#it's not that i look at things and can't remember their names or what they're for/get knives mixed up with newspapers
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skzstannie · 1 day ago
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"My Soulmate"
SKZ -> Hyunjin x fem!reader
genre: slight angst, crack, vampire/soulmate AU wc: ~2,200 cw: none
summary: being kidnapped and brought to your vampire soulmate is something you never knew you needed... until now.
A/N: Hello again! Life's been crazy, and I've actually had this written since forever ago, so I decided to go ahead and edit and post it! Hope you enjoy :)
Alsoooo, I survived the Ticketmaster war and was able to snag some SKZ tickets to the Chicago show!!!
Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist
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"Please be careful. That area is so sketchy, especially at night. Infested with those dastardly vampires, I'll tell ya."
"Mom, I'm fine. The bus station is only a mile down the road, and I'm almost there," you speak into the phone.
Your mom gives a disappointed sigh from the other end. "Sweetie, I've heard so many stories of girls going missing on that street. I really wish you would've listened to me and taken a different way home."
"I've always taken this way home from work; why are you so worried about it now?" The more you speak with your mom, the more paranoid you become. All the shadows out of the corner of your eye appear as humans, lurking behind buildings and in alleyways.
"Because a girl was killed just last week walking around down there, not to mention she was by herself. Just like you!" she screeches over the line. You have to pull the phone away from your head to protect your poor eardrums. "It was a gang that took them! What was their name again? Stray dogs? Stray... Stay? I can't remember."
"It's Stray Kids, mom. I'm sure they're not even around these parts anymore now that the cops are looking for them."
Too focused on your surroundings rather than the ground beneath you, you trip and fall over a large lip in the sidewalk. Your body hits the ground, and you immediately clutch your knee. Your legs are littered with scrapes and scratches, but your knee in particular has blood dripping down it. Pieces of dirt cover your skin, unpleasantly sticking to your wound and the oozing blood.
You startle from the sudden cold breeze you feel over your shoulder. You turn abruptly, hissing when your leg rubs against the ground. Another gust of wind brushes past your front, and you're quick to twist around again. Your heartrate picks up at the eeriness of the situation, your hands turning clammy.
Suddenly, a being materializes in front of you. A scream catches in your throat when another appears next to him. Both are dressed in normal clothing, albeit entirely black in appearance, the only color emitting from the two beings in front of you coming from their pale skin. It's almost sparkling under the glow from the streetlights.
They stand and stare for a moment, and the silence is palpable. As you make eye contact with them, you take notice of their eye color- a deep, fiery red. You feel as though you’re in a hypnotic state as you continue to stare into their eyes. Your surroundings become blurred the longer you look, and you begin to feel dizzy as the world around you begins to spin.
You can faintly hear your mom screaming at you through your phone, calling out for you with panic in her voice, but you can't seem to look away from the boys in front of you.
The dizzier you feel, the calmer you become. It's a weird sensation, feeling all your anxiety and fear just slipping from you. The last thing you see is the muscular man in front of you approaching before you close your eyes from the exhaustion. It came out of nowhere, but it's all-consuming as all thoughts leave your head, and you're left their laying limp and vulnerable.
~ ~ ~
Your eyes feel heavy as you open them, and the bright lights are blinding as they invade your vision. Reaching up to rub your eyes, you quickly realize that your arms are tied behind your back. Becoming aware of your surroundings, you feel the cool plastic chair beneath you. Looking down, you see the zip ties around each of your ankles, anchoring you to the chair.
You appear to be tied up in a cell of some sort. Black, solid bars seal you off from the outside of the room. The cell is small, only about 8 ft by 8 ft if you had to guess. The floor is nothing special, just some concrete. While you can't see much from where your seated in the corner, the room around you seems empty and cold. A desk sits in the middle with a few stacks of paper on top.
Your eyes tear up at your predicament as the memories of the men dressed in all black come back to you. Question upon question spring into your head; where'd they come from? Where'd they bring you? What do they want from you?
Your worries seem to multiply by the second, and you are filled with dread as you consider the possibilities.
You know you must look amess as sweat starts to pool on your forehead, not only from the temperature of the room but also the imminent danger present upon you. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you desperately pull at the zip ties holding you hostage.
A door creaks open while in the middle of your struggle, and you freeze. Voices fill the open space, and your mouth runs dry at the thought of meeting your captor.
"I told you, we won't be getting our next shipment of blood for another couple weeks. You're just gonna have to hold off-" the voice cuts off as the man walks around the corner. He makes eye contact with you. He shares the same eye color as the men that took you, but you know from the facial features that this isn't the same one.
