#i love how decided to this though made me wanna edit two of them so im gonna finish doing that

[luvdsc]

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting. 

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. You’re locking it in.

Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though you’re in another class with him again for spring semester this year (since all freshmen with a business major has to take the same Gen. Ed. classes), not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note one time, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that you’re very much content with.

So then why on earth is he shouting your name like you’re old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?

He’s unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.

Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you can’t even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your university’s it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. “Hey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.”

Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool “Uh huh.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“I know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, but—”

You’re barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. It’s pretty embarrassing to see how a mere stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but it’s so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes? 

Meanwhile, you’re out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.

“—with me?” Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, too caught up in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like he’s asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? You’re positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.

“Oh! Um… yes?” It’s a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope that’s the correct answer he’s looking for. 

Jaemin’s face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun. 

“Oh shit, really? You’re really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuck—you know, our class’s peer TA—said I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since we’re kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last week’s practice midterm, so I thought, ‘hey, why not shoot my shot?’” He directs another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isn’t helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.

“Wait, Donghyuck said that about me?” you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word “TUTOR” spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.

Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction. Actually, the two of you became very good friends once you very quickly got over the fact that you were firmly placed in the friendzone. He’s even dating one of your best friends now).

“Anyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.” You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.

Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isn’t socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. You blink slowly once. Then twice.

“Or, I can just… uh, type in your number if you tell me,” Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.

“Here,” you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. “I should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when you’re free and we can work something out.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re a life saver.” Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?”

You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.

What have you gotten yourself into?

ii. you want to go for a ride?

“I’m getting sus vibes from him.”

Flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder, Lana takes a long sip of her wintermelon milk tea with honey pearls, a spitting image of that one infamous Starbucks meme of your school’s alumni, Hyungwon (His picture can still be found floating through discord chats, and you’re ninety percent sure your school used it in one of their recruitment brochures at one point). She’s sprawled out on the beanbag in the corner of your shared apartment’s living room, her HP laptop covered in sailor moon stickers balanced across her thighs (She swears HP is the best laptop brand, but you don’t trust electronics advice from anyone who can’t even use a toaster properly).

“Have you even spoken to Jaemin? How exactly are you getting sus vibes from him?” Moon jumps in, glancing over the top of her MacBook as she takes a quick break from her latest coding project regarding polynomials, matrices, and a bunch of other math terminology you rather not think about. You left all that arithmetic jargon back in high school after you got a 5 on both AP calculus exams and got to skip all required math classes for your accounting major (Sungchan wasn’t so lucky).

“He’s a fratboy finance major.” Lana rolls her eyes.

“Point taken, but weren’t you into that senior, Jaehyun? He’s one of them. You called him your soulmate,” you interject, and she splutters for a few seconds before putting her hand up in protest.

“Listen, I was going through a perpetual mental breakdown at the beginning of this semester. It doesn’t count. You try being a pharmacy major. Thank god I switched out to English. My mental state was compromised, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“What do you mean not thinking straight? Lana, you literally chose the straightest, most heterosexual man out there.” Moon jibes, closing her laptop now with an air of conceding defeat. You have to give her props for trying to work on some assignments, but you already knew no one was going to get any work done tonight. It’s a Thursday night anyway, which means you have until Tuesday to get all the homework assigned today done. You can always work on them on Monday night and inevitably curse yourself for not getting it done earlier when you end up pulling an all nighter and show up to your 8 a.m. international marketing tactics class with raccoon eyes. 

“This is bullying, and we are on an anti-bullying campus,” Lana complains, giving the two of you the stink eye before leaning over and lightly shoving the snoozing boy sprawled across the floor next to her. “Wake up, Yang. Moon and Y/N gang up on me when you’re not awake to absorb all our gentle bullying.”

The boy in question sits upright, bleary eyes and the drying ink from his notes now decorating his cheek, a lasting reminder of the makeshift pillow for his impromptu nap. Yawning, he stretches his arms, rubbing his face and making an even bigger mess of smears. “What’d I miss?”

“We were just discussing Lana‘s tragic crush on Jaehyun last year,” you say, and she makes a strangled noise next to you. “Were you up late sewing again?”

“Yes,” Yangyang grumbles, “You would think Kaneki would be so easy to cosplay since he wears all black, but the mask is taking forever to make.”

“Can’t one of your sugar daddies buy one for you?”

“What sugar daddies? If I had one, I wouldn’t be stuck in here trying to balance equations,” he moans, crumpling up another sheet filled up with scribbles and his latest attempts at answering the second to last problem for organic chemistry.

“My bad, I thought you would have some from your cosplay account.” Moon shrugs, rummaging through her large soccer mom purse for a snack and triumphantly pulling out a box of green tea Hello Pandas. “You have like 100k followers on there.”

“My audience demographic is weebs.” Yangyang deadpans. “How many weebs do you know who are rich enough to send five thousand dollars every week to a struggling college student?”

“Wait, we’re going off topic right now. What do you know about Jaemin, Yang?” Lana cuts in, and Moon nods in agreement (You try not to look too interested, but fail miserably, no doubt).

“Jaemin Na? I’ve never talked to him personally, but there’s always stories about him and his friends. Jeno is on the baseball team and notorious for his body count. He’s the one that takes up like 30% of our university’s anonymous confessions Twitter account. This is his insta, but he’s not really active on social media.” Yangyang passes his phone around for the three of you to see Jeno’s Instagram. There’s a whopping total of fourteen posts, and every picture of him with someone of the opposite sex features a different girl. Instant red flag.

“Lia is pretty big on Tik Tok,” Yangyang continues, grabbing his phone to pull up her account to show all of you. “She’s pretty and is actually really good at singing, but she's basically trying to be the next Addison Rae. Jimin models, and she’s going by Karina nowadays. I heard she tried to trademark that name or something. She posts dancing Tik Toks. She and Yeonjun collab a lot. He walks for New York fashion week and has a Tik Tok for dancing, too. I’m like 70% sure they’re only dating to boost their views. Somi is the most popular one out of them. She’s the blonde one. She’s pretty talented and I heard she signed onto the same company as the Blackpink House. She’s even done a makeup video with Vogue recently.”

“And Jaemin has a pretty large social following. He takes decent pictures, and that’s what he insists his insta is for, but let’s be real, the majority of his followers are there for his face. You should see his TikTok. He literally just recorded himself looking at the camera and put some generic caption, and he racked up like seven hundred thousand likes,” Yangyang grumbles, pulling up his account to show you all the video in question. “Like literally, what the hell is this? I have to put in so many hours making my outfits and editing my videos and all he does is smile and paste ‘Don’t have a valentine again… hope this will change soon’ on top, and the preteens are foaming at the mouth.”

“Wow, jumpscare warning next time you show me him please.” Lana wrinkles her nose at the repeating offensive clip. Yangyang merely shoves his phone even closer to her in response, and she flips him off.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked about him. Why are you suddenly interested in him? Is this your Jaehyun 2.0 phase starting up?” Yangyang grins, and Lana flicks his forehead in retaliation.

“Shut up, when are you guys gonna let that die? Besides, it’s Y/N who’s interested, not me,” Lana retorts, and immediately, the spotlight is back on you. You cough awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention.

“Uh, he just asked if I would tutor him…”

“And you said yes?” Yangyang sounds scandalized and utterly betrayed. “Why would you willingly fraternize with the enemy like that?”

“What enemy? I didn’t even know he knew I existed until this very recent development occurred.” 

“Influencers like him are instant enemies to me, and as my friend, he’s your enemy by association. I can't believe you’re helping the competition,” Yangyang sniffs.

You don’t have the guts to tell them all that the only reason you accepted his tutor proposal is because you got ahead of yourself and despite all the odds and signs, thought Jaemin was asking you out. You know your friends won’t make fun of you (too badly), but that is completely humiliating, and you will be taking that to the grave.

“It’s just tutoring, don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff, making a face at him. “He texted me yesterday, and we’re meeting up at the library later today, and I reserved a private study room for two hours.”

“Oooh, so it’s a study date?” Moon teases, and your cheeks betray you with the amount of heat now emanating off of them.

“Shut up, it’s literally just tutoring. We’re going over supply and demand curves.” 

“No, back up, he texted you yesterday and you didn’t tell us about him until today?” Lana interjects, holding up her hand and putting on a faux offended expression. “What kind of friend are you? We’re supposed to tell each other every nitty gritty detail about our love lives! Like Sungchan texts Moon good morning texts at eight in the morning, and by 8:30 a.m., we’re already getting a play by play about it in the group chat!”

Moon turns pink and opens her mouth before deciding against it and quietly shuts it. Yangyang silently laughs next to Lana, his shoulders shaking (You decide that you shouldn’t tell them Jaemin actually asked you in person to tutor him three days ago or else, Lana will chew you out even more).

You protest, flailing your arms around slightly in exasperation. “There’s literally zero development in my love life! I have nothing going on in it, and I can guarantee you that he does not see me in that light whatsoever.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Lana looks wholly unconvinced, and your two friends look back and forth between the two of you like two kids watching their divorced parents fight. “So… Do you need help picking out an outfit for tomorrow?”

“… Yeah.”

iii. sure, ken. jump in!

“Hey, Y/N!” 

Jaemin loudly whispers a little breathlessly as he drops his bag onto the table and slumps into the chair next to yours, his chest heaving slightly. Startled, you jerk up in your chair, heart skipping a beat when you realize he’s here. You were supposed to be in a private study room, but there was a group of boys already in there, and as the most non-confrontational person to walk this earth, you decided to cut your losses and take a table nearby.

“Did you wait long? I got caught up outside the library when Somi stopped me and completely forgot,” he says apologetically, pulling out his textbooks, and you shake your head, giving him a shy smile.

“No, it’s alright. I was already here anyway, and I got some extra studying done.” You gesture towards the papers and notebooks strewn across the table’s surface, covered in your notes from today’s classes. “Should we start with today’s lesson? How much did you understand in class today?”

“Maybe the first five minutes of it only.”

You pause, glancing over at him. “Professor Hwang was ten minutes late to class.”

“Exactly.” Jaemin nods, and you stifle a laugh. He grins at you. “I don’t think you realize how much of a hopeless cause I am when you agreed to tutor me.”

“We can start from the beginning then. You have four weeks until the midterm, and we can go through every lesson we’ve had so far. I’ll make up a study schedule if you give me yours. And if you continue to go to Donghyuck’s tutoring hours too, you should hopefully be able to catch up and do well on the midterm.”

Jaemin wordlessly pulls up his class schedule on his phone, and you plug them into a Google calendar that you quickly share to his email. “So, I color coded your classes in green, and my classes are in pink. Do you have any other things that we need to work around?”

He peers over at your screen, scanning the contents. “I have my weekly frat meetings on Tuesday nights and mandatory events on other nights.”

“Alright, you can put them in and we’ll figure out meeting times,” you say, pushing your laptop towards him and he starts to add in his extracurricular activities.

 “Party from 8 pm to 1 am?” you read skeptically, your eyes scanning over the event he tacked in under this week’s Friday.

“Yeah, can’t miss it,” Jaemin says, typing in more events and making sure to color code them in blue. “Don’t you have things to do on Friday night too?”

“Uh, maybe grab a poke bowl from the dining hall to go and watch another Banana Fish episode,” you say awkwardly, fiddling with the small Gojo keychain you have attached to your pouch.

Jaemin stops, looking over at you. “You watch Banana Fish?”

Your cheeks grow warm. “… Yeah, why?” 

His eyes light up and he asks eagerly, “Did you see the latest episode? When Golzine leaves Arthur in charge?”

The two of you continue discussing the plot as he finishes up adding in his schedule for the next four weeks, finally nudging the laptop back towards you. “Do you need to add in your stuff too?”

“Mm no, it’s fine. I already put in my classes, and I’m not in any clubs or sororities,” you answer, making sure to input Donghyuck’s tutoring hours as well before scanning over the calendar and pinpointing areas where he’s free for at least one to two hours. “Okay, should we start with meeting three times a week?”

“Huh, you memorized Hyuck’s hours?” Jaemin notes, giving you a sly smile as he moves closer to look at the schedule.

“Huh? No, don’t you always know your professors’ and TAs’ office hours?” you ask, looking up and are immediately startled after underestimating the proximity between you and the beautiful boy next to you. 

“No, I’m not a nerd,” he snorts lightly, and you laugh awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction and put a little more distance between the two of you before you go into cardiac arrest, “Right, yeah, well, anyway—”

“You were also interested when I said Hyuck mentioned you before,” Jaemin says suddenly, sitting up straight before a wide grin spreads across his face as he loudly exclaims, “You totally have a crush on him!”

“Quiet down!” You immediately shush him, the tips of your ears burning as everyone within a 40 feet radius in the library is now staring at the two of you. You’ve never received this much attention before, and you very quickly realize that you absolutely hate it. You loudly whisper-protest, stumbling over your words in a panic, “I—I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Oh, come on, your face is getting hot and you’re stuttering. You do too like him,” Jaemin laughs softly, propping his elbow onto the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he gives you a once over. “I could totally make you into his type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask hotly, cheeks burning even more when you feel his eyes graze over your figure.

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun. We can go to the mall and pick out some cute clothes for you, and then swing by the hair shop. You’re definitely using the wrong conditioner and shampoo,” Jaemin continues, eying your hair for a quick second.

“Wait, wait, we’re just here for tutoring, what are you even talking about?” You ask, bewildered before grasping a stray strand of your hair between your fingers. “And what do you mean I’m using the wrong shampoo?”

“And conditioner,” Jaemin pipes up, picking up his phone to search up some better brands he would recommend. “What have you been using? 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders?”

“No,” you huff softly, your ears growing even warmer at the accusation. “I just use whatever my mom buys in bulk at Costco.”

“Okay, well, you should use this instead,” Jaemin says, showing his phone screen to you, and your eyes widen slightly when you note the price tag.

“I cannot be forking over nearly seventy dollars on shampoo and conditioner,” you say incredulously, pushing his phone back towards him and waving your hand dismissively. “And there’s no way I’m going to spend even more money on new clothes.”

“Okay, fine, I think I have some unopened bottles from sponsored deals that I can give to you,” Jaemin sighs, opening up his text messages to find his friends’ group chat. “Or my friends would have some good ones, too. Maybe we can get you some of their free clothes from sponsorships, too.”

“You guys just get free clothes?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, glancing over at you. “On second thought, Karina and Lia aren’t the same size as you, so you won’t fit them. We can just order some basic pieces online or something for starters.”

“We—We aren’t doing this,” you loudly whisper back to him, hyper aware of the other students around you who keep glancing over at Jaemin. “Let’s just focus on making this schedule and helping you pass your midterm.”

“Oh, please, doll, it’d be fun. Just think of it as a payment for your tutoring,” Jaemin persuades you, scooting closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours lightly. Your breath hitches in your throat at the pet name and his touch. You’ve never been this close to any boy before, let alone one as attractive as Jaemin.

“You’ll look so pretty, I know the perfect outfits to make for you. And I can teach you how to get Hyuck’s attention, too,” he continues, nudging you lightly, and you’re still dazed, unable to get over the fact that he’s impossibly close to you, close enough for you to count the pretty lashes framing his even prettier eyes. You wonder what it’s like to be that beautiful, what it’s like to have people falling at your feet, what it’s like to mesmerize everyone the second you walk into a room.

Honestly, if Jaemin asked you to jump, your only response would be “how high.”

“If I agree to this, will you finally pay attention?” you sigh, and Jaemin instantly brightens up, nodding and giving you another one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip flop. Your Achilles’ heel is one very persistent boy who goes by the name of Na Jaemin, and he has hit you with a direct bullseye.

“Yes, I’ll be a model student, doll.”

You hesitate for a split second before relenting. “Okay, fine, deal.”

iv. i’m a barbie girl in the barbie world.

Jaemin is easy on the eyes, but currently proving to be very difficult for your nerves during your fourth tutoring session. Your wardrobe has increased in style and size by now, and you’re dressed in a pretty lilac top that wraps around you and accentuates your curves and hides what needs to be hidden perfectly. Your jeans may dig a little more than you’d like into your stomach, but it’s your fault that you chose to wear your photo jeans instead of your sitting jeans. Also, your hair has never looked better, all thanks to the boy seated next to you.

“No, when there is a low supply, there’s a high demand. They directly affect each other,” you try to re-explain to the boy next to you, drawing out the line graph once again. He stares down at the familiar graph before looking at the written practice problem in front of him. Professors must have an insane amount of patience, you silently think to yourself. 

You sigh. “Let’s put it this way. You and Jeno want to buy the same shirt, but there’s only one left in the right size. So that’s two people who are demanding the one shirt. And the store only has one shirt in its supply. So how would you describe this situation?”

“Oh.” The look of realization flashes across Jaemin’s face as your example easily snaps the puzzle pieces into place for him. “There’s a high demand and low supply. Too many people want the shirt, but there’s not enough shirts.”

“Yes, you got it!” You cheer quietly, mindful of your location at one of the library’s tables. “Now try reading through the practice problems and draw the appropriate supply and demand graphs for each one.”

 “And when I’m done with this, we can take a break, and I’ll teach you how to do makeup. My friends will help,” Jaemin says idly as he reads through the first problem again. 

Your stomach lurches slightly at that, and you hesitate. “Your friends?”

“Yeah, you know, Jeno, Karina, Lia, and Yeonjun. Somi, too, but she’s been busy. I can teach you basic skincare and makeup, but the girls will have to help you with the rest,” he says casually, scrawling down his first answer and the corresponding graph.

You swallow hard, your voice croaking slightly before you hastily clear it. “Are you sure? Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, doll. You’re like a puppy, and everyone likes those,” Jaemin mumbles idly, eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the second problem.

“A puppy?” You don’t know whether to be offended or not yet.

Oh, you know, just that you’re cute and all,” Jaemin laughs lightly, starting to write down his next answer, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. You force yourself to breathe regularly again.

“Oh, I see,” you start to answer coolly, but stuttering on the last word, internally cursing your tongue at the last stumble. You try to sit calmly and relax for the rest of the tutoring session as Jaemin slowly makes his way through the practice packet, but the knot in your stomach continues to tangle even more, growing ever bigger. Maybe you should just tell Jaemin that lunch didn’t agree with you and cut this meetup short. 

But that means less time spent with Jaemin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Jaemin is nice, so his friends should be as well, you reason with yourself. There’s no need to be nervous. Even if they’re all incredibly beautiful, hot people with the most unapproachable aura you have ever encountered.

Like honestly, how is someone like Karina even real? Her face could start a modern day equivalent of the Trojan War. She is literally the face blueprint for every main female character you play in your otome games.

Turns out, Karina is even more gorgeous up close. Ridiculously close with the way she’s inches from your face as she swipes on some blush on the apples of your cheeks. You never thought you’d see the resident it girl here for you, standing in the middle of your dorm room, let alone have an actual conversation with her that extended beyond a polite hello when she stops by for Giselle. It’s already been 45 minutes, and your nerves still haven’t calmed down.

“You just need to apply a little bit here and here on both your cheeks,” she instructs you, pointing towards your cheekbones and carefully applying the rosy powder to the same areas. She pauses in the application momentarily so that you can type out a few notes into your phone covering her directions. “You can go heavier if you want the cute sunburn, Sabrina Carpenter look, but if you do too much, you’ll end up looking like my ex.”

“What?” You’re startled, glancing over at her and nearly getting blinded once again by her lethal face card. She laughs lightly, giving you a slight smile. “A clown.” 

“Oh, got it,” you chuckle, albeit nervously, shooting her a quick smile. “I’ll make sure to not do that.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Just a bit of makeup here and there, and you’ll be fine. All I do is some mascara, falsies, and a good lippie when I’m lazy, and I’m out the door in ten minutes,” Lia jumps in, holding several different tubes of lip tints.

“Are you sure? That’s really it?” You ask hesitantly, glancing over the various makeup products strewn over your desk. It looks a lot more complicated than what she had just described.

“Well, maybe you might need a bit more, like concealer and foundation. And some bronzer and heavy contouring. But just stick to the skincare routine and it’ll help lessen it,” Karina sighs, dabbing some highlighter to the tip of your nose before seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, adding hastily, “But it’s so worth it, trust. You’ll look so pretty, and it comes with so many perks. Girl math is knowing you can go out with no money and just your face card.”

“Hey, you’re friends with Yangyang?” Lia pipes up, noticing the photo strip you have pinned on your corkboard, nestled between the various Mystic Messenger Seven fanart and Zorro art prints.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I am. You know him?” You answer, and she nods before leaning in and evenly applying a thin layer of periwinkle tint on your lips. “Yeah, we’re in the same German class. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Well, you definitely can’t tell her about the raging heart on he has for his best friend, but it’s not like he really is seeing anyone either. You do vaguely remember Yangyang saying Lia was pretty and talented during his quick 5 minute minute class to Jaemin and his friends, so it’s not like he hates her either.

“No, he’s not,” you answer, hoping you made the right choice, and Lia’s face visibly brightens. “Oh, really? That’s great.”

“Okay, we’re done.” Karina announces, stepping back and holding up a mirror for you. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh, wow,” you suck in a breath, nearly gasping in surprise as you peer at the glass. You almost don’t recognize yourself. The contouring lifts up your face, slimming it down, and the blush gives you a pretty pink hue that makes you look sun kissed. Your lower lashes have nearly doubled in length with the mascara, giving you a pretty babydoll look. Karina had perfectly applied a set of falsies for you, framing your eyes delicately, and the shimmery eyeshadow and soft winged eyeliner accentuates your eyes even more. Your lips are the prettiest shade of pink, tinted and glossy.

You can’t believe it is your own reflection staring back at you.

“Now put this outfit on,” Lia says with a knowing smile, placing a shopping bag in your lap. “Jaemin picked it out.”

“Oh, really? Alright,” you manage to mumble out, dazed and still admiring yourself in the hand mirror. Karina laughs softly, nudging Lia before moving towards your door. “We have to get to a sorority meeting now, but I hope you like it, doll. And make sure to practice.”

“I love it,” you say breathlessly, grazing your fingertips against the cool glass, still in disbelief. “And I definitely will practice.”

“Mm, good, text us if you need any help! And send progress pics! We want to see how it’s going,” Lia answers, waving over her shoulder before the two of them exit your dorm. Sitting there alone, you stare at your reflection for a little longer, admiring yourself. You feel so pretty. 

You finally remember the paper bag on your lap, and you immediately dig into it, pulling out a flowy floral sundress. It’s beautiful, and you quickly tug off your jeans and tshirt before going to your drawers to dig around for the appropriate bra for the dress. You manage to find it, snapping on the bra around yourself from the front before twisting it until the clasp is against your back. You hastily push your arms through the straps, tugging on either side until it’s on perfectly. You suck in a quick breath, internally preparing yourself for the battle with the next piece of clothing, a.k.a. your worst enemy: spandex. You’ve familiarized yourself with the awkward jig you have to do around your dorm until you’ve wriggled into the tight elastic enough so that it sits in the correct spot and sucks in all the right places.

At last, you won the war, but you feel sweaty now, flopping back onto your bed for a quick break. You flap your hands in front of your face, thanking whoever decided to invent setting spray. You grab your deodorant spray and douse yourself in a heavy dose of it before picking up the sundress and slipping it over your head. To your great relief, it slides on perfectly, and you quickly shuffle over to the full length mirror hanging on the back of your door. You straighten out the dress and quickly pat down any strand of hair knocked askew from your latest struggles before giving a smile to the mirror.

Dare you say it? You look pretty.

You’ve never looked this pretty before.

You happily take out the dainty gold heart necklace you had carefully tucked into your top desk drawer, struggling for a few seconds before you manage to clasp it around your neck. You quickly pull the pendant towards the front before slipping on the strappy sandals you left next to your desk. You grab the cute purse you bought last week, now packed with the perfect essentials, and give yourself one last once over.

You have nowhere to go, but you decide to take a walk to the dining hall. After all, you’re dressed up so nicely, makeup done so perfectly, you can’t waste it on another night stuffing your face with hot Cheetos and rewatching the first season of Haikyuu!!. Opening your door, you step out and nearly run into someone. 

“Oh, finally, you’re done, doll. I thought you died in there or some…”

His eyes widening in utter shock, his next word dies on the tip of his tongue when Jaemin sees you standing in front of him. His mouth falls open slightly before he quickly closes it to swallow harshly, his throat running dry. He’s never seen you like this before, never imagined that you’d be this pretty. He inhales sharply, stiffening slightly as his eyes rake over your figure, seeing how the dress perfectly accentuates your figure, and settles on your face.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” Your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks grow warm when you notice his stunned reaction.

“Um,” he croaks out, voice cracking before he quickly swallows again, silently cursing when puberty decides to make a belated appearance. “Lia texted me that you were done, so I wanted to see how it went. You look… wow.”

Your cheeks heat up even further, and you laugh a little nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “R-really? It’s not too much?”

“No!” He immediately blurts out before his cheeks flush carmine. “I—I mean, you look really good. You should dress like this more often.”

You can’t stop the smile spreading across your face, and Jaemin’s heart flip flops in his chest. “Really? Thank you, I will then.”

“Of course, really. I picked the dress myself after all,” He tries to joke before hastily clearing his throat. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I was just going to go to the dining hall and grab some food,” you answer awkwardly, shifting your purse over your shoulder slightly and tightening your fingers around its strap.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” Jaemin blurts out, a little high pitched, mentally facepalming at how he sounds. “I mean, we can go over some of the harder problems in that packet since I probably need more studying anyway, and I’ll teach you a couple more dating tricks.”

“Sure, okay, that sounds good.” You give him a wider beam, and Jaemin feels his heart beat a little faster. Maybe you don’t need that much teaching from him after all. Seems like you’re a quick learner.

v. life is plastic, it’s fantastic!

“The only thing you’re fucking is stupid.”

“Shut the hell up, Yeonjun. At least I’m not sticking my dick in crazy.”

You watch the light argument going on between Jeno and Yeonjun in amusement. You and Jaemin had just finished your ninth tutoring session two hours ago, and you think he’s getting on track to actually scoring a decent grade for the next midterm. You were initially going to head towards Lana and Moon’s dorm for your weekly anime show marathon, but Jaemin insisted that you stop by the Alpha Sigma Psi house for a small party. Giselle and Karina are both part of that house, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to make a quick appearance. Good thing you spent some time touching up your makeup before today’s tutoring session.

