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#i have to maintain my gpa so i can get into college.
the-kneesbees · 1 month
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so nothings ever been difficult for me in my life because it was more difficult for you.
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copperyy · 6 months
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>__>
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saetoru · 1 year
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imagine rich boy gojo finding out your name for him in his phone is just “satoru” or something 💀 and then from the side geto is like “mine’s got an emoji!”
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NO HEART — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
rich boy! gojo, college au, fluff, established relationships, dramatic gojo which is consistent in every version of him no matter the au
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studying with gojo satoru is the worst idea you could ever allow to happen—and yet, every time he asks, you let it happen.
“baby, aren’t you getting my texts?” gojo pouts. it earns him an unimpressed glare from you as you look up from your textbook, a glare that makes him wilt while geto snickers from the corner.
“satoru, if you don’t stop bothering me while we’re supposed to be studying, so help me—”
“but it’s funny, look,” he whines. and before you can stop him, he picks up the untouched phone beside you, tapping the screen to unlock it. except, he doesn’t make it that far.
suddenly the world stills. it stops spinning on its axis. and suddenly, gojo satoru’s face is the dictionary definition of devastation.
“satoru, what’s wrong,” you furrow your brows.
“satoru. satoru? satoru?” he repeats, each time in more disbelief than the last.
“that’s….your name, yes?” you raise a brow. and then realization strikes your features—or so he thinks. he’s soon to find out he’s mistaken. “oh, sorry,” you snort, “toru, is that better? toru, get to studying—”
“my name in your phone is just satoru?” he asks, cutting you off like you’ve genuinely wounded him—the betrayal on his face and the shock in his voice are all too real.
you blink for a moment before you realize the source of his tantrum seems to be the contact name you have for him in your phone. only gojo satoru would find a way to make a big deal out of his own name, you think.
“well, yeah,” you shrug, “it’s your name. plus i had it set when i first got your number from that project. i hated you back then.”
“you called me gojo back then,” he squints accusingly.
“yeah that’s because it was gojo satoru at first,” you nod. from the side, you hear geto snicker again about the full government name to himself—which earns him a pillow thrown at his direction by gojo. “i deleted the gojo part when we started dating,” you add.
“oh so you can delete my surname once we started dating but you couldn’t even add a heart?” he asks, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed in that dramatic way he does. it’s a bit cute, the way he’s worked up over something so small—but it’s also entirely theatric, making you roll your eyes.
“would a heart make you feel better, satoru?” you purse your lips.
“no! not if you don’t add it because you want to,” he huffs, “you might as well just say you don’t love me!”
“satoru,” you sigh in exasperation. maybe if you didn’t have physics 1302 problems to work through—a whole six of them due before midnight, in fact—you would humor him in his elaborately dramatized attempt at getting your attention. but you have classes to pass and gpa’s to maintain, so you purse your lips instead. “it’s just a contact name. what’s mine?”
“it’s baby <3. with a heart. see?” sure enough, when his phone is turned to face you, it’s baby <3. with a heart.
“i have an emoji in my contact,” geto adds from the side, ever the instigator, “maybe it’s because i’m cuter—”
“you gave suguru’s an emoji?” he asks in distress, staring at you like you’ve told him you’ve cheated. you think you might hurt his feelings less if you did, with the way his lips are curled in a genuine frown.
“suguru set his own contact,” you defend, shooting the nuisance in the corner a sharp glare. geto only offers you a sly wink in return. “i didn’t realize you cared that much about contact names,” you shrug, “i can change it—”
“no need,” gojo huffs, holding up a hand to silence you as he turns away and sticks his nose in the air in defiance. “i’ll just change yours to your full government name. see how you like it.”
“satoru—”
“and you’re not getting a heart either,” he glares, deleting the <3 slowly just for show, making eye contact with you so you know the severity of your actions.
you roll your eyes, snatching your phone back as you shake your head. “if i make your contact baby <3 with a heart because you’re my baby, will that cheer you up,” you sigh.
he ponders it for a moment, as if debating the offer. and then his arms cross in defiance once more. “no. make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss emoji.”
“gross,” geto twists his face in disgust.
gojo turns to him, face blank and serious as he shoots, “single people should not speak when it’s not their turn,” before turning back to you. “i’ll consider forgiving you if you make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss.”
“okay,” you sigh, “baby boy it is.”
“with a kiss!” he glares.
“with a kiss,” you assure, rolling your eyes.
“can i also get a kiss?” he asks hopefully, eyes wide and bright and earnest enough to warm your heart.
you smile, chuckling at the way he looks so cute, at the way he melts your heart and makes you forget you have physics homework for a moment—but only for a moment because then you mumble, “no. now do your homework.”
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PLS THIS PROMPT KILLED ME
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lovelyhan · 1 year
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— meet cute of the century ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 25.4k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut
★ NOTES; it's finally done!! and it turned out to be the longest oneshot i've written ever T T i reaaally didn't mean it to become this long but i got overly self-indulgent so here we are :3c also psa that this story features a handful of other characters from the series, so if you find them familiar that's totally on purpose HEH
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, service top wonwoo, praise kink, voice kink, first time together, fingering, creampie, ofc they're grossly in love
★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @coffeestay - @jkbabiey
★ SERIES TAGLIST; @ti--red - @jeonwonhi - @gyusbabydoll - @xiaoting999 - @marksluvr0 - @ohmyhuenings - @downbadreading
P.S. i reserve the right to refuse to add you to my taglist if you don't have any age indicators in your profile :^)
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There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment. 
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically. 
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the employee roster anyways. 
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mina whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mina informs you of the news and she immediately breaks into a fit of laughter. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.” 
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into taking one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.” 
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mina. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch more colorful once he walks out of the front door. 
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him. 
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at a small black kitten huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.” 
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you? 
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.” 
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by. 
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home. Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real. 
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mina if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back. 
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mina tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange. 
“What makes you think that?” 
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.” 
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mina, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
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The next time you see Woo is, surprisingly, not at an ungodly hour in the shelter. 
Well, it’s still at an ungodly hour, but the change in venue is a little baffling. You were up all night studying (read: cramming) for a major exam that you’ll take at eight in the morning the next day. When you were finally at your wit’s end, you decidedly hauled yourself away from your laptop and fluttered off to the only twenty four-hour coffee shop in the neighborhood. 
You don’t usually frequent this place because you’ve tasted their shitty americanos firsthand, but you’re not in the mood to grind some beans yourself and you’re much too stubborn to drink anything instant—convinced the powdered concoction would only make you sleepier.
So here you are, in line for an espresso because you’ve decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe not everything on the menu tastes less than it’s worth. With how many other students are pulling all-nighters here, that should be testament enough that they tolerate the place’s drinks enough to linger. 
But, to your horror, when you’re right in front of the graveyard shift barista, he informs you that wireless payments have been temporarily disabled and that they’re only accepting cash up front. You make a show of patting down the pockets of your hoodie to check for your wallet even if you know damn well that you left it back at your apartment on purpose. Just when you’re about to resign yourself to buying shitty instant coffee at a Seven Eleven instead, the person behind you in line clears his throat. 
“Uh, I can pay for her drink.” 
You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head around to check for a person’s identity faster than you did at that moment. It’s not that you’re particularly obsessed with the low timber of his voice or anything, but you’d recognize the way the shelter’s late night regular speaks in a goddamn heartbeat.
“Woo?” you scowl as he maneuvers himself to the front of the line, bringing out that same Louis Vuitton wallet you were ogling the last time you saw him. 
He pulls out a few banknotes and places them on top of the counter with what you think is a smile behind his mask. “Couple that with four iced americanos please.”
You purposely hold your tongue about your personal vendetta against that particular drink as the barista nods, punching in Woo’s order and asking for a name. Just when you thought he’d say the same one he’d given when you’d asked, however—
“Soonyoung. Oh, and I’ll get those drinks to go, please.” 
Your gaze is on him the entire time as the two of you shuffle to the end of the counter to wait for your drinks. Woo is doing a pretty okay job at playing it cool despite the fact that he lied about the names on his orders. Or maybe he lied when he told you his name was Woo. 
Either way, does it matter? It’s not strange for people to make up fake names for baristas to write on their coffees—Mina does it all the time. But something about the idea that the man standing in front of you doesn’t look like a Soonyoung bothers you more than it should. It makes you wonder what his actual name is and if it’s weird to ask when he already gave you one to address him with—
“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he suddenly says and you nearly have a heart attack.
“Uh,” you start somewhat dumbly, before finally getting a hold of your brain. “I live around the area. Thought I could use a drink if I didn’t want to sleep through my lecture notes.”
He lets out a low chuckle and at that moment, you let yourself observe him a little more closely. His hair is hidden behind a black beanie which he expertly paired with an equally black parka that’s zipped up all the way. He’s wearing a different pair of glasses today—one with thick, black frames—and you’re starting to get an idea of what his favorite color might be.
“Is that why I haven’t seen you at the shelter these days?” he wonders. “Every time I dropped by last week, you weren’t on shift.”
Oh. Shit, he’s been visiting still? And he was looking for you?
“Yup, I needed to take a few days off because if I wanna graduate, I’ve got to keep myself from failing any of my majors,” you explain as briefly as you can—not wanting to go into detail about GPA requirements and your thesis. “How about you? Why’re you out and about at this hour, Soonyoung?”
It’s kind of adorable, how the tips of his ears flush pink at your words. “Soonyoung’s one of my friends. I actually went out tonight because I lost a bet and had to buy four of us coffee.”
You’re not sure how and why you feel a wave of relief wash over you, so instead, you brush the feeling aside before leaning against the counter. “Lost a bet about what, pray tell?”
Woo is quiet for a while, as if contemplating if he should unveil his losses to someone who’s virtually still a stranger before letting out a defeated sigh.
“Mario Kart.”
The snort you let out draws a few curious stares from other customers sitting near the counter and you force out an apology that’s underscored with a hiccup of laughter. Woo doesn’t seem at all offended by your reaction though. In fact, he seems even amused by it.
Not ten seconds later, the barista calls out his—rather, Soonyoung’s name and he hands you your drink while he carries a takeout package in his other hand. You try not to think too much about the way his fingers brush against yours when he gives it to you, thanking him despite the obvious redness settling across your cheeks.
“I actually meant to text you last week but I didn’t know if you were comfortable with it,” Woo admits as he opens the door to the coffee shop for you—thanking him as you step out of the air conditioned space and into the humid evening air. “I wanted to ask about the adoption requirements at the shelter.”
Part of you is a little skeptical about his explanation because… If he’s been dropping by your workplace as often as he claimed last week, then he could’ve just asked the other staff about the details. Why wait until he meets you again to bring it up? 
But of course, you’re way too polite to ask that to his face.
“I don’t mind you texting me about that or…anything, really,” you say, turning up the flap on the lid of your espresso before taking a small sip. Bearable. “It’s not like I’m too busy to respond to you. Well, I kinda am, but I can spare a few minutes.”
Woo nods with a soft laugh. “Okay. I’ll just get into detail via text later. I gotta bring these coffees back or they’ll chew me out for the rest of the night for being late. Oh, but do you need someone to walk home with you?”
The idea of having your not-work crush escorting you home flusters you more than it should and when you take another sip of your drink, it nearly goes down the wrong hole. Woo pats your back in comforting fashion when you sputter from your coffee, tears stinging your eyes as you attempt to breathe like a normal person. Fuck, you must look so fucking weird right now.
“I-I, um, sorry about that.” You cough into your fist, laughing uneasily as you grip your drink a little too tightly. “No, it’s fine. I only live a few blocks away.”
Now that you mention it, does that mean Woo is the same? If he’s out here in this specific neighborhood at this specific hour, that would only mean he lives in the area, or is at least staying for the meantime, right? But before you could get swept up by your own curiosity, you immediately sweep any and all ideas under the rug.
“Oh, that’s—that’s good to know.”
He sounds disappointed. Why does he sound disappointed?
“So I guess this is goodbye? ” you start. 
Woo nods briskly. “Yup. I’ll keep in touch.”
You chuckle. “That’s what you said last time.”
Whoa. Were you propositioning him or something? Sometimes, it baffles you how one minute, you’re choking on a cup of coffee—several shades embarrassed—and the next, you’re practically daring him to text you like he said he would.
“And I’ll make good on that as soon as time permits.” Woo shakes his head with a laugh. “It was nice seeing you again, though. Good luck with your exams.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up yet again at the thought of him having remembered that you mentioned your exams. “Thanks. I think I need all the luck I can get.”
When Woo turns to look at you through those thick-rimmed glasses, you almost wish you could see the smile that’s undoubtedly spreading behind that pesky mask of his. 
“I’ll be happy to give it to you every time then.”
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Today was probably the shittiest day of the week.
Not only did you spectacularly flunk the exam you took this morning whilst running on less than two hours of sleep, but your thesis adviser emailed you about several concerns regarding the latest version of your manuscript. Needless to say, you spent a good chunk of your day holed up in the university library, consulting new reference materials to back up your data since the ones you used were much too outdated for your adviser’s liking. 
It should’ve been something you’d consider a walk in the park, given the many revisions that have preceded this one, but it just so happens that you’ve got three more exams to worry about for the remainder of the week. Meaning, you had to squeeze in a few minutes of studying in between editing your newest draft and telling yourself that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you got held back for one semester before graduating. 
You’ve been so caught up with your piling academic responsibilities that you’ve barely looked at your phone. You only deigned to dig it out of the deepest pit of your backpack when you got a little hungry and wondered if they still let food delivery guys past the school gates. To your surprise, you’re greeted with a few text messages that you immediately feel horrible for not replying to the moment they were delivered. 
Unknown Number [10:45]: So about those adoption requirements…
Unknown Number [11:33]: Oh. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. It’s Woo.
Ignoring the fact that you’re obviously famished, you hastily type in a response after marking down Woo’s number with a black cat emoji right next to his name. It takes a moment because you’re so shaky, you end up suffering from a few typos here and there.
Me [13:10]: hey! sorry i was a bit busy and i just saw these…
Me [13:10]: what do you wanna know? i’m on a self-imposed lunch break rn
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:15]: No worries, I figured you got a long day ahead. Hope lunch is good at least.
Me [13:16]: actually, i haven’t ordered anything yet ‘cause time got away from me but Anyways
Me [13:16]: you wanted details abt the adoption process?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:18]: What? You haven't eaten yet?
Me [13:18]: yeah, but it’s no big deal. i could just have some food delivered.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:19]: Well, I’m out right now. I could just buy some food for you and drop it off. 
Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when you read each word of Woo’s text message. Is he being serious right now? The guy just paid for your coffee last night—a coffee that you forgot to pay back because of how surprising the circumstances were. Now he’s offering to buy you lunch?
Me [13:20]: you really don’t have to, i swear!! i’ve still got a few discount vouchers in baenim
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:22]: I insist. I’ve got my bike with me anyway.
Me [13:22]: bike? like, a bicycle?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:23]: Mmm. Close. Anyway, what food do you want? 
Now what the hell does that mean?
Part of you feels like you should be freaked out with how…kind he’s being to you. The world is full of weirdos who play the nice guy just to do something despicable to you in the end. Yet another part of you—a less reasonable one, admittedly—insists that Woo is nothing like that, despite the fact that you barely know the guy. 
Then again, you’re tired, stressed out, and barely slept a wink last night. If the hot guy you’ve been quote-unquote crushing on is offering to buy you food, where’s the harm in accepting?
Me [13:25]: fine. i could use some yangnyeom chicken and tteokbokki. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:26]: Nice. I know a good place. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [13:27]: I’ll head out in a few, so just text me the address.
Right after sending your university’s pin location to Woo, you start to consider the chance of him being some sort of serial stalker. Could he be biding his time, trying to let your guard down and easing personal information out of you so he could do something nefarious when he gets you alone? Fuck. Maybe it’s a good idea you didn’t let him walk you home yesterday…
But despite the very real possibility of Woo being someone with bad intentions regardless of how nice he is, you see no problem in meeting him at the school gates when he arrives with your food. In fact, you don’t even feel apprehensive of him in spite of all the ideas you conjured in your head over the past hour.  
Me [14:15]: where are you?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:16]: Parked by the curb in front of a bookstore. You can’t miss me.
 Me [14:16]: i don’t even know what you Look like today, genius
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [14:17]: I told you, I’ve got my bike with me. I don’t see anyone else looking the same way within a twenty meter radius. 
You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. For someone you deemed as ‘nice’, he can get pretty mouthy if he wants to. 
You head to the general direction of the bookstore that Woo was talking about as you try to ignore your growling stomach. Given that the lunch rush is more or less over, the usual crowd of pedestrians has considerably thinned out and it makes it easier for you to scan the vicinity for any bike-wielding impromptu delivery guys. 
However, the only person that does stand out to you is some dude wearing a black leather jacket, chilling next to an expensive looking motorcycle as he taps away on his phone with a matching pair of leather gloves and everything. His face is obscured by a black helmet and you would’ve let your gaze go past him had it not been for a sudden realization that hits you right there.
Bike? Like, a bicycle?
Mmm. Close.
“Woo!” 
Of course the leather jacket-clad, expensive motorcycle-wielding man looks up at the sound of his name being called from across the street. The visor of his helmet is drawn all the way up and you could see that he isn’t wearing his glasses for good reason. He seems to perk up at the sight of you before grabbing something from the trunk of his motorcycle and jogging to meet you where you stood.
You’ve seen him sporting a spectrum of comfortable outfits during his late night visits, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed Woo looking as dapper as he is now.
“Late lunch delivery?” 
You don’t even try to hide the way you roll your eyes as you accept the paper bag he hands to you. “Thanks. How much do I owe you now? You already got me coffee and now lunch.”
He shakes his head and you find it a little ridiculous, considering he’s still wearing that huge helmet of his. “It’s on me. It’s the least I could do to repay you for being so accommodating.”
“Woo, I haven’t done shit for you ‘cause you’re yet to properly talk to me about the adoption process. What on earth are you talking about?” 
“But you will do shit for me when we do talk about it. I’m just repaying the favor in advance,” he rebuts cheekily before pulling back the sleeve of his jacket to check for the time. “Though as much as I want to do that now, I need to catch a flight in a few hours.”
That makes your expression morph into disbelief. “You need to catch a what?”
“A flight. Gotta head to Japan for a few days,” Woo tells you nonchalantly, as if heading to Japan for a few days is something people do on a regular basis. “Can you make sure no one else takes Hani home before I can settle everything on my end?”
You tell yourself that you’ve got time to mull over what this guy does for a living some other time. Clearing your throat, you manage an awkward smile. “Um, yeah, sure thing. You’re really attached to her, aren’t you?” 
“You can say that again,” he laughs softly. “She kinda reminds me of myself from a long time ago… But anyway, I’ve gotta go. Tell me what you think about the chicken when you’re done with it?”
You nod. “I’ll be as brutally honest with my review as possible.”
“Just the way I like it,” Woo replies, eyes crinkling with amusement.
When you head back to the library, the person you were sharing a table with looked after your stuff for you while you were gone. You thank her profusely before settling back into your seat, grabbing the takeout packages from the paper bag that Woo personally delivered to you. 
Before you can start wolfing down the delectable-smelling chicken he brought, however, you notice a cute sticky note plastered on the lid—a doodle of a cat with glasses and a speech bubble that says you can do it~ scribbled on the corner.
Don’t overwork yourself. It’s been ages since my last exam, but I know how hard it can be. Make sure to eat properly so you can absorb all the info you need.
When your head bangs against one of the many wooden tables in the library, the person seated at the far end stares at you with a concerned look. You can’t muster the energy to assure her that everything’s alright, though because…
That quote-unquote crush of yours? 
It’s starting to become a little too real.
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You’re in the middle of throwing out old files from the back room archive when Mina peeks her head into the doorway and says, “You’ve got a visitor again.”
One glance at the old wall clock hung above the steel cabinets tells you that it’s midnight, but you know for one that this mystery visitor isn’t Woo this time around. 
You’ve been keeping in touch with him through Kakao, since you can’t exactly afford to send international text messages to Japan and your new friend(?) has been keeping you posted about his shenanigans for the past week. He hasn’t replied to your last message from over three hours ago and you’re not so delusional to think he got on a plane back to Korea and is suddenly here to surprise you.
When you see who it is, though, your heart warms just a little.
“Why haven’t you been texting me back?” Haewon, your sister who’s two years younger, gets up from the seats lined up across the walls of the lobby. “I missed you!” 
You shake your head before pulling her into a hug. “I missed you, she says. But you’re really just looking for someone to show you around the city again, aren’t you?”
“Hey, missing you and needing a chaperone aren’t mutually exclusive,” she huffs and you notice that she’s in full fangirl gear again—a lightstick hanging off a strap slung across her shoulder, a windbreaker with her favorite boyband’s logo sewn on the front pocket, and of course, a photocard of Mingyu dangling from her little handbag.
Despite the fact that she’s also in college, Haewon chose to stay in your hometown in Jeju to pursue her studies there instead. The first few months since you left were the hardest—so unused to not having your little sister go on and on and on about how much she loves SEVENTEEN. But you’ve also come to appreciate the peace and quiet that living alone in Seoul affords you. 
Besides, with how much money she’s raised for being one of the more well-known event organizers in her fandom, Haewon can pretty much come visit you in Seoul whenever she feels like it. 
“I’m guessing your thirteen boyfriends have a thing going on?” you ask before glancing over at the playroom to make sure there aren’t any kittens left inside. 
