says his spell again with more conviction. Cur Memini. he feels himself shooting into the air before he opens his eyes. he can see the forest stretch out for miles around him. trees covered in snow in every direction. if the old house is behind him, he should fly straight ahead, towards the forests on the mountains. tentatively, he leans forward and focuses his magic on keeping himself afloat. 
it doesn’t take much to exhaust what little magic he has, but he’s put more distance between himself and the old house and the people above now. he should be safe to rest, truly rest. but first he should find something to eat. is there anything to eat out here? something in his head tells him to look a little closer to the ground. to his left. there’s a bush full of berries. he’s never had anything but stale bread, and doesn’t know what to expect as he crushes one with his teeth. 
the sensation overtakes him for a brief moment. the berry is sweet, yet tart, and delicious. it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten and he thanks the little voice in his head for the information as he picks several more berries from the bush. the juice runs down his chin and makes him sticky, but it feels good. he feels truly alive for the first time. 
once he’s finished picking the bush clean of its fruits, he needs to find a place to rest, to stay warm. he’s shivering in the intense cold of the north, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to. the room was never very warm after all. he listens to the little voices calling out to him, guiding him towards a small cave, instructing him on how to make a small fire to warm himself up. a small rabbit brushes against his leg and he swears one of the voices is coming from it. and with the fire going, he thanks the rabbit before it hops away back into the snow. he would be roasting that same rabbit over the fire a few months later. 
the boy can’t stay in the cave forever though. as days turn to weeks turn to months, he worries that the people above are getting closer to him. they’ll put him back in that cold, dark, damp room again. he needs to keep moving. he has been practicing his magic, casting stronger spells, and he needs to be ready to fly. it's been long enough. cur memini he says holding his hand out. a rough stick with twigs tied to the end flies into his hand. it’s a poor excuse for what he understands is a broom, but it will work. he climbs onto it and focuses. cur memini cur memini cur memini. he lifts off the ground and watches as the branches of the trees get shorter and eventually he passes above the treetops. 
he takes a moment to gather his bearings. he no longer remembers the direction the house was in, but going up is his best bet of staying away from the people above. he laughs, realizing that he is the one above them now. after a moment, he flies into the mountains. the small voices change into bigger, unfamiliar ones as he gets further into the mountain range. they tell him to hide, to stay away. he doesn’t listen. they cannot be more dangerous than the humans he is running from. 
the boy lands, still exhausted from using so much magic, but he was able to travel further this time. that has to count for something, surely. he gathers some sticks and looks for another cave to make his home in. the caves remind him too much of the room he left, so he chooses to stay close to the entrance, close to the light that reminds him he is free. the fire keeps the animals away, but the voices are curious about the new presence in their woods. they make him curious too. he should stay in the cave tonight though and regain his energy. maybe he can get some small game to fill his stomach before settling in for the night. he listens for a rabbit’s voice, or maybe a squirrel, anything that would be small enough to kill with his hands. 
at last, a small fox’s voice is heard nearby. he wonders if fox will taste different from the other game he’s eaten thus far. he lifts a hand-sized rock and slinks out of the cave towards the voice. it takes a few minutes to find the source, but the fox is curled under a tree, shivering, hungry, just like him. the boy hesitates before bludgeoning it and slinging the corpse over his shoulders. there are more foxes. he is much more important. 
the fox is only the first animal he hunts in those mountainous woods. he spends several years in that forest and eventually humans settle up there as well. the boy, or rather, the man now, has made a name for himself amongst the human populations of the north. he is no longer afraid of humans capturing him and locking him up. they are still terrified of him, but now he is in control of that terror. the hunters that left his territory alive whispered tales of the great wizard owen who inhabited the mountains and terrorized anyone who had the bad luck of running into him. 
all of this is perfectly fine with owen. eventually his reputation will grow beyond himself, encapsulating atrocities that were impossible for even someone as strong as oz to commit, but that would be a problem for future owen. for now, he is still young and living in his cave on the outskirts of a small village and scaring hunters who stray too far from their boundaries. the wolves don’t like these visitors either and gladly listen to owen’s lamentations. it keeps his hands clean of the bloodshed if he isn’t casting the spell himself. the wolves don’t care for owen either, but they respect him. and that is enough for owen. 
the first of the unwanted visitors was a young man, someone who wanted to provide for his family. he pleaded with owen and the wolves to let him go and he wouldn’t cause any problems. those pleas fell on deaf ears though as owen looked the man in the eyes. won’t your family be disappointed, he asked almost innocently, you don’t have anything to show for your efforts. the man stammered a response, they’d rather i come back alive with nothing than die trying to find food. is that so, owen reached out for the man’s chin, the distance between their faces was almost nothing. y-yes, sir, please just let me go and i won’t bother you anymore. owen grinned. oh i’m sure you won’t be causing us any trouble again. the wolves stalked out of the woods, drooling at the prospect of tearing a piece of that man for themselves. owen snapped his fingers, and they came running forward, only to stop mere inches from the now trembling man. there was a suspicious yellow stain in the snow beneath him. p-p-please sir, anything you ask, it’s yours! then make sure you tell the rest of your little village that this forest belongs to the great wizard owen. the man ran off, leaving behind a hunting rifle and a ratty sack. the rifle would be of use, but the sack became tinder for his fires. 
despite the warning from that first man, hunters continued to enter into owen’s territory. and one after the other, they ran off screaming with their tails between their legs. this should have annoyed owen, that people would ignore all of the warnings and stories that had started popping up about him, but it doesn’t. their fear feeds into his magic power, only making him stronger, and that is all fine with owen. he is no longer a weak child locked in the damp, dark basement, and he never will be again. 
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tragedykery ¡ 6 months ago
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english is so correct for the word “moon” that’s exactly the right word for it. double o for visualising the roundness (x2)! u/ʉ vowel similar to the sound of a wolf howling! & I can’t explain it but a word for moon simply Needs to have a nasal consonant in there, and the english one has not just one, but two of those thangs. my sincerest apologies to other languages but english really wins this one
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usercelestial ¡ 9 days ago
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my genuine real theory about why oliver says things like "buck has a revolving door of love interests and he's trying to find love" and then turn around and seemingly not care about any of buck's romantic storylines or actually care if buck finds love is that he's just rolling with the punches and saying things that agree with tim minear's story. it feels like a mixture of the classic oliver stark pussy-footing around shit so he doesn't get in trouble + just nodding and agreeing with whatever tim puts in front of him
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gregmarriage ¡ 2 months ago
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CATEGORY FIVE DYKE MOMENT™️: i want kissie 🥺
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