“Hey, doll! Join the photo,” Jaemin calls out to you, gesturing you towards the area he and the rest of his friends are standing. You see another really pretty girl—Minjeong, was it?—standing on the side, holding up a phone and preparing to take the picture.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I can just take the photo instead,” you laugh awkwardly, extending your hand out towards Minjeong, but Jeno gently nudges you forward, “No way, you never take pics with us. Just one, come on, Y/N.”

“Yeah, join us!” Jaemin says brightly, tugging you towards him and you stumble slightly, falling forward into his chest. You quickly catch yourself, hands suddenly pressed against his chest, and the blood rushes to your face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you start to babble, trying to push yourself away before Jaemin quickly wraps his arm around your waist. “Nope, you’re staying here, it’s just a few pics, please, doll?”

“I—I mean, I don’t really—”

You start to say before Minjeong’s voice cuts through the air. “Okay, I’m taking it in five seconds now. So get ready and pose or be ready to live with the consequences on Insta forever.” 

Everyone immediately shuffles around, and you’re squeezed even tighter against Jaemin, and you just know that he can feel your heart pounding rapidly against his chest.

“Smile, doll,” Jaemin laughs gently, squeezing your hip lightly and you inhale sharply at that, your heart rate spiking and increasing exponentially. You muster up a few shaky smiles as the flash starts to go off.

After a few more pictures, you manage to untangle yourself from the group and hurriedly go towards Minjeong. “I can take the pictures, you should join in.”

She immediately brightens up at that, giving you a kilowatt smile as she hands you the phone and slips into your original position in between Jaemin and Karina. “Oh, thanks, Y/N.”

You wait a few moments for everyone to get readjusted before you begin to snap some photos, having already mastered this from the previous hang outs you’ve joined and knowing how to take the best angles for everyone, including all the 0.5 zoom out ones. After taking some additional group and solo photos for the girls, you’re finally free of your duties. Your eyes widen when you check the time on your phone, and you hurriedly make your way over to Jaemin.

“Hey, I need to get going now. I have to get to Lana and Moon’s dorm, so I’ll see you later,” you say quickly, already beginning to brush past him as the realization sets in that it’s been over an hour when you told your friends that you would only be fifteen minutes late.

“Wait, what? Hey, hold on, doll.” Jaemin reaches out to you, but you slip past him, calling over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late!”

He strides over, soon matching your pace as you speed walk back to the freshman dormitories. “Can’t you slow down a little bit? It’s not like you all haven’t seen these episodes before, plus we watched a few of them together after our last tutoring session.”

“Yeah, but I’m over an hour late,” you stress, slightly frazzled now as you hurriedly type out an apology to send to the group chat.

“Just breathe, okay? You’ll be fine. They’re your friends. They should understand,” Jaemin reassures you, grabbing your hand and you freeze slightly. He notices your stop and teases lightly, “I said slow down, not stop. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you stammer out a little too quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. He’s holding your hand. Na Jaemin is hand in hand with you, fingers intertwined. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming.

“Well, alright then, come on, let me walk you back,” Jaemin laughs before tugging you along. “You can help me pick out which pictures to post on Insta along the way, too, yeah?”

“Oh, sure,” you say breathlessly, your heart rate quickening to an embarrassing speed when he squeezes your hand gently, and you nesrly trip over your own feet.

“Perfect, so what about this one?” He holds up his phone to show you the picture you had taken for the group earlier, and you falter slightly. Why are you feeling a little disappointed with his choice?

Jaemin notices your hesitation and says a little softly, “I know you’re a private person. So I thought you’d prefer if I posted the group photo you took. You always take the best pictures for me, too. You know my good side the best. And it’d be weird if Hyuck saw, too, right? But did you want the other photo? I mean, if you really want it, I can..?”

“No!” You hurriedly say to reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. “No, you’re right. I don’t want my picture out there. And um, yeah, that definitely wouldn’t be good if Hyuck saw.”

Jaemin gives you a relieved smile. “Yeah, exactly. You’re not upset, right, doll? We still have that fun pic of us and our homemade pizzas from earlier that I posted on my finsta. I didn’t know making pizzas would be that easy.”

“Of course not, don’t worry about it,” you laugh softly, continuing to walk back to the freshman dormitories, and Jaemin swings your joined hands between the two of you freely.

“Mm, I’m getting free cooking and tutoring lessons in exchange for dating tips. Two for the price of one is quite the good deal for me, right?” Jaemin teases lightly, and you let out another laugh.

“You’re right, it is. You better step up your game then.”

“Oh, just you wait, you’ll get dating tips and a boyfriend, so we’ll be even,” Jaemin chuckles softly, squeezing your hand, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach once again, and you muster up the courage to say something a little more teasing.

“Is that a guarantee?”

“Well, you have a demand, and I must supply, right?”

“…I don’t think that’s how it quite goes, Jaemin. Maybe you need a few more tutoring sessions.”

“All I hear is that you want to spend more time with me,” Jaemin laughs, giving you the prettiest smile, and your cheeks warm up even more, heart stuttering in your chest. Speechless, you let him continue on, his chattering filling the air as you listen with quiet content, your hand securely tucked in his for the remainder of the walk back.

vi. you can brush my hair.

Jaemin sits on the edge of his chair across from you at the table in the dorm common area, anxiously tapping his fingers against the flat surface. You are down to the last page of the mock exam packet, carefully going over his work with a red pen. You made minimal marks on the papers, a stark contrast to the very first practice exam he had worked on near the start of your tutoring. At that point in time, he didn’t even get to the end of the exam.

“Amazing.”

You say in awe, scanning through the last problem Jaemin had completed before tallying up his final score and calculating his results. “I can’t believe it. You got an 87.”

“No fucking way,” Jaemin is wide eyed, staring at you in disbelief, and you give him a wide smile, sliding the packet over to him, so that he can look over the exam and notes you’ve written for the problems he missed. 

“Yes fucking way.”

“Holy shit, this is insane,” Jaemin breathes out, carefully reading through each page, and to his utter amazement, he understands every note and explanation you had added next to each incorrect question. He looks up at you, beaming, “I really got a B+?”

“You did,” you confirm, smiling back at him. “And who knows? It might become an A if the exam gets curved.”

“Oh my god, I owe you my life,” Jaemin chuckles, staring down at the graded exam in front of him, still in disbelief. “Seriously, doll, thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course, anytime,” you laugh sheepishly, twisting the rings adorning your fingers around nervously before averting your attention elsewhere, standing up to go towards the adjacent communal kitchen and carrying your filled tote bag with you. “A—Anyway, I brought some things to celebrate a job well done so far.”

“And how did you know I would’ve done well? What if I completely bombed that exam?” Jaemin teases you, standing up and following after you.

“I don’t know, I guess I just believed in you,” you stutter out, cheeks warming up as you set down your tote bag on the counter, unable to look him in the eyes, and he freezes, mulling over your words silently.

You believe in him? Someone who’s a hopeless cause? He honestly didn’t even believe in himself, he thinks to himself, his chest constricting uncomfortably, a foreign feeling making its entrance known to him, constricting around his heart. He inhales sharply, shoving it away with an easy going smile. “Is that so? Well, thanks, Y/N. And what are we doing now?”

“Making pancakes,” you answer, busying yourself with pulling out the ingredients from your tote bag. “You need to be well fed before the midterm. Your brain needs food. And the class is at 8 am, and neither of us are not morning people, so this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Pancakes?” Jaemin echoes after you, glancing at the various items strewn across the counter’s surface. “Does it really take this many ingredients? Isn’t it just the box mix and water?”

“That’s the short cut way. We’re making pancakes from scratch,” you laugh softly, taking out a mixing bowl and whisk along with the measuring cups and spoons. 

“But why? It’s so much easier the other way.” Jaemin whines softly, and you chuckle lightly. “Trust me, it’s worth the effort.”

You hand the one cup measuring utensil and bowl to Jaemin and nudge him towards the flour. “Help me measure out two cups of flour.”

“Alright,” he sighs, opening the bag of flour and carefully scooping out the first cup, scraping off any excess before dumping it into the bowl before repeating the process. “What next?”

“Four tablespoons of sugar,” you answer, handing him the sugar and appropriate measuring utensil before working on measuring four teaspoons of baking powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda. You pour those to the mixing bowl as Jaemin quietly measures the sugar and adds it in as well before waiting for your next instructions. You quickly drop in half of a teaspoon of salt before pushing the bowl towards him. “Now whisk this together gently, please.”

Jaemin busies himself with combining the dry ingredients as you take out half a stick of butter from the fridge (The one labeled with your name, of course. You’re no food thief, unlike someone who’s been stealing other people’s leftover takeout). You microwave it to get four tablespoons of melted butter before making your way to Jaemin’s side.

“Okay, now make a well in the center of it,” you say, and Jaemin clumsily makes an indent in the dry mixture before looking towards you for approval.

“Perfect, now add in two teaspoons of vanilla extract and crack the egg into it there,” you instruct him, and he obediently follows your directions. You measure out one and three quarters cups of milk and add it to the well before also pouring in the melted butter.

“Do I just whisk it together now?” Jaemin asks, picking up the whisk again, and you nod.

“Yes, mix it all together. It’s fine if there’s a few lumps, but it should be smooth overall.” Your eyes trail over his face, and you stifle a small laugh. “You got a little something on your cheek.”

“What?” Jaemin looks up, pausing in his whisking and you can’t help but giggle, staring at the flour dusting his cheek. “There’s flour on your face.”

“Oh, really? Can you wipe it off for me?” Jaemin laughs softly, attempting to brush at it with his shoulder but failing to reach that high.

“Oh, s-sure,” you stammer slightly, your hand quivering slightly as you outstretch your fingers and gingerly brush your fingertips against the apple of his cheek. His sun kissed skin is warm beneath your fingertips, and your breath hitches in your throat before you gently wipe away the remaining residue. You can feel his gaze searing into your face, but you refuse to look him directly in the eyes.

“There, all done,” you murmur, hastily pulling away and taking a step back. Jaemin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He clears his throat, setting down the bowl. “I think this is all done, too.”

“Oh, great, that’s great,” you say, immediately focusing on the bowl before carrying it with you towards the stove, turning it on. “Let’s set this to medium-low heat. And I’ll add some butter to the pan, so the pancake won’t stick.”

Jaemin hands you the leftover butter and pan for you to set onto the stove. You use the spatula to move around a pat of butter, coating the pan nicely. Once the stove is ready and the butter starts to sizzle slightly, you pour a quarter cup of the batter onto the pan, expertly flicking your wrist to rotate the pan and cause the batter to form a perfect circle. You pull out a small container of blueberries, sprinkling some of them on top.

“Woah.” Jaemin watches you, impressed. “Teach me how to do that.”

“This? It’s easy,” you laugh softly, checking on the pancake until its underside is golden and small bubbles start to form on the top. You quickly move the pan, flipping the pancake onto its other side. “You can try making the next one.”

“Yeah? Will you wrap your arms around me and give me the one on one experience?” Jaemin jokes lightheartedly, and you nearly choke. “I mean—I don’t think that's completely necessary.”

“Relax, doll, I’m just kidding,” he laughs softly, nudging you gently, and you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, totally. Just a joke.”

Once the pancake is golden on both sides, you carefully slide it onto a plate Jaemin pulled out from one of the cabinets. Your heart rate finally returns to its normal state, and you manage to say calmly, “Maple syrup and whipped cream are in the fridge.” 

Jaemin takes out the aforementioned toppings, generously slathering on some butter before pouring the syrup and spraying whipped cream onto the pancake. He cuts out a small piece and quickly spears it onto his fork before taking the bite, nearly moaning in delight at the first taste.

“Holy crap, this is so fucking good.”

“My secret recipe,” you say proudly as you start to pour the batter for a second pancake, evenly spreading it on the pan. “Was it worth the effort?”

“Yes.” Jaemin swallows, almost immediately going for another bite before he gazes at you, giving you a genuine smile, and your heart rate again increases to an alarming speed.

“Definitely worth it.”

vii. undress me everywhere.

You finish the midterm in forty five minutes, being the first one to turn in your completed exam. This  means you finished twenty minutes before the class ends and consequently, either failed it spectucularly or knocked it out of the park. You really hope it’s the latter.

Despite being rather preoccupied with other matters a.k.a. your suddenly thriving social life, you managed to cram in some studying here and there because your mother would absolutely kill you if you lost your provost scholarship. Gifted kid burnout? Who’s that? You never heard of her before (Just kidding, you’ve had plenty of breakdowns and cry fests over calculating bond values and stock prices).

Now outside of the classroom in one of the open study alcoves, you drop your Longchamp bag on the empty chair next to you before tugging at the back of your jean skirt before carefully sitting down. You make sure to readjust your bra straps, tucking them under the ruched fabric of your white shirt. Tapping your fingers against the scratched surface of the table, you briefly admire the shimmery gold ombré manicure adorning your nails that Jaemin had chosen last week. You pull out a compact from the inner side pocket of your purse, carefully checking your makeup to ensure it is still in pristine condition before quickly swiping in another layer of your Buxom plumping lip gloss in the best shade: fir royale.

The flurry of text messages pinging across your screen quickly catches your attention, and you tuck your mirror and tube of lip gloss away before scrolling through them, letting out a quiet scoff at Karina’s latest melodramatic outburst in the clout chasers group chat:

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: guys, gals, and yuckjun

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: what tf ??? why are you calling me out

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up or else I won’t make out with you anymore

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:46 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you that touch starved bro

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: anyway as i was saying

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: this skank in my marketing class has been copying my outfits and posting them on her insta and she has like 10k followers now

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: time to tear a bitch apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: like look at this shit

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: sent {10 images.jpeg}

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: my followers are gonna rip her apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: she’s downgrading my brand

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: dw girl i’ll do a response video so my followers will see too

[ 11:48 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: she can’t get away with this

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:48 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: idk… they’re similar styles but that’s what popular rn

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: it’s gonna be song jia 2.0 watergate

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: just say you’re broke and go

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: if she’s gonna plagiarize me, she better do it right like bffr walmart version 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: you have proof they’re fake? 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: i mean fake bitch fake bags right

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: idk she’s kinda hot

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up jen be like your hairline and fall back

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: HELLO ?! back me up yeonjun

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: um

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: if you wanna be fucking stupid then knock yourself out

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: hey my place tonight jun 🥰

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you gonna listen to your own advice yj

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: excuse me ????

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: 🤐🤐🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: proverbs 26:11

“Hey, doll, what’s so funny?” 

Jaemin appears next to you, and you let out a startled squeak, jumping in your seat, and he laughs, quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. You look at him wide eyed for a few seconds, his question not yet registering in your mind, and he waits patiently for your answer.

“Oh!” Your eyes light up, and he smiles at the endearing sight. “Just Karina ranting about something and Yeonjun being whipped.”

“Ah, so the usual?” He reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and you stand up, pulling your skirt down once more to ensure you’re covered. The two of you start to make your way out of the Langley Hall. 

“Yep. How was the midterm for you?”

He brightens up, opening the door for you and you thank him. “It wasn’t too bad at all! I actually understood like 90% of the questions and for the others, I was able to narrow down the answers between two choices, so 50/50 chance, fingers crossed I picked the right one.”

You beam when you hear that, and he returns the smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you pretend to wipe away faux tears. “I feel like a proud mom.”

“I think my mom actually will be proud,” he says, eyes scanning the cars parked on the nearby street before finding his. He grabs your hand, tugging you along. “C’mon, we gotta go celebrate that our misery is over until finals week. Plus, we gotta prep you when you talk to Hyuck.”

“Wait, what?” You abruptly stop short, and he nearly loses his grip on your hand. “When am I talking to him?”

“This Saturday. You’re coming with me to the Nu Chi party, right?”

“Since when? I don’t go to parties,” you protest, “They’re too loud and noisy, and beer is gross and—”

“You went to the Alpha Sigma one a few weeks ago though?” Jaemin interrupts, and you shake your head. “That was a small party though. This one is the party of the semester. What if I embarrassed myself in front of the entire school?”

“Parties are the prime time for meeting people and getting to know them because alcohol makes everyone friendlier and people don’t stay within their friend groups,” Jaemin interrupts. “Do you really believe that you’ll get him to like you by, I don’t know, one day, your eyes will meet across the classroom, and he’ll fall madly in love with you? This isn’t one of your fanfics, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, letting go of his hand on purpose, and he frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout before reaching out for your hand again. You swiftly dodge him, and he whines, quickly snatching your hand up and lacing your and his fingers together.

“I hope this isn’t how you’ll treat him on your date. Thank god we’re doing a trial run right now.”

“A trial run?” you echo him, and he nods, flashing you that favorite smile of his that never fails to make you weak in the knees.

“Well, we have to make sure your first date goes perfectly so there will be a second, right? Practice makes perfect,” he says matter-of-factly, and you nod slowly in agreement. The logic makes sense somehow. 

“Okay, so where would you pick for a first date?”

“Maybe a cute cafe? Oh, there’s that one place: Cloudy with a Chance of Boba!” You brighten up, thinking about that boba shop’s menu you spent a good half hour scrolling through on Yelp last night.

“Mm, the most popular place right now is that ramen place on the end of Maisie Street. It’d probably be best to go there,” he muses, tugging you along via your intertwined hands. You nearly stumble in your heeled sandals but swiftly catch yourself.

“O-oh, okay, so are we going there now?”

“Nah, let’s do the ice cream place next door to it. Not really feeling noodles at the moment.” He stops to look over his shoulder at you, and you run into his back, causing him to let go before quickly reaching out and grabbing your arms to steady you. “Woah, be careful.”

“Sorry.” You’re flustered, your cheeks now growing hotter than a furnace. Jaemin reaches forward, his finger carefully swiping at the smudged lip gloss on the corner of your lip. “Where’s your lip gloss? You should reapply this.”

Eyes widening, he then shifts and peers behind him, craning his neck to the side in all attempts to look at the back of his shirt. “There’s not a mark on my shirt, right?” 

You quickly rub off any shimmery residue. “It’s fine, your shirt is dark blue, so you can’t see it anymore.” 

“Oh, good. Wait, where’s your lip gloss?” You fish through your bag, pulling out the tube and handing it to Jaemin. He uncaps it, giving you the lower half of the gloss before gently grasping your chin with one hand. He leans forward and tilts your head towards him, his eyes focused on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach erupt in an instant. You try so hard to stand still, fidgeting with one of the rings on your finger behind your back. 

Jaemin’s face is so close to yours that you can count every single long dark eyelash that frames his pretty eyes. His lips are the prettiest shade of carmine, and you wonder what it’s like to be Aphrodite’s favorite child. How lucky you are to already be basking in the attention of her favorite; imagine how much luckier he is to be her favorite.

The beautiful boy in front of you carefully applies the gloss for you, fully concentrating on coating your lips with a pretty sheen once again. When he glances up, he’s almost blown away by the way you’re looking at him. 

You look stunning, pretty as a picture in VOGUE magazine. Not quite the cover page, but you’re nearly there. A swell of pride runs through his veins, like an artist admiring his latest masterpiece on show in MOMA.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, handing back to you the lip gloss. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

“Alright.” You follow behind him like a lost puppy, and he reaches back to grab your hand and interlace your fingers. Your heart nearly skips a beat as your cheeks grow warmer once again, and for a split second, you wonder if he feels the same way.

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces, letting go of your hand to open the shop’s door, the bell above it jingling faintly as he gestures for you to go inside.

You enter the pretty shop, marveling the clean and simple interior with circular white tables and matching garden iron chairs surrounding each one. There’s bright greenery and plants decorating the edges of the shop, and the wall is covered in mismatched frames of paintings and pictures in various sizes and colors. The cheeky neon sign displayed near the front read, “It’s not gonna lick itself!”, and you laugh softly when you see it. The display of different colorful ice creams at the front are absolutely enticing, and you’re already struggling to decide which two flavors to pick.

You finally decide on a Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb swirl, accepting it from the cashier before you start to pull out your wallet. Before you can even pull out your card, Jaemin taps his phone against the screen, paying for both yours and his.

“Never pay on the first date,” he chides you lightly, picking up his ice cream. “Always let the guy pay for the first date.”

“Oh, but shouldn’t we at least split it?” You ask sheepishly, walking towards a table near the back that he gestures towards. He follows behind you, picking up some spoons and napkins.

“If the guy is so broke that he can’t pay $7 for your ice cream, then he shouldn’t be out dating anyway. He should be getting a job,” Jaemin retorts, tugging your chair out for you before sitting across from you and handing you a spoon and napkin. “Don’t you watch that Shera lady? Sprinkle, sprinkle and all that jazz. Maybe you can split for the future dates, but if the guy has any basic decency, he would pay for the first one.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you sigh, taking a hefty scoop of your ice cream and having the first bite. It’s delicious, and you make a mental note to buy a pint and bring back to your dorm to share with Giselle later.

The two of you continue to discuss various appropriate topics to broach on a first date (“Hey Jaemin, you like cheese? My favorite’s Gouda.” “… Please do not ask that.”). You quickly jot down bullet points in your Notes app, your fingers flying over the screen as Jaemin instructs you on good conversational starters and body language.

“So you just need to touch him on his upper forearm and then pull away. Stroke his ego and say he’s funny or some shit like that. At least you don’t have to force yourself to laugh with him though because Hyuck is naturally funny anyway. And he’s good at keeping up the conversation and a people person, so it won’t be awkward even for your first date,” Jaemin continues as you nod, rapidly typing what he says.

“And at the end of the date, touch his shoulder again, glance down at his lips for a brief second before making eye contact. If he’s bold enough, he’ll go for the first kiss. But then just immediately smile and say you had a great time before he can lean in. After that, he won’t stop thinking about that moment, and it’ll drive him crazy, and he’ll be texting you for a second date within the next day.”

“Mm, okay, I think I got it,” you mumble absentmindedly, engrossed in writing down the last few bullet points and Jaemin leans over to take a closer look at your phone, his eyes flitting over the screen.

“So for the last point, do I have to deny the first kiss then? Smile and walk away before he leans in and…” 

You start to ask until you look up, and your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity, your and his noses almost brushing. Jaemin is so pretty, even prettier when you can count the few freckles dotting his face, can clearly see the mesmerizing golden flecks dotting his irises, can admire the way his lips look so soft and curve into the picture perfect smile. Your heart thumps wildly, nearly falling onto the floor along with your jaw when you glance up from staring at his lips and see that he’s already looking back at you with the softest expression on his face.

“You don’t have to,” Jaemin murmurs, and your heart stutters in your chest as he moves in closer, his lashes brushing against your cheek, and suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours. They’re pink and soft and slot perfectly against yours in a way that has your heart skipping beats and stomach doing cartwheels.

Eyes widening, you freeze up, letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, before he pulls away, giving you an amused smile. The lingering warmth on your lips makes your cheeks heat up, and you have to break eye contact, stammering over your words as you gently graze your fingers over your lips in wonderment.

Jaemin laughs softly as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll have to work on this too then. You’re kissing like it’s a Park Shinhye kdrama.”

You’re still dazed, cheeks growing even warmer as you avoid his gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on the hem of your skirt. “That was my first kiss.”

Jaemin pauses at the realization, his cheeks flushing slightly before he clears his throat, giving you a half smile and a light chuckle, “Oh, really? That’s cute, doll. Well, I’ll teach you some tips, so you’ll be better at it by the time you ask Hyuck out. At least you got a decent first kiss, right? No big deal.”

“Yeah, no big deal,” you echo softly, your heart still racing at breakneck speed. You pretend to focus on the remnants of your ice cream in the bottom of your paper cup, fingers gripping around the container tightly.

Jaemin was right.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop thinking about this moment anytime soon.

viii. come on, barbie, let’s go party!

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Moon asks worriedly, helping you with your makeup as you sit, perched on the edge of your bed. She uncaps your eyeliner as Lana fusses with your shirt, smoothing out any of the wrinkles. “Actually, I can’t do it. You do it, Yang. You’re an expert at this.”

“Alright, give it to me.” Yangyang comes over, grabbing the eyeliner and expertly draws on the wing above your right eye. “Years of cosplay have finally come in handy. Although, I still can’t believe you’re putting in all this effort for Jaemin.”

“I need to look pretty. He usually does my makeup for me, but he’s busy right now,” you mumble, twisting the ring around your finger anxiously. “It’s my first time going to a party. I can’t embarrass him when he’s a ten.”

“Yeah, in rupees,” Yangyang scoffs, and Lana frowns at you, stopping in her tracks. “Don't talk about yourself like that. You’re already pretty, and if anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with that slime ball. I can’t believe he doesn’t even have the decency to pick you up. Why are you the one going to his place?”

“He has some frat meeting right now,” you answer, glancing down at your newly manicured nails. The pearl color shimmers under the light, and you can’t help but admire it even more. You wish they were a little shorter, but they really do look quite pretty.

“What meeting? We’re in the same frat. Also, hold still,” Yangyang huffs, holding your chin as he draws on the left wing over your eye. “We need them to look like twins, not cousins twice removed.”

“I don’t know, he just said there was some meeting,” you mumble, holding perfectly still until he finally finishes. “Maybe it was a one on one meeting or something, who knows?”

“I still think he’s shady,” Lana grumbles, and Moon nods as well. “Yeah, like the first kiss thing?”

“It’s no big deal,” you wave your hand dismissively, hopping off of your bed and taking a look at yourself in your mirror. “Better to get it over with, right? I mean, imagine being this old and not having your first kiss yet.”

“Is that what he said to you?” Moon huffs, affronted, and you shift in your place uncomfortably. “No, of course not. It’s just—everyone gets their first kiss when they’re like fourteen or fifteen, right?”

“That’s not the point,” Lana says indignantly, tucking your hair behind your ear carefully. “You wanted it to be special, didn’t you? It just feels like… he took something away from you.”

“He didn’t. I wanted this,” you answer loudly, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops as you try not to think back to that moment. He kissed you, he really does like you back, he might have not said it out loud, but he knows how much it means to you (Wouldn’t he?).