Haewon nods enthusiastically. “Yup, they’re having a mini fanmeet outside their company building in a few days—”
“In a few days?” you parrot before gesturing for her to follow you in the break room so you can get changed. “What’re you doing out here all dressed up then?”
Your little sister rolls her eyes. “Unnie, I’m not some weirdo who wears their merch on a regular night for no reason. I came from this little cupsleeve event for Wonwoo’s birthday. Things ran a little late because we had to help clean up at the café.” 
While you’re not well-versed in fandom jargon, you have learned a few terms from Haewon here and there. Plus, she already took you to a cupsleeve event for another member’s birthday once. You’re not really sure who it was because the only one you do consistently remember is Mingyu—your sister’s ultimate bias, apparently. 
“What made you stop by then?” you wonder as you exchanged your work uniform for a loose shirt. “You didn’t tell me you were coming in advance. I could’ve fetched you from the airport.”
“I did tell you in advance.” She pouts. “But you said you were busy working on your manuscript when I did, so it must’ve slipped your mind.”
Oh. Okay, now you feel bad. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you this weekend with dinner?” 
Haewon whines. “Unnie, their fanmeet is on Saturday and I leave on Sunday.”
“So? How long is that going to be anyway?”
“Uh, all day?”
You sigh. “Fine. How about you crash in my place tonight and we can rewatch Hometown Cha Cha Cha while stuffing our faces with ramen?”
“Deal.”
After timing out for the evening, you say goodbye to Mina, who’s just waiting up for your other coworkers who’ll cover the next shift. Haewon talks your ear off about what happened in the event she attended as you both walked back to your apartment and, while only some of the things she’s saying makes sense to you, it’s nice to be in your little sister’s company again. 
“Oh, by the way, here.”
You stare at her curiously as she rummages through her bag, handing you a photocard enclosed in a dainty-looking toploader. 
“What’s this for?” you ask. 
“You told me back then that Wonwoo was your type,” Haewon explains with a grin. “So I did my best in one of the parlor games and won that extremely in-demand photocard just for you.”
You scan the piece of idol merchandise in your hands for a few minutes more—staring at Wonwoo’s face as if waiting for him to speak. You never really understood the appeal of collecting photocards. As long as it makes Haewon happy, you won’t bat an eyelash.
But now she’s giving you one to keep for yourself and the more you stare at the idol printed on the sturdy paper, the more you think that you’ve seen him somewhere.
Then again, Haewon has been talking about these boys since they debuted years ago. The familiarity must’ve stemmed from those numerous fancams and music show performances that she forced you to sit down and watch with her. 
“You better take care of him, okay?” Haewon pouts. “If I see him suddenly being sold for a high price, I’m never going to let you live it down.”
“I barely know how the market for this works, so you don’t have to worry about that,” you chuckle before carefully sliding the toploader inside your own bag. “So what ramen are we eating? Shin Ramyun or something else?”
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Me [21:17]: btw, when are you coming back again? 
Me [21:20]: someone was asking about hani earlier and i feel like you’ve gotta come back here to assert your dominance.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: Shit, sorry. I forgot about the time.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: My friends and I had a birthday celebration at the izakaya near our hotel. It’s been a while since we got to unwind like this.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Anyway, who’s the funny guy who thought he could have my cat?
Me [02:38]: wow. YOUR cat? 🤨🤨🤨
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:40]: You’re still awake?
Me [02:40]: yeah, my little sister is in seoul and we’re binging our favorite drama
Me [02:41]: how about you? why are You still awake?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:45]: Taking care of drunk friends. Remember Soonyoung?
Me [02:45]: what about him?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Pleading for forgiveness in the toilet while he retches his guts out.
Me [02:47]: huh. some birthday party. who’s the celebrant anyway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:47]: Me.
“Whoa. You okay?” Haewon asks when you suddenly lurch forward on the couch, choking on the ramen you were in the middle of slurping. 
You thank your sister when she offers you a glass of water and you gulp it down to soothe the burning sensation in your throat. “It’s fine. I just received a surprising text is all.”
“From a boyfriend?” she teases.
You scowl. “No. From a friend. Just a friend.”
“Boo. But you’ll tell me once you land yourself your very own Hong Dusik, right?”
The look on your face only worsens at the reference she’s made to the drama that’s still playing on screen. “I’d actually rather die than have someone like Dusik as a boyfriend. If the whole enemies to lovers thing works with Hyejin, it really won't with me.”
“True, you’ve always been a mellow lover,” Haewon agrees and you roll your eyes. “That’s why Wonwoo would be perfect for you~”
“I think me landing a Hong Dusik-esque boyfriend is more likely than me getting together with a world famous idol but okay.”
You’re momentarily distracted from your conversation when your phone vibrates in your lap again, and— Fuck. 
You forgot to reply to Woo.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Fell asleep on me already?
Me [02:56]: no, no. sorry. my sister was just talking to me. 
Me [02:56]: anyway, it’s your BIRTHDAY?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:57]: Hahaha, yes. It’s been a while since I could sit down and actually celebrate it with my friends. 
Me [02:58]: is that why you went all the way to japan? for a little birthday getaway?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:58]: Hm… something like that 
Me [03:00]: i’ll give you hani’s adoption papers as a gift
Me [03:01]: that or you let ME treat YOU to something nice for a change
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: Well, I’ll be back in Korea this Saturday, but won’t be free until late at night.
Me [03:05]: back to regular programming, huh?
Me [03:06]: we can celebrate later if you’re busy, you know. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:07]: It’s okay. I wanted to spend time with you anyways.
“You sure that’s just a friend you’re talking to?” Haewon asks with an unimpressed stare as you choke on your instant noodles for the second time. “The only way I’d react like that to a text is if my friend told me one of our professors is fucking his TA despite being married. If that’s the case, you gotta let me in on the juicy details.”
You make a face at her. “Isn’t that way too specific?”
“Isn’t that way too specific?” Haewon mocks. “Whatever you’ve got going on with this friend of yours, promise I’ll be the first to know once you make it official?”
“Haewon!”
For the sake of your own sanity, you only reply to Woo’s message once you’re tucked in bed and Haewon is comfortably dozing on the couch in the living room. She’s a heavy sleeper that passes out quickly after a long day, so you don’t feel particularly worried about your little sister barging into your room when you type out a response.
Me [03:43]: gotcha. just meet me at the shelter after your thing. 
Me [03:45]: happy birthday, woo.
You don’t wait for him to type out a reply anymore—eyes drooping into slumber as you let the screen of your phone fade into sleep mode. 
Unbeknownst to you, a man who just finished putting his intoxicated friends to bed an ocean away stares at your chat history with a fond smile, heart racing just a few beats faster at the prospect of what awaits him at home.
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You’re just about done cleaning up the big dog kennels when Woo drops by on a bright Saturday morning. 
The sound of his deep ‘hello’ nearly made you drop all the cleaning utensils you were about to put away. When you turn around to confirm that the shelter’s nighttime regular has indeed switched things up and decided to visit during daylight hours, you’re too busy scowling at him to mind the fact that you’re all gross and sweaty from all the hard labor. 
Sure, you texted him about taking up a day shift today, but you definitely didn’t expect him to visit when he just got back to Korea a few hours ago. 
Surprisingly, Woo isn’t donned in all black this time around. He’s wearing a gray pullover with some muddled text you can’t quite read with the hood pulled all the way up, concealing the white cap resting on top of his head. Of course, his signature face mask is still in between you and his no doubt handsome countenance, but you’ll take what you can get.
“What’re you doing here?” you ask, a bit breathless before you notice that takeout bag he’s setting down on one of the empty tables. “I thought you’re not gonna be free until tonight.”
“Thought you could use another lunch fix,” he says nonchalantly. “Well that and I wanted to personally give you some cool trinkets from Japan.”
The sentiment makes your heart stir a little, but you end up voicing out a dry laugh before stuffing the shelter’s cleaning paraphernalia inside the broom closet. “Keep doing all these nice things and I’ll start thinking you’re in love with me.”
Woo laughs but does absolutely nothing to deny the allegations.
“Here.” Your brows arch a little when he fishes something from the pocket of his hoodie, handing it to you. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like so I just got all of them.”
You’re a bit reluctant to receive his gift in your current state—dirty hands, dirty clothes, dirty everything—but Woo doesn’t seem to mind when he drops a small plastic package full of…
“Kitties!” You coo out loud at the assortment of colorful enamel pins inside before gawking at him. “Seriously, Woo, you’re way too nice to me. I’m starting to feel indebted.”
He shakes his head with an adorable laugh. “It’s nothing. I swear. They just reminded me of you when my friends and I passed this one booth at a festival.”
Shit. They reminded him of you?
“So are you finally going to sit down and talk to me about adopting Hani or are you gonna keep skirting around again, mister?” You place a hand on your hip, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction as you tuck his gift safely in the back pocket of your jeans.
“Surprise, I actually came here to do just that. I still have an hour free before I have to go to work,” Woo admits and him mentioning work taps in on your innate curiosity about what he does for a living. “But your coworker said something about rounding up the dogs and putting them back in the kennel?”
Oh. Shit. 
As if on cue, Mina—along with a few on shift volunteers—emerge down the hall, all of their hands gripping several leashes as an army of dogs fills the hallway with excited and agitated barking alike. 
“Are we good to go?” Mina yells over the noise.
Trying not to look too disappointed that your time with Woo has been cut short, you give Mina a thumbs up before striding off to meet them halfway. You take it upon yourself to take a few of the dogs off one of the volunteers’ hands and he looks at you with withering relief when you do. 
“Yep. Everything’s as fresh as a daisy now,” you inform them. “Hope these guys didn’t make too big of a mess up in the front though. That would mean Kino’s turn for cleaning duty came a little early.”
“Hey!” The volunteer in question complains. “I’ve got a date later, noona. Don’t go saying weird stuff like that.”
You’re just about to tease him a little more but you suddenly feel the force of a couple of former strays tugging you forward disappear. That’s when you notice that Woo made his way to your side, guiding the dogs silently as he helps lead the first of them to the kennel.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insist but your friend(?) merely shakes his head. 
“It’s no big deal,” Woo reassures.
It doesn’t help that this particular hallway is a little cramped. You’re practically standing arm to arm as you all make it to the end. You can practically smell the expensive cologne wafting from his clothes amidst the scent of dog fur that’s starting to permeate the air. When Woo lets out another soft laugh when one of the dogs he has on a leash licks his hand, you know it’s over for you.
It takes about half an hour to settle all fifteen big dogs into their respective cages and by the time it’s over, you’re convinced that you need a shower now more than ever. As Mina and the rest of the volunteers head back to the reception room, you decide to take a break and help yourself to the takeout that Woo personally delivered yet again.
“Thanks for your help. Cleaning day is really one of the toughest days of the month. Especially when we have to clean up the big dog kennels,” you sigh before plopping into an empty seat in the break room. 
“Don’t mention it,” he says and you find yourself imagining a smile behind his mask yet again. “I actually have a dog at home, too, so I would now. But she’s definitely more tame than these guys.”
That makes you pause. “Is that why you’re beating around the bush so much about adopting Hani? You think she won’t get along with your dog?”
He hums a little before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s one of the reasons, yes.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you try,” you huff as you unseal the takeout package—the delectable scent of yangnyeom chicken pervading your senses. “Anyway, you’re going to sign the papers this time, right? Right?”
You have a feeling that you’ve finally got him cornered, but before Woo can even formulate a response, a ringtone that definitely isn’t yours starts going off inside the break room. 
Your friend(????) answers it with a wistful sigh. 
It’s so quiet that you can vaguely make out the voice at the other end of the line saying, “Hyung. Everyone’s looking for you. Where are you?”
You try not to stare at Woo as he takes the call out of pure decency—distracting yourself with your food. But you can’t help but listen in when their conversation is the only thing you can hear at the moment. 
“Yeah, I’ll be there soon. Tell everyone I’m sorry for the hold up, Mingyu.” 
The moment that name leaves Woo’s mouth, you freeze mid-chew. Did he say Mingyu? Like…the idol that Haewon is downright obsessed with? No… It was probably just someone with the same name. It is pretty common, after all.
When he ends the call, you flash him a tight-lipped smile that manages to conceal your momentary surprise. “Rain check?”
“Rain check,” Woo sighs in agreement. 
You nod. “It’s okay. The more you keep delaying Hani’s adoption, the more presents I get from you.”
“And you’re absolutely right about that,” he humors you before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You haven’t even recovered from that little gesture he just did when he asks, “Hope our plans for later are still up though?”
Woo must’ve caught the look on your face with the way he retracts the hand that was just on top of your head to snicker into his palm. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We were supposed to celebrate my birthday, remember?”
Curse you and your habit of making plans at ass o’clock in the morning. You always forget them!
“Uh, it kinda slipped my mind?” you admit sheepishly as you pick at your food. “I ended up going for a day shift ‘cause I have to see my sister off at the airport tomorrow.” 
He nods in earnest and it kind of makes you feel bad about your short term memory. “It’s alright. I’ll just drop by some other time to get the paperwork over with. I’ve disturbed you enough as it is.”
“No, it’s fine!”
Your sudden outburst makes Woo look up at you with a confused stare. “Hm?”
“I-I can still meet up with you later,” you stammer and you have to force yourself not to bury your face in your hands out of sheer embarrassment. Pull yourself together, damn. “If you’re not too tired from your plans for the day, of course.”
He mentioned something about having to go to work, and while you can’t imagine what sort of work has to be urgently done on a Saturday, you’ll still respect his time. 
Woo blinks for a few seconds, as if still digesting what you just said before his eyes disappear behind his glasses with a soft chuckle. Your brows cinch together, not getting what’s so funny. 
“Noted. I’ll come pick you up here later, still? If you’re not comfortable with sharing your address with me yet.” 
He’s so thoughtful, you might actually give him all your personal details at this point. But at the end of the day you’re actually a person with a head full of common sense, so you answer him with, “Sure thing. Thanks for going out of your way to come hang out despite how busy you are.”
“No, thank you for always putting up with me,” Woo insists with a shake of his head. “I swear I’m not hassling you with this whole adoption thing on purpose. There’s just…a lot of things to consider on my end. I hope you understand.”
You wave away his concerns with a laugh. “Just keep getting me more of this chicken and we’ll call it quits.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
When Woo sees himself out of the break room, you fumble for the plastic package in the back of your jeans—taking one of the adorable black cat enamels before pinning it in the front pocket of your uniform. You can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see your reflection on the small mirror sitting on the table. 
How could you be this down bad for someone whose entire face you’ve never even seen before? 
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Haewon 🪷 [17:20]: Are you suuure you don’t wanna come to the fan meet?
Haewon 🪷 [17:21]: I’ve still got a few extra passes :3c you’d get to see wonwoo in the flesh!
Me  [17:30]: why do you want to set me up with wonwoo so badly 
Haewon 🪷 [17:31]: Bc we’re sisters? And it’d be cool if we stanned MinWon together?
Me  [17:32]: …not even gonna ask you to elaborate on that
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Haewon 🪷 [18:00]: Unnie ㅠㅠ
Me [18:00]: why? what’s wrong, hae?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:05]: Mingyu looks sooooo much better than I remember
Haewon 🪷[18:06]: The girlfriend allegations must be true
Haewon 🪷 [18:06]: Only a man in love can smile like that!
Me [18:07]: or: a man who relies on fanservice to get paid?
Haewon 🪷[ 18:08]: RUDE!!!!
Haewon 🪷 [18:08]: Here’s a pic of Wonwoo to shut you up
Haewon 🪷 [18:09]: [Sent an attachment]
Me [18:10]: idk if i should find the fact that you think some kpop guy affects me in any capacity amusing or concerning
Haewon 🪷 [18:11]: !!!! Take that back wtf?? Wonwoo isn’t just ‘some kpop guy’?????
Me [18:10]: sure he isn’t.
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Haewon 🪷 [19:45]: Good news!!
Me [19:45]: you’re finally going to get off my back about the whole wonwoo thing?
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: No ^_^ My Monday final got canceled so I can stay in Seoul for a day more!
Haewon 🪷 [19:46]: Aka you don’t have to wake up early to drag your ass to the airport w me
Me [19:47]: oh. that’s cool. what’re your plans for tomorrow then?
Haewon 🪷 [19:48]: Gonna attend the pre-recording for a music show :3
Me [19:50]: …Haewon i swear to god if you ask me to do what you’re about to ask me to do
Haewon 🪷 [19:50]: Come with me pretty pleaaaase?
Haewon 🪷 [19:51]: I’m using my adorable dongsaeng powers to get you to agree
Me [19:55]: there’s no talking my way out of this, is there?
Haewon 🪷 [19:55]: Nope <3
Me [19:56]: fine. just text me the details. i need to go out soon. 
Haewon 🪷 [19:56]: HEHE have fun !!
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You weren’t lying when you texted Haewon that you had to go out soon. You agreed that you’d meet up with Woo for his post-birthday celebration at 9 P.M. Hell, you even called a local bakery to have a personalized cake made for pick-up before you head over to the rendezvous point. Everything was already set right from the start.
But then you ended up falling asleep while scrolling through Twitter and now the clock reads 10:45 P.M., and you’re rushing to pull on a ratty sweater instead of the cute outfit you planned for the night as you rush out of your apartment.
Me [10:47]: FUCK IM SORRY
Me [10:47]: i was SUPPOSED to take a five minute nap but i didn’t realize how tired i was
Me [10:48]: are you still up to hang out? i totally get it if not though.
You immediately stuff your phone in the pocket of your jeans—not even bothering to glance at Woo’s reply when it vibrates with a text notification. Your conscience is much too guild-ridden to read any sort of reassurance he’d undoubtedly give to you despite how long you’ve made him wait. 
Two hours, jeez. You’d be furious if someone was that late on you.
When you arrive at the shelter after doing a couple of quick detours, you’re panting like you just won first place in a marathon. Needless to say, it’s a pitiful sight to behold when Woo is leaning across his motorcycle—looking much too attractive in that stupid leather jacket of his. 
“Is this what the kids call fashionably late these days?” he chuckles.
If you weren’t so apologetic, you would’ve rolled your eyes so instead, you give him a crumpled paper bag with a smile that borders on overcompensating.
“Happy birthday?”
Woo looks like he was just about to say something until a quiet mewl interrupts him midway. You gaze at him with a puzzled look until he stifles a soft laugh, pulling the lapel of his jacket open to reveal—
“Hani?” You scowl.
The black kitten is tucked away snugly in the inner pocket of Woo’s jacket—nearly blending in with the leather. It’s almost as if two pairs of big yellow eyes are staring at you from a void. 
“Finally got the papers over with when you fell asleep on me,” Woo chuckles before scratching behind her ears. “So I guess it wasn’t so bad that you made me wait for two hours.” 
“Hey, I said I was sorry!”
“Yes, and I heard you,” he insists before peering inside the paper bag you gave him. “What’s this?”
“No peeking until we get to your good old thinking spot,” you scold, smacking his hand away. 
A hand that you just noticed is also clad in a leather glove. 
He shakes his head playfully before putting his arms up in surrender. “For someone who’s two hours late, you’re pretty demanding.”
“Woo!”
During his last few days in Japan, Woo told you about his favorite thinking spot that’s specifically located beneath Hannam Bridge. There’s an old watchtower that was built before the bridge even existed. I go there when I want to clear my head. 
When he said he wanted to bring you there for his belated birthday bash, the ghastly possibility of him turning out to be a serial killer luring you to your doom crossed your mind for half a second before you ended up agreeing anyway.
Now here you are, drowning in the musk of his cologne as you press your cheek against the fabric of his jacket. He’s definitely going past the speed limit with how sharply the wind sings in your ears, but instead of complaining about it, you tighten your arms around his torso—letting the warmth of his body seep into yours. 
“It’s not so scary if you don’t think about it too much,” you hear him shout from the front. “Look to your right! This is why I’ve always liked doing late night rides!”
Easy for him to say. He’s brave enough to harbor a kitten inside his jacket and a person who’s never ridden a motorcycle before at a hundred kilometers per hour! But despite how terrified you are of falling off his bike, you do as he says anyways.
When you tilt your gaze in the direction of the Han River, you’re immediately greeted by the dazzling lights that glimmer across the water. You haven’t been to the districts on the other side of the river, but you think you’re content with getting to see them from afar.
With the roar of an engine ringing in your ears. With the summer evening breeze whipping past your face.
With your arms around someone who’s slowly but surely leaving his mark in your life. 
“Are you sure this is legal?”
Your companion glances behind him as he makes his way to the aforementioned watch tower—a knapsack full of god-knows-what slung around his shoulder while he carries the paper bag with your “gift” in his free hand. “I’ve never seen a single ‘No Trespassing' sign since I’ve started going here ages ago, so probably.”
“Probably?” you parrot and Hani, who you’ve deigned to carry in your arms after that grueling motorcycle ride, meows as if she’s just as incredulous as you are. “So it’s still possible for us to get arrested?”
“Yeah, but what’s life without a little risk?” 
Unbelievable.
Yet, despite the common sense you were oh-so proud of this morning, you still follow him up the winding steps of the watchtower, which is hardly even a watchtower given that it’s a few meters beneath the widest bridge in the city. Woo wasn’t lying about his strange description of it after all.
“Well, here we are,” he announces when the two of you reach the platform on the very top. The edges are lined with metal rails that are beginning to rust with age, but seem sturdy enough to grant you some sense of security—no matter how sparse. “I’ll just set this up. You can go enjoy the view if you want.”