The man heaves a sigh, his eyes never leaving yours. "I've gotta call you back," he says before hanging up the phone. Without uttering another word, the man walks back out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.
It feels as if hours have gone by the next time you hear the door open. This time, cries of pain fill the silent void. You become alert at that, straightening up in your seat. Curiosity fills your gaze as you’re welcomed with the man from earlier, this time accompanied by two more.
The two men are being dragged by their ears, which appears uncomfortable if the sounds of pain are anything to go by.
The man from earlier releases them once they are standing right outside your cell.
"Explain yourselves," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Both men start talking over each other immediately, making it impossible to understand either one. "One at a time you pabos!" he interrupts them, creating an uncomfortable silence.
The buff one, which you now recall as one of the accomplices to your kidnapping, gestures roughly to the other man. Taking this as his cue to explain, he begins, "We swear she's the right one this time!" His words are rushed as he gestures towards you.
"You're kidding," the man in charge says, bringing his fingers to grasp at the bridge of his nose. "We've already been over this. You two can't keep kidnapping women from off the streets just because you believe them to be Hyunjin's soulmate."
Your heart races as your brought into the discussion. Soulmate?
You've heard of soulmates, but only ever in fiction, like books and movies. From what you've read, vampires are the only beings who can initiate the soulmate bond. Thereafter, the human can feel the bond, as well.
Suddenly, the pieces fall perfectly into place as you consider all the factors. Materializing out of nowhere, the red eyes, the hypnosis. These guys are vampires. How you didn't put it together sooner, you're not sure.
The bravery you're hit with is astounding, and you can't hold yourself back from interrupting the conversation. "Who are you guys and what do you want from me?" The man's rambling stops as all three look to you.
"Hi..." the man rambling starts, "I'm Jisung, and this is Lee Know and Changbin. We've brought you here because we believe you're our friend's soulmate."
"Please just let me go. I promise not to tell anyone about this!" you plead. You don't know what being the soulmate of a vampire entails, but you surely don't want to find out.
"Oh, we can never let you go," the man in charge, Lee Know, answers. "You've seen us, experienced our presence. You either have to stay with us, or... well, we kill you. You can thank these idiots for that," he gestures to Jisung and Changbin. Jisung brings his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly.
You let out a sob at the ultimatum. You don't want to stay here forever. You want to go home, shower, and complain to your mom about work. You want to call your best friend and talk to her about the cute guy that you saw. The thought of never being able to do those things again envelopes you with sorrow, and more prominently, fear.
"Please don't cry," Jisung says, his hands coming up around the bars of the cell. "We would never want Hyunjin's soulmate to be sad."
"Jisung, we don't even know if this is his soulmate," Changbin says, his gaze piercing the side of your face.
"I'll prove it to you," he says before running out of the room, the door slamming behind him.
"I swear, I will kill both of you if this isn't the right girl. You said that the time before this was the last, and I'm getting tired of hiding dead bodies," Lee Know tells Changbin.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you suddenly really hope you are this guy's soulmate. While this doesn't sound like the greatest of situations, at least if you live you'll get a chance to escape.
Changbin and Lee Know talk amongst themselves, and your anxiety starts to build once more.
~ ~ ~
It feels as if hours have gone by the time there's movement outside your cell again. Changbin and Lee Know, having gotten tired of standing, had taken a seat on the couch towards the back of the room, busying themselves on their phones.
You're still stuck in the same position. You've been wriggling your hands around, but you've realized there's no use in trying to escape. The two men would surely notice if the zip ties came undone, and even if they didn't, you're still stuck in this cell. You don't know what lies outside this room, but you're scared to find out.
You finally hear the door swing open, and you recognize Jisung's voice, this time accompanied by another stranger. The two come into view, and your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes meet the man Jisung brought with him.
He is easily the most beautiful man you've ever seen. His eyes meet yours, and you're immediately captivated, unable to look away. It's a strange feeling, but you suddenly feel all the worry and fear being washed from you, leaving you with a feeling of peace and serenity. It's almost like you've known this man for years, the way he brought you immediate comfort in this unfamiliar place.
"My soulmate," he whispers, and at this point you can only assume this is the 'Hyunjin' they were talking about.
In the blink of an eye, he materializes in front of you, now inside the cell. He quickly brings his hands towards you, and you feel no fear. The dread that once filled your body is no more as you allow him to carefully undo the zip ties from around your wrists and ankles.