“Okay, as long as you’re happy,” Moon gives in, and she and Lana exchange a worried look that goes unnoticed by you. But what can they do? They can continue to try convincing you, but it will never work when it falls on deaf ears. 

“I am,” you insist, avoiding your friends’ gazes and staring at yourself back in the mirror. Moon attempts to lift the mood again, offering you a tentative smile in the reflection. “This whole thing is like a whole emotional rollercoaster, and Yangyang is definitely not tall enough to ride.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m literally almost six foot tall,” Yangyang shoots back, and you laugh, relaxing once more as you watch your friends start to bicker again.

“Listen, you can’t be delusional and short. Pick a struggle.” Moon counters, and Lana agrees, handing you your phone to tuck into your pocket. “She’s right. You carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.”

You smile fondly as the bickering between your friends continues. You miss them, you realize with a jolting pang of regret, you haven’t been hanging out with them as often as you used to. In fact, the majority of your weeks are spent with Jaemin and his friends.

It’s your first cold dose of reality, and you’re hit with a startling truth. You haven’t been a very good friend lately.

—

Lana drove you to the Nu Chi Theta house, and you felt like a kindergartener being dropped for her first day of school. Your face feels hot as a wave of embarrassment rushes over you as you notice the amount of glances you receive from the insanely pretty girls and boys already on the front lawn and streaming out from the front door. You quickly exit the vehicle, hurriedly waving good bye over your shoulder before making your way into the house, almost tripping over the raised walkway.

You wander around the house, searching for Jaemin and quickly sidestepping a through the couples and other students dancing around, nearly getting bowled over by someone you recognize from your school’s football team. He gives you a quick once over before offering a half apology, eyes set on another girl on the other side of the room. You take a deep breath before pushing your way into the next room, finally spotting Jaemin with his friends, minus Jeno and Somi, by the staircase and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly, squeezing through two couples busily making out in the doorway and wincing slightly when you jostle both of them, causing them to give you dirty looks before resuming their activities. 

“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Karina says brightly, giving you a perfect smile and reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”

“My first frat party? Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” you laugh, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear nervously before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Jaemin gives you a small smile, and you return it with a slightly shaky one, your eyes flickering towards the fading pink, glossy lip mark staining the collar of his shirt. The color is much too dark to be Jaemin’s, and your stomach churns slightly.

“You look so pretty, Y/N, I love the confidence,” Lia chimes in, gently pinching the fabric of your skirt between her manicured fingers. “I love this, you’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.”

“Oh, of course! You can borrow it anytime,” you agree quickly, flashing her a slightly forced smile before glancing over at Jaemin again, unsure what to do.

“Where do you shop?” Yeonjun asks, glancing over at your outfit. “The shirt is nice, too.”

“Oh my god, yes, we have to go shopping together sometime, and you’ll have to show me all the good places,” Karina cuts in, nudging you gently before letting out a sigh, looking over at Lia. “God, I’ve been feeling so fat lately, like freshman twenty might be getting to me.”

“No, same, I’ve been extending my gym sessions and doing Pilates,” Lia huffs softly, and you remain silent, switching your weight around on each foot, glancing over at Jaemin helplessly.

“I need another drink. You coming, Y/N?” Jaemin finally speaks up before brushing past Yeonjun, and you hurriedly follow behind him, careful not to fall behind or get swept away. He quickly pushes through to the kitchen, finding a spot next to the counter covered in various bottles of cheap alcohol and stacks of red solo cups dispersed in between.

“You want one?” Jaemin asks, extending a shot of vodka he just poured out towards you, and you shake your head before he gives a wry smile. “You sure? It’ll help with the nerves. You were shaking back there.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “You noticed?”

“Everybody noticed,” he snorted, handing you the cup, and you wince slightly before holding your nose and downing it in one go. “Give me another then.”

“Atta girl,” Jaemin hands you another shot and you take that one just as quickly, making a face that causes him to smile subconsciously. As he pours himself a cup of beer, he spots Donghyuck by the pool out back, and a knot settles in his stomach uncomfortably. He almost doesn’t want to tell you, and he doesn’t know why. It’s just because he worked so hard to make you look this good, and his loudmouth friend gets to reap all the benefits, he tells himself, taking a swig of his drink, Donghyuck doesn’t know how lucky he is.

Ignoring all the stop signs and whistles going off in his head, he gestures towards Donghyuck outside, clenching the red cup in his hand a little tighter than normal. “There’s your chance. Gotta do it before the alcohol wears off.”

“Oh, um, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” you stammer out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear again (It’s one of your habits when you’re nervous, and he thinks it might be his favorite). He pushes down the growing knot in his stomach.

“We’ll talk later, yeah? You can’t miss this,” Jaemin insists before nudging you in the direction of the pool outside despite your soft protests.

“W-wait, I  jus—” you say desperately, but Jaemin merely waves you off before disappearing back into the party inside. You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him after all the effort he put in these past four weeks.

You’ll tell him later.

—

“Oh? Where’s your little Barbie doll, Jaemin?” Karina simpers as she lazily taps her pretty manicured nails against the half filled red solo cup in her other hand when Jaemin returns to his original spot. “Have you gotten bored of playing with her yet?”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin answers hotly, “She’s… fun. She makes me laugh.”

“How? By looking at her?” Yeonjun snorts, chugging his own cup before crinkling it in his fist. Jaemin wants to throw up. “We thought you just did this because you’ve been having a dry spell and were bored. Where is she anyway?

 “She’s talking to Hyuck right now,” Jaemin mumbles meekly, shoulders slightly hunched over as he stares into the depths of his own solo cup.

“Really? I mean, is she even his type?” Lia asks skeptically, straightening up in her spot to see if she can spot you or Donghyuck anywhere. “If anything, I thought her friend—the pretty English major one—would be his type. How is she anyone’s type?”

“Hey, he turned her from a four to a solid eight. She might even go up half a point once you introduce her to an exercise and diet plan.” Karina says offhandedly, raising her cup towards him in mock salute before taking a sip.

“Yeah, how are you going to do that? It’s not like you can even sugarcoat it for her because then she’d eat it too,” Yeonjun throws out with a smirk, and Jaemin feels sick to his stomach, the nauseating feeling growing exponentially and gnawing at him as his friend continues, “I mean she’s probably already on the seafood diet because she sees any food and just eats it. How can you even stand her, Jae? The way she just follows you around like a puppy. Isn’t it annoying?”

“God, I know, the way she basically chases after us like a lap dog is so pathetic. At least she takes good insta pics for us though, so she’s somewhat useful. But we had that one really good group photo at that last party, and she totally ruined the picture. You can’t even crop her out because she had to stand next to you, Jae,” Lia complains, rolling her eyes, and Karina laughs, taking out her phone and scrolling through her photos.

“Oh my god, I know  the exact photo you’re talking about. It’s this one, right? She practically threw herself into your arms,” She flashes her screen towards the group, and Jaemin wants to shrink and crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was it the best photo of you? No. Was it the worst? Maybe close to it. You’re standing sideways and still taking up more space in the photo than the others, and the flash photography did not do any favors for you. You stand out even worse than Will Smith in the sunflower costume meme. He cringes inwardly, noting the way your skirt had rolled up and you’re smiling a little too widely. He makes a mental note to help you practice  better, more flattering poses later on.

“You know that famous baby hippo? Moo Deng? I think we found her twin from the future,” Yeonjun barks out a laugh, reaching over and zooming in on you as Karina smirks before putting away her phone. Lia giggles and glances over at Jaemin, scrutinizing his reaction before a sly expression makes an appearance on her face, saying coyly, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

Jaemin flushes, embarrassment coating his cheeks, and he immediately snaps, “Shut up, I might be lonely, but I’m not despera—”

“Oh, Y/N!” Lia says loudly, effectively cutting Jaemin short. “How did it go? Are you and Hyuck gonna be the new couple on campus?”

Immediately, his heart drops even further to his stomach, and Jaemin whirls around to see you standing a few feet away. Did Lia know you were there?  How long were you standing there? Did you hear them? Did you hear every horrible thing they said about you?

“Oh, Donghyuck said he wasn’t interested, but he was nice about it,” you say, offering a vague smile in Jaemin’s direction, and he nearly breathes a sigh of relief as his heart starts to slow back down to its normal rate. A part of him is glad that Donghyuck rejected you, and he nearly misses what you say next, too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling.

“I think I’m going to head back to my dorm. I’m a little tired. Thank you for inviting me.”

With that, you turn away and walk off, but something still doesn’t feel right to Jaemin. It’s a split second decision but for once, he puts his heart over his mind and chases after you, ignoring the increasing whispers from his friends and their eyes searing into his back.

ix. raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by na jaemin.

Jaemin is right on your heels the entire time you walk back to your dorm. All he receives is stony silence from you that he fills with babbling nonsense, asking you what’s wrong to no avail. When you finally enter your dorm, you turn to him at last, and he perks up. However, the two words that come out of your mouth have him deflating faster than Yangyang’s ego when Alice called him a shitty kisser with too much saliva (“You’re supposed to make me wet down there, not up here. Honestly, dude, if I wanted to drown myself, I would’ve jumped into the ocean.”).

“We’re done.”

You decide to bite the bullet.

After freeing your feet from their pointy death contraptions, you peel off each layer of clothing one by one, unzipping the mini skirt and kicking it away before tugging at the spandex, unleashing the breath you’ve been holding in since 8 a.m. to fit into it. There’s still indents marking the dips in your waist and your thighs, a lasting reminder that stays like an embarrassing stain. You fling that abhorrent piece of elastic elsewhere, and it falls near the end of your bed, out of sight behind the pile of textbooks you haven’t touched for the past three days.

“Hold on, what are you talking about? We made so much progress. You wanted to do this,” Jaemin protests, following after you and picking up the discarded garments you threw haphazardly. He waves around the skirt like a white flag. “You wanted to be in the popular crowd, and you got it. You’re this close to dating Hyuck. Yeah, he might’ve said no now, but we’ll come up with a new plan—You can bounce back from this! Why are you quitting now?”

Removing the off-the-shoulder pink top that restricts your arm movement, you quickly slip on an oversized sweater before reaching back and unhooking the strapless bra whose underwire has been digging into your ribs for so many hours, a sigh of relief escaping between your teeth. You toss it onto your chair without another care in the world, and it lands next to the shirt in a heap.

“Because this isn’t me. This isn’t what I like.”

“Of course, it is. This is still you: just new and improved,” he insists, frantically attempting to hand you your discarded shirt and pleather skirt. You ignore them, opting to pull out and put on your favorite pair of stretched out gym shorts from middle school that you had shoved in the back of your closet to make room for all the flashy clothing Jaemin picked out for you. “We’re having fun. You’re popular and pretty now. You’re almost dating Donghyuck. You have everything that everyone wants. You’re the girl the boys want to be with, the girl all the other girls want to be.”

You shake your head, reaching for the packet of makeup wipes near your sink. “It’s not what I want.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. What are you talking about? This is what you asked me to do.”

You throw him a scathing glare, and he takes a step back. “God, Jaemin, for once in your life, take off the stupid rose colored heart shades, and you’ll finally see all the red flags around you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaemin asks defensively. He thought everything was going according to plan; he’s going to pass macroeconomics, and you got to talk to Donghyuck and are this close to scoring a date with him. People notice you wherever you go, the two of you receive compliments, his friends like you, everyone likes you.

“I have to pretend to like things I hate and hate the things I like. I have to do things a certain way, act a certain way, pretend this is all effortless. I don’t know if people are being genuine or pretending like I am. I hate this—this fake version of me.” You spit the words out like fuel to a fire, and you stand there in all your blazing glory, ugly uniform shorts and all.

“My thighs keep chafing. My feet have blisters everyday from these boots. This foundation makes me break out even more, and I can’t type up my notes in class or write fast enough because of these nails, and my grades almost took a plunge. I’m basically freezing my tits off out there in a shirt I don’t like. The lashes make my eyes itch, and this skirt is so short that I have to keep pulling it down every five seconds before I end up flashing someone.”

You don’t recognize the girl in your mirror anymore. You pluck off the falsies lining your eyes, scrubbing furiously at the layers of expensive brand name makeup covering your skin.  You wipe off every inch of it until your bare face stares back at you, slightly puffy, blemishes, faded acne scars and all. You feel like you can breathe a little better now.

“Did you really think it’s easy being one of us? Do you think people will notice you if you show up in sweats with Cheetos stains?” Jaemin stares at you incredulously. “This is how it is. I don’t get why you’re throwing it all away like this.”

“And yet, you were all for it when I threw away everything before.”

“Because you asked for it! You asked me to—to make you into someone Donghyuck would date!”

“You don’t get it.” You whirl around on your heels to face him instead of the mirror, and the anger and intensity laced in your voice nearly blows him away. “I like myself the way I am. I never hated myself. I may be insecure about how I look sometimes, but who isn’t? Yeah, I like wearing cherry lip gloss and mascara sometimes. It’s fun trying out new hairstyles and clothes and learning to do better makeup. I like getting dressed up for special occasions. I like doing these things on my own terms. But this? What I’m doing to myself right now? This isn’t the same. Am I supposed to keep up this charade for the rest of my life? If I do eventually go out with Donghyuck, am I gonna have to keep lying to him? To everyone? I want people to like me for me. To actually know me.”

“If this is how you feel, then why would you keep doing this?! If you hate it so much, then why?” He’s frustrated, carding his fingers through his hair as he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re angry over this. You look gorgeous, so what’s the problem?

“Because I liked spending time with you!” you burst out, “I never liked Donghyuck—I liked you. I wanted it to be you. It was fun at first, I did like it at first, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I can’t be friends with someone who’s ashamed of me.”

There’s a jolt in his heart when he hears your confession, but the second jolt comes quickly afterwards at your last words. Denial is the first stage of grief, and he pales at your final declaration. “What are you talking about? This whole thing is so that Dongh—”

“Oh, please. You can drop the act. This isn’t about Donghyuck anymore. This is about you being too embarrassed to be seen with someone who doesn’t fit your aesthetics.” You air quote the last word for emphasis, and his jaw tightens at that. “You’d rather drop dead than go out with a four like me, right?” You smile sardonically at him. “I may be a four on a seafood diet, but my ears work perfectly fine, Jaemin.”

You heard it all, and Jaemin feels like he is going to throw up. All he can do is scramble and grasp for the last remaining straws, protesting vehemently, “I wasn’t the one who said any of that!”

You laugh humorlessly, “Is that supposed to make it better? You’re better than them because you didn’t say it out loud? You didn’t deny it or defend me either, so what’s your point? 

His mouth goes dry, and he opens and shuts it several times. Swallowing harshly, he barely manages to croak out a weak reply. “That’s— I didn’t mean—I only really thought that before I knew you.”

“And that’s just it, isn’t it? You already judged me before you even knew me based on how I look. Even now, you still judge me.” He starts to open his mouth again, but you merely shrug as if you’ve accepted this for all your life, and he closes it meekly, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, unable to meet your eyes

“That’s okay. I’m used to it. That’s how it is for people like me. I know I’m not someone people fall head over heels for immediately. I’m the one who reaches out to people first. Guys don’t fall over at my feet, wanting to carry my books to class for me. The pretty girls ask me to take their Insta pictures for them. I don’t get free drinks at the bar or invited to all the parties. I’ve never been asked out by a total stranger, and no one writes their number on my cup of coffee,” you say matter-of-factly, a resigned smile on your face, and it has him curling into himself internally, his conscience slowly eating away at him.

“And you know what?” you continue, “That's life. That’s okay because I’m happy with who I am. I like who I am. If I have to give myself up to get Donghyuck or you to like me, then he’s—you—are not the one. I shouldn’t change who I am for a boy—or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not—We were doing this for you. You wanted… you wanted this makeover. You wanted this.” He’s desperately clutching onto the end of the rope, and you’re holding the scissors to cut it off. You show him another half smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It stopped being about me. It started being about what you wanted, what you liked, what you wanted me to be. I was your charity case, your little Barbie doll.”

You tilt your head to the side, studying the boy in front of you and he silently squirms under your scrutiny. “Tell me one thing, and be honest. Did you even know I existed before Donghyuck mentioned me as a tutoring option? Before you needed me for a grade booster? Would you have liked me then?”

Would you have liked me then? Your question echoes in his mind, and Jaemin freezes, dropping the clothes in his hands. You know. You know he likes you, and the embarrassment creeps up on him in the form of carmine dusting his ears and cheeks, like spilled wine on white linen.

“There are over one hundred students in the class,” he objects. “Sorry for not fighting my way through all of them to find you and have a crush on you sooner.”

Jaemin seems to not realize that he just confirmed his feelings for you aloud, and perhaps, if he had told you this a few weeks ago, you would have been ecstatic and called up Lana and Moon the second he was out of earshot. But this is now, and you’ve grown exponentially since then.

You give him a wistful smile, and as the dread piles up in the pit of his stomach, he knows this is the start of his downfall (or perhaps, he’s already been falling this entire time). He slipped from the pedestal already long ago, and it’s only a matter of time before he hits rock bottom. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall from grace.

“I sat in front of you diagonally. You asked me to pass notes to my friend. You know, the girl who sat next to me? Alice? The one you asked out and went on a few dates with at the beginning of the semester?” You state the facts calmly, and his eyes widen at that. “It’s okay. But you must’ve remembered that we were in the same group for a presentation last semester, right?”

Jaemin stays silent, and you have your answer. It’s one you’ve known deep down in your heart all this time, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. After all, someone can announce they’re going to punch you, you can even see the strike coming to your gut, but simply knowing doesn’t do anything to ease the painful aftermath.

You chuckle humorlessly, fingers uncurling and recurling into fists as your nails press moon shaped crescents into your palms before you look him straight in the eyes. “I don’t fit into your cookie cutter life or match your rose colored Instagram filters. I don’t have the perfect model figure or the perfect face. I don’t look like the girl of your dreams, and I know that it just fucking kills you inside that you fell in love with me.”

Jaemin flinches, curling in on himself when he finally meets your gaze and finally sees the absolute hell fires of fury and repugnance ablaze in your eyes. You know that he loves you, and he’s ashamed that you’re right. You’re absolutely right.

Why is he so afraid of loving you?

He loves how smart you are, how witty you are, how funny you are, how genuine you are, how you understand every obscure Haikyuu!! reference he makes, how you laugh at his jokes, how you dm him the funniest memes on Instagram, how you wear your purple scrunchie around your wrist during every exam for good luck and how you let him borrow it too. He loves how you treat him as more than just a pretty face, how you actually listen to him and make him feel like what he says matters, how you make him feel different—special—like he doesn’t have to compete with all the other Barbies and Kens out there. He’s much too vain, much too superficial, much too selfish, much too proud to admit it out loud, but he’s in love with you, and yet, he can’t bring himself to love every single part of you.

And the truth of that matter is the ugliest of all.

But there are standards that he has to uphold, why can’t you understand this? He lowered his standards for you, and you still couldn’t meet them. You have the personality already, you are this close to being the ideal girl, and well, you both have to make changes. It’s the prince and princess who live happily ever after, not the prince and the pauper, or god forbid, the ogre (No offense, Shrek). This is real life, and society has unspoken rules. He sacrificed so much for you, he put his reputation on the line, so why couldn’t you do this for him? After all, love always has some sacrifices.

Right?

But when Jaemin looks at you now, there’s everything, but love staring back at him. You look at him like he’s a repulsive piece of chewed gum stubbornly stuck to the bottom of your Steve Madden heel. It strikes a nerve and completely eats him to the core, but he pulls himself upright because nobody talks to him like that, nobody looks at him like that, certainly not someone like you. He invented you, he made you into the next Princess Mia, the next Cady Heron, the next Serena van der Woodsen, and this is how you show your gratitude?

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. You act like I’m the first person to judge first based on looks. Everyone does it. Am I supposed to strike up a conversation with every girl on the off chance she’s everything I want? Do you think anyone would fall for you immediately when you looked like that?  The saying is ‘love at first sight’, unless you’re one to believe in the whole ‘love is blind’ idea, which you clearly do,” Jaemin snaps, sneering as he eyes you up and down. His heart and mind are screaming, crying, begging for him to stop, but his pride dropkicks him headfirst into the hole he dug for himself, raging for him to get the upper hand again.

“How is it my fault for not knowing you’re the whole package when the wrapping doesn’t match the contents?”

The unfiltered words slip out of his mouth, and he immediately regrets it, closing his eyes, but it’s too late. He sees the instant look of devastation that appears on your face, and it hits him like a boxer’s punch to the chest. He starts to backtrack to no avail. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

“I am never going to be enough for you, am I?” you whisper, your breaths stuttering in your chest as your initial sarcasm turns into quiet truths now that eat away at him. “I’m either too much or too little. There’s always going to be something you’ll want to change, something you want to fix.”

“Y/N… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was an accident. I just—”

Jaemin can’t continue on, his voice trailing off as he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to keep apologizing, he’ll do anything it takes to take back what he just said, but the damage has already been dealt. He’s always known he’s an asshole, sure, but this is beyond anything he’s ever said or done in the past. He just secured the seat of honor in Dante's ninth circle of hell, and there’s no return ticket.

“You just what? You thought it would be okay to say anything to my face just because it’s not up to your standards?”

Jaemin’s face pales. “N-no, I—this isn’t how it's supposed to go, I just—It just slipped out, can we start over?” 

A public rejection from any boy or girl would hurt infinitely less than the words Jaemin spat in your face. The things that his friends said before within earshot? You could take it because you couldn’t care less about them at the end of the day. But this? This was coming from someone you trusted, someone you care about, someone you lov—No, you don’t even want to think about that.

Jaemin never loved you. He never even liked you. The harsh reality slaps you like a cold shower in the middle of a winter night, and you want to curl up into a ball under your covers and cry until you fall asleep.

And yet, you will not let him humiliate you any longer. The spell has been broken. Cinderella is back to her rags, and her Prince Charming is nowhere to be found. She’s stuck as a toad that’ll never change. Eyes watering, you inhale sharply, laughing quietly in disbelief before you straighten up and your face hardens.

“Are you actually listening to yourself? You think we can start over? You treat people like they’re disposable, like they’re nothing, and once they don’t match with your theme of the week, you toss them even faster than the time it takes for you to choose an outfit.” Your chest is heaving, and the tears threaten to fall, but you push on, swallowing the lump in your throat. He reaches out for you, and you take a step back, shaking your head.

“You can’t hurt people and expect them to just let it go. I get it, I know I’m not the thinnest, or the nicest, or the funniest, or the smartest, or the prettiest. I know that I’m hard to love. I get it, Jaemin. I’ve always known that.”

You choke on the last sentence, swallowing hard to stifle the hiccup that bubbles up in your throat. “But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit.”

Rapidly blinking back your tears, you march over to your door and throw it open with such force that the doorknob could have left a dent in the wall. You don’t want to cry, you’ve always been an angry crier, and you desperately want the tears to stop. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry and hearing your confession. He doesn’t deserve any of that. Jaemin doesn’t deserve your tears, and he certainly doesn’t deserve your love.

“Get out.”

Jaemin stares at you, mouth agape like a fish on land. You gesture heatedly towards the outside, choking slightly. “What are you waiting for? I said get out.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Am I a joke to you?” you quietly ask, and his eyes widen.

“No! No, Y/N, you’re not, I jus—”

A single tear manages to escape despite your best, frustrated efforts, and Jaemin instinctively reaches out for you. You swat his hand away, angrily swiping away the stray droplet with the sleeve of your sweater. His heart wrenches in his chest as his hand dangles limply by his side. You’re crying because of him. He caused that, and he feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

You refuse to let any more fall, glaring at him through the unshed tears and entirely disgusted with the boy standing in front of you. “Don’t touch me. I’m not crying for you. I’m crying because I’m so angry I wasted all my time on someone who never cared about me.”

That’s not true—I love you, he wants to say, but his mouth refuses to form the words because his pride won’t loosen its grip on his heart. He loves you, he’s in love with you, why can’t you see that?

You steel yourself, taking one shaky breath before looking pointedly at the door and repeating yourself, “Get out. Leave me alone.”

Numbly, he makes his way over to the door, ears ringing. You glower at him, the intensity searing and digging into the side of his face. When he stands outside of your dorm, he struggles to turn around and face you helplessly. Your eyes soften for a moment, and it shoves the dagger deeper into his chest when he recognizes that look. It’s the same look he wore when he first saw you, and the shame that emerges nearly chokes him. The mixture of pity and disappointment painted across your face revolts him entirely, and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Jaemin is utterly humiliated.

Your gaze intensifies once more when you stand up to your full height, stare unwavering and chin raised up. Gripping the doorframe tightly, you drive the final words into his heart like a stake.

“I am too good for you, Jaemin, and I will never love someone like you. I deserve better.”

And for a split second, you almost convinced yourself when you said that.

You shut the door in his face.

Jaemin calls your name through the door several times, desperation ringing clear in his tone, but it falls on deaf ears. Apologies are a fool’s best friend, and you’d be a fool yourself to believe them. Holding your breath, you wait until you hear his footsteps echo down the hallway, until the solitude greets you like an old friend. And at last, you drop the facade and let yourself cry. Back pressed against the door and head bowed, you finally let go until all the tears are gone and you’re gasping for breath, the quiet hiccups and sobs bursting forth and breaking the silence in the same way he broke your heart over and over again.

You love him.

There’s no one to blame, but yourself. In the end, it’s all your fault that you were in this mess. How can you be so stupid? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it would still be a pig. Built up insecurities will bubble up to the surface no matter how much mascara and blush you apply. The warning signs were all there in flashing technicolor, but they were all tied up with shiny ribbons and deceiving perfect smiles. They lit up your usual drab life of blacks, whites, and grays, and you were blinded by the glitz and glamor— blinded by him. It is hard to see the red flags and stop signs through the rose colored Instagram filters. You trusted him and gave him your heart when you should’ve known it’d end like this. 

You got greedy and tried to steal the spotlight, and you received it, front and center. You are the joke. You are the punchline, the comedic relief, the center stage of a slapstick comedy show. This is what you get for going off script.

Because you love him.