Woo doesn’t even let you get a word in before he unzips his bag and brings out a checkered picnic blanket. He gently lays it across the dusty concrete, smoothing out the fabric before fishing some more stuff inside his gym-bag-turned-picnic-basket. You keep yourself from making any snide comments about his choice of venue because despite the unorthodox location, you actually get why he’d find it peaceful here.
It’s far enough from the freeway that the sound of vehicles rushing through the night can barely reach your ears. If you listen closely enough, you can even hear the water flowing below much more clearly. You close your eyes to get a better feel of the place—imagining a six-foot something guy leaning across the rusty railings as he watches the city lights sparkle across the Han River.
“There we go.” 
You startle when you feel Woo’s warm, leather-clad hand on your shoulder—prompting you to turn around and see his handiwork. In the middle of the picnic blanket is something that looks suspiciously like a portable emergency light. How he got his hands on something like that, you’re not entirely sure, so you decide to focus on the other details instead. 
Like the two unopened bottles of soju right next to a take-out package of your favorite yangnyeom chicken. 
“Didn’t we agree that I was treating you to something this time around?” you grumble as you absentmindedly stroke Hani’s fur. 
“We did, but then you overslept and—”
“Okay, fine! Point taken!”
Woo snickers as he hands you the paper bag you brought for the trip. It looks even worse than it was when you ran all the way to the shelter and you can only hope the package inside isn’t completely ruined. 
You decide to let Hani down inside the gym bag that Woo left unzipped. Surprisingly, the newly adopted kitten makes a home out of it quickly—curling up into a ball as her tail swishes every now and again. Cute.
“Don’t judge, okay?” You breathe out nervously as you take the plastic container out of the bag. “I had a legit cake custom-made and everything but…yeah. Overslept.”
When Woo doesn’t respond a second too long, your gaze nervously rivets to his face to parse for a reaction. Was he disappointed? Should you have gotten a different design?
The moment you see the dazzled look in his eyes, however, you realize that isn’t the case.
He receives the little cupcake with open arms when you give it to him. It’s chocolate topped with bad fondant icing art, but you didn’t really have a choice. When you spotted it in the convenience store earlier, you grabbed the one that looked most like a kitten and dipped. It’s nice to know that he might actually like it after all.
“Oh and uh, sorry, but I couldn’t bring any candles for you to blow,” you add sheepishly. “You can just make a wish and pretend.” 
Woo’s gaze drifts to you for a moment before his eyes crinkle with laughter. “I don’t really have to do that though. My wish has already come true.”
Huh?
To your chagrin, he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, Woo invites you to sit on the picnic blanket—carefully removing his boots so he wouldn’t track dirt all over the food and you follow suit. 
You fill the silence with your goings-on for the rest of the day and how exactly you ended up dozing off and he’s kind enough to listen to every word. However, when you ask if he wants to do a toast, he shakes his head.
“I need to drive you back, remember?” 
You shoot him a dirty look. “So you took me all the way out here just so I can have two bottles of soju all to myself while you sit there and listen to me talk about my day?”
“...Yes?”
Men are so fucking infuriating sometimes, you can hardly believe it.
“Nope.” You firmly shake your head—plucking the bottle opener he set down on the blanket to pop the caps off. “You’re drinking with me. Just quit driving past the speed limit so we won’t die in a freak accident.” 
You immediately notice the stiffness in his shoulders as you shove the bottle of soju in his hands and part of you feels kind of bad for being pushy. For a moment, you allow yourself to scrutinize him for a bit longer. What could possibly be deterring him from drinking after going out of his way to do all this? 
That’s when you realize he still has his mask on.
Does he…have issues about people seeing his face?
That would definitely explain why he hasn’t once taken it off in all the times you’ve met him so far. With that in mind, you promptly decide to tell him that okay, he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to, but then Woo is already reaching up to peel the blasted face mask off. 
Your chest seizes with panic, hands flying in front of you to keep him from doing something against his will. But the effort is futile because it only takes a second for him to remove and… 
Fuck.
Cue the choir of angels because goddamn does this man look like heaven.
Woo shifts somewhat uncomfortably under your stare, as if he’s waiting for you to blow up all over his face or something. But you’re much too mesmerized by too many things to form any sort of response right away. 
The sharp cut of his jaw. The gentle curve of his Cupid’s bow. The tinge of red spreading across his cheeks.
“I can’t believe you’ve been gatekeeping yourself from me all this time,” you whisper with a strained laugh—purposely peeling your gaze away for the sake of your own sanity. “I knew you were hot, but…God. I hate you.”
“You…don’t recognize me?” 
The question brings you out of your feelings for a moment, making you glance at him with a questioning stare. “Am I supposed to?”
Woo gapes at the question like he didn’t expect that to be your response before shaking his head vigorously. 
“N-No. Anyway, you said I was hot but you hate me?”
You narrow your eyes at him before taking your first swig of soju. “Don’t start getting all cocky with me, mister! I’ve got eyes and I can’t help that you’re objectively attractive. Just stating facts here.”
When Woo smiles for the first time without the figurative cockblock that is his signature black face mask and honestly? If you died right now, you’d die happily. 
The night presses on in a haze of soju, spicy chicken, and the occasional visit from Hani who uses either of your laps as her personal bed for about five minutes before switching to the other person. 
This is the longest you’ve been with Woo and you’re starting to realize that he isn’t much of a talker, which you completely understand. You can’t imagine someone who’s hell-bent on keeping what he looks like a secret for so long being a chatterbox.
“Oh, but you mentioned something to me at the shelter one time,” you pipe up before scooping a forkful of chicken into your mouth. 
“Yeah? What is it?” Woo asks softly as he pets Hani’s back. 
Feeling just a little bit tipsy from the alcohol, you try not to stare too hard at his handsome face or the way his lip curls at the edges with a tiny smile when Hani purrs from his touch.
“You said Hani reminded you of yourself from before,” you whisper as your gaze drifts to his leather-gloved hands. “Is it okay to ask what you meant by that?”
The sound of the river flowing beneath the watchtower fills your ears as you bask in the silence. It’s a pretty personal question. You’d totally get it if he decides not to answer, but you’re much too curious to keep yourself from asking. 
“Well, I wasn’t a stray or anything, but there was a time in my life that I felt so…aimless. I lost someone near and dear to me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it for a very long time.”
Hearing the earnest ring of Woo’s voice, you force yourself to snap out of your subtle inebriation—scooting a little bit closer to him on the blanket to make sure you catch every word. 
“I didn’t get into a life-threatening accident like this one did either, but…” He trails off for a moment, stroking the scar that you know runs along Hani’s sternum but has long healed with his fingers. 
“I managed to get back on track when the people around me showed me their support. They didn’t leave even if all I wanted was to be left alone. If it weren’t for them, it might’ve taken me even longer to move past what happened. Worse, I might not have moved past it at all.
“When I saw Hani that day, she looked scared of all the other cats. Like she wasn’t ready to let anyone get close to her just yet.” Woo breathes deeply before taking a small sip from his bottle. “I guess I was the same way, too. Healing isn’t linear. Sometimes, when I think I’m all better, one day, I just spiral back to where I started in the next one. That’s…kind of where you fit into the picture, actually.”
The brief pause in his story makes you blink at him, surprised. “Me?”
He nods. “You used to feed the strays in your neighborhood, right? You even had a schedule and everything.”
“That was months ago,” you mutter. “You mean you already knew me back then? Because of that?”
“I…actually live in that area, too.” He clears his throat, that familiar blush settling across his cheeks once again. “I often saw you feeding the strays because that’s usually the time I got back from the cemetery. One day, things got a bit too much and I kind of…broke down in the park instead of just doing that at home.”
He says it like he’s embarrassed and now that he mentioned it, you vaguely remember consoling a stranger during your days before volunteering at the shelter. You don’t recall much of it though—just the memory of awkwardly patting his back before sending him off feeling just a bit better because you saw him smile a little.
Other than that, you’re drawing blanks.
“How exactly did I help you, though? If you don’t mind me asking.” 
“I wouldn’t say you helped me or anything, but…” Woo pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose while slyly avoiding your eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying something like—”
Hey, it’s just a bad day. Or a bad week. Or a bad month. I don’t know. But it’s not a bad life. It’ll get better soon. I promise.
Fuck. Maybe you do remember.
“It didn’t really mean much to me at the time. Honestly, it kind of pissed me off at first,” Woo admits with a guilty chuckle before taking another sip. “But you were right. Sometimes, things got worse. Other times, it got better. But one day, I realized that I got to a point where it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
“I’m not usually this open about my problems, but I learned overtime that talking about them makes them less taxing to deal with. Almost like I’m just talking about the weather, you know?” He smiles softly and you swear your heart melts at the sight of it. “And…I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.” 
“Now you’re here spilling your guts out to some random college senior,” you snicker before taking another swig of your soju. You pout when you realize the bottle’s all empty before placing it back on the picnic blanket. “That’s some character development.”
“It really is.”
The silence sets once more and your eyes wander off to the city so close yet so far away. The lights from the skyscrapers glimmer like stars across the calm waters of the Han River and you like to think it compensates for the fact that the sky is blocked out by the bridge stretched far and wide above you. 
This isn’t how you imagined your first stargazing date would be like, but it’s a good start.
Although, the moment the idea crosses your mind, you’re quick to jolt at your own thoughts. 
This isn’t a date. You’re just celebrating his birthday together. Alone. On a picnic blanket. With one of the loveliest sceneries you’ve laid your eyes on. In a place where he claims that he never once showed to anyone else. 
“Hey, is this—”
Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn to look at Woo—only to find his face mere inches from yours. 
“What?” he whispers and despite the fact that you’re wearing a sweater, you feel goosebumps rise across the skin of your shoulders. 
“Uh.” Fuck. “Is this a date?”
His mouth curves into a smile that you can’t quite get a read on. “It can be what you want it to be.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, suddenly feeling hot all over as his eyes flicker to your lips. “Just so you know, I don’t kiss on the first date.”
When Woo laughs again, it’s a deep-seated noise that makes your insides tingle with an indescribable feeling. You don’t really want to give it a name.
“Okay,” he repeats before pressing his forehead against yours. “We can have our first date next time then.”
Of course the sly fucker dives in for a kiss anyway.
“H-Hey,” you whisper in between, trying not to get too distracted with how plump his lips are as you keep holding him still by his broad shoulders. “You’re going to end up crushing Hani if you d-don’t cut it out!”
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away regretfully. For a moment, he stares at the sleepy kitten on his lap, gazing around cluelessly after being roused from slumber. His expression softens for a moment as he scoops her up with both hands, settling her down in the comfort of his gym bag. She lets out a satisfied mewl before curling into a ball once more.
“Better?” 
You’re not sure if he’s asking you or the cat, but…
“Better,” you whisper before fisting the lapels of his jacket and crushing your lips with his.
You don’t know where you’re pulling all this pent-up frustration from. During the very brief period that you’ve gotten closer to Woo, your general opinion about him never really deviated from he’s cute and he’s hot. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet here you are, gasping into his mouth as he flattens his tongue against yours. A strong arm hooks around your waist, pressing your bodies infinitesimally closer and your skin is slowly hitting a fever pitch beneath your clothes. Something wild and all-consuming burns in your veins and you channel it into a moan that makes his grip on you grow tighter. 
You don’t know how exactly you wound up on top of his lap—knees planted on either side of his hips as he continues devouring you with no intention of leaving anything behind. You can feel the expensive material of his leather gloves when his fingers graze along the hem of your sweater. Your skin tingles like every nerve ending has been set alight and if you weren’t already rendered dizzy by his intoxicating cologne, you’re in for a ride with each second his touch hikes further up your torso.
Woo sighs against your lips before pulling away momentarily—eyes aflame before he removes his fogged up glasses with one hand, tossing them somewhat carelessly on the picnic blanket. 
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Why was that so hot?
You’re too stunned to even draw a breath as he stares you down without the constant partition of his glasses. Has his gaze always been this sharp? Have those eyes always been transfixed on you?
“This…This wasn’t part of the plan, if you’re wondering.” Woo croons out the words huskily. Like an afterthought he only considered out of concern for you. Cute. “I swear I didn’t have any ulterior motives when—”
You giggle, before pressing a kiss on his nose. Woo’s eyes widen just a fraction.
“What made you cave then?” 
The way his Adam’s apple bobs has no right to be that alluring, but it pulls you in anyway. “You looked really cute tonight.”
“Is that all?”
“Um, I thought it was sweet that you still got me a cupcake after you overslept?”
You groan, forehead bumping into the crook of his neck. Jesus Christ, he smells so fucking good. “How long are you going to hold that over my head for?”
You feel the vibrations of his laughter humming against your connected chests and your heart swells as Woo wraps his arms around your frame—pulling you into a firm embrace as the heat that engulfed the both of you slowly simmered into the cool evening air. You can feel him tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades and the small of your back, and it does nothing to keep you from melting into his touch.
It’s so strange how easily you gave into him. You’ve formally known Woo for about three months and became legitimate friends(?) for less than three weeks. If you told Haewon about this whirlwind romance of yours, she’d hit you upside the head and tell you you’re being way too hasty for a man. 
But if it’s a man with a black kitten taking a nap in his gym bag while he kisses you senseless underneath one of Seoul’s busiest freeways, you suppose you can make an exception.
“We should go,” Woo murmurs softly. “You’ve still got to accompany your sister to the airport right?”
“Mmm. Nope. She’s staying a day longer,” you inform him with the same quiet tone, letting your fingers trail up to his hair so you can toy with the strands in your fingertips. “But I do have some more edits to get over with in my final manuscript, so…yeah. We should go.”
Despite wanting nothing but to stay there in Woo’s little safe haven, the two of you manage to miraculously peel yourselves away from each other. Your face is hot the entire time you helped clean up his little picnic setup. When he shuts off the portable emergency light, you squint as you parse your way through the darkness. 
You kind of end up tripping on air like a complete idiot, but before you can tumble off the rails and into the river, Woo catches you by the waist—not so different from how he held you ten minutes prior.
“Careful,” he mutters as he lets you go and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch again. “I don’t want to be accused of being a murderer.”
You snicker as he gently scoops Hani out of the gym bag and back into the spacious compartment in the lapel of his leather jacket. For a sleepy kitten, she’s surprisingly compliant. “I actually thought all this time you were some sort of serial killer trying to lure me to my doom.”
“You thought that but you came with me anyway?”
“Why not? You’re hot.”
That night, you let Woo drive you back home now that he’s more or less beaten the serial killer allegations. You tell him that he doesn’t have to walk you to your apartment, but he insists—saying that he can afford to leave Hani on his bike for a few minutes. 
Of course, it ends up with another heated makeout session against your front door. This time, those stupid leather-clad fingers hike high enough on your back to toy with the clasp of your bra while his other hand remains tangled in your hair to pull you impossibly closer.
“I have to go,” he rasps before swiping his tongue along his bottom lip—giving you a sudden itch to sink your teeth into it. “But you’re making it really hard to leave.” 
He’s making it really hard to tell him to go home, too, but as much as you want to kiss the night away, you still have some of your wits about you.
You chuckle as you reluctantly extract his wandering hands away from your body. Woo sighs in surrender with a nearly inaudible laugh.
“You already bent my I don’t kiss on the first date rule, genius,” you remind him breathlessly. “Don’t push your luck just yet until we’ve had that so-called first date next time.” 
He grins. “So there’s going to be a next time?”
Deciding to keep him on his toes, you bat your eyelashes coquettishly at him. “Only if you want to.”
Woo leans in to press his lips against the corner of your mouth—trying his best to suppress the grin on his face. 
“I’ll hold you to it then.”
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Despite having lived in Seoul for four years and having a hardcore fangirl for a sister, today’s the first time you’ll be attending the pre-recording session for a music show. 
Needless to say, you feel like an outsider amongst the fans armed with all sorts of idol merchandise and dressed in the prettiest outfits. Haewon managed to mooch a lightstick off one of her friends for you to use, but despite the fact that you know not a single soul would give two shits about you here, the alienating sensation remains. 
“Hey, don’t be too nervous,” your little sister chortles as the marshals usher the crowd into the studio. “All you gotta do is wave that lightstick to the beat. You’ll blend right in, I promise.”
You crack her a nervous smile. Oh, the things you do to make Haewon happy.
It’s a little bit of a blur from there. You squeeze past the throng of fans while simultaneously trying not to lose your sister in the crowd. Some of the staff are handing out photocards that you hear are exclusively given away at this specific broadcast and were worth hundreds of thousands of won. You’re not sure which member Haewon got for you, but knowing your little sister, she must’ve snagged one of Wonwoo’s.
When the two of you are settled in your seats, you take the time to admire the set. You never imagined idol music show stages being this massive in person. In fact, you never really spared an active thought about them. Most of the info you do know about these kinds of things are secondhand accounts from Haewon from all the times she’s been to several broadcasting studios across the city. 
“Did you bring the PC I got you last time?” she asks before taking out the broadcast ones out of their plastic package. 
You shake your head. “Sorry. That Wonwoo’s sitting in a different bag.”
“Well, at least you haven’t sold him,” your little sister laughs before handing you one of the cards in her hands. “I told the staff to give us Mingyu and Wonwoo, but they gave me Hoshi and Wonwoo. It’s okay though, ‘cause Hoshi’s my bias wrecker anyway.”
Ah. More fandom jargon that you’re just now hearing about.
Just as the staff is starting to do the final preparations on stage, you decide to check out the broadcast PC that Haewon just gave to you. When your eyes land on Wonwoo’s face, however, you suddenly feel your blood freeze in your veins. 
You…don’t recognize me?
One of the staff members announces that the boys will be out shortly to begin the pre-recording session but the words are all but muted in your ears. 
Because how the hell can you focus on anything else when the face of the man who drove you back home last night—the man who kissed you until you were lightheaded—is plastered on a photocard that could be exchanged for an entire fortune?
This can’t be right, you muse with a scowl—fishing your phone out of your bag as your trembling fingers make haste to open your messaging app. He can’t be the same guy. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning, I hope you got enough rest!
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:36]: I have a schedule later this morning so I might be MIA 
Me [09:40]: it’s cool. i just woke up actually hahaha
Me [09:40]: i also don’t mind! i’m heading out with my sister in a while too
Me [09:41]: have fun at work(?)
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:45]: Haha I will :) Have fun with your sister!
With a deep breath, you lock your phone just as the lights start to dim and the crowd cheers their hearts out. Haewon urges you to turn on your lightstick and the part of the studio that’s filled to the brim with an audience is lit up with hundreds of dazzling lights.  
You would’ve appreciated the sight if only a certain someone didn’t play you for a fucking fool.
Just as promised, the boys that your little sister has been crazy about since their debut all fill the stage gradually. Some of them greet the fans with wide grins and silly little gestures. The others are a little more reserved with their greetings—all shy smiles and reserved movements.
Like Wonwoo, for example.
After several years of only knowing Mingyu thanks to Haewon, this is the first time you were able to pick out another one of them on stage with ease. Why wouldn’t you be able to recognize him? 
He had you pressed up against your front door only a few hours ago.
It all made sense now. The affinity for keeping a face mask on. The late night visits. The fact that he seems to make an exorbitant amount of money from a job he doesn’t want to disclose.
Woo is Wonwoo from SEVENTEEN. 
And he somehow forgot to let you know over the course of your time together. 
You try to keep down the frustration that burns in your throat, making you feel like the roof of your mouth is stuffed with cotton. It’s much easier to mask your feelings once the performers all get into position and the music starts. The loud beat blaring from the speakers coupled with the well-practiced fanchants from the audience easily overpower the sound of your hitched breathing. Even Haewon was too engrossed with the performance to notice your distress.
Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. Especially when Wonwoo’s the one who starts up the first verse of their newest song. 
He looks so…different from the gentle giant you’ve come to know over the past few weeks. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes that you know is all for show, but it makes your spine tingle at the sight of it nonetheless. The words to the song are raspily sung into the mic and if you weren’t convinced that he and Woo aren’t the same person, you most certainly are now.
After all, it’s his fucking voice that got you so down bad in the first place.
Once his part is done, Wonwoo quickly heads over to the next formation—a complete professional by heart. He belts out each dance move with such perfect precision and you wouldn’t expect any less from an idol who’s spent years honing his talents. But despite how awe-struck you are to see this side of him in person, it just wasn’t enough to completely erase the feeling that you’ve been betrayed.
It stings even more when the song ends and the studio is filled with deafening screams from the audience yet again. For once, Wonwoo’s stoic expression cracks with a handsome grin as he and the rest of his bandmates huddle together and exchange high fives. 
That person on stage is both the man you caught feelings for and a stranger at the same time. He easily smiles at the fans the same way he would smile at you, but the difference between Woo and Wonwoo is that only one of them is willing to show this part of his life to the rest of the world. 
Did he not trust you enough? Did he think you’d act like some crazy fan if he told you the truth?
You love Haewon. You love your little sister more than anything in the world, but you can’t pretend that things are okay when the man who kept you in the dark is standing right in front of you, clueless of the revelation that occurred to you just now.
“Where are you going?” Haewon calls out when you make your way out of the rows of seats—earning yourself a collection of glares from the other fans in the vicinity. “Unnie, hey!”
The last thing you want to do is ditch her for something you promised you’d see through until the end but you’re just so fucking done. You don’t want to see Wonwoo right now. Or hear him and his stupidly perfect voice through the studio’s sound system. 
Right now, you just…want to be alone.