Tears still slip down your cheeks, but the emotional pain you once felt is no more. You're overcome with unfamiliar emotions, and the tears don't stop.
You feel as if you recognize Hyunjin from your dreams. Always the hero, saving you from whatever dangers are out there for waiting for you.
Once the zip ties are off, you immediately rise to your feet and reach out to hold him. He embraces you even tighter, his arms wrapping firmly around your exhausted figure.
"This is such a strange feeling, but I feel at peace now," you whisper to him, your head resting on his shoulder.
"It's because we're together. The soulmate bond, I initiated it, and you've accepted it," he whispers back. "We can be together now."
"Have I seen you before?" you ask, taking a step back to admire his beautiful features.
"Maybe in your dreams. I've visited you there before. I've known what you looked like for a long time. That's how these guys found you," he says, gesturing behind him to Jisung and Changbin.
"Yea, and it only took us two tries! Do you know how vague of a description I had to go off of?" Jisung complains.
"Because I didn't expect you to go out and try to find her!" Hyunjin exclaims, exasperated.
"Well, I figured since your birthday was coming up, I could do something nice for you. And it only costed us one casualty!"
"Which I'm still dealing with, by the way," Lee Know says.
"Yea, yea. I just had a gut feeling about it this time."
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femmeleatherface · 5 hours ago
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@caiteaz i was going to make this a reply but then it ran away from me, so sorry for the delayed response!
first up i just want to say that your interpretation of them a brotherly relationship is awesome and i love it. when all is said and done i'm personally open to really any interpretation of their dynamic, ultimately they are fictional characters and we have better things to do than argue over fake people. that's part of why i kept the romance mention in the tags rather than in the post itself
that said i am one of the people on the romance train so. i will explain my take on it!
realistically i think the main reason erik/the daroga as a ship exists is because of the susan kay novel. idk if you've read it but they are. very gay in that. it's been a while since i read it, but if i remember right at one point erik nearly steals diamonds--aka the stuff they make wedding rings out of--to give them to nadir (the daroga's name in this version). and then i remember VERY vividly erik even ponders if nadir is going to be his lover but then decides nah because erik can't comprehend the concept of bisexuality (despite clearly being open to the concept himself)
also more obscure but beloved by me if nobody else, there's the 1991 musical where the daroga swoops in at the end, plants himself on erik's bed, tries to comfort him because he's sad about christine leaving, then talks about how he's followed erik from the ends of the earth and will continue to follow him until the end of time. and then they smile and clash swords together (this is not a euphemism but sounds like it)
but in terms of the leroux novel, then for me the romantic interpretation of erik/the daroga comes from two approaches: fun reading-between-the lines of their interactions, and speculating the concept of such a relationship based on the characters themselves
from the between-the-lines approach, in the leruox novel they're antagonistic, but close. they feel almost like exes who are still kind of a little in love with each other, but also broke up for really good reasons, but also still understand each other better than everyone on the planet. i don't even read them as exes, i just think they have the vibe all on their own because their chemistry is so fun
basically, they annoy each other, but also clearly still care about each other. from erik's side of things, he doesn't drown the daroga in the lake (but is very okay drowning anyone else), and when he's at death's door at the end it's the daroga he goes to so he can tell him what happened with christine and get help fulfilling his burial wishes. and the daroga, despite literally losing everything and being exiled from his homeland because of erik, still follows erik to paris and keeps in touch with him and stalks him, really, the way erik stalks christine. (i'm a simple person, i see any parallels between same-gender relationships that are totally not romantic and hetero ones that totally are and i immediately raise my speculative gay eyebrow)
and obviously there's multiple ways that kind of relationship can be interpreted. i don't even know if leroux intended for us to read them as friends considering the daroga repeatedly calls erik a monster and they clearly get on each other's nerves. this is why i have a second approach, speculating on the concept of them
like, think about leroux erik. he desperately wants to be loved but also his relationship with christine is super unhealthy. i mean... someone who knows what he looks like and what horrors he is capable of and who still hasn't abandoned him despite losing everything for him is RIGHT THERE
and the daroga. he literally saved erik's life ages ago and never seems to regret it no matter how much evil erik commits. prior to christine's kiss, the daroga seems to have an recognition of erik's inherent worth as a human being when no one else does, even with all the times he calls him a monster. he wants erik to be alive and wants him to be happy, but also knows when to step in because he's gone too far. also he himself is an outsider in paris because he is an immigrant who is distrusted by the people around him because of his appearance, giving him a degree of empathy for what erik has been through as an "other." (i would argue christine also has this potential because she's swedish and this is even why she and the daroga are the two people able to get the most close to erik, but that's another post)
even if all that's not romantic love that's still got to be some kind of love. and considering romantic love and the so-called "intrinsic need" for it is a huge part of the novel, the romantic interpretation just makes sense theme-wise
anyway. sorry for the long post but i hope that answered your question. like i said, that's just my take. i'm sure others have different opinions because art is wonderful and subjective that way
the relationship between erik and the daroga is great because while yes, erik is the bane of the daroga's existence, the daroga is EQUALLY obnoxious to erik. for every gray hair the daroga receives from erik causing mayhem, erik receives one split end of what little hair he has left from the daroga stalking his house, butting his nose into his private life, and all around being a major buzzkill by reminding him of promises he made forever ago like "no more murders" or whatever
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Hi hello have this somewhat old Jonmartin kids concept ideas while I try not to die
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softquietsteadylove · 7 months ago
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Spicy Addams Family AU? 🔥
The curtains fluttered in the breeze, the air simply too hot to close all the windows. They swayed further into the library and then back towards the sun streaming in, as if gossiping with the rays and the shelves about what they witnessed.