You were supposed to continue to delude yourself into thinking that you don’t want to find love, that you enjoy being on your own, that you enjoy being single, that you are perfectly content with never experiencing romance instead of facing the cold harsh reality head on: no one sees you as desirable or dateable. And when your friends tell you that you’re not missing out on anything with dating, you were supposed to nod and agree, when secretly, you desperately wish you can experience that for yourself instead of living vicariously through your friends’ love lives or the 3 a.m. scrollings through cheesy romance fanfiction on Tumblr. You’re been fine all these years, haven’t you? You were doing so well living on your own.

But you love him.

It’ll come when you least expect it, that’s what they tell you every time, but what are you to do when you can’t help but expect it your whole life? What are you to do when you so desperately want to know what it feels like to be loved in that way? God, when is it going to be your turn? When is it your turn to daydream about someone and know that they’re daydreaming about you too? When is it your turn to have someone walk you home? When is it your turn to hold hands with someone? When is it your turn to feel the giddy butterflies and experience a good night kiss? When is it your turn to be kissed in the rain? When is it your turn to experience the romance you can only dream about?

How much longer will you have to be patient? How much longer do you have to wait, living in denial over the soul crushing reality of it all? How many more stars do you need to wish upon until you learn to accept the painstaking truth? You weren’t meant to be loved in this lifetime.

God, you love him.

It’s embarrassing when it shouldn’t be. You just want to be touched by hands that care, loved by a heart that beats for you, desired by someone who thinks you are enough. It’s the way you would give up ten years of your life in a heartbeat to experience being the prettiest girl in the room just once and have people look at you. The overwhelming shame washes over you when you never had your first kiss until now with a boy who never cared about you, never went on a date before, never had a boyfriend before, and you have to lie and say it’s by choice when it’s not. It’s not. You have so much love to give, you have so much space in your life to share, you have so much time to spend with that special someone, but the grains of the hourglass are spent waiting and longing for a stranger who will never come. 

The thought of it all just makes you sick. It makes you sick that you wish so terribly that someone would just look in your direction for once. For once, you want to be looked at in that way like all the female protagonists experience in the movies. And you know your value shouldn’t be based on desire and objectification, you absolutely know it, but it still hurts when you go out with your friends and you’re the one dancing alone or sitting back and watching the purses. You’re the one standing there by yourself, while every single one of your pretty friends is being approached by someone. It still hurts so fucking bad when you try to put yourself out there, but guys have already moved past you or don’t even acknowledge your existence simply because of your face or a number on a scale. And when he came into your life and gave you one measly ounce of attention, you ran with it when you should have run away. It’s absolutely exhausting, leaving you out of breath and on the verge of throwing up, to chase after someone who never even looked at you, to chase after their attention, praying to god that they’ll one day make you feel like you are worth it, that you’ll finally feel some sort of value.

Forget ever being loved, you weren’t even wanted.

There is no such thing as happily ever after’s for the extras. Girls like you don’t get to star in love stories. Why did you ever think it would end differently?

You love him.

And he ruined you. Even worse, you let him.

You wish you never met Na Jaemin.

x. i can’t go out tonight. *fake coughs* i’m sick.

You would like to give a formal apology to Bella Swan for not understanding why she was so depressed over Edward leaving her for six months and making fun of her. In your defense, you were like nine years old when the movie came out, and you were more interested in Barbies back then (Plus, you were Team Jacob because you wanted a pet dog at the time).

You didn’t even go through a break up, but it sure as hell feels like one.

You probably would continue to wallow in your misery for weeks, clutching onto the only two men you could ever trust in your entire life: Ben and Jerry’s while watching every iconic 90s and early 2000s rom-coms on repeat if it weren’t for your best friends. But enough is enough, and you get that you shouldn’t be spending weeks crying over a boy who hasn’t even spent one second thinking about you. It’s just hard to take that first step back up again when you feel like you tripped and fell all the way down to rock bottom.

And so, you finally let your friends into your shared dorm room, and you definitely do not miss the poorly disguised look of disgust and shock when they see the giant mess on your side of the room (You’re very grateful that Giselle has been staying at her boyfriend’s place for weeks now). It’s an intervention at this point—one that you desperately need, and you know it.

“Okay, give it to me straight,” you sniffle, still wrapped up in your comforter like a giant burrito and clutching onto the ice cream carton like a lifeline. You know that your friends will just rip it off like a bandage, and you have mentally prepared yourself for it. Your voice comes out wobbly still from the tears, and you hate it. “I know I was stupid for letting a guy walk all over me like that. I know if any of you were in this situation, I’d tell you that you’re better than that and to get over him, but it’s just so hard to do it.”

“He who shall not be named is a scumbag, and I’m gonna kill him the next time I see him,” Lana states, pursing her lips together. “I hope he has a bad hair day every single day because I know he’d be screaming, crying, throwing up if he could never get a perfect selfie ever again.”

You choke back a sob, giving her a watery smile. “That would destroy him.”

“Good. Fuck him. Metaphorically, not literally. Why should you care if you are the girl of his dreams or not? Be the girl of your dreams. You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny and he’s just some guy who still doesn’t know how to use the correct ‘your’ in an Instagram caption.”

You can write down a thousand and one reasons why he was the most horrendous, most awful, most vile person to ever grace your life. But at the end of the day, why does it matter? What good would it do? You still love him, and that’s the worst pill to swallow.

“I just—I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Y/N, if you believed that Jaemin wasn’t a shitbag for the past four weeks and all the time before that in his life, then you can believe in yourself right now for two minutes and listen to me,” Lana says firmly, clutching onto your shoulders and forcing you to look her in the eye as she continues on, “Remember the Barbie movie? He’s just Ken. Ken doesn’t have a good day unless Barbie looks at him.”

“Yeah, like channel your inner Gina Linetti. Listen to Chelsea Peretti. ‘Men used to hunt.’ What’s Jaemin doing? He’s pushing twenty and doing aegyo on camera,” Moon chimes in, and Lana nods furiously in agreement before elbowing Yangyang in his rib not-so-subtly. “Contribute to the conversation, Yang.”

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” Yangyang says, pausing in the middle of your room and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh congrats, I didn’t know you could do that. But stop because you’re not good at it at all,” Moon says, completely ignoring the dirty look he throws at her immediately. The little exchange brings a small smile to your face and it feels nice to laugh. You’ve forgotten how to do that. You miss your friends. You’re grateful for them for not giving up on you when you already have.

“Come on, let’s go see ‘Crazy Rich Asians.’ It’ll be fun. We can watch Lana fangirl over seeing her favorite actor,” Moon encourages you, and Yangyang nods in agreement. “Yeah, she picked a better man after the Jaehyun fiasco.”

“Oh my god, let it go. I didn’t like him that much,” Lana huffs softly, grabbing one of your spare pillows and launching it square into his face in retaliation, and he lets out out a high pitched shriek that makes you giggle.

“Weren’t you gonna go see it with your best friend, Yang?” You ask, glancing over at him and he shakes his head, a slightly sour expression on his face. “Nah, she’s going with Dejun already.”

“So unfortunately, we’re stuck with him now,” Moon says solemnly as Yangyang immediately throws her a dirty look. The look on his face makes you laugh, and it makes you feel a little better and your heart a little lighter.

You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you; the right person will never make you beg. The right person would never chip away at you, erasing different parts of you, until you fit their picture perfect mold, until there’s nothing left of you. You would never have to call your friends at 4 am, drunk and crying for their validation, praying to whatever higher being is up there for them to take you back. Your friends have never looked at the scars and freckles dotting your skin and suddenly deemed you as unlovable. Your best friend wouldn’t call you fat and point out every single one of your insecurities. You are not unlovable because you decided to eat a third taco or decided to not wear makeup today or didn’t shave your legs. You may fight with your parents and siblings, but never once have you felt unloved by them. Never once did you have to get on your knees and plead for them to love you back.

You know you are worthy of love because your friends and family make it look so easy. They have shown you what love is really like time and time again. You’ve been a shitty friend these past few months, prioritizing a boy over the ones who really matter. They’ve been so patient with you this entire time, and with an open heart, you realize that it is time you finally start properly loving them and yourself too.

You are loved.

xi. that’s so not fetch!

Jaemin slinks out of the lecture hall, noting the dirty looks your friends have sent him from the other side of the room. He’s been standing outside of the classroom before the session starts for the past few weeks in hopes of catching you, looking like a complete creep (and definitely feeling like one).  But what’s he to do when you wouldn’t return any of his texts or calls? It’s humiliating, and he feels smaller than an ant under a microscope.

He pretends to leave class early, staking out in the bathroom across from the classroom. Counting down the minutes, he sees the first wave of students pouring out from the classrooms and finally spots you. His heart jumps to his throat, and his hands begin to grow clammy.

You’re back to wearing your loose jeans and basic t-shirts, your favorite purple scrunchie wrapped around your wrist and an old Jansport backpack slung over your shoulder, decorated with pins of all those familiar characters from his favorite anime. Your face is bare, aside from tinted lip balm, and you’re smiling. You’re laughing at something your friend next to you says, and with a sinking heart, Jaemin realizes that perhaps maybe you are pretty in the slightest way.

He finds himself taking one step towards you, then another, maneuvering around the other students rushing to leave. He’s getting closer and closer, if he called out your name, you would hear him. But you wouldn’t stop for him this time. He knows that.

Jaemin is getting closer, just a few more steps until he can just stretch his hand out and tap your shoulder, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest until a pretty manicured hand grabs his upper arm lightly.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” 

He pauses, turning around and seeing Somi staring back at him in surprise as she continues, “I thought you don’t have any classes at this time.”

“Yeah, I—” he hesitates, glancing over at your retreating figure and Somi follows his gaze, her eyes softening as she lets go of his arm.

“Oh, were you waiting for her? Sorry about that,” she apologizes, pulling away and he shakes his head, shrinking back. Maybe it was for the better that you got away. It’s probably a sign from the universe telling him to let it go.

“No, it’s okay. She doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,” Jaemin admits at last, starting to slink off, and Somi furrows her eyebrows, a puzzled expression gracing her face as she hurries slightly to catch up with him, matching his pace. He exits the building, crushing the graded economics midterm with a red 89 circled at the top in his fist and shoving it haphazardly into the side pocket of his backpack usually reserved for his water bottle.

“What are you talking about? The two of you are practically glued at the hip. She adores you,” she laughs softly, tilting her head slightly as she glances over at him. He ignores her look, continuing on his way off of campus and towards his safe haven: a small dog friendly boba shop snug in between a bookstore and a 24 hour laundromat he frequents more often than he likes to admit.

 “I honestly thought you’d ask her out at some point.”

Jaemin winces at that, her light response rubbing salt into his open wounds, stitches torn and bleeding, and he spits out the next words defensively, his pride rearing its ugly head again. “No way. I never liked her like that. She’s not my type at all. Have you seen her?”

“What is wrong with you?” Somi frowns at him, stopping in her tracks, and he halts, unable to look at her and throwing out a dismissive “What?” In her direction.

“Why are you talking about her like that? I thought you liked her,” she answers, staring at him in disbelief, and he curls his fingers into fists, gripping tightly as a multitude of conflicting emotions war inside of him. He starts to walk again, barely glancing over at Somi.

“She was just my tutor. I passed my midterm, so I don’t need to be around her anymore.” He responds weakly, uncurling and recurling his fingers into fists as he desperately tries to stay calm.

It was so much easier to pretend around his other friends. Aside from Jeno, they always took his words at face value, never one to pry. And Jeno would never push him, knowing that he would eventually come to him at his own pace. But Somi? He’s forgotten about how she can be after she’s been so busy with her schedule, missing out from the majority of hang outs for her social work and events, and their class schedules never overlapped. She can spot a lie a mile away. She actually cares. In a way, she reminds him of you, and he can’t bear to meet her gaze anymore.

“She’s your friend,” Somi retorts, following him into the boba shop, briefly stopping to pet the adorable Samoyed wagging its tail near the entrance. “You spent more time with her than any of us, except maybe Jeno. And you weren’t just studying in the library. I’ve seen her on your finsta and close friend stories.”

“Okay, and now she’s not. She’s not my friend anymore,” Jaemin answers sharply, punching his order into the self service machine. “It happens. People stop being friends. So back off, Somi.”

“Jeez, what is your problem?” she snaps back, following him towards the back, settling on a pillow in one of the comfortable nooks converted into a small seating area across from him. “I caught you following Y/N, and now you say you’re not friends?”

Jaemin hesitates, fiddling with one of the decorative pillows in his lap. “We got into an argument.”

“Yeah, but friends fight. You can apologize, right?”

Jaemin is silent.

Somi stares at him, and he wants to curl into himself. It’s the very same look you gave him before you shut the door in his face, and he feels the bile in his throat already. Her voice is quiet. “Jaemin, what did you do?”

“I—,” he whispers, breaking off and clenching his fists. He is already replaying that moment in his head, seeing the look of utter devastation on your face, and he wants to run away. The ugly truth is front and center, and he is unable to ignore it any longer.

 “I fucked up, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Jaemin bursts out, burying his face in his hands and unable to face his friend. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “I said some shitty things to her, some really fucked up stuff.”

“Like fucked up as in messy drunk thoughts or fucked up, fucked up?” Somi says softly, hesitantly, as if she doesn’t want to believe her friend is the worst of the worst. Jaemin’s heart sinks even lower than rock bottom as he continues to hang his head low.

“I…” Jaemin’s voice is less than a whisper as he finally confesses the horrible truth to someone for the first time. His voice cracks as he recalls every single disgusting thing and insecurity he flung back into your face.

“I said that it would be stupid for her to believe in love at first sight, that she wasn’t up to my standards, that it’s her fault, that I was ashamed of her, ashamed that I even liked her because of the way she looked.”

The silence is deafening, and Jaemin feels the same wave of humiliation wash over him as it did on that very night. Somi is speechless, and he can’t bear to look at her, one hundred percent knowing that there would be a raw look of utter disgust and horror on her face because that is the exact way he would look at himself. He sits there in silence as the guilt and shame pile up even higher; he is past the point of wallowing in self pity, already drowning and gasping for breath.

“Jaemin… she was your friend,” she murmurs, gazing at him, mouth agape as the shock finally settles in, and he flinches slightly at the past tense. “She actually cared about you. She made you happy.”

“I know,” he says softly.

“She was the best thing that ever happened to you.” Somi continues quietly.

Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. “I know.”

“Then why?”

Because I was stupid, he thinks silently, Because I am a coward. Because she embarrassed me. She made me feel small. She made me feel insignificant. She made me look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, I absolutely hated what I saw staring back at me.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin whispers, staring down at his lap in resignation and unable to swallow the truth.

He knows.

xii. you can’t sit with us.

You continue to avoid Jaemin in Macroeconomics, choosing to slip into class at the very last minute. You see him waiting in front of the classroom every session for the past three weeks, searching for you, but you opt to go to the professor’s office hours every time before class and end up walking with her to class as she answers your questions about the assigned readings and problems. Alice saves you a seat in the front row, and you never told her but you’re grateful when you realize she must have asked her other friends to sit around the two of you, effectively barricading Jaemin from any attempt at sitting next to you. Finals week comes and goes with  the winter break following suit, and you think he has finally given up on any attempt at reaching you.

But life has an unfortunate penchant for bringing up things—or people—you wish to forget when you least expect it. It was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday four weeks into the spring semester, and you’re exiting your last class of the day, tucking your laptop into the cute tote bag you bought from the New York Strands bookstore as you walk across campus.

“Y/N.” Jaemin appears in front of you, and suddenly, all the air in your lungs seem to have been sucked out. It’s almost embarrassing how two months of self progress can be toppled over as easily as a house of cards. Your brain says to hate him, but one glance at him still has you weak in the knees. You take a deep breath, counting to three before walking around and ignoring him entirely.

“Please, can we just talk for five minutes? I’m sorry.” He desperately reaches out for you, and you can see some people starting to take note of the two of you, their gazes on your back.

“Leave me alone, Jaemin.” You continue to walk away, hiking up the strap of your bag higher over your shoulder, desperately trying to quell the stupid colony of butterflies in your stomach that have laid dormant for so long. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, just five minutes—three minutes—and I’ll leave you alone forever. Listen to me,” he says in a quiet tone. It was an order, a request, and a plea all at once.

You pause, scrutinizing him for a few moments before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from prying eyes. You stop on the secluded side of the building underneath the magnolia trees before dropping his hand. “You have two minutes. Talk.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Good to know you’re self aware. You’re finally experiencing some character growth.”

Jaemin grimaces at your stony expression. “Okay, that was deserved. I truly am sorry, Y/N. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and I’m an asshole who took advantage of you. You do deserve better. You deserve someone better than me. But I want to be that person. You make me a better person.”

You stay quiet, and Jaemin fidgets around. “Is that… is that okay? I know it’s selfish of me, but—”

“You’re right, that is selfish of you.”

Jaemin falls silent at that, face flushing before he speaks up meekly, “Can’t we start over? Try again?”

In that moment, you truly pity the boy in front of you. The lost expression on his face tells it all as he desperately clutches onto whatever lifeline you’re willing to toss out. But he’s causing you to drown, and you need to cut the cord and put yourself first for once. Maybe you can change him. But you can’t do this to yourself again.

You take a deep breath and pinch yourself, reminding yourself that this is the same boy who broke your heart because it wasn’t pretty enough for him. “There is no trying again. You never tried, and I’m done trying for you. Jaemin, you don’t love me. You’ve never felt that way towards me.”

“Yes, I have! I do! I really do,” he protests, and you shake your head, taking a step back. He starts to take one step forward towards you and hesitates, staying in his original spot. Your gaze is cold, and he finds himself wishing that you would look at him in the way you used to.

“You love the idea of me: the one you built up in your head,” you say, tone growing quiet. “But I’m nothing like her. To some degree, I think I might be the first genuine connection you ever made with a girl. You liked the way I felt about you and how I acted for you. I changed everything about myself for you, I would’ve followed you anywhere, I would’ve done anything for you, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of the fact that I love you.”

You may not truly know what love is, but you know it’s something he never gave you. It stings, knowing that even after all of this, you still secretly, desperately long for the type of love you know will always be out of your reach. A part of you wants to believe him, but this time, you listen to your mind instead of your heart.

Jaemin’s head shoots up at your confession, eyes widening in belated realization, and you curl your lips inward, biting your lower lip. You love him. You love him, he now knows, and to your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Three steps forward and two steps back is still one step in the right direction.

“One day, you’re gonna find someone who’s finally enough for you—someone who’s worth making pancakes for,” you say wistfully, pausing for a minute before gathering the courage to continue.

“And you’re gonna fall in love with them. Like really love them. You’re gonna love them so much that you’ll try your hardest to be enough for them. You’re gonna try so fucking hard to be the one they want, the one they love, that you’ll do anything for them. You’ll even change yourself for better—or for worse.” You grip the strap of your tote bag even tighter, a dull pang in your heart making its appearance, and Jaemin winces, lowering his eyes as the regret and guilt pools into his stomach.

“But sometimes, it won’t be enough. It’s not going to be enough,” you continue, swallowing hard. “And it’ll never be enough for them. You’re willing to move heaven and earth for them, but they won’t notice. Or maybe they don’t even care. No matter how hard you try to love them, it won’t matter unless they want you. Unless they choose you.  And it’ll hurt like hell. It’ll hurt every single time you see them, every time you hear them, every time you think of them.”

Your voice softens, shaking slightly as you take in a wavering breath before pushing forward. “And when it hurts, you’re going to think of me. You’re going to remember me because that’s when you’ll understand what it feels like. That’s when you’ll know how I felt. How it feels to not be enough. How it feels to have your heart ripped to shreds by someone you care about—someone you love.”

His heart drops, and you give him a wistful smile before it quickly disappears, and your expression schools into one of indifference. You continue to walk forward confidently, brushing past his frozen figure. You see your friends waiting for you on the other side of the lawn, and you look over your shoulder at Jaemin one last time, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself.

“And you know what? I hope to fucking god it hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

The world continues to spin, you keep moving forward, and he remains rooted in his spot, unable to look away from you. There are so many Barbies and Kens out there, so many more Na Jaemins who will come into your life and sweep you off your feet, and you’ll make them feel special and more than a pretty face, he belatedly realizes, he’s disposable and so easily replaceable, but there’s only ever going to be one you. 

As he watches you walk away, Jaemin thinks he is starting to understand.

EPILOGUE.

Life likes to play cruel jokes, and the senior year gives you the most hilarious one of all in the form of your final capstone project. Last you heard about Jaemin, he had switched his major to pre med (which was ironic to you since that field would require him to care about other people, which he clearly proved to be incapable of). However, your university decided to implement a cross collaboration between the various schools, and it’s just your luck that you find yourself paired up with Jaemin. Giving him a tight smile as you take a seat across from him in the library room he reserved, you take out your laptop.

Jaemin had asked earlier if you wanted to request a new assigned partner, but you highly doubt any professor would switch up a pairing on account of one person being guilty of being the greatest asshole to ever exist (Plus, you’ll come across many guys like him in your field of work, so you might as well start building up your tolerance now).

It is the final time you will meet up with him before the big presentation, and the two of you work together in silence, only breaking it to discuss the project topic. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled somewhere in between—kind of like a purgatory for relationships. You’ve stopped thinking about him a while ago already, but seeing someone who once was a part of your life always brings back memories, whether wanted or not.

“I met someone.”

Jaemin breaks the ice, unable to hold it back any longer. He feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn't get this off of his chest. There is a slight pause in your writing before you resume, but he knows you are listening.

“I met her after… after our…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what to call it—what the two of you had. An almost relationship. “… After us.”

You continue to write, taking note of several points to be discussed based on your slide. He puts down his pen, clasping his hands together as he fiddles with one of the rings wrapped around his fingers.

“I made her blueberry pancakes.”

You sharply inhale for a brief millisecond before you jot down another bullet point. One, two, three, four, five bullet points until you can breathe normally again. You’re twenty two years old, but you suddenly feel like you’re eighteen again. You sometimes loathed your younger self, but because of her, you learned so many things (Forgiveness is one of them).

“I don’t know what else to do, except keep making her pancakes.” Jaemin sits there idly for a few moments, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil, before he laughs derisively, “She’s in love with my best friend. She never told me, but I can just tell.”

There’s another pause from him. Staring down at his notebook, he swallows hard, the lump in his throat never fully going away. His voice cracks as he whispers out his question:

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

Your pen stops moving across the paper, dropping to the side. There’s a black scribble from where it fell. You still continue to look at the index card, focusing on the college ruled lines until they become a mosaic blur of blue, black, and white.

“Eventually.”

Your tone is impassive, and his head snaps up at your reply. You pick up the pen again. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s staring at you, an unrecognizable expression in his eyes.

Perhaps, it would have been different if you had met the present day him back then instead. Perhaps, it would’ve worked out. Maybe he would have made another girl fall in love with him, broke her heart, and come out unscathed. Or maybe he would still be the same as his past self if he hadn’t met you. It’s the butterfly effect; you don’t know what would have happened, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

By now, you have mourned him for longer than you have loved him.

“Y/N, you were never hard to love. I was bad at loving. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

And this time, you know he truly means it—that Jaemin truly understands. It is good that he has learned and tried to become a better person. You just wish it didn’t have to come at the expense of you.

Your first love teaches you what love isn’t.

The threads holding the pieces of your heart together these past three years have always been so fragile. Just one tug at the heart strings, and everything unravels so easily, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. You’ve nearly forgotten what heartbreak feels like, the old wounds opening up for a long forgotten friend that you had prayed you would never meet again.

You discover that it hurts even more the second time around.

“I wish I fell in love with you back then.”

His tone is forlorn, a silent resolution wrapped in happenstance. You continue to write down more notes for your part of the presentation, the soft scritches of your pen against paper almost masking your quiet response, and Jaemin nearly misses it.

“So did I.”

[doitforbangchan]

ABANB alternate chtp 18 smut scene

Soooo I had written two versions of the Minho smut from Chapter 18. This is the original one I wrote but decided to redo it and went with the softer version for the chapter. 😌

I thought y'all should see what it could have been with mean Minho or as i call him Mean-ho. This was not proofread or edited, it was just a rough draft so it may seem lacking 🫣

chapter 18

Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, sub!reader, Dom!Minho, crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, edging, choking (with hand and a belt), spanking, subspace, biting, blood in mouth, cursing, kissing, light masochism, asphyxiation, begging, mean Minho

WC: 3.5k

You rounded the corner to go to Chan's room to hide away, but before you could open the door a hand grabbed you and wrapped harshly around your neck, and a sturdy chest at your back. Your movements were halted completely as you screamed in fright, your hands coming up to grab the offending hand.  

“So you can listen to me.” 

It was Minho. You were so in your own head you didn’t even sense him nearby. 

“Minho.. What are y-” 

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear any of your fucking snark right now. You’re gonna shut your mouth for once and listen.” His aura was so.. Domineering. Authoritative. It made you instinctively want to obey him. Though you would never tell him that. “Be a good little omega and go to my room. Sit on the bed facing the wall, on your knees. Do you understand?” 

You nodded, not speaking as ordered. His low voice in your ear was making you dizzy. 

“Good. Now go.”

 He dropped his hand from your neck and stepped back from you. He watched as you quickly scurried away and down the hall to his room. Minho dragged his hand down his face and sighed. This is not how he imagined today would go. But sometimes it can’t be helped, you need an attitude check. And he was going to give it to you. 

You went into Minhos room, doing as he commanded and climbing onto his bed sitting on your knees and facing away from the door. Once again it was silent, you could hear nothing but your own breathing. Your nerves were shot. You didn’t know what was to come and it was making you incredibly anxious. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been so rude to him, especially after he stood up for you and got you out of that frightening situation- but you couldn’t help it. Minho was the only person you were testy with, and clearly neither of you understood why. 

Minho stood there at the threshold of his room, observing you as you sat upon his bed and tremored. He moved silently, borderline cat-like, as he crept into the room and stood behind you. You didn't know he had even entered the room yet if not for the sudden clinking of his belt as he slid it through his belt loops and off his pants. You spun your head around quickly, being alerted to his presence by the sound. 