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About two weeks after you stormed out of the first and last music show pre-recording you’ll ever attend in your life, things have more or less mellowed out. Sort of.
You’ve been taking fewer and fewer shifts at the shelter as graduation draws ever-so near. But aside from wanting to focus on getting your academic backlogs over with, you also wanted to stay away from the one place that Woo—or should you say Wonwoo—can easily find you and subsequently corner you to talk. Because you don’t want to talk to someone who’s basically been lying to your face the entire time you’ve been friends.
Well, you suppose if you really don’t want to hear even a peep out of him, you should’ve blocked his number altogether. But that’s not really the case.
Your phone buzzes while you’re in the middle of signing off adoption papers to a couple who wanted to adopt one of the shelter cats. You thought it was pretty adorable of them to make that decision since having a pet together is almost as good as having a kid together after all.
Thinking it was from your adviser, you snuck a glance towards the notifications in your homescreen. But when you see a familiar emoji plastered on the sender’s nickname, you’re quick to put it face down on the wooden desk.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [09:35]: Good morning. Are you at the shelter today? Can I speak to you?
How he has it in him to keep texting you as if you haven’t given him nothing but radio silence for the past two weeks, you’re not sure. Wonwoo must’ve sensed that something was amiss the moment you stopped replying to him altogether, but he never tried to pester you about what was wrong. Instead, he simply continued sending all those messages to check in on you despite the fact that it’s almost as if he’s talking to a wall.
Well, it’s not like you have time to entertain him now anyways. 
“Are you sure she doesn’t have a name yet?” One of your clients—the boyfriend—asks as he smooths down his newly adopted Maine Coon’s fur. 
The girlfriend rolls her eyes. “You heard the nice shelter lady, Vern. This one just wouldn’t respond to any name they tried to give her.”
You agree with a half-hearted laugh, trying your best to ignore the guilt that’s perpetually swelling in your heart the longer you ignore Wonwoo’s pleas. “Yup. Our director said she’s got a bit of an attitude, but I think she just has high standards.”
Vern the Boyfriend makes a funny face at that. “So you’re saying that she doesn’t like the names she’s been given so far?”
“Mhmm. We tried Cupcake, Winter, Princess, and Lily, but she liked none of those. Try naming her something fancy. ”
“Chairman Meow?”
“Vern.” 
“What? You gotta admit it’s funny, Sohee.”
Sohee the Girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, but it’s an overused pun now! Think of something else.”
“Hmm. How about…Milana?”
“Is that because Seokmin wouldn’t shut up about his trip to Milan?”
“Ugh, yeah. Two months later and he still won’t stop talking about—”
“The gorgonzola he had for dinner the night before he flew back to Korea. I know. You won’t stop talking about it either.”
“Hey, Seokmin-hyung pays great attention to detail when it comes to food. You can’t help but want it, too.”
As you observe the friendly banter between the couple, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You don’t come across two people who complement each other as well as they do, and from the curious glint in their newly adopted cat’s eyes, you think she likes being in their company as well.
“Fine, let’s test it out first,” Sohee huffs before scratching behind the Maine Coon’s ears. “We’re going to call you Milana. Does that sound good to you?”
When the cat nuzzles her hand with a pleased meow, Sohee and Vern turn to glance at each other at the same time—two matching smiles plastered on their faces.
God. You can only wish to have what they do.
Once the rest of the documents have been finalized, you and Mina—who just got back from updating the vaccination records for all the animals in the shelter—see your most recent clients off. Vern the Boyfriend, Sohee the Girlfriend, and Milana the Child are off to the streets to start the next chapter of their lives or whatever.
When the door to the front entrance clicks shut, you let out the longest, deepest sigh known to mankind. Your coworker stifles a laugh.
“Looks like someone’s jealous,” Mina comments. 
You whine. “How could I not be jealous of that? They’re so in love, it’s sickening. They even got a kid together!” 
“You know, you could easily have that too if you just stopped avoiding—”
“Oh, look at the time!” You interrupt her a little too theatrically, stomping off to the direction of the break room. “Gotta go meet my thesis adviser. Kino and the other volunteers should show up in the next hour, though!”
You don’t catch the frustrated look on Mina’s face as you make a hasty retreat, but it doesn’t make you any less guilty about trying to skirt around the topic every chance you get. Mina’s always had your back during these past two weeks. Though you never told her why you’re avoiding your not-so-quote-unquote crush like the plague, she’d always come up with excuses and alibis to throw him off your trail. 
Which, coincidentally, happens again just as you’re changing out of your uniform.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for a sibling for Hani?” you hear Mina sigh from outside.
The person she’s talking to laughs softly. “No. I think you know why I’m here again.”
God. That fucking voice.
“Well, again, she’s not here,” your coworker bluffs. “And uh, word of advice, I get that you’re hot shit and all, but if you keep trying to bother my friend who, for some reason, doesn’t want anything to do with you, I might have to call the authorities.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.
That’s a little too different from the typical ‘oh I’m sure she’ll come around one of these days’ spiel that Mina always feeds to Wonwoo every time he visits. Sure, you’re not yet ready to face him yet after everything that’s happened, but it’s not like you want him thrown in jail—
“Uh, right. I get it,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat in the process. “It’s just that she hasn’t spoken to me in days and I’m a little worried—”
“That’s clearly a sign for you to back off, buddy.” You can almost see Mina with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been keeping myself from saying anything about it, but I’ve always found it strange how often you visit a goddamn animal shelter. And now that she’s clearly avoiding you, you’re still trying to corner her? Are you a stalker or something?”
Fuck. This isn’t how the conversation is supposed to go! 
Mina’s job is to just politely drive Wonwoo away so you can slip out of the building without having to talk to him. But your coworker must’ve misinterpreted your persistent reluctance to meet him as genuine fear and…while you’re glad you have a friend who looks out for you like that, she’s going about all of this the wrong way!
Wonwoo doesn’t speak for a long time and your heart squeezes at the notion that he’s been called all those harsh words when all he wanted to do was talk to you. You didn’t even give him any reasons as to why you suddenly decided to cut him off. But instead of marching out there to face him and clear the air yourself…
You stay hidden in the break room like a fucking coward.
“I understand why you’d assume that, but I don’t have any ill intentions—”
“That's exactly what a guy with ill intentions would say,” Mina scoffs. “Do both of us a favor and just leave, yeah? And stop trying to contact her when she obviously wants nothing to do with you anymore.”
The silence hangs thick from outside and despite being in the break room, you swear you can almost choke on it yourself. 
You’re not sure what expression Wonwoo is wearing. Actually, you don’t even know him well enough to know those kinds of things. The most you’ve seen of his face was during that quiet night you spent together two weeks ago and you’ve severed contact with him all because of something that he probably could have explained if only you gave him the chance to.
“Okay,” he whispers so softly, you almost don’t catch it. “Thanks for your time.”
Fortunately, Mina doesn’t try to add any more fuel to the fire. All you hear is the sound of retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door clicking shut. 
It’s only when your coworker pokes her head inside the break room that you realize you’ve been holding your breath.
“He’s gone now,” she murmurs with a comforting smile. “And if he doesn’t stop bothering you even after that, I’ll raise the complaint to the director himself. I’m sure he can pull some legal strings to keep that guy out of the area for good.”
You find it kind of ironic that a few minutes ago, Mina was teasing you about him and now things have escalated into restraining order territory. But you can’t really blame her for it.
Especially when you’ve done nothing to clear up the misunderstanding.
“Right. Thanks, Mina.” You manage a thin smile, fingers absentmindedly drifting to the black cat enamel you still pinned to your uniform’s chest pocket.
“I really appreciate it.”
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Haewon 🪷 [10:30]: Unnie hiii
Haewon 🪷 [10:33]: Can you call me as soon as you read this? Xoxo
You get to check Haewon’s message three hours late because finally, finally you’ve managed to defend your thesis after innumerable sleepless nights and neverending changes to your manuscript draft. Your panelists and advisers had nothing but praises to sing about your work—even going as far as to promise that your paper will definitely be published in the next volume of the academic journal you’d been secretly hoping it’ll get selected for. 
It’s still surreal that the only thing you’ve got left on your university to-do list is to attend the commencement rites scheduled in three weeks’ time. Four grueling years have really just gone by in a flash. 
After enjoying one of your last lunch breaks in the quad with some old classmates who’ve also conquered the figurative beast that is their undergrad thesis, you excuse yourself for a while to give your little sister a ring. Haewon picks up on the second ring. 
“About time you called,” she huffs. “I thought you were sleeping in the day again.”
You shake your head with a laugh despite the fact that she can’t see the gesture. “No more sleeping in the day for me ‘cause I’m graduating.”
Haewon gasps—loud enough to create static across the line. “Really? Oh my god. That’s good news then! Mom and dad were actually getting worried about you, you know? You’ve been throwing yourself into that stupid thesis of yours for a month now.” 
It takes a while for you to formulate a response, something akin to guilt creeping into your heart at the prospect of worrying your parents sick. But then again, what’s done is done. You can catch up on the several hours of sleep and countless brain cells you’ve lost trying to make your final manuscript actually make sense.
“It’s all good now,” you reassure. “All you guys have to do now is fly over to Seoul for my graduation and I can pack my bags and go back to the countryside as soon as I can.” 
You half-expect Haewon to laugh off your haste to travel back to your hometown and say something about how you’re better off in the city than this old dump. 
But you’re met with silence instead.
“Um,” she starts nervously after a few moments. “I know most of the stuff that’s been stressing you out is gone now, but… Are you sure you’re okay?”
The question makes you swallow thickly. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Unnie, I’m your sister,” Haewon says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture her scowling at you. “We both know you’ve been acting really weird ever since the pre-recording. I couldn’t pester you about it ‘cause I had to go back home the next day. And I didn’t want to bother you while you were finishing up your thesis.
“So now that all those obstacles are out of the way, do you mind telling me what’s wrong?”
The sound of the other students milling around the quad rings in your ears as you process Haewon’s words. When you take a deep breath, the exhale is accompanied by defeated laughter.
You’re an idiot to think you could ever escape your little sister’s scrutiny.
“I know you’re going to give me shit if I say it’s nothing you should worry about—”
“You’re right,” she interjects. “I will give you shit.”
“—but it really is nothing you should worry about,” you continue anyway, toying with the hem of your sweater with a wistful sigh. “Long story short, it’s…boy problems. Boy problems that I’ve ignored long enough that they just went away all on their own.”
At the other line, Haewon makes a strangled noise as if that’s not the answer she was expecting. “Come again?”
“Yeah, Hae. Your big sister actually has boy problems,” you chortle. “Weird, right?”
“Yes and you didn’t even bother telling me about it at all?!” She crows angrily. “You have to give me the gist or I’m hanging up and booking the next flight to Seoul.” 
For a moment, you hesitate and give yourself a moment to think about what you can and can’t tell Haewon over a phone call when she’s a whole plane ride away from you. 
She absolutely cannot know that the boy in question is Wonwoo. You’ll probably spend more time trying to convince her that what you’re saying is true than avoiding a pity party. So instead, you tell her:
“Well, this boy and I had…something good going for us, I think. I like him, you know—really, really like him. But then one day, I found out that he’s been keeping this important thing about himself from me.” A sigh. “Like, I know some stuff is none of my business, but it’s so easy for him to let others know about that…that thing, yet somehow he never bothered to tell me. I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t trust me enough.”
Surprisingly, Haewon lets out a hum of understanding. “Yeah, that’s kind of a dick move on his part. Did you confront him about it?”
You find yourself tongue-tied for a moment—a bit embarrassed to admit to your little sister that you chose the coward’s way out of this. 
“Um, that’s the thing. I kind of ghosted him when I found out,” you tell her sheepishly. “I don’t think he knows the reason why I suddenly just dipped to this day. Haven’t spoken to him in…two months.” 
“Uh-huh. So all this time, you’ve been burying your guilt in schoolwork. Is that it?”
The straightforward tone catches you off guard for a second. “That’s not—”
“Unnie,” Haewon calls out firmly, making you close your mouth. “Again, I’m your sister. I know things about you that others don’t—things that you don’t either, probably. And trust me when I say this, but you are not the confrontational type. Don’t worry though because it’s perfectly fine to avoid the things you don’t want to deal with. Especially if you’re dealing with a person that’s more trouble than they’re worth.
“But…you said that you really, really like him. Present tense.” She pauses briefly, as if letting you digest what she’s saying a little better. “If the circumstances were even slightly different, I would’ve cheered you on for ghosting someone who hasn’t been one hundred percent honest with you because, duh? Deserved. But from the way you’ve been coping with what happened, I can’t help but think that avoiding him like this isn’t what you wanted to do at all.” 
Haewon’s words flow from the speaker and lance straight through your heart, and you start to wonder when she started sounding so reliable. You’re used to looking out for her even with the distance separating you. But ironically, it’s in your last year of college that your sister effortlessly dissected the dilemma that’s been plaguing you for weeks.
“Look, I think you’ll feel much better about all this if you just talk to him,” she continues when you don’t utter a word in response. “Not that I’m siding with some semi-lying jerk, but maybe he had his reasons for hiding…whatever he was hiding from you? If he gives you a bullshit excuse, then at least the ghosting will finally be justified, right?”
Her frankness makes you snort. “I guess.”
“Good. Now hang up and call him now.”
“...What?” 
“You heard me.”
“Haewon, I can’t just call him out of nowhere after ignoring him for so long.”
“Pfft. Of course you can! If he doesn’t answer, then that still justifies the ghosting because he obviously doesn’t want you enough. Men like that don’t deserve you, unnie.”
“...Fine. Point taken.”
You end the call after Haewon makes you swear to keep her posted about the situation and your love life in general from now on. Sighing, you reluctantly scroll through your messaging app—finding a conversation that’s long been buried by more recent texts from other people after he sent his final messages to you.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:35]: It’s been three weeks since you last replied. Hope you’re doing okay. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:36]: Mina told me that you wanted nothing to do with me anymore but I really don’t understand why because…aren’t we good? Didn’t we have something back there? Or was I just reading you wrong the whole time?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [02:55]: Either way, she was right about one thing at least. I’ve probably made you uncomfortable with my texts. Kind of pathetic now that I think about it. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:01]: I’m sorry for constantly bothering you like this. It’s just that…I want to know what went wrong.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:05]: It’s getting harder for me to sleep at night knowing I fucked up something that could’ve been the start of something nice. I was already planning our first date, you know?
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:10]: Fuck. Now it just sounds like I’m gaslighting haha.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [03:17]: Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t even know anymore.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [04:25]: What I do know is that I miss you. So much.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:05]: Uh. Sorry about all of that. I had a few drinks and…you know how it goes.
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:12]: I’ll stop texting you for real now. 
Woo 🐈‍⬛ [10:15]: I hope your studies go well. Thank you for being part of my life, no matter how short our time together was.
Fuck. 
This is going to be much more difficult than you thought.
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You don’t really blame yourself when it takes you a few days to decide whether or not you should call Wonwoo. The choice has been weighing on you like a cloud above your head and you had to decline several invites to go out from your friends because you simply cannot sit still, knowing that you have to do something about…whatever’s going on with the two of you.
Part of you insists on just leaving it as it is. Wonwoo is an idol that’s almost a decade into his career and you’re much too certain that he’s met enough people in his life to deem the loss of your company specifically a big deal. He has his members, his fans, and anything else a person could ever want.
So what if some college senior he doesn’t even know that well just ghosted him out of nowhere?
But even with that logic, you still end up holding your breath before pressing the call button one Tuesday afternoon. 
There are a total of five attempts made and all five lead you straight to voicemail—each instance making your heart grow heavier and heavier once the prerecorded message comes to an end. You secretly fear that he must’ve blocked your number altogether. Why wouldn’t he after you’ve wasted his time as much as you did?
Others would’ve considered this as a sign to just give up. The universe is basically telling you that the brief time you shared together would yield nothing more. Wonwoo has his own career to worry about and as do you, now that you’re finally going to be ejected from university and into the life of an unemployed fresh grad. You’re better off not chasing after the things you’ve purposely run away from in the first place.
So why on earth are you looking up the exact address of his company building, making the long commute for the slim chance of running into him against all odds?
The security around the area might look lax but you can spot the assortment of security guards stationed both inside and outside of the company building pretty easily. Given the nature of the business they’re running, it would make sense that they’d put up all possible countermeasures against people who might try to inconvenience their artists in any way.
Not wanting to be branded as a crazed fan, you decide to keep your distance—purposely lingering outside the shopping center just across the street as you brainstorm how exactly you’re going to meet up with Wonwoo. 
But as the minutes ticked past, your sense of reason is starting to overpower your desire to clear things up with him. For one, you don’t even know what his schedule looks like. How can you be so sure that he’ll even be there today? Worse, would Wonwoo even want to speak with you after everything? Despite having kept the fact that he’s an idol a secret to you all this time, he has all the right to refuse speaking with you when you never even gave him a chance to explain himself.
The noise of the busy district fades in the background as your eyes fall to Wonwoo’s final text message. You haven’t even thought of texting him since you considered reaching out. But with the fact that your earlier phone calls didn’t go through, you don’t think you can bear seeing your apologetic messages get denied in the very real chance that he’s blacklisted your number altogether.
God. You feel so pathetic.
“Hey, it’s you!”
You immediately blanche at the feeling of someone placing a hand on your shoulder—turning around to see who it is only to be met with the sight of two familiar faces.
“Oh,” you voice out somewhat dumbly. “Miss…Sohee? And Vern?”
The couple who adopted a cat from the shelter flashes you pretty smiles, the two of them carrying grocery bags in each arm. Sohee perks up when you recognize them. “Yup! I didn’t expect to see the nice shelter lady around these parts. What brings you here?”
“Just…stuff.” The laugh you spare them is a little too forced, but if they notice, they don’t comment on it. “How about you guys? How has Milana been?”
“Feels right at home in either of our apartments,” Vern chuckles. “You were right about her having high standards. We always end up doing our grocery shopping here instead of the supermarket near my place ‘cause Lana refuses to eat any of the cheap cat food being sold there.”
Sohee sighs in agreement. “Mhmm. You wouldn’t even think she was a rescue with how high maintenance she is, but we’re idiots that dote on her all the time. It’s just a good thing we work right across the street from here.”
Feeling endeared with how much they spoil their new child aside, the latter part of Sohee’s statement catches your attention for a moment. “Sorry? You work right across the street?”
The moment the words leave your lips, the charming smiles on their faces falter before the couple before you share a look. A brief moment of telepathic communication must’ve occurred between the both of them, as if wordlessly discussing whether they should respond, but in the end Sohee relents.
“Yeah. Vern and I work at HYBE,” she chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you don’t recognize him, since he’s—”
“A very loyal employee that the nice shelter lady can’t possibly recognize,” Vern interjects with a cough into his fist and the immediate reaction makes it easier to put two and two together.
He’s an idol. One hundred percent an idol.
Deciding to play along, you offer up a nod in understanding. “I see. Guess you guys are heading back for the day?”
“Yep. We had one of the other members—uh, I mean, one of our friends look after Milana while we had our grocery run,” Vern explains not-so-smoothly.
“As much as we’d like to stay and chat for a while longer, our baby kind of needs us,” Sohee tells you with an apologetic look. “I hope things at the shelter are running smoothly! We’ve seen how dedicated you guys are to taking care of those poor animals.”
You nod. “Of course. I’ll see you guys around?”
“Anytime!”
You and the beautiful couple exchange quaint bows in farewell before the two of them start walking away. But with each footstep that they take further and further away from you, the itch to run after them and ask what you’ve been dying to when they said they both worked at HYBE grows all the more unbearable.
Cut it out, you mentally hiss at yourself. You can’t bother other people about your issues with Wonwoo. That’s just a whole new low. 
You should’ve just gone the opposite direction when the conversation ended. You should’ve just directed yourself to the nearest bus stop back to your apartment—buried all of this in the past where it belongs.
But it’s as if your body has a mind of its own. The next thing you know, you’re sprinting towards Sohee and Vern before they could cross the next intersection—surprising the couple with your sudden re-entry.
“Did you need something?” Sohee asks, accommodating and confused all at once.
Now or never.
“Yes, actually,” you dole out breathlessly, pursing your lips before adding:
“Do you guys know where Wonwoo is?”
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Out of all the ways you thought this day could turn out, you never would’ve imagined being in the backseat of one of HYBE’s music producers—breezing through the city’s freeway as she interrogates you about just how exactly you know Jeon Wonwoo.
“So you’re the reason he’s being so off lately,” Sohee chuckles before switching lanes. “Wonwoo’s always been the quiet type, but sometimes you can just tell when there’s a lot on his mind. Isn’t that right, Vernon?”
Vernon, who you come to realize is part of the same group as Wonwoo, glances at you from the rearview mirror with a shake of his head. “I can vouch. Wonwoo-hyung’s been working on sharing stuff with us, but of course there’s still some things he’d like to keep to himself.”
I also don’t want to be closed off from others anymore. Back then, I mostly just kept everything to myself—bottling it all up until it was just unbearable.
Great. Now you feel twice as horrible.
“Honestly, I was kind of scared that you guys would think I’m a sasaeng,” you admit with a dry laugh before settling further into the car’s plush upholstery. 
“While we have no reason not to think that with all the weirdos popping up these days,” Sohee starts before her lips curve into a smile, “it just so happens that Soonyoung also can’t keep his mouth shut about Wonwoo’s little crush.”
That makes your face heat up a little. “Soonyoung like…Wonwoo’s friend?”