“I didn’t say you could look at me, omega. Turn back around.” He ordered, and you wanted to defy him; to tell him to fuck off but instead you settled for a weak glare then stiffly complied. 

This time he let you hear his footsteps and movements as he crept closer to you and onto the bed. You felt him crawl up until he was directly behind you, his breath on your neck. You were shaking by the time you felt his lips on your shoulder. 

“Mm, such a pretty sight- these marks on your body. The boys did a fine job covering you in their love.” His lips danced across your skin as you sat perfectly still, even going as far as to hold your breath so you wouldn’t move a muscle. “I have no idea why you’d wanna cover them up.” His tongue ran along the darkest hickey that was left on your neck- one from Jeongin the other day. You whimpered at the feeling, tilting your head back even further to grant him access. “Really hurt our feelings.” The last bit came out as a near growl and suddenly he had his belt wrapped around your neck. 

You gasped and grabbed the offending belt, panic beginning to rise. “Minho!” 

“Shut up!” He looped the belt so it turned into a makeshift leash, not enough to choke you just enough to hold you. His hand that wasn’t holding the belt went to the back of your head, shoving it down swiftly into his bed. “Don’t speak until I say you can speak! You’re not in charge right now, little girl. Learn. Your. Fucking. Place.” 

Your hands balled up as you fisted the bedding with your face buried into his pillow and the pure scent of him filling your lungs; seeing as air certainly wasn’t. You were already crying, your tears wetting the pillows. There were so many different emotions running through you; fear, submission, anger.. But the main one was arousal. You could feel your panties dampening against your folds, and it made you embarrassed that Minho could probably smell it. 

The man was still leaning over you, having released your head but still holding his leash. His free hand ran along the back of your thighs and up to your covered ass. His touches weren’t harsh but the smack he delivered was. You yelped but quickly bit your tongue to avoid any more sounds escaping.  He took note of your obedience. Minho grabbed the top hem of your shorts and tugged hard , drawing them down your ass along with your panties and leaving your bottom half bare for him. He held back a moan when he saw the wet strings of your arousal clinging onto the gusset of your underwear. 

Thankfully your face was buried still or he would have surely been able to see how ashamed you felt, knowing he was now able to see you in a way he never has before. You hadn’t felt nearly as emotional when the rest of the pack got to see you intimately though you hadn’t the relationship with them that you’ve had with him- the back and forth, the callus attitudes, the tension. 

You just knew he was behind you sporting the smuggest grin (he was) and it made you furious. Furious at him for the power he held over you and furious at yourself for allowing it to happen. Not just allowing it, but enjoying it. 

He yanked your shorts all the way off of you and threw them on the floor. The smell of your slick was quickly filling the room, seeping into Minho's lungs and making him feel borderline inebriated. He bit his lip as he palmed your ass, squeezing the thickness of your cheek and letting out an appreciative hum. He was an ass man, afterall. Your fists curled tighter when you heard his sound, almost letting out a whimper in return. 

After another squeeze to your opposite cheek his lithe fingers ran up your spine to the laces of your top where he began to untie it. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of the fabric untying- save for his small huff when the laces gave him some trouble. Eventually he was able to undo it completely.  At this point you started to lose your patience, and you let out a huff of annoyance. 

You jolted when he suddenly gave a sharp tug on the makeshift leash, making you choke and gasp. His fingers dug into the meat roughly and you could feel the indents of his nails and knew you would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips. 

“Don’t you fucking huff at me. Sit up.” He smacked your ass making it sting and pulled on the belt again. 

Apparently you didn’t move quick enough for the beta, as he gave a condescending scoff - choosing to give your ass another hard smack. Once again you remained silent. Your top fell off completely when you put yourself on your hands and knees.

“Mmm look at you, bare naked on my bed, held by my belt, waiting for my command. Finally you're listening to me.” 

His hand cupped your pussy from behind then ran two digits through your slick. You shuddered when Minho gathered some of the wetness from your folds, then he pulled that hand up to the front of his face as he observed the way the arousal glistened. You couldn’t see it when he stuck those two fingers in his mouth and ran his tongue along them to clean them up, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head because of how fucking good you tasted. 

“So fucking wet and I haven’t done anything to you yet. Seems to me you're enjoying yourself a little too much. Maybe you aren’t as innocent as everyone believes you to be, hmm?” Minho shuffled until he was on the right side of you, leaning down to see your heated face. “I know otherwise though. I could tell you’re not as sweet as you pretend to be, you’ve shown me how defiant you can be.” He tugged the belt, reminding you he held the reins. His tone was beyond condescending as he spoke. “I know what you want, but how about you tell me what you want? Go ahead. Tell me.” 

“Minho..” Your voice was soft, beautifully submissive. “Want you..” 

“You want me, huh? You sure about that, baby?” He was looking down at you with a borderline evil smirk.  You didn’t pick up on the implied malicious compliance, too needy and quickly falling into subspace to even register it, so you nodded your head eagerly.”Say please.”

“Please Minho.” You wet your lips with your tongue, now your lips and eyes are shining. 

He tossed his head back and forth as if contemplating your request. “Ok. Here I am.” 

Minho yanked on the belt, pulling your face towards him and straight into his clothed crotch. You couldn’t suppress a surprised yelp when your face made contact, the fabric of his jeans feeling slightly scratchy on your skin. He held your lead close to him, not letting you gain any space away from him. Min hissed quietly at the stimulation, his hard cock begging for attention from within its confines. He rutted his hips a little, grinding against your face. 

“Min!” Your plea came out muffled and one of your hands went to his thigh to brace yourself. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He ground against you harder, your mouth was still slightly open and your saliva was wetting the front of his pants. “I’m giving you what you wanted. My cock is right here, omega.” 

The intention was not lost on either of you nor was the nuance of the situation. You were laid out doggy style and completely naked while he was kneeling over you completely clothed, making you rub and nuzzle against his covered crotch. It was a clear power play to embarrass you and make you submissive. And it was working. 

Your lips nipped at the material, mouth watering at even being so close to him. But it wasn’t what you really wanted from him. So you gave him what you thought he wanted. “Minho, please. M’ sorry,  I’ll listen to you. M’ sorry.” 

He raised a brow at you, “ Oooo now you wanna be nice? Now you wanna be good f’ me? Hmm I think it’s too late for that Baby. But,” he began to pet the back of your head, giving you some comfort. “Maybe if you ask me again, make it real sweet and cute like I know you can be, maybe I’ll go easy on you. Maybe.” 

Your lip jutted out and your eyes began to leak more crystalline tears, the big glassy orbs resembling an injured doe. 

“Minho, please touch me. Please give me your cock. Wanna make you feel good- be good for you Minho. I need it. Need you.” You placed wet kisses to his length, nuzzling the offending fabric right after. “Will do whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want huh?” He gave some slack to the belt he held, petting your head tenderly then bringing his hand to your cheek, tilting your face up to look at him. His thumb wiped at the incoming tear, smearing the liquid into your skin. “ I wanna play with my pretty omega.”

Minho forced your face back into his crotch, this time even rougher than before. The friction was starting to rub your skin raw, making you wince with every grind. His hand left your cheek and went back to your head, this time he grasped your hair tightly in his fist. Over and over again he shoved you into him. He was clearly getting off on this power play; his throaty whines gave it away. You felt like you were suffocating and couldn't breath against the denim. Your hands on his thighs attempted to push him away even for a second but he didn’t allow you too. “Gonna make me cum you rub me so fucking good. Maybe I should just take my dick out and cum all over you. Or I have a better idea; how about I use that belt to tie you to my bed post, then hump your face until I cover you with my cum. But you’d probably like that huh? Dirty omega probably wants to lay here covered in me until it dries on you. Fuck that would be a perfect sight.”

 Minho was rambling as if he was stuck in a fantasy and didn’t even register that you were struggling. 

Panic began to set in when you couldn’t get away, and you started to squirm and cry. Pleas of his name were muffled along with your crying. Your small fists beat against him frantically and that seemed to pull the beta from his trance.

 He grinded on your face once harshly then pulled you back. You sputtered as you gasped for air, drool and tears falling down your face and sticking to his pants. 

“N-no.. no more..” You wailed, throat croaky from crying. Your body was quivering and you looked like a mess. “Ple-ase Min… No more, m’ sorry.” 

“Aww omega,” Minho cooed and took the hand out of your hair and back down to your face. He was pleased with your submission, finding it easier to break you than he had anticipated. Your skin there was tender from his punishment and the heat of his hand did little to soothe it physically, but emotionally it was everything. You needed his care and mercy so much that even his patronizing tone flew right over your head. “Begged and pleaded for me and you can’t even take it huh? Just had to cry about it like the little baby you are. Do you know how pretty you look when you cry, hmm? Drives me so fucking crazy. Makes me wanna see how glassy those eyes can really get.”

You mewled when his thumb ran softly over your cheek, collecting the wetness. Then he moved it down to your lips. He groaned when you obediently opened your mouth and accepted the digit. Your tongue flicked over the tip and tasted the saltiness of your own tears.  

“I think I wanna see what you look like when you cry on my cock now.” His thumb came out of your mouth and he wiped the spit on your lips. Then both hands traveled down to your neck and to the leather of the belt. “Would you like that, omega? You want me to fuck you?” He slowly undid the belt and slid it from your neck and threw it to the floor. 

“Y-yes, Minho.” You were glad to have the leash off your neck, one of your hands went up to rub the skin but his own hand smacked it away then ran over your neck himself. 

“You’ve been so good for me this far, omega. Are you gonna keep it up and listen like you're meant to?” There was a bite to his words but you were beyond needy for any of his kind attention that it didn’t matter. 

You nodded quickly, starting to blubber again. “Mhm, I’ll be so good, wanna be good for you, promise Min, please please.” 

“Shhh, baby it’s alright. Min will give you what you need now, ok?” He slowly pushed down his pants and underwear until they fell to the floor. His hard length sprung free and slapped against his covered stomach. He lowered you down onto your back and climbed on top of you. Minho's arms went to either side of your body and caged you against the bed. 

You looked absolutely debauched. Your face was wet and your hair was a mess, and you were sniffling and whimpering under him just begging for attention. It became too much for the man to handle. With no more words spoken, he pressed a devastating kiss to your pouty lips. Your whole world shattered and all at once was rebuilt with that one kiss. It was a moment the two of you had been both dreaming about and dreading. And it was totally worth the wait. 

Your hands were at your sides and they twitched with a need to touch him- to wrap your arms around him and hold him to you. But you knew better than to do so without being told. You would do anything to stay in his good graces right now. 

Minho could feel you squirm and it made him smirk and hum. He knew he held the control and he was becoming drunk on it. Now he knew how Chan felt.. 

The beta used his tip to smack against your clit, giving a jolt of needed stimulation to the little bundle of nerves. Yet you didn’t move. “Good girl.” He praised and you let more tears fall. Minho went to line his member up with your center, but he paused before he pushed in. “You can touch me now, omega, go ahead and hold on to me. You'll need it.”  

Immediately your arms shot up and around him, getting as close as you possibly could to him. You purred in satisfaction when you held him, nuzzling deeply into his neck and wetting his skin with your tears. 

He chuckled in your ear, then shoved his length into you with one hard thrust. Your eyes slammed shut and your back arched at the intrusion, making your bare nipples rub against the fabric of his shirt.  Your mouth fell open and a throaty whine left you involuntarily. Minho may not have been an alpha but he sure was hung like one. 

“Jesus fucking christ, you are so fucking tight omega. Your sweet omega pussy is squeezing the life outta me, clenching me so good.” He didn’t give you time to adjust and began to thrust into you, his hips making a smacking sound. 

Minho leaned more of his weight onto you as he used one arm to support his body. The other hand went to your neck and found a place there. He would squeeze your windpipe when he gave you particularly hard thrusts. You thought it would scare you but in reality it felt divine. The dark hair that resided at the base of his cock was stimulating your clit with every single one of his grinds. 

You were quickly becoming worked up, your orgasm just on the cusp. Your nails were embedding themselves into his shoulders, drawing blood but you thought he didn’t seem to notice or if he did then he didn’t give a shit. In truth; he loved the pain you were giving him. The masochist in him was reeling. 

He moaned and cursed when you clenched around him, “Fuck baby, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” 

“Uh huh” you nodded into him. He slowed his movements- his pounding turning into a rolling as he withdrew his chest from yours. “No no no no please don’t go please.” You begged and attempted to pull him back to you, now full on sobbing. “Please Minho please.” 

He tsked down at you with a shake of his head. “Pathetic little baby wants to cum? You think you deserve it?” 

“Please! Been good!” He was steady despite your tugging on his shoulders, so you resorted to trying to thrust yourself up onto him. “Need t’ cum. Wan’ it Min. Won’t ever be mean to you again I promise!”

The beta smirked, feeling the satisfaction of victory. “I’m gonna hold you to that, omega.” Then he restarted his deep pounding. 

You threw your head back as you moaned, giving him a chance to increase the pressure on your neck. The slick was pouring out of you and covering both of your thighs and his bed. The wet squelches were a filthy addition to the already overwhelming scene and it was making you both extra fuzzy. 

All too soon you felt the build up within you once more, and this time he didn’t let up when you begged to cum. “Gonna cum! Please can I? Please!” 

“Yes omega, you can cum. You’ve earned it.” He said it then without a moment's hesitation he clamped his teeth into your neck, giving you a deep claiming bite.

You felt like you exploded into a thousand tiny stars. Your body convulsed as you came, your moans turning to screams from all of the sensations. Minho was growling as he sucked and dug his teeth in further and further, he seemed like a man possessed. 

His own orgasm came crashing down on him and you felt the fierce heat of his cum shoot inside of you. His eyes rolled back into his head and his rutting turned almost violent. He wanted his cum as deep into you as possible- wanted so deep it would stay there forever. 

©doitforbangchan

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[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship- Epilogue 

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Fluff, angst, past pregnancy issues, some language, mention of child death, fluff, 

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

SURPRISE! This chapter is the Epilogue so many of you messaged and asked for. We hope you enjoy. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The six of us boarded  the plane to our destination. Jensen and I decided we wanted to take our family with us on our honeymoon, because the marriage, this partnership was about them too. 

The kids were excited and talked about all the things they wanted to do. Jensen and I were watching them and listening to them make plans. 

Jensen held my hand almost the whole flight. Occasionally leaning over to place a kiss on my lips. A few fans had approached  us in the airport. Jensen was kind to them, taking pictures and signing autographs. 

One of the fans asked to take a picture with the kids too, and Jensen politely declined. That goodness  they were understanding. 

A middle aged woman approached  us and chatted with Jensen for a few minutes. She talked about his time on the soap opera and how she’d followed his career. 

She congratulated  us on the marriage and asked if we planned  to add to our family. I gasped softly. Jensen and I had never discussed children. He already had three and I had one. Jensen, being so sweet, gently touched her arm and smiled. “You never know. I wouldn’t be opposed  to it.” Then he turned to me and winked. 

When we arrived at the private cabana we were staying at, the kids started running around and exploring the place. Jensen helped carry our bags. He placed them in the rooms and told the kids to change into their swimsuits. Giggles filled the house as the kids went to their rooms and changed. 

Our cabana had a private pool, and private beach access. I stood at our sliding glass door in our room and looked out at the ocean. The view was breathtaking. 

As I was standing there, Jensen came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “What are you thinking about sweetheart?” I put my hands up and touched his arms, “Us, and the future.” 

Jensen turned me to look at him, “What about us?” I bit my lip nervously, “Did you mean what you said about the possibility of having a baby?” He cupped my face, “Darlin’ with you, I’d have as many as you wanted.” I smiled, “Well, I’d be fine with one more. We already have four.” I giggled. 

He picked me up and laid me on the bed, hovering over me, “Wanna practice now?” Jensen kissed my lips and down my throat. “Jensen Ross, our children are waiting to go swimming. Do you want them busting in here with you on top of me?” “I locked the door.” Jensen chuckled. 

“Later baby, let’s take them swimming, and I promise, later I’m all yours. We can take advantage of the “kids night out” program.” He kissed me again, “Deal, but seeing you in your swimsuit is going to kill me, sweetheart.” I leaned up, my lips close to his, “Same”.

The six of us went swimming and had so much fun together. I got out before the kids and Jensen did, so I took advantage of taking pictures of them all playing together. One of my favorite things to witness was Jensen being a dad. He was an amazing dad, and the kids loved him so much. Even though he works away for long periods of time, when he’s home, he’s all in and present with them.

Their giggles filled the air and Jensen would glance at me and smile. The stolen glances between him and I always made my heart flutter. 

The two weeks we were there were incredible. Jensen and I took full advantage of any alone time we could get. The kids enjoyed going to the “kids night out” activities, while Jensen and I enjoyed intimate dinners under the stars. 

The night before we left Jensen and I got into an argument. “Babe, why did Eric call you 15 times while we were out today?” Jensen turned and looked at me. “He’s just trying to confirm some things with me.” “So that took 15 phone calls on our honeymoon?!” “Sweetheart, we had some things we had to finalize for the upcoming project.”

I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at my husband, “What upcoming project?” His eyes went wide, “Well it hasn’t been announced yet, so I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” I scoffed, “Jensen, I’m your wife, surely you can discuss it with me. It affects our lives.” He sighed and ran his hands down his face, “I um, promised to do a show he’s working on. I’m going to be the lead.” 

My mouth hung open in shock, “Jensen, how long have you known about this project?” Jensen stared at me. “Jensen, how long?!” “About 6 months.” “6 months?! You decided to do a project that would take you away from us for months, without even talking to me. What about wanting to have a baby?!” 

Jensen crossed the room and reached for me, “Y/N, I do want to have a baby with you, but this project is important to me.” I pulled my arm away from him, “Obviously more important than me and our children. I can’t believe you would make a decision without even talking to me. You know I’d support you in whatever you do, but I’m being blindsided. When are you supposed to leave?” 

Jensen looked at me and took a deep breath. He knew I wasn’t going to like his answer, “Tuesday.” He said softly. 

“Tuesday? As in 3 days from today?” Tears stung my eyes. He nodded yes. “So when were you going to tell me? Tuesday morning when you leave for the airport, or tomorrow on our flight home?” “I don’t know.” 

The tears that filled my eyes started to fall. I felt so hurt and betrayed. He purposely kept this from me. “You do what you need to do, Jensen. I’m going to get some air.” I grabbed my sweater and walked outside towards the beach. 

Sitting in the sand under the moonlight, I cried. I didn’t hear Jensen coming up behind me. When he heard me crying he stopped. Not knowing if he should give me space or come up and beg for forgiveness. 

He decided I still needed some space. So he walked back to the cabana. 

I sat on the beach, crying and listening to the sounds of the waves for almost two hours. By the time I got back to the cabana the lights were off, except our bedroom. The kids were asleep and everything was packed. 

I walked into our shared room to find Jensen sitting on the bed. I couldn’t even look at him. I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. I half expected him to come in there like he always did, but he didn’t. 

Stepping out of the shower I got dressed, brushed my hair and teeth and went back into the room. Jensen had changed for bed. No shirt and his gray sweatpants. Even though I was mad at him, seeing him like that just turned me on. When I walked in the room he stood up, grabbed his pillow and started to leave the room. “I’ll um, sleep on the couch. You can have the bed sweetheart.” 

I stood in stunned silence. I didn’t want him to leave, but the hurt prevented me from saying so. He walked out and gently closed the door. 

I crawled in bed and cried. I needed my husband. I laid in the bed, unable to go to sleep. My heart couldn’t bear the silence, the tension. I took a deep breath, got up and went to the living room. 

I whispered softly, “Jens?” I saw his head lift up, “Yeah, sweetheart?” I walked over to him, “Babe, please come to bed. I don’t want to spend the last night of our honeymoon alone in our bed. I love you, I’m just hurt you kept something so big from me. Please, Jensen.” 

Jensen stood up, and pulled me flush to him. “Darlin’ I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have made a decision about a new project without talking to you. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’ve gotten so used to making these decisions without a partner, it slipped my mind. Then the wedding stuff and I never talked to you about it. Baby I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll call Eric tomorrow and tell him we have to push filming back.”

“Jensen Ross, you will do no such thing. You made a commitment to him and the crew. I know you, you honor your commitments. I am not going to be the reason you disappoint anyone.” 

“Baby, you and the kids are all that matter to me. Projects come and go. There will be others.” I placed my hand on his face, cupping his cheeks softly in my hands, “Jens, we will be okay. You will fly out Tuesday, kick that project’s ass and come home to me and our children. I know your career is important to you too. You can have both, a loving, supportive, family and your acting career. Then when you get home we can work on our own little project.”

Jensen placed a soft kiss on my lips, “Why don’t we start right now?” I nodded, took his hand and led him back to our room. We made love, taking our time, exploring each other’s bodies, committing every inch to memory. 

By the time we got home we had already told the kids Jensen was leaving to film with Uncle Eric. The kids were bummed Jensen was leaving, but they understood. Jensen promised to come home or we would fly to him when we could. Jensen and I made a promise to each other and the kids to not go longer than two weeks without seeing each other in person. 

Tuesday morning after we got the kids off to school, I drove Jensen to the airport. We walked inside hand in hand. Some fans noticed us and of course Jensen took pictures, and signed some autographs. They congratulated  us on the wedding and asked how the kids were. One little girl handed me a bracelet she made for Jazzy. It had her name on it. “Oh sweetie, this is beautiful. I’ll make sure to give it to her today. Thank you.” She smiled and nodded. 

After they left, Jensen took my hand and we walked towards security. I couldn’t go beyond that point, so we had to say our goodbyes there. I tried to keep the tears at bay, but they filled my eyes. As a few fell, Jensen wiped them away with his thumb. He pulled me close to his chest. I inhaled deeply, smelling his cologne and feeling his warmth. “I love you sweetheart. I promise no more than two weeks and I’m back in your arms.” “I know Jens. I’m just going to miss you.” “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.” He tilted my chin up and kissed me deeply. My knees were weak and my hands tangled in his hair. His hands found my hair and he pulled me deeper into the kiss. 

We kissed until our lungs screamed for air. When we finally pulled away he cupped my face and I leaned into his touch. “I love you, beautiful.” “I love you too, Jensen. Be safe.” He nodded, kissed my forehead and went towards security. I stood there and watched. As he finished and started walking towards the gate he turned around and waved. I waved, and watched him until he disappeared. I drove home in silence.

* Time Jump October*

It was a chilly morning in October. I got the kids off to school and was getting things ready for Jensen to come home. The past few months had been hard, but we made it work. Anytime the kids had a long break I would pack the five of us up and head to Jensen. If he had a filming break he’d come to us. We made it work, but it was hard. 

Jensen was coming home today. They had a 3 week long break before post production started. He would be home for 3 weeks and then gone until right before Thanksgiving. I had planned  to spend as much time as I could wrapped in his arms. All the time apart wasn’t conducive to having a baby. We tried, but so far nothing. I was worried I might have trouble getting pregnant. It took awhile to get pregnant with Jazmyne, so I was starting to get worried. I figured with Jensen at home, he and I could sit down and talk about my worries. 

Later that afternoon Jensen was home and so were the kids. I cooked dinner while the kids played and Jensen unpacked. Standing at the stove I felt two strong arms wrap around me. I leaned back, “Hello husband.” He pulled me tighter to him, “Hello wife.” I turned around, facing him and kissed him. “I missed this so much, Jens.” “Me too darlin’.”

After family movie night and the kids were in bed I wanted to sit and talk to Jensen about my concerns. “Jens, I want to talk to you about something that’s been bothering me.” Jensen took my hand and sat with me on our bed, “Sure baby, I’m here.” I took a deep breath, “I had trouble getting pregnant with Jazzy. We tried, went to the doctors, tracked my ovulation, everything. It took years to get pregnant. I know we haven’t used protection since we got married, and I’m not pregnant. I’m worried we might have trouble getting pregnant, if I even can. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t want you to be upset if we can’t have a baby of our own.” 

Jensen looked at me, his green eyes so full of love, “Y/N, I love you more than anything. If we have a baby together that’s great, if not, that’s fine too. We have four incredible kids sleeping in the other rooms right now. Since I’m home for a while, let’s try. If by this time next month you’re not pregnant, then we will both go get checked by a doctor. I think we should just take the pressure off ourselves and just enjoy each other.” 

“Are you sure, Jens?” He cupped my face, “Absolutely. I personally think we’re going to have a lot of fun trying to get you pregnant. In fact, why don’t we start now?” 

He grabbed me and laid me back, causing me to giggle. 

For the next few weeks we just enjoyed each other’s company. We had sex, made love on almost every surface in the house. Jensen couldn’t keep his hands off of me. 

By the time Jensen had to leave for post production and wrapping up filming our connection had grown deeper. I was going to miss his touch, especially at night, but Jensen was going to be home in a few short weeks. This goodbye wasn’t as hard as the last one.

Thanksgiving was coming up next week, so I was running errands and getting food so we could host dinner. Jensen was due home in a few days, but I wanted to make sure all of the shopping was done so he didn’t need to worry. 

While I was out shopping with Nichole I got really dizzy. “Honey, did you eat anything this morning? I shook my head, “No, I wasn’t feeling the best and I needed to get the kids to school.” “Okay, let’s get us something to eat.”

We walked into a local diner and sat down. I ordered water and a breakfast platter with eggs, toast and bacon. Nichole ordered a burger and fries. When the food came a wave of nausea hit me hard, sending me to the bathroom. 

I came back a few minutes later, pale and sweating. “Sweetie, are you okay?” Nichole asked concerned. I shook my head, “I think I have the stomach bug the kids just got over. I need to go home. I feel awful.” 

I went home and crawled into bed. Gen offered to pick the kids up and Jared was going to pick up Jensen from the airport when he got home. Nichole came by and helped with the kids while I focused on getting better. 

The next few days were horrible. Between the headache, body ache and vomiting I honestly didn’t know how I was going to make it. Then Jensen came home. I had already warned him I was sick, so he was willing to stay in the guest room so he didn’t get sick. 

When he got home he crept into the bedroom, “Sweetheart, I’m home. How ya feeling?” I pulled the blanket over my head, “Like crap. I feel like crap and look just as bad. Please don’t look at me.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Oh come on sweetheart, “in sickness and health”, remember? Come on, let me see that beautiful face.” “No, I’m hideous.” I felt the bed dip down as Jensen sat. He lightly tugged on the blanket. I let it drop. 

“There she is. Hey beautiful.” His green eyes full of love as a smile stretched across his face. “Hi Jens.” “Honey, you’ve been sick for a lot longer than the kids were. Maybe we should see if the doctor can give you something to at least help you keep things down. I don’t want you to end up in the hospital.” I nodded.

“It’s settled, I’m gonna call the doctor. I’ll see if Nichole or Gen can watch the kids so I can take you.” 

A few hours later Jensen and I were sitting in a room at the doctor’s office. I laid on the table, Jensen stood next to me holding my hand. Dr. Johnson came in, “Y/N, Jensen, so nice to see you two. I see you’re not feeling too good, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, all the kids had a stomach bug, now I’ve got it and I can’t stop throwing up. I can barely keep water down.” “Well that’s not good. Let’s see what we can do. Maybe get you some antinausea meds and get your strength up.” 

“Oh when was the first day of your last period? I don’t see it on your chart.” “Um, Jens, it’s in my phone.” Jensen pulled out my phone, “I’m seeing October 12th.” Doctor Johnson wrote it down, “Okay, so we’re going to run some tests, is there even the slightest possibility you might be pregnant?” 

I looked at Jensen and he looked at me, “It’s always a possibility, but highly unlikely. He’s been gone for a few weeks.” Dr Johnson nodded, “Understood, but I need to rule it out, because some of the medicine we can give could cause harm to an unborn child.” 

About thirty minutes later I had been poked by needles, blood drawn, and went pee in a cup. I was exhausted and wanted to go home. Dr Johnson had given me a shot of antinausea medication that was safe to use during pregnancy in the event I was pregnant. I laughed, but welcomed any help. 

I had fallen asleep waiting for the results. Finally Dr Johnson came back in. “Sorry to have kept you guys waiting. There was an issue at the lab and I wanted to double check your results. So it seems you’re dehydrated, which I figured we’d see. Your iron is low, and you’re pregnant.” 

“So what should I do about the low iron? Wait, what?” Dr Johnson started chuckling, “Congratulations, Y/N, you’re pregnant.” I looked over at Jensen, he was just as stunned as I was. Tears filled our eyes, “Is she really?” Jensen asked. The doctor smiled and nodded. “So I want you to go next door and have an ultrasound done. We want to make sure the little one is doing okay, especially since you’ve been so sick. I’m also going to prescribe you some antinausea medicine to help you. Make an appointment with your OBGYN as soon as possible, and congratulations again.” He shook Jensen’s hand and mine.

I placed my hand on my belly and looked at Jensen, “We’re pregnant.” I said softly. Jensen pulled me into a hug and kissed my head, “We’re pregnant, you’re pregnant. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door. The ultrasound technician came in to take us to see the baby. My heart beat wildly in my chest as we walked down the hallway. Jensen placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked.

I climbed on the bed, and she got the machine ready. “So Mrs. Ackles, I understand we’re going to take some pictures of the baby, and check on their growth.” I nodded. “Well, I’m ready when you two are.”

I laid back and held Jensen’s hand, my eyes glued to the monitor. She placed the gel on my belly and grabbed the ultrasound wand. She moved it around, trying to find the heartbeat. I held my breath. Then I heard it, the rapid little sound filling the room. Tears spilled from my eyes. I looked over at Jensen, “That’s our baby, Jens.” “Yeah, that’s our baby.” He kissed my lips. 

The technician took some pictures and measurements. “Okay, it looks like you’re almost 7 weeks pregnant and it looks like you’re due on or around July 19th.” I gasped and Jensen chuckled. 

Before we left the appointment, I had my appointment scheduled with my OBGYN, and we had pictures of our baby. In the car I was a little quiet. “Honey, are you okay? Do you need anything?” “Yeah, Jens. I’m okay. I just can’t believe I’m pregnant, and their due date.” “Yeah, isn’t that crazy. It’s Jared’s birthday.” “Wait, what? That’s Jared’s birthday?” “Yeah, why. What were you thinking about?” “It was also Kash’s birthday.” I said softly, thinking about my little brother. 

Jensen grabbed my hand, “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I forgot.” “It’s okay, Jens. I know I don’t talk about him that much.”

All the way home my mind drifted to my childhood. Well, early teen years. My baby brother, Kash and I were inseparable. I used to tell people he was my baby. We were almost 10 years apart. I remember coming home from school one day and my parents both being home and crying. I had no idea what was going on. I went to my room and my mom came in. She sat on my bed and told me at Kash’s appointment today the doctor told them he was sick. I didn’t understand why everyone was crying. “Why can’t you just give him medicine and make him better?” I asked. “Honey, it’s not that kind of sickness. He’s got cancer, and they can’t do anything about it. It wasn’t caught early enough.”

I still didn’t understand. I was twelve when he died. My parents and I were never the same. Now here I was pregnant, and the baby due on his birthday. 

We told Jensen’s parents, Jared, Gen, and Nichole I was pregnant. We wanted to wait to tell the kids, and of course everyone else. Jared was excited the baby was due on his birthday. 

The next few weeks Jensen and I navigated the early stages of my pregnancy. We decided we were going to announce my pregnancy around Christmas. We told the kids and they were excited. The girls wanted another girl, but Zeppy wanted a boy. “Daddy, it’s just you and me. We need another boy.” I laughed. Jensen agreed. 

The day to announce finally came. Jensen had a special stocking made and he placed it on the mantel next to all of ours. The photo taken showed Jensen’s stocking, Mine, all the kids’, then one at the end that said “Baby Ackles Coming July”. Jensen posted the phone and captioned it, “We need a bigger mantle. Baby Ackles Due in July.”

The support was overwhelming, and I loved sharing our little miracle with everyone.

*July*

My feet were swollen, it was hot. More hot than I’m sure it ever had been in Austin, and I was ready to have the baby. Jensen was home from filming because I was due soon, and he was not going to be in another country when I delivered our baby. 

Jensen’s mom came to town to help with the kids so Jensen could focus on me since I was so close to the due date and had appointments every week. I was so grateful for her. Gen and Nichole would come over to help her too. 

I woke up early with a pain in my back. I laid on my side, hoping it would help. Being this far in pregnancy it was always hard to get comfortable. I felt pressure and got out of bed to use the bathroom. 

I was washing my hands and suddenly I felt my water break. Trying not to panic or scare Jensen, I cleaned up the mess, changed and woke him up gently. “Jens, honey. I need you. Wake up baby.” He stretched and yawned, “What’s wrong baby?” “My water broke. We need to get to the hospital.”

His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, “Your water broke?” I shook my head. He jumped out of bed, threw his clothes on and helped me down the stairs. He ran to the guestroom and woke his mom up to tell her I was in labor. 

She came downstairs, hugged me and kissed my head. “Good luck, sweetie. Call us when the baby is here.” I nodded. Jensen helped me to the car and threw the hospital bag in the back. 

He sent Jared and Nichole a text to let them know. I called the doctor to let them know we were on our way to the hospital. 

Arriving at the hospital, Jensen ran inside and returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. We got to the room, I was hooked up and soon it was time to deliver the baby. 

Jensen was pacing the room. I could tell he was nervous. The last time he was with someone giving birth he lost them. I reached for him. He walked over, I took his hand and pulled him close to me.

“Jens, everything is going to be okay. Take a breath.” He took a deep breath and let it out. Before too long it was time to deliver. Jensen was even more nervous. 

He kept asking questions about me, the baby and what to expect. The doctor was understanding and answered every question he had. 

It was time to push. Jensen held my hand, encouraging me and helping me through each contraction. Before too long, a tiny cry was heard.

Tears fell from mine and Jensen’s eyes. He kissed my forehead, “You did it baby.” The doctor put the baby on my chest and looked at Jensen, “Mr. Ackles, would you like to cut the cord?” Jensen nodded and cut the umbilical cord. 

I kissed our baby’s head, counted ten fingers and ten toes. Their eyes are the most beautiful shade of green, like Jensen’s. I was so deeply in love, just like I was the day Jazzy was born. 

Once we were cleaned up and in my room, Jensen took a picture and sent it to Jared, Nichole, and his mom. Congratulations came pouring in with each text he sent. I held our baby as Jensen kept taking pictures. 

I handed the baby to Jensen so I could take pictures of him holding them. He looked so in love. Jensen was made to be a father. 

When our family arrived later we announced to them the gender and the name we had picked. Jared, Gen, Nichole, all our babies, and Jensen’s parents were there. 

Jensen held the baby, “Y/N and I would like to introduce you all to our beautiful little boy, Kash Tristan Ackles. Born at 6:35 am July 19th. He weighed 8lbs 8oz and was 21 ½ inches long. 

Jared was beaming. Not only was the baby born on his birthday, but he also carried his middle name. He pulled Jensen in for a hug, “Thank you man, that means the world to me.” He hugged me and kissed the top of my head. 

Looking around the room I realized just how much my life has changed in the past few years. I went from total despair when Josh and my mom died, to complete bliss with my son in my arms. Surrounded by my new family. 

Jensen leaned in and kissed my lips, “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for all of this.” I kissed him, “I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for all of this.” 

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[anonymooseforever007]

The Engagement

(Luca Changretta x Shelby sister reader)

Summery: You had made it very clear already. You had absolutely no intentions of marrying Luca Changretta for a business deal.... So your brothers really should have been suspicious when you eagerly requested for them to set up a meeting for you and your fiancé one neutral ground.... And they should have been scared when you choose Alfie's shipyard as that neutral ground....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No trigger warnings besides peaky language and threats I think! There are talks about an arranged marriage, but once again we'll see how that goes over.... This is the first time I've like written Luca besides just mentions so I hope I did alright! Also I write this like two weeks ago but forgot to edit it until today oops! Enjoy!❤️

WC-5.0k

Part 1- The Proposal Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remind me again why the fuck we're we're here Tom?"

"Ask her. She was the one who choose the meeting place."

"Keep in mind that she can also hear you perfectly well brother darling, and if you ask that question one more time you won't be so lucky."

Arthur raised his hands in surrender as he took a seat by John as you all sat waiting for your company to arrive. Well, Tommy didn't sit. He just stood with a cigarette hanging from his mouth watching the entrance gate of the loading dock. 

"All I don't understand is why you wanted to meet him here. After all, we're Romani blood right?"

"Yes Arthur."

"And Luca's Italian blood?"

"Correct"

"So why the fuck are we meeting at the fucking Jew's shipyard?"

"I actually agree with that. Why are we here? Isn't it suppose to be neutral ground or what not?" John chimed in and even Tommy tilted his head in concession. Even he wasn't sure why you choose to meet Luca in Alfie's territory. He would have rather met in Charlie's yard, but you'd insisted on being here, in the small boat yard on the edge of Alfie's territory. 

"Simple. If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed."

"That's some wise fucking words if I've ever heard them, poppet." 

Turning around you smiled at the approaching gangster, his loyal dog strolling a few steps ahead. Reaching out you began to coo at the large dog who was eager to receive his belly rubs. Playing with Cyril always improved your mood. You ignored the groans of your brothers and John grabbing on to Arthur's coat to he decided to lunge.

"Hello Arthur!"

"Fuck off!"

"Oi! No fighting," you interrupted getting between the two men, "Now he may hate you all, but he can still hate one more than the other so let's not push it."

Alfie nodded his head mockingly behind you as you gently shoved your eldest brother away. Sending him back to his seat, you gave Tommy a short glare for not stepping in, to which he just shrugged, and then turned towards Alfie again.

"But really why are you here?"

"Can't a man walk his own property?"

"Sure, but you said everything would be ready for when Mr. Changretta arrived. You're not suppose to be here. It's to be a private affair."

"And it is. Just making one last check to see if you lot are all ready and make one last proposal of my own. Also I wanna remind ya not to get any blood on my dock. Just had it redone all nice and such. I wouldn't want your ugly guts staining the finish. I saw their ugly fucking cars pulling up down the street on my way in. Should be here any minute. It's a shame thou init? Pretty thing like you is too good for any of these cunts. If you'd like I can kill them all now and you can run with me, eh poppet? You can play with my dog any day you want." 

You laughed as both Arthur and John stood up this time with indignant protests. Even Tommy tensed up and turned to glare at the man who had spoken.

"Alright then Mr. Solomons," you drawled, patting the man's chest, "While that is just a lovelyoffer, unfortunately I am already taken for," a quick glare at Tommy, "though you're welcome to leave the dog anytime. He's such a lovely boy." Cyril wagged his tail at the attention shoving his head into your leg like an over grown cat looking for head scratches. Ones you were more than happy to oblige.

"Well then, I best be off now haven't I mates? Unlike you lot I know to appease a pretty woman with her desires. Y/N." Alfie nodded his head as he stared to head off, Cyril waiting until his master had called thrice before leaving your side. It wasn't until they'd both rounded the corner when the company you'd finally be waiting for arrived. Three black cars pulled up smoothly before coming to a halt. From your place in the shipping yard you watched nine men exit the cars. A few more than you had expected but still not any issue.

Your brothers walked up first, and you saw Tommy moving to shake someone's hand. The man was tall with dark slicked back hair and he wore his hat slightly tilted on his head. He looked stupid. In his mouth sat a toothpick that he seemed to enjoy munching on as he listened to your brother speak. He looked like a cow when he did that you'd stubborn decided. A stupid cow. A handsome cow. But a handsome stupid cow. Stupid. handsome. cow man. asshole.....ok so obviously still you weren't happy to be there. After all, this was the man who threatened to kill your entire family. Even the children, and you made a habit of disliking anyone willing to harm children. They didn't have to want any of their own or even like them in general, but to be willing to harm something so innocent to the crimes being punished seemed wrong to you. So even without meeting the man you knew you despised him. What kinda lowlife monster would be willing to hurt innocent kids to get his revenge? ....Evidently one you're brothers we're willing to marry you too. But was there really no other deal he'd make for peace? Well....If things went to plan you were about to find out. 

"I'm glad you were able to consider my proposal Mr.Shelby, I think it's much nicer this way isn't it?"

You didn't even try to hide your disbelieving laugh as the New York Gangster's words reached your ears. Immediately the attention went you, and since he was closer now, you could see the faint outline of a permanent  stubble outlining his lower face. Stupid veryhandsome cow man. As he looked towards you for the first time Luca raised and eyebrow.

"Do you find something amusing?"

Tilting your head slightly, you smiled with a false sweetness. Out of the side of your eye, you noticed your brothers tensing up slightly. Be it from the fact Luca was so close or that you interrupted their conversion. Either way, they began to notice the glint in your eye. And slowly they were regretting allowing you to meet Luca before the wedding. As if an introduction at the alter would have been any better.

"Yes. Very amusing in fact. See, I came here thinking it was ME being proposed to," clasping a hand mockingly to your chest you continued, "But here we are and the only one being romanced is my beloved brother. ...Well, romanced isn't the word, that's got to be the shittiest proposal I've ever heard. 'I'm glad you've considered my proposal'.... poppycock! Aren't you Italians suppose to be good at this romance shit?"

Arthur choked on his tongue besides you as Tommy spoke your name in warning, which you ignored. Luca moved his toothpick around his mouth and he gave you a once over. If you hadn't already been set on hating this man, his stare would have sent a pleasant shiver down your back in a way few could these days. Finally, letting out a small but still amused hum, Luca reached out to shake your hand. 

"Y/N, I presume?"

"Shelby. Y/N Shelby....Miss Y/N Shelby is my name. And you are too close, back up," you stated firmly. The special emphasis on both 'Shelby' and 'Miss' was more than enough to let anyone know your feelings on the current situation. Luca only raised his eyebrow again and rescinded his unaccepted hand. 

"I'm Lu...."

"I know who you are," you interrupted.

"Really," Luca queried. Surely you didn't know enough about him then if you were treating him so flippantly, he thought. He was the man determined to end you entire bloodline only a few weeks ago. You should be terrified of what would happen if he decided he didn't want to marry you!! But no, he thought, instead you were....

"You're the man who thinks finger paintings are scary."

Luca's toothpick fell from his mouth, while John could be heard covering his laugh. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice became slightly darker.

"What did you say?"

Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he stepped forward to put himself between you two. But before he could open his mouth to take control of the situation again, yours opened first. You waved your hands around in sarcastic  excitement as you spoke, imitating the man's voice.

"What were you helping 'mama' with her lesson plan one day, making hand turkeys and decide, 'ohhh THUMBS! Terrifying?! That'll be a great way to show people not to mess with me!'"

Luca's eye twitched and if he hadn't already lost it, you were sure he would have snapped the toothpick between his teeth, his jaw was clenched so tightly.

"Watch your tone with me woma..."

"OR WHAT? You'll send me a finger painting?"

Arthur wrapped an arm around your waist and began to pull your back. No, he didn't like how Luca was speaking to you, but he also didn't want you to start a war of your own today. Even if he had a good idea you'd win. And yet still you weren't deterred. 

"Can it be pink and have confetti? OOHH or maybe it can be red like the blood that's gonna run down your throat when imaamuahhh," Arthur hissed as you bit the hand covering your mouth, but it was enough time for Tommy to finally step in again. Briefly...

"She doesn't mean that. It's the fa..."

"He's right! I don't!" You interjected again, freeing yourself of your eldest brother, "I'm not actually a fan of blood, so I won't slit your throat, but I'd be carefully of the champagne at the after party. Never know what slips in the cups these days..."

This time it was John who grabbed you, though not as roughly as Arthur, but luckily for everyone you had finished.... for now. The entire yard was silent and even Tommy was at a small loss for what to say. Truth be told he didn't know if there was anything to say. It was a long enough shot to convince Luca that marriage would be a way to end the vendetta and now here you were, possibly ruining that chance within half an hour. While he could understand your anger, there was still a part of him that was annoyed at the fact you could be so tactless. Another part though, the part that was still your big brother, was incredibly proud and resisting the urge to laugh at your comments. Luca however, remained unimpressed.

"My apologies, Miss Shelby," Luca restated, started to become more than annoyed with your antics. Surely, you knew that he was the one holding the power here? If your family had it, there was no way they'd have even considered the marriage. He was the one holding all the cards and you were instead choosing to act as though this entire plan was your idea. In a quieter, and deceitfully threatening voice, Luca ignored your demand for space and leaned closer to your ear. "Though, one would think for a woman in your situation, you'd be a little more welcoming to your fiancé. After all, I've been so generous to reconsider my previous message of vendetta, haven't I Bella?"

John could be heard whispering to Tommy, probably demanding to be allowed to hit the taller man, but he was held back. Again, you ignored your brothers instead focusing on the man before you, who's just said one of the worst things he could have.

"Generous? You think you're generous to try and force a woman into marriage and take her away from her family? Is it generous to not to kill children in exchange for someone else's freedom? Do you expect me to be happy, fucking happy, to have to spend the rest of my life with you when I don't even know you? I don't who you are or what you might do to me. You expect me to just follow your every whim and play housewife, knowing that one day you may kill me to go after my brothers? Is that what you define fucking generosity as," you fumed, just as angry as you were when you first learned about the new deal. "Well, if that's generous then damn all of the generosity in the world to hell! I agreed to come here today to meet you for my family. I am agreeing to consider giving up some of my freedom for their safety, when I'm not even the one who started this whole mess. I could have said no. I could have left them to fend for themselves and likely die over a needless feud, but I didn't. Because I was the one who decided to be generous. I am the one willing to give up something good that I have, to keep spending bad from happening to someone else. That is generous. My drawback for their benefit. I didn't have to do it but I did. Because I love them. So unless you're more incompetent than you've come off so far, I'd try thinking of a better word than generous for that little statement if I was you," speaking tersely you dared Luca to question your speech. Then taking a deep breath you closed your eyes off a moment.

His last comment had thrown you off, setting you off in a way you hadn't meant to go. And while your words were true, this isn't where you wanted the conversation to go. Not if your plan was going to work. It couldn't work if you'd pushed Luca too far too fast. He needed to be in just the right spot for the biggest blow to make the most efficient impact. Sighing, you straightened your shirt and looked down at your shoes. Your glare dropped and an almost desperate look appeared in your eyes briefly. 

"Besides.... is it too much to ask for a proper proposal? Like the one from a story that makes you dream of true love," Tilting your head in an almost wistfully sad way, you'd met Luca's gaze again, noticing that by some miracle he's eyes had softened just slightly. "Even if it's not true it would be nice to pretend wouldn't it? To actually be asked to be one's forever even if it seems there's only one answer? Can't I at least be granted that?"

Luca thought for a moment, taking the time to pull a new toothpick from his pocket. Shooting a brief glance over your shoulder, he saw your brothers staring at him intensely from a few steps behind. It crossed his mind that if he truly did want to, he could kill you here and now. Because he really did have the power in this fight. You stood within half an arms reach and the eight men he'd brought with him far outnumbered your three brothers. It could be an easy fight, over in mere seconds, damned how neutral this ground was suppose to be. He could kill you all now and the vendetta would be settled, AND he wouldn't ever have to deal with your infuriating brothers or your even more infuriating comments ever again. You had showed him no respect up to this point and if it were anyone else they'd have been dead after the first interruption. But you weren't dead, and for some reason, some unknown feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach, Luca wanted do keep it that way. So he unwittingly did exactly what you wanted him to do. 

"You want a proper proposal," Luca drawled, his eyes falling to your lips once and his voice was calmer now, almost softly curious, like he sympathized with your plea, "Is that it? Me asking you, and that's all it'll take for this to be done? You'll be good and stop fighting?"

Smiling sweetly again, a more genuine smile this time you nodded, clasping you hands together and placing them behind you almost shyly as you rocked your feet. It was a complete change from your attitude moments ago. Like all it took was to believe someone was listening to you, for you to become this sweet little demure creature from the fairytales his mother taught in her class. 

And somehow, naively Luca didn't realize the fairytale of your own act now. Giving a pleased smile, at what he assumed was your acceptance of the deal, he nodded, silently agreeing to your desires. Despite your beliefs Luca didn't think of himself as a monster, nor did he want an unhappy marriage either. He didn't necessarily care if you loved him, but it would be nice if he knew you wouldn't betray him. And if he could please his wife, he figured life would be so much easier for him in that matter. So he supposed he could give you this one thing you seemed to so closely desire. Besides, there was, again, this almost funny feeling that had settled in Luca's stomach. He couldn't say what it was but there was apart of him that was almost.... excited to be able to actually propose to you instead of just meeting you at the alter. It was something he couldn't explain and wouldn't admit yet but it was there. And so the next words from his mouth would seal both your fates.... or so he thought as he took the toothpick out of his mouth to fulfil your wish. 

"Y/N Shelby? Would you like to..."

"Wait, not like that!"

Luca froze, his head tilting in confusion at the light frown that has formed on your face. Your brothers, as well as Luca's own men could be here whispering in the background. None of them were really sure what was going on now, but none of them moved, all equally curious to see where this was going. 

"Not like that? Didn't you just say you wanted me to propose?"

"Yes, but I also said propose properly," you insisted, "if you don't do it the right way it may as well mean nothing." 

"And what exactly does 'proper' mean by your standards? What do you want me to do?" There was a small amount of sarcasm in his words due to a voice in his mind that was starting to get annoyed again, but Luca ignored it. It didn't even take you a second of thought before your smile returned. As had the look that worried your brothers in the first place.

"It means get on your knees Mr. Changretta."

Silence echoed across the entire shipyard. Almost all the men present stood in shock, eyes wide, even Tommy at what you'd just said. Luca however just tilted his head to the side, his hat looked straight now, processing. The deceptively sweet smile still lingered on your face as you waited for a response.

"You said to get on my knees.... to propose to you?" he repeated slowly, wanting to confirm you'd actually just demanded that of him. He wanted to be sure you had the audacity to order such from him. 

"I want you on your knees Luca....now."

....

Luca listened. 

For some reason, one nobody would ever be able to explain, he did as you said. The toothpick was clenched tightly between his lips as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, eyes locked with yours the entire time. His men could be heard whispering to each other behind him, and Luca knew he'd have to have a talk with them later about what they saw. Luca took a deep breath in, contemplating if this was actually going to happen, if he was actually doing this....Evidently he was. 

"Y/N Shelby..." he paused a moment as you stuck out your hand indicating he should take it... He did. You couldn't see it, but Tommy was looking up at sky, lips tightly together trying to hide his smirk. John and Arthur did have to turn around to hide their grins now too. Luca started again. The words were spoken with a slight hint of sarcasm as he repeated by the title you'd reminded him of earlier. Luca tilted his head in question, and if he did it any more his hat probably would have fallen off. 

"Y/N Shelby, Miss Y/N Shelby.... would you do me the honor of marrying me, Luca Changretta, and become my wife?"

"No."

Luca almost choked on his toothpick, he inhaled so quickly, his cheeks darkening a slight tint of red. You hadn't even paused for a moment to think, bluntly rejecting the man on his knees before you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you smiled again, though now Luca could see the true meaning of the look and realised that you never had any intentions of accepting his proposal at al. You just wanted to make a fool out of him down on his knees. Quickly, that embarrassment turned to anger as Luca shot to his feet, pulling you closer by the hand and seething in your face. Behind you, your brothers shot into action as well, all tensing up and reaching for their guns. But they knew that even if necessary, they'd have no shot as you were practically shielding Luca with you body because if where they stood. 

"That's is enough! Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking make me kneel..."

"Step back Luca," you interrupted, undetected by his ranting, but he ignored you.

"Don't tell me to fucking step back woman. If you think you can treat me...."

"Step back Luca," you repeated again calmly, but it only served to anger him more.

"STEP BACK! Step fucking back!! I will stand wherever I fucking want to stand," and with that he stepped even closer, to where the tip of his nose was touching yours. "You don't seem to understand anything going on."

"Actually I..."

"NO! Your precious brothers are going to have a bullet coming out of every fixing hole they have in ten seconds in you don't fucking listen," His hands were on your shoulders know gripping you roughly. The toothpick in his mouth almost stabbing you in the face as he spoke. "You are not the one in power here, I am. You do not make the calls, I do. I am the one who can tear apart everything you hold dear." Luca leaned his head back arrogantly, looking down at you over nose. He was still less than an arm's length part. "I have nine men and you have three. So who's to fucking stop me from killing your brothers and having my way with you right now?"