“You might know him better as Hoshi,” Vernon explains. 
Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi…
You snap your fingers once you figure it out. “Yeah. He’s my sister’s bias wrecker.”
“Now we learn that your sister is a fan, too? Huh. Small world.”
“Anyway,” Sohee interjects. “The reason why we believed your explanation was because Soonyoung described Wonwoo’s crush as an animal lover. He’s not so much of a blabbermouth that he gave us more details aside from that, but Vernon here told me about how Wonwoo always comes late to their unit meetings because he keeps making all these detours first.”
Vernon stifles a laugh. “I actually found out about the shelter because Coups-hyung insisted that we follow him around to figure out where he’s been going. It didn’t occur to me at the time that his animal lover crush and the nice shelter lady could be the same person.”
At this point, you can honestly get used to being called a nice shelter lady. But that aside, you can’t help but flush even further at all the things being revealed to you right now. 
It’s…a lot to unpack. 
First, Wonwoo has a crush on you? A complete nobody? Then again, from how often he’s been seeking you out before things went to shit, you could infer that he’s at least a little bit interested from how he kept going out of his way to see you. He’s even late to meetings because of his little visits. This so-called crush was quite obvious, you just don’t like how flustered hearing it out loud makes you feel.
“But then Wonwoo-hyung just started showing up on time to our meetings during our comeback promotions,” Vernon continues. “We were glad we didn’t have to keep waiting for him to start, but…we also noticed that he’s been kind of down lately. The first time it happened, I assumed it was just an off day for him, though now that we met you like this, that’s definitely not the case.”
Wonwoo’s been feeling down? Because of you?
If the roles were reversed, you can say that you’d feel the same if he just stopped talking to you when you thought you were already growing closer. It doesn’t help that the last time you were together, you shared far too many kisses that mere friends should indulge each other with. 
You sigh, leaning your head against the headrest.
You’re such an idiot. A selfish, inconsiderate—
“Well, here we are.”
When the car pulls over, you don’t even realize that Sohee already left the freeway and drove into one of the roads overlooking the Han River. You can barely keep yourself from choking on your own breath when you spot a very familiar motorcycle parked in front of the vehicle. It doesn’t help that Sohee pulled over a certain spot underneath the elevated highway that you’re very much certain you’ve already been to once before.
“Hyung doesn’t know that we know about this place. He never brings anyone else here,” Vernon informs you with a small smile. “From the look on your face, we can assume that he’s already brought you here though, right?”
You can’t even deny it at this point. “Yeah…”
Sohee moves to unlock the doors before glancing behind the driver’s seat with an encouraging look. “Well, how about you clear things upso we can start going on double dates and stuff.”
“Sohee,” her boyfriend groans.
“What? I think it’d be a great idea.” She pouts. “We can even rope Nari and Mingyu into tagging along. Then it’ll be a triple date.”
“What she means to say is,” Vernon cuts in before Sohee can get another word out. “No pressure. You go sort out the stuff you need to with Wonwoo-hyung. I’m sure the two of you can make the best decision for each other once you get to talk properly.”
The best decision, huh…
Your new friends watch you with wordless encouragement as you open the door to your left, letting out a long-winded breath so you wouldn’t be too psyched out by the circumstances. You thank them both with a subtle nod as you gather enough courage to see the person you’ve been longing to meet again for a while now.
Now or never, you repeat to yourself before finally stepping out of the car.
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Wonwoo’s thinking spot looks much different in the day than it does at night.
You had a pretty hard time navigating the short terrain from the road to the old, weathered steps of the watchtower because of the lack of proper illumination. If it weren’t for Wonwoo guiding you the entire time, you would’ve face planted into the pebbled pathway on the first few steps. 
The sun is already setting when you make it to your destination—red orange rays splintering through the high rise buildings on the other side of the river bank. It’s not difficult to spot Wonwoo’s tall figure leaning across the rusty railing of the watchtower, a gentle smile gracing his handsome face as he plays with the growing kitten in his arms. 
He doesn’t notice you at the foot of the concrete steps right away, too engrossed with playing with Hani to take in the rest of his surroundings. But the longer you watch them from afar, the more your chest twists with guilt.
All this time, you never really thought about how Wonwoo must’ve been faring since you ghosted him. You merely assumed that he’d still be living his best life despite what happened between the two of you. The thought that he’ll still be better off without you in his life spurred you on to solely focus on the things you’ve got going on your end. You didn’t consider just how your actions would affect him. Not even once. 
But now, despite having such an adorable cat to keep him company, it isn’t hard to tell that he’s not in the most stellar of moods.
It’s not like you’ve seen Wonwoo smile a lot when you still knew him as Woo—no thanks to his silly little face masks. But you always liked how his eyes crinkled behind his glasses whenever you said something he finds funny or amusing. The easygoing body language he always seemed to have around you.
There’s none of that now.
“Wonwoo.”
He visibly stiffens at the sound of someone calling his name. Cautiously, Wonwoo tucks Hani closer to his chest—glancing around for anyone who could have infiltrated his safe haven.
When his eyes land on you, you can almost hear his breath hitch from where you’re standing.
Seeing no indication that he doesn’t want you here, you swallow the lump in your throat before climbing up the stairs. Each step you take is familiar yet foreign at the same time and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears the closer you get to him. The startled expression on Wonwoo’s face doesn’t falter even when you’re mere feet in front of him on top of the watchtower—like he’s having a hard time grasping your existence.
Hani, however, doesn’t seem all that fazed. The black kitten mewls in delight at the sight of you, squirming around in Wonwoo’s arms, which seems to snap her owner out of his stupor.
His throat bobs. “You know my name.”
You laugh softly. “It isn’t hard to figure it out when you’re as famous as you are.”
Silence permeates the air by the riverside as Wonwoo processes the words you just told him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, hands absentmindedly running across Hani’s fur.
“So that’s why,” he chuckles with a shake of his head. “I should’ve known…”
You mirror the gesture somewhat vigorously, your throat closing up from all the things you want to say. He doesn’t deserve to be left hanging all because of that stupid reason alone. He doesn’t deserve those hurtful words from Mina.
Most of all, he doesn’t deserve to feel this shitty all because you were too much of a coward to communicate with him.
“I’m sorry.” 
He startles at your apology—obviously not expecting that to be the first thing you say to him after two months of radio silence. “W-Why are you sorry? I should be—”
“It was unfair of me to just ghost you like that when you haven’t explained yourself,” you murmur, tucking your hands behind your back as you stare down at your shoes in shame. “I’m sure you had your reasons for not telling me right away, but… I selfishly thought you didn’t trust me enough to let me know.”
“No,” he quickly clarifies. “It’s not like that at all. I trust you—so much.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It took me a while, but I realized that along the way. The last time we were here, you entrusted me with the story of how you coped with losing someone. You entrusted me with your thoughts, your feelings, your secrets. And I took all that for granted because you didn’t tell me you were an idol.”
Wonwoo falls silent for only a moment as if considering what words to say next. Hani seems to sense his distress, cuddling up to his chest in an attempt to soothe him. He notices what she’s doing right away and Wonwoo scratches behind her ears with a breathless chuckle.
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t plan on hiding it forever. I knew you would find out eventually—just not as soon as you did,” he murmurs. “It was also unfair of me to take advantage of the fact that you didn’t know me as Wonwoo. But…I wanted to keep my career out of the equation first because it’s nice being treated like a normal person. You never put me on a pedestal or looked at me like I was some sort of god.
“You treated me like I was human.”
This time, you’re the one who’s at a loss for words. 
Having Haewon as a sister, you have this preconceived notion about idols where they have the world in the palm of their hands. You thought for the longest time that all they had to do was go up the stage to sing and dance and look beautiful and the rest will follow. 
Hearing Wonwoo tell you this easily subverted all those assumptions. 
You’ve never been good at telling people the things they need to hear. That’s Haewon’s area of expertise, not yours. So instead of offering up any words of comfort, you quickly close the distance that’s been keeping you apart to throw your arms around his broad shoulders.
Wonwoo freezes up when you pull him into a hug and he loathes the fact that he can’t even reciprocate it given that he has his hands full. It’s kind of adorable how careful you’re being to make sure you don’t accidentally squish Hani between your bodies. 
Suddenly, all that heaviness that’s been lingering in his heart for weeks dissipates in a flash. Wonwoo relishes in the feeling of your warmth seeping into his, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds back his emotions.
“Can we start over again?” you murmur. “We still haven’t had our first date, right?”
When you feel the sound of his laughter rumbling in his chest, you can’t help the goosebumps that rise across your skin. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to forgive me that fast.”
Pulling away for a moment, you shoot him a dirty look. “Jeon Wonwoo, are you saying I’m easy?”
“Not at all.” Wonwoo grins and you can barely look at him without recoiling at how good he looks. 
His hair has grown much longer than you remember and seeing the smile that oh-so easily hooked you in deeper than you already were, you already know that you can’t ever hope to put up a fight. 
Not when he’s so love-of-your-life-shaped.
“Since we’re at the point of catching up, I’m actually graduating in three weeks.”
Wonwoo sharply turns to look at you with a scowl as he puts Hani in a little cat backpack he got for her. “Three weeks? Shit… I think we’re going to have a concert at that time.”
You wave away his concern with a smile. “I didn’t mean I was expecting you to show up at the venue, doofus. Can’t have any weird rumors about you going around by attending my graduation.”
“Rumors about what?” he challenges.
“You know.”
“I actually don’t.”
“We just made up ten minutes ago, Do you really want me to bail on you again?”
“Hey, I just thought that if you ever want to spark some dating rumors, we can make it happen any time.” 
“We’re not even dating!”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“It’s just like you said—I still owe you that first date, don’t I?”
“...Have I told you that you’re insufferable?”
“I’m actually surprised you didn’t start calling me that when I kept visiting the shelter too often to be considered normal.”
“That reminds me, why were you visiting the shelter so much?”
When Wonwoo hands you Hani’s cat backpack, you take it as an invitation to hitch a ride on his motorcycle. After all, it would be uncomfortable to have it sitting between the two of you. However, he takes you completely by surprise by answering you with:
“I like you. That’s why.”
It takes you about five whole seconds to recover from what he just said but it’s five seconds too late because Wonwoo is already chuckling to himself as if he deserves to have the last laugh.
“You’re lucky that I like you too,” you mumble as you carefully hop on his ride—sitting comfortably behind him while making sure Hani is strapped securely behind you. “If I didn’t, Mina would’ve made our boss file a restraining order against you.”
Wonwoo hands you a spare helmet before putting on his own, laughing again as he clicks the lock in place. “Dating rumors and stalking rumors? Being with you sounds like such a big hassle now.”
“Are we going on that first date or not?!”
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Two months after graduating and four weeks into officially dating Jeon Wonwoo, you find out the real reason he was taking so damn long to make up his mind about adopting Hani.
The landlord doesn’t prohibit pets—he loves them, actually. 
His dog, Seol, is a little shy, but she gets along with Hani just fine.
But then his old roommate, Mingyu, dropped by to visit Wonwoo’s apartment one day, sneezing all over the place like it’s pollen season. Except the pollen in question is cat fur and it just so happens that he didn’t bring any of his allergy meds for the trip.
“As much as I want to cuddle on the couch catching up on the Marvel Cinematic Universe with you guys, I gotta go,” Mingyu explains while blowing his nose into a tissue. “I’ll die if I spend even a second longer here.”
Wonwoo throws a piece of popcorn at him. “Didn’t you say that you’re going on a date with Nari?”
“Oh. That, too.”
“If she finds out that you just remembered as an afterthought, she’s going to kill you,” you tease while shoving a handful of your movie snacks into your mouth. “At least, that’s what I’d do if Wonwoo did the same thing.”
“Oh, she will. That’s why neither of you are going to tattle on me,” the beefy idol huffs before tossing the soiled tissue in the trash bin. “Anyway, Wonwoo-hyung, you should totally keep in touch with this pet sitter that Seungcheol-hyung discovered recently. A bunch of other artists leave their pets with her whenever they have tight schedules.”
Your boyfriend merely looks at him with an unimpressed look. “Are you saying that just so I can leave Hani there when you come over to play video games with me?”
“Yes.”
Mingyu leaves shortly after receiving a phone call from his girlfriend, Nari, who sounded nothing short of furious when she asked where on earth he is and why he’s late for their date again. Wonwoo tells you that his best friend has a thing for pissing off Nari just so he has an excuse to do grand gestures for her without his girlfriend complaining about it. You tell him that he should start doing the same too.
“By the way, you’re flying back to Jeju for a while, right?” Wonwoo asks once the credits start rolling in the film playing on his TV—the loose grip he has around your waist tightening ever-so slightly.
You shift your weight on the couch to cuddle closer to him. “Yeah. I haven’t seen my parents and Haewon since I graduated. Plus, I don’t have to start working until next month, so I can afford a last-minute getaway.”
He nods. “I still think it’s funny you haven’t told your sister about me. Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“Quit saying weird stuff, Jeon Wonwoo,” you huff before hitting him in the chest. Damn those firm pecs. “I just want to see the look on her face when she finds out I’m dating the person she ships with Mingyu for fun.”
“And I still can’t believe my future sister-in-law is a Gyuldaengie.”
You try not to think about how he said Haewon is his future in-law. You really do.
Once the last of the end credits pans on-screen, the bonus scene at the end of every Marvel movie starts playing and you can’t help but snort when Eddy gets snapped back to his own universe before he can even pay off his tab to the bartender. Just when you’re about to ask Wonwoo if he wants to watch the next movie, you realize he’s had his eyes on you the entire time.
“What?” you laugh.
“Nothing,” he whispers. “I just thought you were really pretty.”
“Wonwoo, you tell me that every thirty minutes. Don’t you get tired of it?”
You yelp when he abruptly pulls you onto his lap, steadying you by the hips so you wouldn’t accidentally topple to the floor. He flashes you a lazy grin as he traces circles along the curve of your thighs and you can barely suppress a groan when you look down at him.
He might look like some otherworldly creature every time he kills it on stage, but you love this Wonwoo just the same—dressed down with his glasses sitting all crooked on the bridge of his nose, hair falling across his eyes. 
“Never,” he says simply. 
There’s something oddly sensual about the way he says it and at that moment, you catch on to the half-lidded look in his eyes. You gulp, gaze instinctively wandering around his apartment to look for Hani and Seol, who you spot dozing next to each other in the kitchen. 
Now that you’re sure none of the kids are watching, you let out a defeated sigh before lacing your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him.
Wonwoo is a guy you caved and kissed before the first date, so it’s pretty natural for the two of you to fall into this degree of intimacy every now and again. His effect on you is especially lethal whenever you spend several days apart because of the nature of his career. 
But even if you’re yet to cross that line with your boyfriend, the possibility of it finally coming into fruition becomes more and more real every time his hot tongue slides against yours. 
“Won…woo—” you gasp when you feel his cold fingers sneak up your shirt, hands firmly grabbing your waist to keep you in place. 
Your boyfriend chuckles and the low vibrations that come from his chest shoot straight to your core. “I know tonight was supposed to be movie night, but you’re making it really hard to keep my hands off of you.” 
“That’s what you say all the time,” you groan as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Fuck. “Always blaming me for your lack of self-control.”
“I can’t help it when you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before tugging you back down for another heated kiss.
You’ve fooled around with Wonwoo a handful of times and during said times, you’ve gotten an idea of how…into it he gets when pleasuring you. It’s almost as if he delights in seeing you come undone for him even if it’s just with his mouth and fingers. 
It’s during those moments that you can’t help but imagine how he would be once the two of you finally take things all the way. But for all your teasing about how he has questionable self-control, Wonwoo has done nothing but respect the boundaries you’ve clearly set when you started dating. 
“Fuck,” he rasps when he pulls away briefly, resting his head against the cushions of the sofa as he closes his eyes. “Baby, we’ve gotta stop or else I might just cave and fuck you.”
You simper. “You’re the one who started this.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m putting a stop to it before I end up doing something you don’t like!”
You shift around on his lap for a moment and Wonwoo is convinced that you’ll give him some reprieve and get off of him before he loses his mind. But then he realizes you’re grinding your hips against the hard-on he’s sporting in his sweats. 
Chuckling to yourself, you pull him by the front of his shirt—pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before leaning into his ear to whisper:
“What if I want you to fuck me, Woo?”
The deep growl that resonates in his throat sounds so fucking hot, you can feel a gush of slick surge between your thighs. He doesn’t say a word—merely opting to keep his hard stare on yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. You immediately get the gist and hold on tight to him as he carries you out of the living room and into his bedroom.
“I’m giving you a chance to back out again, sweetheart,” he sighs as he kicks the door shut behind him. “Think you can handle it when I get serious about fucking you until you can’t walk?”
The mental image he conjures in your head has you mewling in his arms, prompting you to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses as he gropes your ass like it’s always belonged to him. 
“Think you can actually make good on that though?” you challenge with a soft chuckle, grazing your teeth just below his collarbone. You won’t bite—knowing that his stylists will give him hell for it if he shows up to work with hickeys. “We both know you like to talk big sometimes.”
Wonwoo breathes out a condescending chuckle before gently easing you on top of the mattress. You didn’t think it was possible, but you swear you get even wetter when he takes off his glasses and licks his lips at the sight of you.
“Oh, baby, you’re in for a fucking ride.”
That’s how you find yourself with your back pressed against Wonwoo’s insanely sculpted chest—both your mouth and pussy stuffed with his thick fingers as he works you open enough to take his cock. He slides those thick digits in and out of your wet channel, making sure you get used to the stretch all while he muffles your noises at the same time. 
Normally, he likes hearing you get whiney and desperate for him, but there’s a charm to seeing you slobber all over his fingers as you clench up around the ones buried in your pussy. 
“Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight for me,” he whispers huskily in your ear and the sound of his rough voice layered with the lewd squelch of your cunt makes your insides tingle. “Been thinking about having this pretty pussy all to myself for a while now. You gonna let me have it now, baby? Let me wreck you on my cock?”
Wonwoo easily has the hottest voice you’ve ever heard in your entire life. While you often think about how you can fall asleep happily just listening to him talk about anything under the sun, it’s an entirely different story when he’s spouting all this filth into your ear as he prepares you for an overdue dicking down. 
“Yes, please—” You sob pathetically when he takes his fingers out of your mouth, curling your arm behind you so you can blindly grab his hair and mend your lips into a messy kiss. “Wonwoo, I need you so bad.”
“Desperate little thing,” your boyfriend chuckles before withdrawing his fingers from your needy hole. The loss has you writhing in his lap, one hand shooting out to keep him where you want him but Wonwoo coos into your ear as if to pacify you. “Shhh, baby, I need you to come first before I fuck you. You’ll be good for me and let me make you come, right?” 
Shit. Who are you to refuse when he propositions you like that?
“I need an answer, sweetheart.”
“I’ll be good,” you gasp almost immediately as your boyfriend starts parting your pussy lips with the hand that was muffling your cute noises. “I’ll be so good for you, please just—”
“Just what, baby?” Wonwoo teases and you nearly cry.
“M-Make me come on your fingers…”
He hums, slick fingers gliding along your slit. “Not if you don’t say—”
“Please,” you whimper before grinding your pussy against his hand. “Wonwoo, I wanna come. Wanna come so bad. Want you to stuff me full of your cock. Want you to—” 
It’s almost like he tapped in on every single nerve ending in your body when his dexterous fingers find your clit—rubbing the puffy bud in fast, tight circles as you start twitching in his arms. Wonwoo lets out another evil laugh as he forcibly pries your legs apart. The firmness of his grip leaves you no choice but to thrash around as he builds your orgasm from the ground up, trailing wet kisses along the column of your throat as he teases an orgasm out of you with the sound of his voice coupled with his sinful ministrations.
“So wet and ready for me. Have you thought about taking me inside this sweet little pussy? Do you think you can even fit me when you’re this tight?” he breathes into your ear and you don’t even have the dignity to bite down your moans anymore. “You’re so close, sweetheart. Let yourself go and I’ll give you what you want. I’ll blow your pretty back out over and over until you’re sick of me.”
Never, you want to tell him. I’ll never get sick of you, stupid Wonwoo.
Funnily enough, that silent jab at him is quickly followed by a mind-numbing release. It washes over you like a storm surging into a calm shore—overloading every cell in your body with pleasure until the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken rendition of your lover’s name. 
Wonwoo talks you through your high because he knows you’ve got a thing for his voice. Knows just how much tighter you get when he whispers filthy words with a sultry sweet tone. 
And when he growls, “Good fucking girl,” into your ear, you’re convinced he just made you come again while still riding the waves of your first orgasm. 
For all his vigor, Wonwoo is surprisingly patient with you as you recover from what he just put you through. He plants brief kisses all over your neck and face until your breathing finally evens out and you stop seeing stars in the seams of your vision. Your boyfriend offers up a gentle smile when you finally come to—leaning in to kiss your nose.
“You still want more?” he whispers, exercising enough restraint to be revered despite the fact that you can feel his hard, leaking cock pressed against the small of your back. 
A soft, somewhat weak laugh makes its way past your lips as you turn around to peck his lips. Wonwoo smiles against your mouth and you can’t help but do the same.
Then, you issue another challenge.
“Do your worst.”
You’re grateful now more than ever that Wonwoo is the easiest person to talk to in the entire world. You can practically count the things that he wouldn’t want to discuss with you on one hand alone. 