A shot rang though the air.

Luca's toothpick was still in his mouth, but now half of it had been blown to sawdust by the bullet passingly cleanly before his face. 

You just smiled...

"I told you to step back Luca..."

Every man in the ship yard ignored you, reaching for their guns, trying to find the shooter. Even your brothers looked around, slightly panicked, not knowing who fired the gun.... Or whose side they were on. The surprise of the shot, had loosened Luca's grip on you as you freed yourself and took a few steps back. Two more shots rang out from somewhere, landing close to Luca's feet, creating more space between the pair of you as he stumbled back. Then the shipyard went quiet again. Not a single man moved, for fear the next shots wouldn't be so harmless. Still searching for the ambusher Luca turned towards Tommy.

"I thought you said this was neutral ground! It's suppose to be private," He demanded, completely ignoring the fact he, himself had just threatened you on the very same neutral ground.

"It is. Or it's fucking suppose to be. I have no clue what's going on," Tommy replied, just as concerned. He should have known Alfie would play dirty. He hadn't counted on you doing it either though.

"But it's just that Mr. Changretta," clasping your hands together, you started towards the Italian man again, having no fear of getting shot. "As I told my brothers earlier, 'If he hates both of you he can't favor either of you. Thus neutral land is formed.' And I promise, Alfred Solomons hates both of you."

Luca huffed and narrowed his eyes. "I suppose this was your doing too?"

"Of course. See that 'you' is spelled without an 'me'.....and me, well I, have a very good relationship with a certain man's dog. And it is just amazing what a man will do when his dog likes you."

No one spoke so you continued. Though your face remained composed in an accomplished grin, you were almost bouncing on the balls of your feet due to your excitement. Your plan was going very nicely. Laughing, you carelessly spun around once, observing the mass of boxes and boats and building around you.

"They're amazing are they? Snipers? Could shoot your hat off from half a mile away  and you'd have never even heard the shot. Do you know how many snipers during the war were Jews? I don't, but I understand that Mr. Solomons employee a decent number of them. And when my dear friend heard of this whole marriage ploy?.....Well he righteously shared my outrage and offered to help me." Now you had taken to walking circles around your target. Now Luca realised that it was in fact you who had all the power, since the moment his tires hit the yard's ground. "And luckily for you, I did manage to curve his "help" from something a little bit less...murdery? Perhaps. After all, I do prefer to avoid violence if I can. There are so many more civilised methods than that...And finally we settled on this. The 'official engagement' taking place in this very yard, where I politely ask you to rethink your offer. And if you don't, we try to renegotiate.... and if you don't agree to that.... well. Luca you were wrong earlier..... I have far more than three men. All of who are very inclined to keep me safe. Now they've been instructed not to injury unless necessary, but that doesn't mean they can't give a warning shot. It doesn't mean they have to either. They were being very very nice just now. And you can't see them, but I promise they've had their sights on you for a while now. Why not give them a smile and then I'll tell you how this is gonna go." You opened your arms wide as if showing off everything. Luca just watched chewing on the half of his toothpick that remained. 

"How what's gonna go?" It actually wasn't Luca who spoke up. Nor was it your brothers. One of Luca's men, had asked the question. You turned and smiled at the man nodding you head once as if pleased that someone was participating. Luca made a mental note to beat the man later for encouraging you.

"See I really don't want to marry you. I don't love you. I don't even know you. There's also the fact you threatened everyone I love. But I also understand you and my brothers' small minds are incapable of imagining deals involving anything other than fighting or fucking and I don't particularly want to do either of those things with it right now. So I've come up with a new plan and who knows, maybe it'll work out in everyone's favour. Are you ready to hear it?" You paused waiting for a response. When none came you raised and eyebrow and made a point of glancing towards a rooftop over Luca's shoulder. "Do you want to know how this will work Luca?"

"Fine."

"Perfect! So you WILL take back your little finger paintings, but I will NOT be marrying you anytime soon. However, for the good of our families I am presenting another option. Luca Changtetta, I will NOT marry you on a whim, but," You paused for a moment for dramatic effect, waiting until Luca tilted his head. "Should you agree... I will let you take my hand in courtship for one year. And I promise it will not be easy for you. If you manage to whoo me, the you can have your marriage. If not.... Well then I should hope by that day we are close enough friends to put the past behind us and everyone can go their separate ways."

Luca tilted his head in confusion, "What?"

Bloody hell, this man needed to pick up a romance novel. Huffing slightly your reworded your demands. 

"Luca, you have a year to date me and make me fall in love with you. If you do I'll marry you. If not the you have a whole year to give up or come up with a better plan than killing everyone. Got it?"

"Why the fuck didn't you just say that in the first place? And what if I don't want to court you?"

"Because I didn't wanted to. And if you don't want to play then you can give up now or let the snipers play target practice."

Luca nodded his head and thought for a moment. The right choice was obvious as the fact that you were crazier than Alfred Solomons. After all, first you were threatening to kill him for trying to marry you, and now he had a year to change your mind. Luca's hand was still wrapped around his gun and he had half a mind to use it. The only thing keeping him from shooting you was the fact he knew, he'd have at least five bullets in him before he pulled the trigger. The obvious choice was to walk away now and give up the vendetta. You had just told him he could stop and you all could go your separate ways. No one else would have to die. All he had to do was give up, admitting you'd outsmarted him. He'd have to admit that you did hold all the power. 

"Well, Mr. Changretta? What do you think of my proposal?"

Luca didn't like admitting anyone else had the power... Even if looked very good on you. And so his choice was made.

"I suppose I better learn your favorite type of flower amore."

"Whatever kind you're most allergic to Romeo"

.....

And so it began...

[gl00mura11]

Do you perhaps do crossovers (like for example obey me x twst or sumn similar to that)?

If so, could you perhaps do the demon brothers or Diavolo with a Malleus!Male! Reader? Doesn't exactly have to look like Malleus (mainly just the horns and magic abilities, personality too if you wanna add that).

Maybe some fluff headcanons of Diavolo or the demon brothers just simply being around Malleus!reader and spending time with him, and Malleus!reader being somewhat shocked that they aren't really afraid of him?

I'm hope you have a wonderful day!

(Edit: After so long Ive realized that I never really went through with the ask and went with my own story. Im so sorry dude, i will fix my mistake and remake it in a bit)

TW: VERY small mentions of the event Glorious Masquerade in Levi’s Part, Mentions of hurting Belphegor during lesson 16 + small spoilers, let me know if more!

Malleus!Reader and the Brothers

Lucifer🦚

When you first came to the Devildom, his first concern him was your abilities, and of course, your appearance. Nothing could’ve really prepared him to see a tall man with large horns, especially one with the amount of power to actually harm them. Slightly though, I mean you couldn’t be compared to THEE Lucifer (is what he continued to tell himself for a long time).

Throughout the year Lucifer mostly left you alone. He had small concerns, but it was most likely just paperwork and his brothers stressing him out so he stayed in his room. You were kinda used to that kind of treatment though so you didn’t mention it much.

He eventually warmed up to you, and you did try to keep out of trouble so nothing much happened. His trust also kind of broke a bit when he saw you using magic on his younger brother, Belphegor during the whole… trying to kill you thing. He understood it was for defense purposes though.

When he learns that people tend to avoid you and are usually scared of you, he felt a bit bad. He likes spending time with you now, and isn’t that scared of you. Maybe a bit intimidated with your height but it isn’t a huge problem since the horns make up around 4-5 inches. He adores your love and interest for gargoyles, and is extremely impressed when he finds out what your power level. Nothing could really compare to the brothers though, not even Belphegor.

Mammon💸

He thought you were badass honestly. Maybe a bit intimidated since you were pretty tall compared to him (and also the fact that you just looked terrifying). You did kinda remind him of Lucifer though…

During the year though, you end up dealing with him like usual. Mammon would take all sorts of things from you and try to steal it, but it slowly stopped after a while (years). One night though, he decides to take your beloved Drago. I swear he’s never seen you so upset over some toy! Are you like Levi, all into those weird games? Didn’t seem like the type.

After explaining that it was given by someone special, he stops most of his teasing. You’d hear a whine or two about how you would just give away expensive items to fix it, but a small smile after it’s fixed immediately shuts him up.

Levi🐍

He was bored out of his mind when he was suddenly out of his little fantasy and he just sees this super scary guys that’s like, the exact replica of Lucifer! The horns, the glare, the terrifying but badass look that just screams “normie”! He couldn’t believe it, you were also an exact replica of the Lord of Corruption!

He pretty much avoided you but admired you after that meeting. He could compare you to so many anime characters! You really got his attention, he’d stare at you in class all day! And during breakfast, lunch, and dinner... He does get closer with you by the end of the year, you were eager to learn what he knew about TSL. Though, he called you “normie” a lot during his rant. Well, at least you were able to mention gargoyles. And he was completely fine with it! Unlike Azul and Idia who completely made a whole deal out of it during your trip to Noble Bell College… Though, you did think of Idia while Levi was ranting about TSL. Maybe they both would be friends?

(might get into writing again but oh well. This is probably just a spurt of energy after months of being done with everything.)

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hi!! I want to start of by saying that I love your writing!

So while watching twd I noticed that Daryl has more tattoos in the later seasons and can only guess that they’re stick-and-poke and that he did them himself. Do you think you could write a fic where the reader(f) is in a relationship with Daryl and asks him to give her a tattoo (which she has none of btw)? I was thinking like a little arrow or something because she “wants to have something of him even when they’re apart”? And make it super fluffy and stuff?

Marked

18+ MDNI || Warnings: Needles, profanity, mostly just fluffy nice cool Daryl

Note: I am not encouraging you to give anyone or receive an at home tattoo via sewing needle or tattoo gun, but I have received my fair share of both and the descriptions in this story are just based off my vague memory of how it was done for me! It is definitely not a tattoo guide.

edited to add: tysm for the compliment ilysm <3

        "Did you always have that tattoo?" You wondered, tracing over the dark marking on his arm. The two of you were on one of your regular afternoon strolls through the woods when you decided to lay against a log and chat. The sunbeams filtered through the canopy above and littered little golden rays over his arms, highlighting the light hairs and texture of his skin. These moments were your favorite. Peaceful bliss in the natural world.

        Daryl shook his head.

        "Nah. Did it awhile back." He said.

        "How?"

        "Never had a stick-n-poke?" He asked.

        "Never had a tattoo, period. Let alone a prickle-poke." You shrugged.

        "It's stick-n-poke." He snickered silently. You glared.

        "Whatever. Can you give me one?" You asked.

        "A tattoo?" 

        "Yeah. The stick-n-prickle kind." You joked.

        "Alright." He nodded. "Gotta get some supplies together for it."

----

        You watched as he carefully burned the little sewing needle and wrapped it in thread. 

        "Why thread?" You asked.

        "Kinda helps hold the ink but mostly jus' for grip." He explained.

        He set up a tiny container on the side table of your bed with black liquid.

        "Is that ink?" You asked.

        "Mm-hmm." He nodded.

        "You made it?"

        "Uh-huh."

        "How?"

        "Soot. Alcohol. Water." He shrugged. "Ain't hard."

        "Cool." You whispered, fascinated by his expertise. 

        "Wha'd'ya want?"

        "I was thinking about an arrow." You said. "A small one. Real simple." He raised an eyebrow. "For you, dummy."

        "I got that but.. Why?" He tilted his head a little.

        "'Cause. I wanna have something for you... Always. Even when we're apart." You said with a soft smile. He hid his face bashfully, not wanting to expose the little blush that was creeping over his features. Instead, he pretended to adjust the thread around the needle.

        "Where ya want it?" He asked when his flushed cheeks returned to their normal sunkissed glow.

        "Right here." You pointed to your ring finger, right where a ring would go.

        "Ya sure?"

        "Mm-hmm." You nodded surely. He wiped some alcohol over that spot to disinfect it.

        "Alright." He said. He delicately grabbed your finger and held it in place. "Y'ready?"

        "I've had worse than a little pin prick." You giggled. "I'm ready."

        Without another word, he got to work carefully poking the needle through your skin, freehanding a perfect line. You watched in awe, studying his look of concentration, the way he tilted his head to see though his hair, holding your finger up close to his face to make sure every detail was perfect. It only took about twenty minutes. You looked it over when he finished, holding your hand up the way someone does when they're admiring their engagement ring.

        "Wow." You grinned. "How did you make such a perfect line?"

        "Ain't perfect." He shrugged.

        "It is! I love it." You insisted. A half smile curled at the corner of his lips.

        "'M glad, 'cause it don't wash off." He joked. You rolled your eyes.

        "This is no laughing matter, Daryl. You just proposed to me, ya know." You said in mock seriousness.

        "What?" His eyes widened. Even under the tan skin, his face still drained of color. 

        "Yeah," you pressed on. "This is my ring finger. Like, the ring finger. And you permanently marked it with something symbolic to yourself." You gloated.

        He blinked. He couldn't tell if you were joking or not.

        "Anyways, I'm gonna go talk to Carol about planning the wedding. I bet Rosita and Tara would be beautiful bridesmaids." You rambled. "Oh, and instead of cake, everyone gets a glass of moonshine!"

        "I don' think.."

        "I'm kidding, genius." You rolled your eyes. He relaxed a little. "Thanks though. I love it."

        He cleared his throat and stood up, cleaning his workspace so not to clutter your bedroom.

        "Oh, by the way.. This is the ring finger." You smirked. He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head.

        "Don't go showin' the whole damn world and tellin' 'em we're married." He grumbled.        

        "Would that be so bad?" You pouted. He smirked and planted a kiss on your forehead.

        "Nah. But I ain't proposin' with no damn stick-n-poke. Gon' find ya somethin' better than that."

        Your face lit up, practically brightening the entire room.

        "You're gonna propose?!" You bounced with joy.

        "Wha-- I didn't--"

        "Oh, my god! I have to tell Carol!!" You squealed as you darted out of the room. He stood there expressionless, processing what he had just done.

        "Shit." He mumbled. It wasn't that he wouldn't propose one of these days. He'd love to call you his forever. Otherwise, he never would have marked you with something that represented him in the first place. It was just.. That it would draw so much attention to him. He sighed. He guessed he walked right into that one.

---

        "When did you do this?" You asked him, holding up his ring finger that was now decorated with a little cloud shape.

        "Yesterday." He shrugged.

        "Is that a cloud?" You eyed it closer.

        "Mm-hmm." 

        "For what?"

        "Dunno. Ya always stare up at the clouds when we take long drives." He explained. "Now we're both marked."

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

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[drxmxss]

do yall remember a week or two ago when taeyong liked that cute video of that couple staying up with their baby on reels…and everyone was like aww he wants to be a dad so bad how sweet…(or also that he wants to be pregnant but that’s neither here nor there)

edit: heres the link btw!

https://x.com/taeyongpictures/status/1739896348520980920?s=46

well! imagine you and him have been married over a year now and you start to notice he’s been having a bad case of baby fever.. always tagging you and sending you videos of cute little funny baby videos on tiktok and mommy vlogs saying “wouldn’t you look cute doing this?” and dragging you around the store to look at baby clothes bc how are hats that small!! just gushing and cooing at the itty bitty pink socks with bows and you swear you see a tear in his eye.

obviously you aren’t oblivious to this. you knew having a family was one of his goals, and it was yours too!! but both of you worked and even though he made enough to support the both of you and more, you’d assumed he would wait a while after marrying you, but after he had literally squealed in the middle of the store over a tiny pair of overalls you decided it was time to have the conversation with him again.

“honey…do you want to have a baby?” you ask softly one evening in bed, your arms are wrapped around his waist as you both start to fall asleep. taeyong almost breaks your arms flipping over so fast to look at you with bright wide eyes.

“why? do you? what brought this up? are you thinking about it?” he asks you quickly, hands on your shoulders. you smile softly at him, thinking how cute he looks when he’s so excited about this.

“well anyone would be stupid not to see how badly you do..you almost burst into tears looking at baby clothes and my entire fyp is just babies babies babies from everything you send me. you obviously do.” you say. taeyong frowns now, looking a little guilty “well yeah but..i don’t wanna pressure you if you aren’t ready..”

“Of course I’m ready my love..I just wanted to make sure you were.” you reply, hugging him close.

hearing that made taeyong snap almost instantly. that night he’d made it his mission to cum in you at least 3 times, saying “I don’t care if your birth control doesn’t wear off yet this is practice baby we gotta get ready for the real thing.” right after he makes a calendar marking the days of when you would be ovulating next.

“the real thing” turned into a big event for the two of you. you thought his baby fever would settle a but after telling him you were ready to start a family, but if anything it made it crazier. everyday he made sure to bend you over anywhere and everywhere to take him raw, at the blink of an eye he was ready and it always made you feel so special that he was that excited to breed you :(( he’d love how compliant you are and loves to just fill you up all day everyday. the thought of you round with his babies just sets something feral off in him.

and now instead of just looking at the baby clothes he was buying them by the rack not even bothering to care about the gender. “maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll have twins.” he’d tell you. everyday a package came with a new pair of booties. “im not even pregnant yet taeyong!” you say, opening another box to reveal another pair of footie pajamas the perfect size for a newborn.

“i know but isn’t it the cutest thing baby?” taeyong coos, folding the pajamas neatly and storing them in the already too full closet in your shared bedroom.

one night, while he’s scrubbing your skin softly in the bath after yet another attempt he whispers “i think this time worked darling..i feel it..”and the thought alone makes you beam, his fever starting to rub off on you more and more. “i think so too my love..” you mumble back, admiring the way the water and his arms feel around you.

a few weeks later, you start to feel a bit ill and decide to take taeyong with you to the doctors office, a positive pregnancy result makes the both of you giddy, all smiles and kisses in the little observation room.

“by the way” the doctor says, flipping a few pages on the chart, “it looks like it’s twins!congratulations!”

you have to catch taeyong before he falls to the floor, but the excitement doesn’t falter still.

[inkameswetrust]

My Love/Hate Relationship With Lomille

Logan and Camille are very distinct characters that I feel thrive the more they spend time apart. Their personalities don't mesh well, they're deceitful to one-another, they have very few boundaries, they don't communicate their wants/needs well enough, they don't listen to each other, they can never truly decide whether or not they like each other, and I'm convinced they're only together because of their attraction for one another. I could spend hours explaining in full detail every toxic facet that their relationship is predicated on, but there is one instance that I can never stop thinking about.

YOU PICKED CAMILLE SOLELY FROM A LOVE SCIENCE EXPERIMENT???? AND WHEN SHE ASKED YOU ABOUT IT YOU LIED TO HER FACE?????

Keep in mind that they'd been dating for a year or longer at this point in the series. How do you keep that hidden from someone so long? How do you have the heart or the will to suppress such a huge lie? This is the one thing I'll never forgive Logan for because even though this was glossed over in the show, I could never imagine doing that to somebody.

Logan and Camille cause more harm than good to each other. But I can't hate them too much. I remember being sixteen and in a faulty on-and-off relationship with someone I thought I was crazy about. I can't deny that this is an accurate depiction of a common real-life scenario that many teenagers can and have experienced. I can't be mad at Nickelodeon for writing Lomille the way they did. But I can be mad that they're masking their toxicity with "love". They do not love each other. Their relationship would've been fine in their faults and flaws if they were just honest about purely being attracted to each other and nothing more.

That being said, I made a shitty Lomille angst edit several months ago that I'd like to share. I chose to create this edit to xoxosos by Keshi. I feel the snippet of lyrics featured in this edit perfectly describe the Lomille dynamic and how they chose to interact with one another in their relationship.

On and off, off and on I don't wanna f*ck around Swore we were still in love Got me seein' XO's XO's, yeah XO's XO's, yeah (Carry me home like you used to) On and off, off and on I don't wanna f*ck around Swore that we had enough Got me seein' XO's XO's, yeah XO's XO's, yeah

SO, SOS SO, SOS SO, SOS SO, SOS

Here are some additional lyrics to the song that were not featured in this edit but that I feel continue to perfectly describe their flawed relationship.

Do whatever you say Do whatever you want me to Baby I'm okay You can wreck my heart in two Yeah we made mistakes But I wanna see this through Baby it's okay Let me put it back for you

I might remake this edit just for funsies. I enjoy indulging in the angst Big Time Rush has to offer. And to all the Lomille shippers out there... why?

[at1ias]

@existencebringsonlypain I had to make this a post cause it got too long {side note, hi I'm in the soul segment now, I wrote this when I just started, IT GOT WAY TOO LONG HOLY FUCK} TW: mention of suicide Also, I might get things wrong: feel free to correct me. ALSO: for more in depth stuff, go look at Genius I guess cause as much as d love too, I don't wanna spend all day here- ALSO ALSO: Go listen to the album! It's really good!

The songs referenced in this post are Chonny's {who I will refer to as CJ} covers of Miracle Musical's "The Mind Electric". The covers are from CJ's album, "Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium" {I will refer to this as CCCC}, which consisted of "covers" of Tally Hall, Miracle Musical, Rob Cantor, and Joe Hawley songs. I quoted the word cover, because sometimes he writes entirely different lyrics. Now for the explanations.

Take a description of the characters I wrote a month ago! FYI: they're all parts of this guy called Whole {he represents CJ!}

Heart is one third of the whole, and is seen as the “emotional one” by Mind. He is also the one seen in more control of Whole in the beginning of the album. His voice in the album is represented by having no effects added, along with being softer. He has a mutual hatred to Mind. He is blind, and therefore also wears a blindfold. It is not specified when he was blinded, and is up to individual interpretation, though seemingly the most popular one being after the “Juno incident”, which I will cover later. Fun fact, HE HAS A GUN?! He represents the Moon, and has a mostly purplescheme. HMS each has a monochrome color that represents them, Heart’s being white. He has also been referred as “Resident Heart”, “The emotional side”, “Juno”, and “Artemis”. He has purple lipstick.

Mind is the second third we talk about, and is the “cold, logical” one, and finds Heart useless due to his emotions. After “The Ruler of Everything”, he is seen to have more control of Whole. His voice is the most distinct, which, THANK GOD- and is deeper and more monotone. Due to “The Ruler of Everything”, and Heart’s last lines in “The Heart Acoustic”, a majority of the fandom sees Mind as an android/ automaton. He has a blue color scheme. He represents the sun and the color black. He’s referred as “Mr. Mind”, “Automaton freak”, and “Apollo”. He has blue lipstick.

Soul is the final third. He is the peacekeeper, working to bring together Heart and Mind, and is determined to do so, saying he’d die trying. His voice is slightly distorted, and I don’t really know how to explain it. He is the one most representing Whole, and is seen in mostly two ways by the fandom, “Mom and Dad are fighting again”, and, “The children are fighting again.”. He has a glowing red trident, matching his red color scheme. In fanon, and sort of canon, Soul has a chicken named Darrel, created by Socialc1imb due to Mucka Blucka (Intro to Cacophony) having chicken noises, and was canonized in the music video for “The Bidding” by OpalTheThing. Confirmed by Chonny, Soul does drink Monster Energy {I think that's true, probably???}. He really wants Whole back and hates the constant fighting. He represents the color gray and the stars {some people see it as something else though}. He’s referred as “The host”, “a madman”, “insane”, “peacekeeper”, and “Atlas”. He has red lipstick. 

Finally, Whole. Also known as Harmonia {though some people see them as separate entities} , he is what happens when HMS goes into concord. Not much to say here. Again, he’s also a representation of Mr. Jash himself!!! {EDIT START} Oh wait also here's a quote from Mr. Jash's QnA mostly for me to save but uhm. How are Soul’s, Whole’s and Heart’s vocals distinct from each other? How did you decide on these differences? Why did you make Mind’s voice so distinct from the others? The main difference between Soul and Heart is the type and intensity of their pitch-correction. Heart is made to sound like a normal take, using pitch-correction only to fine-tune the notes that they sing to sit better in the music, while Soul’s is heavily cranked to sound almost robotic, even though each is in the same register. For some songs, Soul’s vocals also get layered on top of a Vocoder that’s programmed to replicate the melody of the song (noticeable in Two Wuv and Light.) The fact that Mind’s voice is so distinct isn’t really a specific choice I made, just that out of the three characters, he seemed to best suit it. Finally, from a sound/mixing/production point of view, the voice of ‘Whole’ as you all seem to refer to me is almost identical to Heart’s. This isn’t really for any thematic reasons, and instead just because it feels the most natural. {EDIT END}

Alright we aren't going to talk about Whole much by the way- So, The Heart Acoustic {I will refer to this as THA} is Heart singing a song from Apathy {I'm pretty sure Apathy is a hole}. He is in Apathy, from what the fans dub, "The Juno Incident", an event where Heart attempted to shoot Mind, but missed. He got sent to Apathy as a punishment. It's what I like to call, Heart going on a rant. Importantly, at the end of the song, Heart says this, "Do what you want, you automaton freak, no I can no longer bring myself to care, this hollowed out vessel's beginning to creak, so take control, let's see how you fare." Automaton freak refers to Mind and vessel refers to Whole, by the way. This is Heart's way of saying, "I give up." The Mind Electric, {TME} Is what I like to call, Mind's third and final "diss track" to Heart {The "diss tracks" in question being songs, "Be Born", "Storm and a Spring", and "The Mind Electric"}. Most of the song consists of him mocking Heart, here's a quote I like, "See how his feet miss the ground, and he falls inside a hole he dug for me.", This refers to Heart being in Apathy, a hole he dug for Mind as his grave for after the Juno incident. The Soul Eclectic {TSE}, A.K.A. my favourite song {yes, I'm biased cause Soul is my favourite but also this song goes HARD} Also, this song is real hard to sum up. So, the first verse is Soul kind of introducing himself. The second has Heart calling Soul a "Damn madman", and Mind calling Soul a "Depressed fool". This could also be taken as Heart and Mind talking about each other though. The last line in this verse Soul says "You seem to forget to you answer to me." This is Soul trying to claim any power he can, and he is telling the truth, Heart and Mind *do* have to answer to him. Third verse, Soul says "Neither is wrong, yet neither is right", referring to Mind and Heart's fighting. At the end, Heart and Mind share a line saying, "Condemn him to the infirmary", which I see as them trying to get Soul out of their fighting. The bridge Soul says, "You must be so arrogant to think That either of you can control The Soul so wholly, when To be one whole you can't hold solely" This is Soul talking to Heart and Mind, saying you can't control me, and you shouldn't think as such. Also, I took the usage of "Wholly" and "solely" as puns for Whole and Soul. Starting in verse 4, Heart and Mind finally start listening to Soul. In verse 5, Soul is pretty much like "I'm done with y'all's bullshit." The second bridge isn't notable, but in the interlude, Heart, Mind, and Soul all say, "I. Am. Me." {I'm only writing that because in the sound it sounds cool as fuck lmao} In the chorus, Soul says: "See how the brain plays around And it splits what once was whole down into three And you fall inside a hole, inside a- Someone help me Understand what's going on behind my eyes Doctor, I can't tell if I'm not me" The brain refers to Mind, and splitting refers to how they're all parts of Whole. The hole, again, refers to Apathy. The last three lines are Soul saying he doesn't exactly know what's happening between the three of them, even as their "host". In the second part of the chorus, Heart and Mind are fighting. Again. Shocker. In the third bridge, Soul again talks about their fighting, saying this: "See how they fight all day The other half won't hear what's had to say It's just the game they play here in this labyrinth maze" Yes, the last lyric is a reference to Labyrinth by Miracle Musical. In the outro, Soul is now fed up, and starts to threaten them. Here's the lyrics: "Screams with no sense for why One more day and more night One more black and one more white One more chance is all you've left to turn the tides Tridential regicide I won't hesitate to kill my Heart and Mind I will abdicate these deviants sat inside I'll take you down in tandem when this rope is tied"

Day / night, black / white refer to Heart and Mind's corresponding things. Soul then says he's giving them one more chance. In the last three lines, Soul threatens them, saying he'd rather die than do this. And I'm pretty sure the rope refers to a noose, which.., y'know.