In other words, you’ve already had the necessary conversations about sex, should you ever have it with him in the future (A.K.A., right now). Wonwoo knows you’ve been on birth control ever since you moved to Seoul all those years ago. He knows that you get yourself tested at least once every month if you can and assures you that he does the same.
On the other hand, you’re well aware that your boyfriend has a thing for coming inside, and now that you’ve gone this far with him, you’ll gladly let Wonwoo make his fantasies a reality. 
He only agreed to it once you promised to tell him whenever you feel like he’s going too far or if he’s doing something you don’t like. You swear you would’ve married him on the spot, if it weren’t for that tiny voice in your head that suspiciously sounds like Haewon telling you off for losing it over a man who’s doing the bare minimum.
With those measures in place, you feel safe enough to let Wonwoo press your face down onto the mattress as his free hand grips your ass—fucking into your tight cunt as he tries (and fails) to keep himself from being too rough with you. 
He really, really wanted to be gentle, considering it’s your first time to lie together like this. But your unfiltered reactions do nothing but test both his patience and self-control in more ways than one. All his plans on making love to you in good old missionary have been tossed out of the window now that you’ve given him the green light to actually fuck you until you can’t walk.
“Wonwoo,” you moan, fists curling into the sheets as he cants his hips deeper and deeper—the head of his cock hitting spots your own fingers could never hope to reach. “S-So fucking good…”
“Yeah?” he breathes raspily before leaning down to press his chest against your back, wanting to engulf you in the heat of his body until it’s all you’ll ever know. “My pretty baby loves my cock that much? You want me to fuck you all the time now?”
“Uh huh.” You nod before letting out a high pitched keen when he amps up the speed of his thrusts—slamming his hips harder against your ass.
Wonwoo thinks he could really get used to the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in like this. You’re so greedy—clamping down on him as tightly as you do as you moan his name like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. But how could you not when each vein that runs along the underside of his perfect cock drags so deliciously across your velvet walls? When his balls—hot and heavy and full of enough cum to fill you to the brim—keep clapping against your pussy with each powerful thrust?
It’s the first time that you got to get a taste of what your boyfriend is capable of in bed and you can only imagine every instance that will follow once all’s said and done.
When he feels your walls start to spasm around his length every now and again, Wonwoo presses a sloppy kiss across the cut of your jaw—a hand sliding between your thighs so he can find that little bundle of nerves that made you fall apart only several minutes ago. Your reaction is immediate—crying and squirming below him even when you’re helpless against his massive frame pressing you down into the bed. 
“I’m so close, baby,” he groans into your ear, holding out for as long as he can just so he can feel the sensation of you coming around his cock. “You’re almost there, too, aren’t you? My good girl—taking my dick like it’s always been yours. Can you come with me? You can do that for me, right, sweetheart?”
The fondness in his voice strings you even further apart and you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure and delirium as Wonwoo continues his assault on your poor, abused clit. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use and manages to time his thrusts with each delicious pass on that oversensitive bud.  
It’s all over before you know it. 
You let out a long-winded moan that will definitely earn him a couple of noise complaints from the neighbors but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to fucking care at the moment. Not when your walls are clamping down so tightly around his cock—making each stroke all the more tantalizing as your pussy milks him for everything he’s got to give you. 
You mindlessly babble a string of I love yous against the sheets, a trail of drool dripping onto the mattress as Wonwoo fucks into you with heightened ferocity. He catches every single word you say and he tilts your head to the side so he can kiss you. Your boyfriend forces your tongue into a dance with his own until his hips stutter and stop—white hot emission surging into your cunt in thick spurts that he hopes would stay inside you for days if he can help himself.
You’re a mess—face painted with a fucked out expression as your pussy leaks with a mixture of yours and Wonwoo’s cum. The mere sight of it is almost enough to make him hard again, but he tells himself that he can take you up on marathon sex next time.
For now, he just wants to clean you up and tuck you back into bed.
“Woo?”
He turns to face you with a questioning look. Your boyfriend just finished with your mandatory aftercare session and is in the middle of making the bed comfortable enough for some post-sex cuddles. “Hmm?”
“You’re still free next week right?” you ask, drawing silly shapes on his chest with your finger once he finally lays down next to you.
“Yeah. I don’t have any major schedules until…” He pauses before conjuring up an imaginary calendar in his mind. “Next month. Why?”
Despite all the debauchery you’ve subjected each other to in a single night, your face still flushes as you consider what you’re about to ask him. Wonwoo smiles at that. Cute.
“How do you feel about flying to Jeju with me so I can introduce you to my family?” you ask shyly, gulping with a nervous laugh. “I totally get it if your management won’t allow it though. It’s hard to keep the media off your back when you’re so famous and—”
He doesn’t do this often, but Wonwoo shuts you up with a firm kiss.
“What are you talking about?” he murmurs, caressing your face tenderly. “Of course I want to meet them.”
When your eyes light up at his confirmation, Wonwoo swears that he couldn’t be more in love.
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Me [11:23]: hae, i’ve got good news~
Haewon 🪷 [11:24]: You’re bringing Mingyu with you to Jeju so we can get married?
Me [11:26]: very funny
Me [11:26]: not to spoil your delusions or anything but i’m bringing my boyfriend
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Omg… 
Haewon 🪷 [11:30]: Rudeness aside, is it the same guy from before? 
Me [11:31]: yep
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: AAAAAAAAA
 Haewon 🪷 [11:32]: I can’t wait to meet him!
 Haewon 🪷 [11:34]: He better be treating you right or I’ll drop kick him off Jusangjeollidae
Me [11:40]: you’ve already met him though~
Haewon 🪷 [11:41]: ?
Haewon 🪷 [11:45]: Unnie, what do you mean…
Haewon 🪷 [12:32]: Hey!!!!
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⟢ end notes: if you've made it til the end, congrats! this is the last of the doting on you! series (for now~) and i really hope you enjoyed reading through it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! special thanks to all the friends that read through this for me T T i wouldn't have done it without any of you ueueue and to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me to put up the last installment for the series, thank you for waiting <3 i hope you guys continue to support me with my future work as well!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
8K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 1 year
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Look at that stare!
Time to Study
Summary: Bucky told you he needed help with his studies, but you should have known he just wanted an excuse to kiss you.
Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: K-I-S-S-I-N-G, college AU, nicknames, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Okay, lovelies. Meet Titan and Starshine in the college AU no one asked for, Falling For You. Thank you @rookthorne, @sgt-seabass, and @chasingmarvel!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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"Bucky, I think you've been on that page for the last five minutes."
He shrugged and continued to stare, his blue eyes focused completely on you. A smile began to spread across your face before you cleared your throat and glanced at your book. Your face heated up when you still felt his gaze on you. With the looks of a model and a smile that could make panties drop, it was almost overwhelming to have his attention.
But you liked it.
“Why didn’t we meet in the library?” you asked, suddenly aware of how hot it was in your room.
Or was it him?
You were also aware of how close he was to you on your bed. You could’ve chosen to sit in a chair or on the floor, but you made the decision to take your bed. He followed suit and kept a reasonable distance. But he moved closer with each passing second until his knee almost bumped yours.
No way in hell were you going to stop him.
“It’s more comfortable here,” he replied. You tried not to lose yourself in his eyes when you dared to look at him. “Don’t you think?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you nodded. You even managed not to whimper when he placed his hand on your thigh. With his sleeve pushed up, you could see the veins in his forearm, a visual reminder of his strength. He didn’t slide his hand up any higher or apply any pressure. It rested there, like he was testing the waters.
Come on in. The water’s fine.
"It is, but I thought you said you needed my help," you reminded him when he made no move to read or look over his notes.
Some assumed that because Bucky was good looking, athletic, and a member of the most popular fraternity on campus that he got people to do his work for him. That couldn't have been further from the truth. He was a nice, smart guy, much smarter than most expected. And while he didn't brag about his grades, he more than earned his high GPA through his intelligence and hard work.
The whole package. Wait, why does he need my help again?
"Stop staring!" you said, trying your hardest not to smile when he lightly chuckled. It was such a sexy sound. "We need to study."
"Oh. I actually finished studying before I stopped by. You know I’m getting an A in that class," he smirked, shutting the book and moving it beside him. "Or did I forget to mention that?"
It was your turn to stare at him, your mouth open when he flashed his winning smile.
Smug. Bastard.
"You lied to me, Bucky Barnes."
He pouted before he smiled again. "I didn't lie. I would never lie to you.”
His hand went to the back of your neck as you tried to remember to breathe. "Yes, you did,” you huffed, not wanting to let him off the hook. Even if he distracted you the more he leaned in, his fingertips tickling your skin. “You said you needed my help. I cleared my whole afternoon."
Like he had to twist my arm to make that happen.
"I do need your help. I need a kiss and you’re the only one who can help me with that,” he argued, his nose bumping yours. “And if you want me to maintain my high GPA, I'll need to study every single one of your kisses thoroughly. Even if it takes all night."
That would’ve been cheesy from anyone else, but he made it sound so genuine.
“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled, running your fingers through his soft hair. His words flustered you and you wondered if he noticed. "What would your brothers say if they heard you?"
Ridiculous and charming and handsome and he smells good and his lips are so close to mine.
“Being ridiculous doesn’t change the fact that I need a kiss,” he said, breathing against your lips. "And no mention of my brothers when you're in my arms. Only me."
Only you, Bucky.
“After I’m done studying,” you whispered with a twinkle in your eyes.
He growled when you giggled again, but didn’t give you the chance to move away. One day you'd get out of one of his holds, but today wasn't it. “Just one little kiss, Starshine? Any kind of kiss you want as long as I get one.”
You sucked in a breath when he licked his lips, his tongue close enough that it brushed against your mouth. It would’ve been easy to close the last bit of distance and put you both out of your misery. Still playing the part of a gentleman, the hand on your thigh didn’t move. But his grip tightened a fraction.
Enough to let you know how badly he needed you.
As much as Bucky wanted to, he didn’t kiss you the night the two of you spoke for the first time. He was a gentleman and didn’t rush it, even after you stayed up all night chatting. Now you look forward to each and every kiss.
He could have any girl on campus and he’s desperate for me.
“One,” you agreed, capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss.
Bucky returned it with fervor and you were helpless to do anything but get swept away. His lips molded against yours perfectly and you practically crawled into his lap as he deepened the kiss, studying long forgotten at that point. It was a feat you lasted as long as you did without throwing yourself at him.
This is definitely going to be more than one kiss if we don't stop.
“Back to studying?” you asked breathlessly.
“Only if I get to kiss you again when we’re done,” he smiled.
“Are my kisses that great, Titan?” you asked, running a finger along his sharp jawline.
Maybe you weren't playing fair by using his nickname, which he loved hearing from you, but he started it by suggesting a fake study session just to get a kiss from you and using your nickname first.
Instead of a smug smirk when Bucky pulled back, his cheeks flushed slightly as he regarded you with an easy smile. “If you knew what it was like to kiss you, you’d never wanna stop,” he answered, making your heart thud in your chest as he pulled you closer by the hips.
A knock on the door broke you temporarily from your spell, but you stayed close in Bucky’s lap.
“Hey!” your roommate said through the door. “Are you two decent? I need to grab something real quick.”
Great timing.
“Unfortunately, we are,” you teased, pressing your forehead against Bucky’s as she put her key in the door. "Now we have to study."
“Don't mind me! Not looking!” your roommate announced, rummaging through her closet until she found what she needed. “Use protection! Don’t need you knocking her up!”
Bucky laughed when you groaned, both of you used to her antics. “How about we study in my room next time?” he offered.
“Deal," you agreed, sneaking in one more quick kiss.
Although you had a feeling you wouldn’t get much studying done at his place either, you didn't mind one bit.
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Another couple for me to adore. Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi
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violetasteracademic · 4 months
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On Being a Published Writer: Without a Degree
This is a bit of a vulnerable share today, and I am writing it after a sleepless night, the monster of anxiety and shame weighing heavily on my chest. However, I have come far in life and undergone an incredible amount of healing, and refuse to be ashamed of my past. I hope sharing this can help even one person like me remember that when it comes to craft, when it comes to art, the only thing stopping you from being worthy is you.
This year, I became a published writer. After years of hard work and dedication to my craft, I finally felt good enough to begin submitting my work to literary magazines. I'm proud of that accomplishment. It's a little tag I get to add to my bio now as I submit work that helps make me feel *valid.* But that quickly, all it takes is for someone to remind me that I did not have access to a degree, that I did not learn from the best, and I will spend the rest of my life without a formal education behind my writing, and they achieve the goal they set out: to make me feel less than for not having their background.
In America, the education system is for profit and public school system inconsistent. There are many factors that can contribute to whether or not a person gets through it successfully, and it often has little to do with intelligence, work ethic, or strength of character and drive before the age of 18.
So here is my story:
I graduated high school with a 2.1 GPA.
My first hospitalization (out of the 17 I would have in my life) for edometriomas happened at age 15. I spent the majority of high school struggling with chronic pain, stage four endometriosis and the accompanying endometriomas cysts, and illness. By age 16, social services was threatened by my school to be called on my home for suspected neglect and abuse. I moved out of my house that year, and was given temporary guardianship by a friends family.
By the end of my senior year, I continued to bounce around between friends houses, sometimes sleeping in my car, and struggled to keep on top of my coursework. I was enrolled in the work study program designed for students who had to keep a job during their high school years, and earned school credits for staying employed.
Despite all of this, I still maintained high grades in Advance Placement literature and language, proceeded to get 5's on my AP tests (a perfect score, and a rare accomplishment) as well as near perfect scores on my ACT's. I spent every spare second reading and writing from the moment I learned how. My intelligence and comprehension were not the issue. My health and my home life were.
The only reason I got into college at all was because I decided to audition for a school play freshman year. Much to my surprise, I was cast in the lead role, and thus the course of my life was set. I poured everything I had into acting, I finally had a purpose and something to keep me out of having to go home after school. Still, applying for colleges was one of the most stressful and shame inducing experiences of my life. I got into many top performance programs in the country, then would not get into the university itself with my GPA. The conservatories that did not look into school performance did not provide the financial assistance required for me to attend.
There was one university that offered limited talent admissions that would allow the university admission requirements to be overlooked for students that had displayed exceptional talent in their specialized field of study. I had to put together a request for the school board, complete with letters from my high school teachers providing context for my low GPA paired with high test scores, character assessments on my likely ability to maintain the minimum required GPA in college, as well as a letter from the head of the performing arts department of the university stating that I was worthy of this talent exception. The wait was unbearable. But I was accepted. And I was approved for the work study program that allowed me to gain employment at the university to help offset the cost.
I felt like my whole life had changed in college. I had gotten in. I had gotten out. I was a new person, no one knowing about my past or the stain of my struggles. I had a fresh start. While I continued to battle my illness throughout college, it was manageable with a consistent bed to sleep in every night, as well as access to physical and mental health services. And although I tested out of being required to take any English classes with AP, I still filled my elective credits with writing classes. Screenwriting, playwriting, poetry, creative writing. Performing became my work, and writing became my joy. I took every class that sounded remotely interesting, often filling my schedule more than required on top of my work and performance load.
I am withholding some of the more personal details of my life, but when I finally moved out to LA, I hit the ground running. I accomplished more in a few years than fellow artists and performers who had been out there for more than a decade. And I valued every person I met. I was in small, independent theatre shows with Juliard grads. I was on professional sets with wildly naturally talented people working to get their GED with no formal education but that undeniable *it* factor. People from all walks of life set out for the Angel City to make it, and I was one of them. I also began writing again, this time short films and audition monologues. I began writing pieces for friends and classmates at their request. I secured my first talent agent with a performance piece that I wrote, along with an offer to renegotiate my contract to include literary representation should I complete a script worth shopping. I began to organize applications for writing fellowships at top studios, when my condition became so severe the only option to move forward with my life was surgery. And then my life completely changed again.
I came out of that surgery with nerve damage that left me unable to walk for six months, as well as developed a new permanent nervous system disorder.
My career and my life never recovered. I was permanently changed. However, during that time, I turned one of my sci-fi short films I had written into a 160k word novel, with outlines for a trilogy. While it was one of the darkest times of my life, writing got me through it. I moved out of Los Angeles to a more affordable city and threw myself into writing. I learned that ivy league schools like Stanford, Harvard, and Yale shared their syllabi for continued study coursework online, including the required textbooks for the courses. Example here. I took myself through the textbooks and coursework of top schools, I took every local workshop possible when it was in budget. Any education on craft that was within my means, I reached for.
I will never be able to change the course of my life. I will likely never be able to go back to school. However, this amazing video by Bandon Sanderson helped me overcome my shame, my lack of access to returning to higher education when my life and career were irrevocably changed: Be Anything But an English Major
I had already done what he had encouraged, pick a subject I was passionate about, fill my college coursework with things I found interesting, and let it inform my writing. While this is not to disrespect or degrade English majors or say successful authors think the degree is worthless, I am simply sharing to say this video helped ME combat against English majors who made me feel worthless for not having access to their diploma.
So to anyone feeling insecure today, you do not need a degree in the arts. Whether you want to be an author, an actor, a painter, a fashion designer, a poet. And I say this as someone whose greatest privilege and joy in life was getting a performing arts degree.
We must continue to prioritize art being accessible, value diverse backgrounds, and wish for it to be open and available to all. We must continue to treat art as subjective, and reject ideals that learning from a certain set of paid individuals makes all other opinions, choices, or ideas invalid.
There is no dollar amount I could give to a piece of paper that would make my mind, my intelligence, and my ability to organize and understand words in an impactful way that would make me more valid than I am today. There is no degree that could replace my work ethic, my empathy, my desire to write stories to do good. To give something to the world and help people survive in the ways that I had needed to survive.
Maybe I'll tell this story again one day, and it will help another young person with my background believe there may be more in life than the cards they were dealt. Maybe this will be the first and last time sharing these words. Maybe I'll never get another piece published, but will continue to write fanfic and poetry and prose pieces to share on the internet for free because I believe in my heart it is valuable. To look at myself, and my work, and deem myself worthy of my efforts and passion.
I am proud to be a member of the community of published writers without a degree.
I am even more proud to be a member of online fandoms full of writers, artists, creators, contributors and more who give their free time and energy towards something that does nothing more than make others happy.
So,
to the people who look at the stars and wish.
to the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered,
this one is for you.
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dear-ao3 · 1 year
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I’m currently a student a local community college, and am transferring to big university in Fall of 2024.
(Idk if this is something you can speak on so no pressure if you don’t know) Are the academics at community colleges usually about the same as big universities? Right now I’m sitting pretty at a 4.0 in my first year at community college and the university I’m looking into has really nice income based and merit scholarships, and I’m just wondering how realistic is it to keep up 4.0 grades to keep those scholarships.
Also, do upperclassmen usually live off campus? For some reason I’m getting that vibe and I’m worried that since I’ll be transferring in as junior I’ll stick out like a sore thumb if I decide to live on campus (which sounds kind of nice because I’ve never lived away from my parents before and I feel like they have pretty decent help and resources for those living on campus, and I think my FASFA will take me farther living on campus).
Also, is living on campus worth it?
so i went to a super tiny college where we had to live there all 4 years but generally if they aren’t guaranteeing you housing all 4 years a lot of upper class men will live off campus. if you are going to a larger school tho no one will notice you basically so you won’t stick out. smaller schools people know eachother more, but i wouldn’t say that you’ll stick out.
i also was a resident assistant so i didn’t have a normal living on campus experience but it was fun. i was with all my friends. didn’t have to worry about transportation too much. our dorms didn’t suck. but it’s a personal thing and probably also worth pricing out how much an apartment would be then comparing it to a room and meal plan cause a lot of the time they’re pretty similar / off campus living in an apartment is more.
academics depends on the school and your major. i’m probably the wrong person to ask tho cause i’ve always been able to do good in school with relatively little effort. i also never tried to maintain a certain gpa (as in, i didn’t stress myself out trying to get a 4.0, i still wanted to have some fun. i ended with a 3.87 and it was pretty much that the whole time i was in college)
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ros3ybabe · 6 months
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Accountability Buddy Search!
I am currently on the search for an accountability buddy! Someone I can use to keep me on track with my academic goals, life admin goals, language study goals, and whatever specific things I'd want to accomplish! I also would love to help someone else stay accountable with their academic/language/life admin goals!
editing to add: I have found my accountability buddies!!! Thank you to everyone who reached out to me, and I look forward to working with my new accountability buddies! I recommend for everyone who thinks it to be useful to do do themselves, because I can already feel how good this is going to be for me, and hopefully for them too!
Here are some of my goals:
regularly studying spanish/Japanese
regularly completing homework on time
regularly studying for/preparing for exams/quizzes
sticking to my routines consistently
maintaining a healthy, productive balance between school-work-life
regularly meeting my personal goals (reading, joirnaling, working out, etc)
Here are some things about me:
I am a 21 year old female
I am a junior in university, but 2nd year of studying my major
My major is Human Nutrition/Dietetics, and I am also minoring in Psychology and Exercise Science
My current courses I'm trying to stay on top of are General Chemistry II, Emotions (psychology), and Medical Terminology
I want to begin regularly studying Japanese and Spanish again
I want to begin reading, journaling, and sticking to consistent routines as well as keep academically inclined.