SIDE NOTE IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR OVER AN HOUR, WHAT.

[sun13koi]

another vent uh it’s nothing major so I’ll put the cws I think might be needed just in case. No tags this time.

Cws for possible mentions of yelling, self expression suppression, mockery, copying, etc

In my family, it’s like I can’t do anything without a shitty half baked copy of it coming from my brother. TV shows? He has to watch them too. Friends who are at least twice his age? Too bad, his friends too in his opinion. Not even the stuff most kids find weird- therian masks and quadrobics? He’ll look like shit doing both, and won’t stop bragging about it. It feels like a mockery to my life, every time he copies me. He’s even flirted with my fucking boyfriend, who’s twice his age??? Wtf???

So as you may know, I got converse the other day. Y’know, the shoes that are popular because of art, embroidery, beads, and painting on them? That I bought specifically to do these things? My mom called it ‘ruining’ them. Like what? I’m sorry? First of all, I didn’t even do it on the fabric part of the shoe that would make it unable to be worn with the supplies I own. I painted on the white bits and the bottom. Also- I painted things that express ME. I painted trans flags, the paw lines on the top, theradelta(◯⃤), quotes, etc to express MYSELF- what I like, what makes up me, and what COMFORTS ME- and she called it ruining them. Now sure, If it were any other kind of shoe, if I hadn’t mentioned it before hand several times, if I hadn’t asked for permission, etc- I could see how it would VAGUELY be seen as that. But come on. This just felt like you were saying that my personality, beliefs, and lifestyle ruined me as a person, despite all of them being harmless. And to make matters worse, she’s even more upset because my brother who has NO sense of ‘just bc they did it doesn’t mean I have to’, decided to draw blobs that I can’t even recognize as things on his brand new Nikes.

Mine cost 20 and were an after thought. His cost 50, and he got two pairs. But when I craft on the thing I got to craft on, it’s RUINING them. Heh. Thanks, mom.

and if it were just this, I might have been a little upset, but this isn’t the first time, hence the examples I gave previously

and now despite me already doing all the research, she’s not letting me get a binder either. Even though we have a place that would give them out for FREE with CORRECT SIZING. I really don’t want to sound like a brat or picky. But is it just me, or does this feel really suppressing? I felt lucky I could get a camp halfblood shirt without her reading g every single Pjo book first.

In summery, my mom just indirectly called my self expression a waste of time, effort, and a pair of shoes, my brother can’t form an original idea and it’s made me possessive over everything and everyone I love, and I don’t know what to do <3

If you read this, uh… thanks. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to listen to this shit

and if you’re my online dad uhhh sorry for not just ranting to you like usual I don’t wanna ruin your ren faire day

EDIT: here are some photos of the ‘ruined’ converse. It doesn’t matter what she thinks since they make me extremely happy, but I just think it adds to the overall madness I feel like she has

There are lyrics from the moon will sing on the front but I couldn’t get a good photo. Everything involved I did myself and is incredibly personal to me, and I was so proud of how they turned out. I also TAUGHT MYSELF how to lace on the beads without tutorials. So yeah. Thanks for encouraging my creativity and expression, mom.

[kazumiwrites-fanfiction]

Everybody Wanna Take Her Heart Away

REQUEST: Hi hiii~ First off, a happy birthday to you! 🥳🎂 Wishing lots of happiness in life 💖 I've read some of your works and I really like your writing style! I saw your Mostro Lounge event and it took me a while to decide (because there's so many options that are sooo good; I'm indecisive haha) but I finally chose one! So I'm wondering if I could request F!Reader x Azul with the song "Steal My Girl" from the Azul to You playlist you made? I was thinking about a scenario where someone keeps pestering F!Reader to go out on a date with them (even if she already said no) and then Azul saves the day! Swooping in, holding you close by the waist, declaring "find another 'cause she belongs to me" (you get the reference 👀 haha) But I understand you already have a general idea for each so no worries~ Also, I'm sorry if this was long hahaha Again, happy birthday! Sending you cakes!! 🎂🎂🎂 Thank youuuu! ✨❤️ - @escha-evenstar

SUMMARY: Azul doesn't like how other people flirt with you. WORD COUNT: ~600

WARNINGS: Ace flirting(??) with you and making you uncomfortable, Ace does not get any hints, Azul is protective and a bit too jealous maybe?? Azul also maybe be a bit ooc. A/N: Okay so I'm not really comfortable with writing an explicitly female reader (it gives me gender dysphoria) so I did make this more neutral - however, I did try to make it as fem as I could, but I'm sorry if it's not specifically what you wanted! I love how I started writing this a month after your request, life's been hectic and I keep making rp blogs (to procrastinate on my homework). Someone needs to stop me. (I also started playing JP Twisted Wonderland too... I have a problem). I'm so sorry this is so late!! Thanks for the happy birthday wishes, I can't even believe I'm a year older now... Wow. For this event.

© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.

Azul didn't like this.

There you were, sitting all pretty and gorgeous. And he didn't mind that - he loved seeing you.

The problem in question was with Ace.

The first year had been coming up to you what seemed like every day, asking you to go on a date.

And sure, Azul knew that you wouldn't agree - you weren't the type of person to do something like that - but that didn't mean that he wasn't jealous.

He knew that he didn't make your relationship that public. Sometimes holding hands, walking you to class… That was mostly it. Most of the Octavinelle students, as well as some of the second years, knew, but other than that? Hardly anyone.

And anyways, he didn't want you to get more attention than was necessary.

Maybe Ace didn't know, and that was why he was doing this… But surely Grim had told him. Unless Grim had a problem with him too…

He gritted his teeth as Ace sidled up to you again, a casual arm slipping around your shoulders. Though, a small smile crossed his lips as he saw you shake his arm off.

"C'mon, kantokusei. One date?" Ace nudged you gently, a grin on his face. "C'mon, I know you like me~"

Azul sighed softly, feeling a small pang in his chest. Perhaps Ace wasn't entirely wrong, and that was why you hadn't given him a hard no? Yes, he saw you push Ace away multiple times, tell him to stop… But obviously it hadn't been harsh enough to drive off Ace.

Still, a nagging feeling in him told him that perhaps you weren't able to be assertive enough to get Ace to listen. Maybe he should jump in…

Over the past couple of weeks, you had gradually grown uncomfortable around Ace. You viewed him as a friend - just that, nothing more and nothing less.

But he seemed to view you as something more. And that definitely made you feel less than friendly toward the first year.

Even as he tried to touch your arm again, you whacked his hand away. "Stop it, Ace."

"But-"

The orange-haired male was cut off as Azul walked up to the two of you, a casual arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

"What seems to be the matter?" Azul's voice, though polite, had a bit of an edge to it. His eyes were slightly narrowed, annoyance flashing in his gaze.

"Hey, I was just being friendly toward kantokusei, and teasing them a little bit-"

"That is definitely not the case, and both of us know it. Find another person because kantokusei-san belongs to me."

Azul's voice was cold - it was pretty clear that he was at his limit.

Ace seemed to back off after that, turning and walking away. You breathed a sigh of relief before you looked at Azul.

"Thank you for that," you said softly, moving to hug him tightly.

"Of course. It's my duty as your boyfriend." Azul was glad that you were happy - it seemed he had made the right call. He would have to make sure Jade and Floyd kept a closer eye on Ace… There was no telling how he could start harassing you again.

Still, as he held you close to him, he felt himself relax. Everything was fine - you were content, you were safe, and most of all? You were his.

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

This post has details for requesting. Please check it out!

[laylawatermelon]

I'm thinking about it and I wonder if the reason Buddie is so compelling (aside from the parallels) is the fact that they're one of the few couples on the show that has storylines getting together within the show.

Madney is a popular one (what the hell they all are🤷🏾‍♀️), but that developed over the seasons giving fans an (adorable) anchor to rest on.

So did Buddie.

For Bathena, it was a speed run but it made so much sense. They were both older and had established lives before meeting each other and when they decided they were it for each other they were it. (I'm gonna make myself cry 😭)

And HenRen, oh my beautiful henren, their relationship was told backwards and forwards if that makes sense.

They were already established as a complete family who worked together. The storyline who shall not be named was wild and I don't even wanna say it asked commitment to each other after “challenges “ (made of ones volition but i digress) is one that they're dedicated to.

that's so ironic

(I'm low-key heated but I'll talk about that in another post)

But as I was saying about the Buddie of it all, it logistically and thematically it makes sense.

Two friends whose bond grows over time eventually start to see each other in a new light as they go through life and death together.

Sounds great right? A perfect love story?

BAM, they're men!

Ooooh how about bromance and call or a day.

Yes we know they're coparents but *whispers* we may have accidentally given ammo to the lughtuhbuh squad

Ignore me i be joking to much 😔🤣

But truly once you remove gender and focus only on the emotional beats they share, they mirror any and all romantic paintings from this show and various others. (I'm looking at the rookie fans who i now my head in mourning with you through this tough time rn *I've not seen a minute of the show*)

It's not a crime to see it as romantic when evidently it's written as one.

I've seen many fan edits paralleling their emotional hits (hell the cell block gunshot episode and bathena's final arc about the missing girl is a recycled mini plot/scene *very effective*)

But honestly if you look at it as a love story it will become apparent.

And as the show goes on the more they begin to parallel and blur into something of a blatant pairing.

Now less objective more emotional personal, as a panromantic (taking love is love to a next level amirite?) I literally don't see the problem with a lot of same sex ships and this is a really great example.

If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck it's a fuckin duck to me. (Excuse my French teehee🤗 just had to get the point across)

But forreal though.... Who was messing with my ship?! We gotta talk!

Open up Fox! I gotta talk to you! 🤗🗣️🔊🔊📢

I've had them less than a few months but Imma protect them until the day i die! (Unless of course morals and all that)

But I hope you like this, this was unplanned.

[sagittato]

This is my first post and it’s gonna be low effort because I swear I can’t get this off my mind—

Do people from twisted wonderland realize how much Azul Ashengrotto could potentially look up at Vil Schoenhiet??? ONLY @jxnebuggy ACKNOWLEDGES THIS IN HER fem!twst FANFICS AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE!!!

Vil is a successful, confident, drop dead gorgeous fashion icon. He has a whole business for cosmetics because he’s so gorgeous. He’s very skilled in potion making, so much so bro makes his OWN makeup. He has a strict diet he follows and it’s clearly gving him the results he wants. Vil Schoenheit is everything Azul wants to be!! On top of that, Vil is Azul’s bloody UPPERCLASSMAN.

And does everyone forget how Azul literally info dumped about the man in Book 5 Chapter 2?? Nobody talks about it. They’re too busy headcannoning Sebek or Riddle or Floyd to be neurodivergent af (jkjk)!! Such a shame Vil told him to stfu but in his own pretty, 3w4-coded ways😔😔

Azul has shown before he will invest inhumane amounts of time into things he thinks are important. An example of this is in his birthday jackect card, he talked in a fair amount of detail about the quality of the pillow Ace gave him. He could do this because he researched ON pillow qualities.

It’s likely when he was trying to step up his game with success or diet, he stumbled upon Vil, researched the frick out of this guy, and lo and behold became a fan of his.

Some honourable mentions are when he made a deal with Vil in his ceremonial robes. I haven’t seen it because I wanna save the feeling of raw happiness with these two characters interacting once I get the card. If we didn’t see Azul show any sort of fan behaviour when Vil made that deal then I firmly believe he was kicking, giggling, twirling his hair off camera behind closed doors over it. Then I do hear in the second Camp Vargas event, Azul and Vil had some more interactions! I thiiiiiiink they were getting competitive with each other??? That changes nothing from my ignorant eye. It’s NRC. Everyone is really competitive and will turn on each other’s backs faster than Leona can fall asleep (bro’s actually depressed, I swear).

Anyway, I think it’s only right I list my headcanons now for them:

Azul gobbles up any dietary/beauty tips Vil has

Azul uses Vil’s makeup brand that’s probably vegan

He also collects Vil’s magazines and puts them all in a box hidden away in his closet or under his bed

Vil probably finds him annoying💀💀💀 (what can I say? he has a reputation for not stfu around higher class people)

Elaborating on that, Vil does respect his success but I bet he can see the unhealthy greed that lies under it all. Thus, that’s prolly a reason why he would try to distance himself away from Azul.

BADLY wants to collaborate with Vil because Mostro Lounge profits would soar if they did. Knowing his bold arse he probably made the request at least thrice and Vil shut him down each time. He’s obviously not gonna stop because we all know him. (never back down never what—)

Yes, I know he canonically looks up to Ursula, but I think he would like someone… yknow… alive to look up to.

Keep in mind I’m only on Book 5 Chapter 29 as of this moment so it’s totally possible I missed some things! Leave your opinions, headcanons, or anything else in the comments, I’d love to see them! Do leave spolier warnings though. That way I can decide whether I wanna spoil things first myself or not.

EDIT: I already fixed it but did I really just say book 6 😭😭😭 i meant book 5 i am so sry hdgdhjjjdhdjj

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Heyyyy so I was wondering if u could do a Aaron hotchner x male reader where the reader is pennys brother (and maybe autistic if your comfortable writing that 😅 if not it’s fine) and reader is on the team and the team doesn’t know about reader and hotch but one day penny sees them together in public? If not it’s fine! Love your work ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: kissing, (super) brief mention of meltdown and sensory overload, that's all I believe

Word count: 766

A/N: Hey, I tried to best to add an autistic reader, I'm not sure how it turned out? I struggled quite a bit with it, I'm not very good with getting characters to have their own voice if that makes sense, they're all just kind of projects of me? Aha, but please please please let me know if there's anything I can edit or change and let me know if anything's harmful or offensive and I will immediately change it. Thank you for sending this request though, I thought it was super cute :)

"Everyone go home, get some rest," Aaron says, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment before he looks away. You fight the grin from your face, instead you subtly tap your fingers against each other. Index finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, ring finger to thumb, little finger to thumb, and repeat. "I want you all back bright and early Monday morning," 

It was Friday evening, you had all just gotten back from a case. A relatively simple one, as far as serial killers go. Nothing too difficult, especially because the local authorities had already interviewed the unsub - twice. But anyways, it was Friday. Aka, Date Night with Aaron. He caught your eyes for a minute and gave a small smile before he retreated to his office. 

“Hey, (Y/N),” You look up, giving your sister a lopsided grin. “The gang and I are all going to the bar, wanna come too?”

You shake your head, “No thanks, I’m going to stay here and finish this report and head home,” You answer, guilt gnawing at your stomach from lying to Penelope. “Next time?”

“Alright, baby brother, but I expect you to live up to that,” You don’t reply but find yourself smiling at Penelope as she pats your shoulder as she walked past. You weren’t a fan of a lot of physical contact. There were only three exceptions to this: your mum, Penelope, and now, Aaron. They were also the only ones who were able to calm you down during a sensory overload or meltdown. You didn’t mind small amount of physical contact from the other members of the team if you had some warning, but you weren’t as comfortable when they did it as you were with Penelope and Aaron - and the team understood, so it wasn’t often that they’d pat your shoulder, nudge your arm, and such. They made sure to respect your boundaries but make it known they were there for you should you need them. 

It’s not long before Aaron’s ready and you’re heading to your usual restaurant - nothing too fancy, but modest. Two hours later and you’ve both finished and decide to go on a small walk before heading back to Aaron’s to watch a movie. After half an hour of walking, you both sit on a bench, watching the night life, content and peaceful. 

“I’m so glad we’re together,” You muse, head resting on Aaron’s shoulder.

“I’ve never been happier,” Aaron responds. Lifting your head, you look at him with a small smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You never need to ask,” And with that, lean up, gently connecting your lips to his, the pair of you smiling into the kiss. 

“(Y/N)?!” You pull away from Aaron immediately, turning towards the sound of Penelope’s voice. “Hotch?!”

You feel Hotch tense beside you, “Penelope,” You say, keeping your voice level. “We can explain…”

“We’ve been…” Aaron began, sensing that you were unsure of how to actually start.

“Seeing each other,” You jump in, giving Aaron a small smile.

“For a few months now,” Aaron finishes. Penelope continues to gawk at the pair of you. Aaron clears his throat slightly, an anxious habit of his that only you seemed to notice. “I should probably let you two talk, I’ll be in the bar if you need me,” He says softly, placing a delicate kiss to your temple as he stands. 

With Aaron now gone, Penelope turns back to you. “How? How could you not tell your favourite big sister penelope?!” You shift anxiously as she stares at you, the large smile on her face telling you she was clearly happy, but it did little to relieve your anxieties.  

“We work together, Penny, more than that, he’s our boss. If Strauss were to find out-”

“No!” Penelope exclaims, “We will make sure she never ever finds out!” You chuckle slightly.

“Good, because Aaron might actually kill me if she does-”

“She will never find out!” Penelope declares.

“Penny, I hate to be the bearer of bad news - but you can’t keep a secret to save your life.” You joke, Penelope holds her hand on her chest as she gasps dramatically in mock offence. 

“How dare you-”

“What? I’m not lying, it’s true!” You laughed.

“Doesn’t mean you need to say it out loud,” She teases before she links your arms together, “Come on, let’s go join them in the bar, maybe try and convince Hotch - or my future brother in law - to reveal the secret to the rest of the team,”

“I don’t think we’re ready for that just yet,”

[incorrect-spideytorch]

Hey I’ve had a bad day :(

here’s a free invitation to rant about anything Spideytorch —> 💌

I’m sorry you had a bad day but I am very excited about this invitation!

~

I have decided to rant about this panel and the trauma our boys got from it

so Red Skull is out here being a villain and uses mind control to f**k with the heroes and we get to this moment where Red Skull is like wow you two are super close gay for each other so I’m gonna make one of you watch the other die and I’m going to use mind control to do it which is so incredibly twisted

like Peter is hearing his best friend the love of his life say (against his will) that he is going to make Peter watch as he end his life. I cannot imagine how terrifying it is to hear the voice of the man you love say that and to know that neither of you have any control

then we get to the Johnny side of things. Johnny had had his free will taken away from him and Red Skull is trying to use that to not only end his life but do so to hurt Peter by making him watch! I am also a winterhawk shipper (Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes) and a lot of fics for that ship talk about their shared trauma of losing free will and not having control over yourself (Loki and Hydra for them) and how much that messes you up, Johnny is dealing with this!! sure it’s not lasting as long and it’s a different situation but my boy is still going through that and he is being used as a weapon to his lover and himself it makes me wanna scream

obviously they’re superheroes and all of this shit with Red Skulk gets resolved but the trauma of this situation I don’t think gets talked about enough in the fandom, specifically spideytorch shippers like this is great angsty fic fodder,

so here’s some of my angsty thoughts about what happens after

Johnny wakes up panicked and holding his head every night for weeks convinced Red Skull is still in there

when the nightmares got really bad Peter had to hold Johnny down so he didn’t try to harm himself in an attempt to get Red Skull out of his head

neither of them feel safe when Johnny has anything that could even remotely be used as a weapon

Johnny avoids the kitchen cause all he sees is ways that Red Skulk can kill him in front of Peter

Peter had an anxiety attack when Johnny was sitting on the roof with him because he could only hear mind controlled Johnny saying he would make Peter watch him die and pictured Johnny falling

they develop code phrases and questions to ask to reassure each other that the other isn’t mind controlled

for at least a year after anytime Johnnys voice sounds different, even if it’s just cause of a cold Peter gets nervous and demands a code phrase

to be honest they spend a lot of days right after the Red Skull incident together on the couch eating takeout and cuddling with minimal conversation

it takes a while for Johnny to trust his own mind and body again afterwards and Peter doesn’t know how to fix that which is really frustrating for him

when Johnny feels out of control he doesn’t want Peter nearby because he doesn’t want Peter to have to watch whatever might happen next

of course Peter can’t bare to leave Johnny so they had to develop a solution for that

Peter will sit around the corner or on the other side of a door so he can still be there but not see Johnny, it’s a weird loophole but it works for them

they do a lot of forehead touches after this

so many forehead touches

thank you again anon for your ask and for permission to rant! I hope this made your day better, even though it was a bit on the angstier side. if you want something fluffier just send another ask my way

EDIT: someone in the tags mentioned that Peter’s spidey senses are going off even though he’s not the one in physical danger and I will be screaming for the next 8 years

[madrabit]

Hi! ❤️ I'm here for FanFic Ask Game: F, G and X please :3

Heho 🩷✨️

Thank you for the ask, I had to really dig deep with this one 😂

If anyone else wants to ask me something about my fics, feel free to look at this list!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ohhhhh, that is a tough question, I tend to like the dialogue I write, but it's not always my main focus, and I'm also not necessarily the funniest person, so... also, I couldn't decide, so you can have a sad dialogue, sth spicey and maybe an honourable mention or sth😂

for clarity, I've taken out a few parts of non dialogue for readability. If you want to read the whole thing, feel free to click the links!

"I'm sorry I didn't come with you", he continued when the other two didn't say anything, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said no."

So first, I have this snippet of You're the only one who can:

"I'm sorry for not being able to be honest", he pressed out, getting closer to the bed.

"For not being brave enough..."

"I didn't want this...", he said, his knees finally hitting the mattress, "I didn't want to make you feel like this..."

"I love you, both of you. So much. I didn't want to make you feel like I don't want you, don't need you, because I do. I need you so much that it scares me..."

"I don't want to have to hide you anymore", Jan said lowly, pressing their foreheads together.

This might be more of a monologue since it's mostly Bojan talking, but I honestly really like this, as well as Jan's reply. I liked writing it. It made me tear up, and I think it's showing a lot of the emotional chaos Bojan is going through in that fic and how much he still loves his boyfriends and how much he needs to show them, even though he doesn't wanna go public yet. It's cute and idk, I don't really like going on about my writing that much 😂😂

The other snip of dialogue I have is from chapter two of At your beck and call (I wanna ride):

"Isn't he perfect like that, Janči? Such a good boy for us", Nace says lowly.

"Yeah, he is", Jan presses out through his teeth.

"You know what would make him even more perfect? How he would look even better?" "He'd be even hotter dripping with both our come, fucked out, sloppy and wet, a good little boy, just for us."

It's the first fic North and I collabed on and it's still one of my favs. This is pure filth and Nace "Mr. Cum Kink" Jordan is running his mouth to get what he wants. Idk what possessed me here, but it felt right having Nace dirty talk like that, cause I think he'd be good at it ngl

Now to some honourable mentions 😂

I really like most of the dialogue I wrote in Intertwined.

Especially the little dialogue in the second chapter between Jan and Kris, where Jan was in front of the door waiting for Kris to buzz open the door for him because he didn't want to get out his key.

Or in chapter four (the big sad as I like to call it) when Bojan met Nace who was on a walk with Oli and they had their little back and forth about whether or not the band would've just taken any bassist as long as they got a dog that then shifted into Bojan talking about Igor being a good kitty.

I also have some dialogue from fics that are not yet published or where the next chapter isn't up yet, so if you want to know more about those, feel free to ask me 😊

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I wish I could just write my scenes out of order, that would make my process much easier and probably faster, but since I'm constantly coming up with things on the go and don't really like having to decide early what I still have to write, I don't really like doing things out of order. This sadly leads me to sometimes being stuck tho, so that's why writing always takes a while for me.

What I do, however, is going back and putting in more details. While I need to write things from start to finish, I love editing and love putting in little touches. I really hate having a blank page, so I hate having to come up with the first sentence of a fic or the beginning. I stall and don't know what to do, so I'm feeling unsure and awkward. The same thing applies if I have a blank page in front of me. That's why I sometimes pre write my dialogue in one go for a scene, just so I have words I can jump between and don't have the dread of the great nothing holding me back.

Also because sometimes dialogue comes easier to me, so I like writing it down and coming up with replies on the go is much easier than anything else.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Oh god... eh... I don't like making my blorbos suffer, I don't enjoy them being sad and I'm not a fan of unnecessary hurt... with what I'm writing in Intertwined, you might be convinced otherwise tho and somtimes I'm not too entirely convinced myself, ngl. But if by suffering, we mean crying, I do absolutely enjoy having Bojan cry (but mostly in a begging, shaking, sobbing way, less the actual real tears because he's sad), so yeah 😂😂😂