My Preferences in Accountability Buddy:
Female, 19-24 years of age (no minors or males, please.)
preferably in college/university, but it also doesn't matter if you independently study languages
also has some academic/productive oriented goals, or just goals that you'd like to be kept accountable on
has a not super personal way of contact for the accountability check ins (GroupMe, Discord, and eventually maybe a way to video call once we get more comfortable with each other, but of course, safety first! and tumblr inbox works too, but I feel discord or groupme might be a little easier long term)
hopefully willing to stay accountability buddies for a decent amount of time (maybe til end of my semester? mid may?)
willing to lay out or goals, accountability check in schedule, and open to communication with respect to each of our time zones/schedules/commitments, etc
conversationaly fluent/fluent in English or English first language at the least. It's the only language I currently speak so it would be easier to work with someone that speaks the same language
If anyone is interested in having/being an accountability buddy, please send me an ask or message me! Please be respectful of my preferences tho, I really do want to be safe with something like this because with the internet, you never know. I look forward to possibly meeting/working with/becoming acquaintances with you guys!!
ps. please don't be put off by the aesthetics of my blog, I can assure you all, I am a typical, 21 year old college student who works an on campus job, struggles with sleep and caffiene, and is constantly staying on top of my grades and classes while also worrying if I'm doing enough to keep my GPA at a good spot. this blogs aesthetics are purely for fun and artistic expression. If I wasn't such an aesthetic-loving person, I'd post my own study type photos but I'd feel so less-than if I posted like, a non cohesive plethora of photos I take. I'm not good at taking photos
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I came into Art School thinking that it’d be a walk in the park. I mean, I’ve been making art my entire life — painting, sculpting, printmaking, and working with wood for as long as I can remember. Not to brag… but, I’ve won so many awards for my work, my parents had to buy an entire storage unit for me, just to have somewhere to store all of my accolades. I’ve even been recognized on a national level for some of my pieces. The things that many of my peers are only now learning how to do in college, I’ve been doing as mere hobbies for most of my life… and, I’d like to think that I’ve mastered them… so, it was only natural for me to come into my first year of university operating under such an ignorant assumption.
When it comes to school, I usually don’t have a hard time being successful. My academic records and transcripts speak for themselves. In all my years of education, I’ve never gotten a grade lower than a B, not even once, and I’ve been a Top Scholar since second grade. I’m good at juggling my responsibilities — making ample time for studying, doing and turning in my homework assignments earlier than I need to, acing every test, and racking up the hours of extracurricular activities — but, this semester, I’m having some trouble focusing in my Art History class… just the one class… and it’s not for any reasons that you may be thinking.
See… I have this professor — Professor Pascal — who teaches my Art History course… and when the year began, he was already about six months pregnant. I’m talking belly popping out underneath his shirt, outie navel as big as a doorknob, chest all puffy and leaky, feet so swollen that he can only wear Crocs and open-toed shoes in class, constantly moody and complaining about his body aches, binge eating in class, and too foggy-headed to maintain a straight line of thought pregnant. Like… pregnant, pregnant. Extremely pregnant. The man is at least forty-five years old… which is concerning on its own… and he’s as big as a house.
To make matters worse, he always wears clothes that he bought before he got knocked up — before he started to gain weight, and his belly began to swell — and they’re so obiously tiny and uncomfortable. Sweaters that are meant to be loose, stretched past their limits and tucked into his pants, to cover his massive stomach. Button-downs that pop open several times during lectures, exposing his hairy, bloated torso to hundreds of students at once. Suit jackets that don’t accommodate for the extra weight that he may have gained. Khakis that hug him so tight that they look like a second layer of skin. Underwear that peeks over the waistband of his bottoms, rides up his butt crack, and shows off a visible outline of his engorged genitals.
He so pregnant that it’s honestly hard to ignore. You know how, usually, when someone’s expecting, you can just acknowledge it and move on… most times, without things being weird or awkward? Well… it’s not like that with Professor Pascal. Not for me, at least. I just can’t stop staring at his belly in class… thinking about it. It takes up so much space in my mind, I think it may be making me… dumb.
No matter what the subject of his lectures are, what assignments he may have us doing for the week, or how many pages of notes that I take, I can’t stop gawking at it… curious. It’s like, I can’t see anything else, or hear anything. The huge whiteboard and padded, sound-reflective walls behind him fade into a plain, flat backdrop… and his words slowly turn to gibberish. I get tunnel vision… stop taking notes, and everything. I can’t retain any information… and then I have to cheat on my homework, my quiz grades drop… then my test scores, and then, my GPA. It’s a slippery slope.
I’ve never, not once in my life, had an overall letter grade lower than a B… but, in Professor Pascal’s Art History course, I’m going through the semester with a C+.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me… or what I can do to improve my grade. He doesn’t offer extra credit, or accept late work. He says that his class is “too easy for anyone to fall that far behind”… and yet, here I am, with a C+.
It’s just… when I’m sitting in that lecture hall — in the very first row of seats — that tunnel vision sets in, and I start to daydream. I… I fantasize about him coming down from his low-rise stage and walking up to me. He picks me, out of a crowd of nearly three hundred people, even though my hand isn’t raised, and presents me with a question regarding the curriculum… something that I’m supposed to know the answer to. Of course, I fumble the response… and, as he’s standing in front of me, waiting impatiently for me to come up with even a single sentence that makes sense, his button-down shirt bursts open, and his beautiful belly spills out, hitting my face like a fuzzy airbag. Next thing you know, I’ve lost control of my tongue, and I’m slurping at his navel as though a life-giving nectar is going to leak out of it… or something like that… in front of everyone — just making a sloppy mess of saliva on my professor’s pregnant belly.
It’s sick… I know. Maybe I’m disturbed, or there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I’m a freak… but I just can’t control it. The fantasy is too good. All I know is that, for the first time in my entire academic career, I’m falling behind… and, the worst part about it is that I can’t pin the blame on Mr.Pascal for being a shitty professor, or make the claim that he’s harboring some deep-seeded hatred for me. My poor grade is all my fault… and I have to live with that.
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polisphere-high · 3 months
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Gregory Introduction: @theoneandonlydio / @driedseagrass
Greetings!
To whom it may concern, I am Gregory Bellarose. Back when I was a young boy, I had attended Yardale [Where I maintained a 4.0 grade point average of course]. That was until I had transferred to that elementary school in South Park, Colorado. I must admit, this town is peculiar to say the least. It also isn't very much to my liking either.
Despite it all I've met many people. Some pleasant meetings, others not so much. I'm well-acquainted with Estella Havisham. Though she has a rather interesting personality, we get along very well! Another dear friend of mine is Christophe Delorne, or as he prefers to be called, "The Mole". I'm deeply grateful to have befriended him.
I would like to go to college after high school. At least somewhere that is far from South Park. Once I am able to, I will leave this town nor do I plan to return to it. I hope to have a good career after graduating from said college and earning a bachelor's degree. Though only time and effort can tell what truly happens in my life, right?
Age: 17
Voiceclaim: Noel Gruber (Ride the Cyclone)
GPA: 4.3
Family: Mrs. Bellarose, Mr. Bellarose (?)
Club: Drama
Weight: 125 pounds
Height: 5'10
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djchik · 3 months
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FINALLY MY TRUE YUUSONA !!! (Only sketch for now until I get my stuff together)
after 3-4 years I finally make one that mirrors me !!! (Pushes the 5 Yuusonas I made in the past four years into a closet)
!!!!!!
Meet DJ-Yuu !!!! Not her real name obviously but you only get one shot at a new life so why not make the most of it and make a silly name :p
More info on her bellow if anyone interested
Dj-Yuu is 17. She is 173cm tall (about 5’6.9)
Her homeland in earth is Palestine and Puerto Rico. She’s not half half, more of 3/4 Palestinian and 1/4 Puerto Rican. She knows a little Spanish but is well known with Arabic since that’s her mothers tongue (Spanish was her fathers language)
Birthday June 1st
When she got transported to twst she was on her way to her general Chem lecture class in college. She was walking from the college library to her class when she got…well…sent to nrc from the carriage.
Wait how is she taking college classes while 17? Well in the US they let high schoolers (sometimes middle schoolers) take college classes for free while still taking highschool classes. It’s a real juggling struggle between hs and college but dj-Yuu managed. She started taking college classes when she was 15 so for two almost three years, she got all the credits she needed and was going to graduate with her associates degree! One semester left of college then wohooo!!! Graduating with a degree before graduating from highschool!!
And yay!! One last year of highschool. Senior time and privileges let’s gooo!!! Finally Jean fridays and senior parking!!
But aw shucks. Twst world here she goes.
When she realized she has to redo all these classes again and has to be a freshman all over again she was like “aw shucks. Bruhhhh”
Then she just accepted fate cause at least she gets a redo over and this time she can put more effort in maintaining her gpa as a 4.0
She does have a bad habit of bawling her eyes out when confronted but that usually happens if she gets confronted after weeks of bottling up her feelings and problems.
Sometimes she even lashes out with lots of attitude at the wrong person/level she didn’t need to be at.
She feels guilty and apologizes while giving a homemade a gift for forgiveness.
Dj-Yuu also has bad attachment issues. The first night at ramshackle she cried because she realized she can’t live independently and that she misses her parents.
She’s just a mama and babas girl 🥲👍
Missing her parents and siblings and some family members.
She almost cried in heartslyabul (the part when Trey was showing off his unique magic) she asked if it would work with wanting foods tasting like someone’s cooking. She was going to cry while asking the question but held it in. He it caught off guard by that question but when he hit her with “pardon?” She says nevermind and chocked back her tears cause it was foolish of her to ask.
She had some moments here and there where she almost cried but held it in.
She kept it so the only one who saw and heard her cry was Grim and the ghosts of Ramshackle from her first night after the ceremony.
But then this changed when she cried infront of Kalim and Jamil at scarabia chapter. Her tasting Jamils cooking tasted similar almost replica of her mothers cookie. The fact that it was a middle eastern food made it worse for her trying to hold her emotions back. The reason is because
Jamils cooking = land of hot sands food = middle eastern food = homeland/country food = mamas cooking = miss mama and home country.
So she started crying (didn’t make much noises but she kept stuffing her mouth ) trying to feel better and finish the food quickly so she can excuse herself to the restroom.
When Jamil and Kalim told her she can eat more, they knew she felt really homesick especially when it was winterbreak and she saw everyone going home to their families.
After that day and jamils overblot, they told her that she can visit them and eat their food whenever she wants.
That’s why I’m pomefiore chapter, when Jamil made knefa, she was so excited to eat it but when Vil took it away she got so sad but Jamil reassured her. Telling her that he can give her some the next day during lunch.
DEPRESSING STUFF ASIDE AKDNDKDNDJD
She carries around a skeleton hand with her. As a Muslima, she can’t touch boys or men with Grim and the ghosts and school nurse being an exception. But being in nrc, an all boys school has her in a “bruh, even shaytan is confused” mood (guys I’m joking to hit me for this comment 🙏)So she uses the skeleton hand to sometimes hit Ace or Deuce playfully or if they wanted to lead her somewhere, they can use that as a pretend of her hand.
(help she found the hand in one of the ramshackle rooms is it real? Maybe)
She also sometimes ties a cloth around her wrist and one of the twst boys wrist incase she doesn’t have her skeletons hand with her. (If they wanted to lead her somewhere or something. Idk. She finds a way to not touch them on accident. Can’t anger Allah :(
That’s why during the Vdc camping she was like “wtf Crowley????” 💀 but powered through with it. The ghost of ramshackle and grim were guards when she needed to shower or change etc 😤
Whenever she wants to hand something to someone, she always holds the item by the edge to prevent touching their hands on accident. Or if the time is small, she would drop it into their hands. (I can draw this if anyone is confused about it^^ I tend to do this a lot too at my school when I can’t hand it to a girl to hand to the boy who the thing is supposed to go to ) :p
I think that’s all skdnsjdnsjd when I do her red properly I’ll reblog this post with it :D
Feel free to send an inbox for an questions or clarifactions!!! (Plsssss my inbox is collecting cobwebs rn)
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andr0medafallen · 2 years
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Baby, It's Halloween.
A/N: Made with the help of @foxilayde and with @alwritey-aphrodite 's marvelous taste in music in mind. I love you guys!!!!
Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader
Warnings: P in V, porn with plot, unprotected sex, descriptions of Jonathan carrying reader, I mean reader fucks her Professor, so., you can let me know if there is anything else, not beta read
Description: You hadn't been planning on fucking your professor. You really hadn't; sometimes those things just happen. You also hadn't been planning on him crying in your arms, but those things also sometimes happen.
Word Count: 3.1k
Additional note: if you like Jonathan Levy and also sex, read Danny's Putz and the Perv fic. If she is at all more mentally sane than me, she probably wasn't projecting onto one of the references on her resume while writing it.
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Why is it that Universities never give days off for Halloween? You get Thanksgiving and  fucking Presidents' day, but not Halloween? As if that weren’t bad enough, of course it lands on a Monday this year. Your busiest, boringest day of the week; Only made up for in part by Professor Levy’s class at 12:45, to which he always shows up just disheveled enough to look class time appropriate and hot.
This strays drastically from the point, though, which is this: Halloween is on a Monday this year, Halloween is a much better holiday than Thanksgiving, and you need to maintain a professional GPA if you want to keep the fantastic lineup of Pell Grants and scholarships sitting in your Financial Aid portal. It was the accumulation of all of these fascinating tidbits of information that led to you showing up to every one of your scheduled classes in a thrift-store Indiana Jones cosplay which you and your roommates had drunkenly put together Friday night.
Despite the fact that it had been made by a gaggle of drunk college students, the costume stood strong through the test of soberness. The playfully ripped up khakis, the leather fedora that for some reason you already had lying around, the linen shirt with one too many buttons undone, and the makeuped on grime all shouted “yeah dude, it’s halloween, fucking fight me about it”, but in a fun, kind of hot way. This was an opinion you had Friday night while making the damned thing, and your confidence certainly wasn’t dimmed after sitting through your first couple of compliment filled classes.
Still, sitting through your Anthropology class–the very 12:45 lecture previously mentioned, had proven to be…not as you had expected. You had still received the “bro, you look so good”’s and “Oh my god, that’s great, I should have dressed up”’s from your friends and acquaintances in the class, but you also noticed that about every 7 minutes, Professor Levy would pause his lecture on the progression of agriculture through the anthropocene to look at you. Part of you felt like you were going crazy, because no one else seemed to notice, but what you could have written off the first time kept. fucking. happening.
At first you thought that your Professor had somehow figured out that you’d been switching tabs between your notes and the videos of your friend’s cat which she had sent you, but the glances kept happening long after you’d closed the kitten tab as discreetly and quickly as possible.
Despite your urge to uncomfortably wriggle in your seat, you were still able to pay some modicum of attention, occasionally jotting down fragmented notes of “adapted land to their needs” and “Europeans destroyed ecology and then were confused when other people didn’t cuz british ppl are stupid”. You even managed to get a head start on the homework. That is to say, you got a head start on finding out the link to the homework template was broken. Either way, though, keeping busy kept your mind from jumping to conclusions about the glances.
You breathed a sigh of relief when Professor Levy finally said, “Alright, that's all for today. We don’t have class until Wednesday, but don’t party too hard.”
The class broke into chatter, jokes about “Grandpa Levy” telling you all “not to party too hard” and idle conversation about various forms of debauchery going on that night tossed around.
You turned as Marissa, the girl who sat next to you poked you and asked, “Are you going to the library today?”
You hummed, distracted. “Maybe. Don’t wait up. And don’t study too hard.” You winked with a grin as she rolled her eyes at you playfully and left the classrooms dusty walls and creaky seats, before walking up to Professor Levy’s desk. You waited patiently for the go-getters and teachers' pets to ask their questions and take their leave before gently clearing your throat behind him.
Professor Levy spun, eyes wide when he saw you there. You had never noticed the dark circles beneath them, how they so perfectly seemed to frame his face in a way that you didn’t know was possible.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. The link for the homework is broken.” You trailed your finger along his desk, a fidgeting motion masked through the confidence of the archeologist you were imitating. It was coated in an endearing layer of dust that you had found was a common fixture of the anthropology wing, and it held Professor Levy’s school-issued laptop and an Oliver Sacks book–The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.
Professor Levy’s brow furrowed, eye line slipping to where your finger met his table before snapping back to meet your own gaze. Apparently he believed you to be much less observant than you are, or maybe he simply can’t help himself, because his eyes roamed away from your face once more, this time to the top button of your linen shirt, the lapse of fabric where the valley of your breasts met.
Gaze snapping up again, Levy informed you, “There is no homework for Wednesday. The module likely transferred over from last semester, but I’ll make sure to fix that. Have a happy Halloween.”
You didn’t know how he did it. The man was so easily flustered, yet he spoke to you like nothing at all had transpired. It almost made you want to laugh, how this man was so clearly looking at your breasts just seconds before, and decided to just play it off as if you wouldn’t have noticed. All it took to get him blushing during lectures was teasing him for the music he played before class, but now here he was, calmly explaining that the homework assignment was canceled so you could get debauched, after so obviously staring at your breasts, and nothing?
“...okay,” you conceded, wiping the dust from your hand onto your pants before looping your thumbs in your belt loops. “Thanks.”
He resumed packing his things into his canvas bag, likely assuming that you would leave. You thought about doing just that, but– “Professor?”
Levy’s head tilted back towards you in surprise. You weren’t sure by his expression whether you’d exceeded his expectations or overwhelmed them. Either way, you continued the originally poorly planned message with, “Indiana Jones fan?”
Professor Levy’s eyes seemed to bug out from your discreet tease before he regained his own composure.
“I can’t say that the trilogy is the most accurate representation of Archeology as a study, but yeah, it’s a… pretty good film.”
You snickered, turning on a booted heel. “Happy Halloween, Professor Levy,” you called as you walked out of the lecture hall through the wooden door. There was something charming about how Professor Levy seemed to think that you hadn’t noticed the noticeably hard wood that was currently pushing against the confines of his pants.
***
You knocked on his door that night at 8 pm. Well, not his door, you weren’t some creepy stalker, but his office door. It’s not like you had been looking for him or anything, but you always cut through the anthro building to get back to your apartment when it was cold, and it was always less crowded if you went through the office area instead of the lecture hallways, and it wasn’t like you had meant to notice that his light was still on and didn’t show any signs of turning off.
So yeah, you reformed all of your Halloween plans on the way to the house party that you were actually supposed to be going to because your professor who clearly had the hots for you had to be pathetically sad to be grading papers at 8 pm on Halloween, even if it was a Monday.
When he opened the door he fit the exact image which had formulated in your mind; button-up opened a few buttons revealing a white undershirt (granted, in your head the undershirt was replaced with a glimpse of bare chest), hair messed up in a cute, disgruntled way, and papers covering his desk, not an inch of empty space.
“Trick or treat,” you playfully quipped, smirking at him from where you leaned in the doorway. After you had finished all of your classes for the day, you had opened your shirt a couple of extra buttons, exposing your black lacy bra underneath; This was something that Professor Levy clearly noticed, his eyes lingering on your chest (again) as he looked you up and down. He seemed less ashamed of it this time around. Maybe it was because he was tired, or the two of you weren’t in the middle of a lecture hall. Maybe he had finally noticed how you wanted him back.
“You don’t seem to care very much about professionalism in school environments,” Professor Levy noticed.
You shrugged. “Dress codes are for High Schools and Mormons. C’mon, stop moping, it’s Halloween–”
Before you had the chance to finish your offer, Levy cut you off with, “Who says I’m moping?”
You scoffed. “Either you’re sad or you’re boring. Anyways, as I was saying, I have blood,” you joked, pulling out a bottle of cheap wine from your satchel, “and candy, and by all means, you can stay here and be boring, or you can hang out with me so that I don’t have to be near drunk frat boys. By all means, your choice, Professor Levy, but I do hope you’ll take pity on me.”
He seemed to be weighing his options, staring at you as he decided. You smiled back at him, with only a hint of snark. “It’s a bad idea,” he said, but he seemed resigned; You knew that it wouldn’t take much more pushing to get him to cave.
“Perfect. Your place or mine? Mine is probably filled with drunk college students dressed like slutty vampires, but I’m flexible,” you joked.
Professor Levy sighed, brow furrowed. “Come on, I’m parked in Lot F.” He picked up his bag, tossing in the random knick knacks which he decided he needed, but leaving the papers. You tried to stay calm, but internally you were smiling, giggling, and punching the air. You had managed to get your hot professor to take you home on Halloween. How the fuck did you manage to get your hot professor to take you home on Halloween?
You followed him to his car, a grey prius, doing your best to keep up that suave facade that you had spent at least two years perfecting. It was a quiet walk. You weren’t sure if you should be filling the silence; It wasn’t even a particularly comfortable silence, both of you so stuck in your own thoughts. Once in the car, though, Levy turned the radio on to a soul station, which made you smile.
“Otis Redding? Not Spooky Scary Skeletons?” You teased, looking over the center console at your Professor.
“I don’t think it was me who wrote my Midterm paper on the influence of soul on the Modern Era.”
“Oh God, I think if I start thinking about school right now I’ll have a stress migraine.”
Levy chuckled. “It was the best paper I read.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah? is that why you looked so depressed when you opened the door, Professor Levy?”
Instead of answering, he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful culdesac suburban home that made you wonder if you really knew anything about him at all. He got out of the car, and for a moment you were worried that you had offended him, but he circled around the front of the car, opening the door for you.
He leaned in close–close enough for you to smell his cologne, the spice and leather mixing with his natural scent–and told you, “If you’re a guest in my house and I’m going to be drinking your five dollar wine, you should really call me Jonathan, Dr. Jones.”
You grinned, taking his offered hand as he led you through his door and into the house. You set your bag on the mahogany table and wandered into the kitchen.
“Wine glasses?” You asked.
“Lost all the wine glasses in the divorce,” Jonathan joked. You glanced at him, eyebrows scrunched.
“What cruel and unusual punishment,” you quipped, turning back to the cabinet above you. You never realized how little you knew about the man. He wasn’t the type to mention anything about his personal life during his lectures, and you’d never asked. You guessed that there was a lot that he didn’t know about you, too. “Luckily for you, I prefer my five dollar wine in mugs. Do you want…” You looked at the mugs you had grabbed. “Snoopy or Hello Kitty? Quite refined taste, Jonathan.”
“Definitely Hello Kitty.” Jonathan walked further into the room, leaning on the island next to where you poured the wine. “My daughter, she’s in charge of most of the mug selection around here.”
“She at her mom’s?” You asked, handing Jonathan the glass.
“You know, you’re not as subtle as you think,” Jonathan responded, tilting his glass towards you before taking a sip.
“I’m not trying to be subtle,” you remarked, sipping your own alcohol.
“What is it you’re playing at, then?” He seemed different in his own house; More confident. No longer quietly trudging about the day, but questioning your own crumbling authority.
“I’m not playing at anything, Professor Levy. Just playing.”
You paused when you felt his hand close around your wrist. It was big and warm, sending sparks of a thrilling heat down your back. “I thought I told you to call me Jonathan.”
“Just playing then, Jonathan,” you breathed. He’d been leaning closer and you hadn’t even noticed. Not until now, when your faces were mere inches apart.
“This is highly unprofessional.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, and failing.
“Live a little, Levy.” When he finally kissed you (your endgame the entire night, which would have seemed ridiculous and unachievable just last week) it was hard, and just rough enough, hands running along your ribcage as he pinned you against the kitchen island with his hips. When you broke away for air, he didn’t stop, mouth trailing down to your neck to suck bruises and nip at the skin there while his hands worked on opening what few buttons had still been left done on your blouse.
You started fumbling with the buttons of Jonathan’s dark red button up, gasping as he suckled into your skin. You managed to get it off, tossing it took the floor, and groaned when you saw the little patch of hair, leading down below Jonathan’s waistline.
He dragged your trousers along your thighs and onto the floor, fingers hooking your panties along with, before lifting you by your waist onto the counter. The cool stone of Jonathan’s countertop sent shivers down your spine, but that was soon countered by a lustful heat when his thick fingers found their way between your folds. They were teasing, playing you like a meandering harmony as you buried your face into Jonathan’s shoulder, his soft curls brushing your cheek and his scent overpowering your senses. Your pussy clenched around his index finger when he inserted it in, and you were half tempted to beg him for more.
Instead, you lifted your head from Jonathan’s shoulder, looking at him with lidded eyes as his finger pumped inside you. He chose this moment to add a second, just so that he could see the look on your face as he did it, breath catching and eyes rolling back.
When you managed to regain composure, you asked, “We gonna fuck on this counter, or…”
“No,” Jonathan removed his fingers from inside you so he could grab you by the hips and lift you up, leveraging your body against his with your legs wrapped around his back, “We’re gonna fuck on the couch.”
You giggled a little, licking and biting at his exposed neck as he walked the two of you to his living room couch, careful not to lose balance or drop you. He laid you down beneath him, eyes appreciating your form as his hands gently unclipped your lace bra, dragging it off so he could feel your soft skin. You leaned up as he worked at your breasts, hands working at his belt, followed by his button, followed by zipper. You smiled when your hand finally met Jonathan’s dick and he gasped, burying his face into your shoulder.
Both of you worked in silence, entangled and connected by lips and hands and warmth. You were kissing, tongue in Jonathan’s mouth as he lined himself up with your entrance. You could feel warmth building inside you, as his head brushed the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and his calloused fingers worked at your clit. There was the familiar feeling pulling at you, tugging at your core, of lust and release, but there was something else–something less familiar–there as well. Something tense but emotional. Unexpected and painful and beautiful and incohesive in every sense of the word. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it though, breath mixing with Jonathan’s with your bodies connected in every sense of the word.
You could feel that spring that’s coiled within you snap as Jonathan’s thrusts reach a messy and passionate peak. The noise Jonathan made as he met his own release was almost a growl, and you were half tempted to laugh as you came down from your high. You didn’t, though.
The air was tense with something you didn’t quite understand until you saw Jonathan’s face. His eyes were just slightly red when he pulled out of you, your own reflection clear on the glassy surface, betraying emotions that you knew all too well; loneliness, confusion, shame. He seemed awkward and unsure, but you pulled him down on the couch, cramped for space and practically laying on top of you.
You carded your hands through his hair in what you hoped was a soothing gesture. “Hey, It’s okay, Jonathan. It’s gonna be okay.” 
You didn’t know his problems—you weren’t even sure you wanted to know—but the two of you laid there, bodies connected, and it didn’t really matter. Everyone has problems. You have problems, Jonathan clearly has problems, and those problems definitely aren’t your problems to fix. But it was nice, laying on his sofa, and touching his soft curls, and knowing that for this moment in time, these few hours, neither of you need to feel so lonely. 
Yeah, it’ll be okay.
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lovelyhan · 1 year
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— meet cute of the century (a teaser) ⟢
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest, clumsiest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
★ FEATURING; wonwoo x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 1.7k words
★ TAGS; meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, some angst, smut (though this teaser is completely sfw!)
★ TAGS; mentions of accidents but it's not given much detail
★ NOTES; i'm back with my low quality wonwoo bf pics for my teaser headers hehe i am soooo excited to write the rest for this! honestly didn't think the teaser would end up this long but here we are :3c little heads up that some parts of this teaser could change in the full story, but nothing major plot-wise will be taken out. hope you like it!
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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There are a handful of things that a college student can do with their free time. Studying, hanging out with friends, and maybe even picking up a hobby of sorts. You, on the other hand, use up all the hours you’re not spending on your undergrad thesis or sleeping the day away at an animal shelter just a few minutes away from your apartment. 
Your friends constantly wonder how you’re still able to maintain a remarkable GPA with a part-time job that’s starting to look full-time, but you just laugh their questions off for the most part—saying that other people have got it worse than you, but can still perform leagues better academically. 
You also tell them that most of your motivation comes from all the unadopted animals from the shelter. You started as a volunteer just to kill time on weekends when you’re free, but even if you knew better than to get attached to all those adorable faces, you eventually found yourself on the part-time employee roster anyways. 
Now you’re rushing to finish your degree so you can get a neat sugar mommy job that’ll let you afford to adopt everyone that’s been stuck in the shelter for nearly a year or more.
Okay, maybe not everyone because you’re no fool with a savior complex. But just enough to give a few furry friends a new home, right?
“Don’t look now,” your coworker, Mari whispers conspiratorially while you’re in the middle of snacking in the break room, “but that cutie you’ve been crushing on just walked inside. He’s checking out the cats out in the playroom as usual.”
Right. Apart from your altruistic dream of adopting as many animals as your financial capabilities can allow, there’s another reason you’re always looking forward to your shifts at the shelter. A reason that you’re a bit too embarrassed to let your friends know about.
You nearly choke on a potato chip when Mari breaks the news and she immediately laughs in your face. Glaring at her, you compose yourself with a long gulp of water before saying, “I do not have a crush on him.”
“Sure,” she plays along. “If you consider making googly eyes at the guy every time he drops by as ‘not having a crush on him’, then I’ll concur.” 
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t, sweetheart. Now get out there and sweet talk him into take one of the kittens home! Pretty sure he wants one if he’s been showing up as much as he did for the last two months.” 
While you would’ve argued that the so-called cutie you’ve been crushing on could just like seeing the cats play around in his free time, you don’t really have much energy to play mental gymnastics with Mari. You’ve had a long day of revisions and other nonsense materials you have to submit for your majors, so you’ll let this one slide.
Your workplace is as bleak as every other shelter you’ve seen a few times in your life. Gray walls, concrete floors, and steel cages stacked on top of each other. It looks more like a prison than anything, really, but it’s the staff and those kind-hearted souls who rehome animals that have long been abandoned that give the entire place some life.
While Mister Cutie That You’ve Been Quote-Unquote Crushing On doesn’t exactly fall into either of those categories, you like to think he still leaves the building just a touch colorful once he walks out of the front door. 
Speaking of color, he’s wearing a loose, dark green shirt that falls just below his elbows. Cutie—as you’ve deigned to call him not because you think he’s cute but because you’re yet to get his name—has one palm flattened across the viewing glass of the playroom. He’s wearing his usual black face mask today, but from the way his eyes glint behind his glasses, you’re just going to assume he’s having a good time just by watching the cats frolic inside.
“You’re here pretty late,” you state nonchalantly before standing a few feet away from him. 
“Is that so strange?” he murmurs with a chuckle, surprisingly not startled with your sudden entrance before glancing your way. “I always show up here at this hour, don’t I?”
God. No matter how many times you hear his voice, you just can’t get over how deep it is. But before any of your thoughts could show on your face, you get talking.
“True. You’ve sparked a debate among the volunteers about your line of work, actually.” Not exactly. You’re not sure if any of the volunteers have even seen this guy, since they mostly work day shifts. “Anyway, are you just here to check ‘em out or am I finally going to hand you the adoption papers?”
His eyes crinkle a bit before he shifts his gaze towards the playroom again. Most of the older cats have already been put back in their respective cages. All that’s left inside are the kittens with way too much energy to spare. The director, A.K.A., your boss, believes that it’s best to tire them out first before settling them into individual enclosures for the night. Keeps the place nice and quiet for the evening shift fellows like yourself.
“Not yet, sadly,” Cutie says with a sigh before pointing at one of the kittens huddled up in a corner. “That one’s new, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve seen him around before.” 
“Her,” you correct. “Her name’s Hani. She’s a stray that someone from the university I’m attending brought in last week. It was pretty ugly, actually. Poor thing got into an accident and was bleeding everywhere. Good thing our usual vet was paying a visit when they came here.”
“Oh? That’s a relief then. No wonder she’s got a little limp every time she walks around,” he observes with a saddened tone. “But I digress. You mentioned you were attending university?”
…Okay, why’d the topic of interest suddenly shift to you? 
But since it’s a harmless enough question, you reply with, “Yeah. The one that’s just a few blocks away. It’s kinda why the person who found Hani brought her here instead of a vet clinic. The nearest one’s like half an hour away.”
“Good call, good call.” He nods with a look of understanding. “I hope someone comes and adopts her. She deserves all the love she can get. Well, everyone here does of course.” 
You flash him a conniving smile, raising your brows a few times. “You could give that to her.”
Cutie shakes his head with another low-pitched laugh. “As much as I’d love to, my…living conditions won’t be suitable for her at all. Or any of the other animals for the matter.”
“Hm?” You stare at him curiously. “Your landlord doesn’t allow pets or something?”
“Mmm… Not exactly.”
The conversation pretty much ends there. Cutie excuses himself—saying that someone is waiting for him at home. You don’t know why your heart deflates a little at the very real possibility that he has a significant other. Then again, if you’re this whipped when you haven’t even seen his face, you could only imagine how easy it would be for him to settle down with someone who has.
Either way, it’s none of your business. And correction: you’re not whipped. Just…hyper aware of his presence every time he stops by.
Despite the fact that you’re dead-set on filing away this strange fascination you have for the guy, however…
“Wait!”
Cutie turns around to face you with an inquisitive look. “Yes?”
You swallow thickly, deciding to just bite the bullet before your nerves get the best of you. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Cu—I mean, Glasses Guy in my head whenever you pay us a visit.”
He blinks for a few seconds, obviously nonplussed by your forwardness but you don’t think your pride can take it anymore if you had to refer to him as—
“You can call me Woo,” he says warmly and you can almost see the smile that stretches behind that black face mask.
Shit. Did your heart just stutter?
“Mister Woo—”
“Just Woo is fine.”
“Okay, Woo,” you start, kind of liking the way that something that’s obviously a nickname rolls off the tongue, “just let me know if you ever want to take Hani home. We’re open twenty four-seven, as you already know.”
He nods. “Sure thing. Is it okay if I can get your number for that?”
Now you have to fight the urge to scowl at him after he’s been so nice to you all night—and every other night he’s dropped by. 
This guy isn’t flirting with you. He said it himself—someone’s waiting for him at home! Plus, he’s expressed consistent interest in adopting a kitten for himself a handful of times before. Maybe he just connected with Hani on a level that’s above the others. Enough to ask for your number since the possibility of him bringing one of these angels home is becoming more and more real. 
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason!
So you give it to him—hastily scrawled behind an old flier gathering dust in one of the drawers on the front desk. It’s way too big to write just yours and the shelter’s contact details on, but the other calling cards are nowhere in sight. You’ll have to ask Mari if she’s seen them once—
“Thanks. I’ll keep in touch,” Woo tells you while folding the sheet of paper into a sleek black Louis Vuitton wallet.
Wait a minute.
Before you can even seriously ponder about what job he’s got to be able to afford that, Woo is already out of the door—heading into the evening streets without once looking back. 
“Gosh, I swear that guy’s an idol in disguise or something.”
That’s the first thing that Mari tells you when you find her doing a few rounds among the sleeping dogs in the far back. You haven’t even spoken a single word about your most recent exchange. 
“What makes you think that?” 
“He just exudes idol vibes, y’know? Shows up here when the place is deserted. Always acts subtle and inconspicuous. Oh and not to mention how hot he looks even with a face mask on! He could be that one idol your little sister is crazy about.” 
You roll your eyes at her odd ways of deduction. “Mari, I’ve seen enough of Haewon’s Mingyu merch to last a lifetime and Woo definitely does not look like him.”
“Oh?” Your coworker perks up with a mischievous smile. “You finally got his name, huh?”
God. This is going to be a long shift.
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I wish I could understand why it's been so difficult for me to update either blog. Probably just because there's so much going on.
I'm in my 5th week of my first semester of courses - accelerated semesters. At 3 credit hours, I'm considered full-time, and jeezy creezy, it feels like it. Comms and Eco Literacy are the classes, and I feel like I've learned so much in such a short amount of time. The most intimidating thing is learning how to engage research material in an ethical and effective way. Imposter syndrome is going to be very difficult to manage, as is maintaining a high level of personal and academic integrity. I already know I have a tendency to confirm biases, so I need to be prepared to check that regularly. I cheated several times through a college-level course in high school and one of my last-semester course finals in my first go-around in college. Since then, I've learned about how to prevent myself from being in a situation where I might be tempted to cheat in the first place, etc. But I worry about myself. I always will, probably. Probably because I judge myself on a core level about being someone capable of that. That's a whole 'nother discussion.
Aside from the most intimidating thing, the most CHALLENGING thing is maintaining my schedule. Wait, back up, it's actually creating a functional schedule in the first place. A couple of weeks ago, I was 3 days late turning in an assignment because I didn't fully comprehend the timeline or number of submissions an assignment required. 50% deduction. I have precious little room for bullshit mistakes like that on accelerated courses. I'm anxious about this because I was declined funding from the Choctaw nation because in my very last semester at KU (the semester I was spiraling, and, ya know, cheating on exams) I fell below 2.0 gpa (big surprising yeah?). I know I'll manage well above that by the end of this term, but... WORRIES. ALL THE WORRIES.
Aside from school, I'm running my own SMART Recovery meeting finally, still helping out with Wellbriety (that situation has changed SO much and it's very... sobriety testing), volunteering for the PTO, volunteering my time with a native plant nursery, doing the part-time job, making and selling jewelry, still grooming and dog sitting, still gardening and landscaping...
It's so much. It's too much.
I have ended my participation in a leadership program where my "mentor" ghosted my for nearly a month. I just left the voicemail today, so I'll likely be dealing with the fallout of that tomorrow. Maybe I'll blog about it lol.
Today was also my final session with my rehab therapist, and I didn't realize it. So two mentors down in one day. And I'm kind of crushed. The one that ghosted me promised me all this help with getting my finances together, and it was, like, possibly the most valuable carrot you could have dangled in front of me. In a Long List of Things, it's The One Thing that must be tackled before I can start making my dreams come true. It's also the one problem I can't find a single source of help for. Today I went to the library to check out the library databases and just spend time in between appointments NOT BUYING BEADS AT MICHAELS CRAFT STORE and perused the finances section. Not a single book on basic budgeting. It was all how-to-get-rich stuff.
And while yeah I'm definitely taking note for, like, the FIFTH non-profit I need to create to address this educational shortcoming for adults in recovery, I would like to not have to do something entirely from the ground up. A mentor would be so, SO nice. It seems demanding or needy, but I need someone to sit with me once a week, twice a month maybe, and help me create and go over my books with me until I've gained the skill and accountability to do it myself. The credit counselor said, "You need to start with a budget."
Sir. SIR. There is a big ol' gap between where I'm at and competently creating and following a budget. There's like... many steps. And maybe most people learned those steps from a parent, or in some way had access to that education in a way that impacted their behavior patterns, but many many people did not. And from what I can tell, those folks and myself are utterly left behind by almost every program. State aid, DCF, EBT, TANF, Bridges Over Poverty, none of these government or non-profit private sector agencies provides financial literacy/competency training. I asked my regular therapist where I could start from a behavioral stand point, and while we did come to a solution-based answer by the end of the session, there were crickets for several minutes while I challenged my therapist to tell me something other than "start with a budget". I'm seeking and trying and still not gaining any ground on this. It's depressing because it's interconnected to so many other things, but just living in poverty in general. It inhibits my ability to do so much.
Anyway, there's been a lot of isolation despite being busy. I'm lonely to the max, and trying to stand up for myself lately has been draining. I'm not good at it, I never know if the timing is correct or if its justified, if I'm doing it the right way or did I just ruin a connection/friendship, etc. I can't tell if I'm being negative laying out my challenges or just being real.
I do know that I'm in full relapse-mode, and I've been mindful of the substance cravings. I have 7 days to go before I reach 1 year sobriety.
There have been good and wonderful things lately, too - took my daughter to a Bee Fest, all the lovely time spent out at Lake Cheney working with native plants, my beadwork, a glorious morning walk the other day, fall and my garden, and all the growth I've experienced.
I miss being here, though. It's such a regular part of my processing and emotional health to have my blogs, and it's largely absent right now and I feel it pretty hard. In all of this "becoming", it's hard to spend any time just "being".
The olive oil store (part time job) got robbed while I was in it. (A widow's mite. It's a xtian owned shop so of course there were widow's mites.) I'm really tired of xtian music but could dedicate a whole blog post to it XD The robbing thing was weird. Ren fest this coming weekend. Hope I get to go!
I miss you folks. I appreciate knowing that anyone is still keeping an eye out for me at all. The holidays are on the horizon and like all good bi-polars, it's time to get crazy. But I gotta try and not this year and stay stable and sober, and I should try and learn on this space for some grounding. Okay I gotta stick to that sleep schedule - sometimes its the only thing between me and oblivion lol.
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ghostietea · 10 months
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I graduated!!! I now have both a degree and a certificate in 2D animation along with a general studies degree!!
I've known what I wanted to do as a career since middle school, and also knew that it would be hard for me as someone from a poor family. I started community college in my sophomore year of highschool in hopes of getting a head start and ended up staying there until now. Due to lack of access to technology, I spent my first year writing essays in notebooks and typing them up on the library computers and later, when COVID hit, I was told multiple times that it was unlikely I would even be able to pass my classes since I had to do everything on my phone. Still, I had no option but to keep going, and now I can say that I have maintained a 4.0 gpa throughout my time at college. When I started in the animation program, I was able to use animation software for the first time due to licences loaned from the school. Even though I was using a severely underpowered laptop until this time last year, I tried my best and made it through. There were so many times that I shouldn't have made it but did, and I just want to allow myself to celebrate that for a minute.
People who can't afford to go to some big art school still deserve a place in the world of animation. I wish things were fairer, and success looks different for everyone, but I'm going to keep doing what I can. There was never any other option for me than to pursue the craft I love.
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madd-catter · 1 year
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Since tumblr seems to be full of older folk with adulting advice
Is there anyway to raise your gpa after high school graduation? Or to retake one specific class after graduation?
I went through a lot of shit in high school, dad got diagnosed with cancer, got put on medication, got taken off medication because of bad side effects that continued to last even after stopping, etc. But I maintained a B average. I would've been fine.
Except in my last year of high school covid hit. I had learned during my foreign language class that I suck at online schooling and I didn't want to do it again, but now every class was online. But I still tried, I got some good grades. Except the very last semester. I guess teachers were also dealing with having to learn how online school worked, cause I could not for the life of me figure out what my statistics teacher wanted me to do. I even had my oldest brother sit down with me and help me with all my assignments and he still had no clue what I was supposed to be learning. I'd read the pages she marked and do the practice questions and then I'd get to the test and the test was completely different than the work I had just done. And I'm not against cheating, I regularly googled answers for my online classes, but since I had no clue what these questions meant I had no clue what I was supposed to be answering with. Did she want a number? an equation? I was pretty disappointed, I had heard how important statistics are in the real world and I absolutely love math so I had been looking forward to that class
Anyways that grade lowered my gpa a bunch. From the college website, I have a high enough gpa to get into the bachelors program I want, but I do not have the gpa to qualify for the state scholarship
I can probably qualify for a federal scholarship, and my mom says to use that for my first year and then use my college gpa to get the state scholarship for the remaining years. Can that work if I can't raise my high school gpa?
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