His mouth was hot against hers, tongues dallying in a way she had never imagined tongues could do. She had never seen him quite so demanding, always soft spoken and amiable. He was a true gentleman, and the gentleman had his hand sliding up her leg, heavy skirts of her dress be damned.
Thena turned the page delicately, as if the sound of it would immediately alert her mother to the book of hers Thena had found sitting unguarded. She wasn't allowed to read any of Mother's romances. Something about them not being for her eyes. But she was quite ready to be free of her parents, she thought. And it was just a book.
Gil would tell her to read it.
Her back hit the shelves behind her as they continued in their lasciviousness. He uttered a sound that rumbled from his chest. His hands grew feverish, clawing up her dress until he could grasp her thigh and hoist her higher. His lips, ever demanding, pressed to her neck, following the path of her throat to the neckline of her dress.
Thena sunk further down against her many pillows. Her legs twisted under her plush white duvet. The prose of the book were certainly romantic. Perhaps more...detailed than she would have expected.
He pushed her dress up further and further. The skirts of it pooled up around him until she no longer had an unobstructed view of him. She had half a mind to ask what he was doing, but the half a mind she possessed still became hazy. His mouth pressed to the inside of her thigh, dragging her stockings down and out of his way. She did not know mouths were meant for these sorts of things.
What sorts of things?
His tongue found her first. That clever, gentle and sometimes overly honest tongue he possessed. It touched her in her barest form, sliding around the bends and folds of her. He pressed it firmly to the nerves collected at the peak of her womanhood. She had never felt such sensations before.
Thena shifted in her bed again. She wasn't entirely sure what nerves they were talking about, nor why they were calling it 'her womanhood'. She swallowed but it sounded dry to her ears, her room otherwise deathly silent. Not even Theseus was awake.
Her back arched. She ran her fingers through the thick locks of dark hair upon his head. He kissed her between her legs the same way he had her mouth. Sounds she had never before uttered escaped her. Her cheeks were flushed hot. The rest of her flushed hotter.
Thena indeed found herself pressing her fingertips to her cheeks. Her legs squirmed again. She made a face as she pressed her thighs together, a curious sensation building between them. She could picture the happenings of the book well. The man with his broad shoulders, his dark hair.
It built and built until she was on the precipice of undoing. She tilted her head up, her breasts heaving against her corset. The thick collection of her brown hair-
No, no that wasn't right. Thena squeezed her eyes shut, her legs rubbing like a cricket's. That wasn't what was in her head. She dug her shoulders into her pillow. She lost where she was on the page, hunting to continue.
His manhood-
Again with the obscurities. She at least knew the word for it.
His manhood throbbed in the open air. She had little time to examine it in its glory before he was bringing her hips closer, to the very edge of the ladder until they could be joined.
They had moved to the ladder in the bit she missed. Oh well.
She allowed him to enter her, filling her in ways she had never imagined. Her whole body folded around him, pulsing with the beating of her heart. He was thick, and he began moving immediately.
Thena pressed her lips together. Her hips swivelled and she slipped a hand under the covers. She too had to inch up the hem of her nightdress until she could find her own skin. There was a dampness between her thighs that was most certainly not her monthly.
He moved gently at first, rocking like waves against the shore. This was the act of love making. The physical profession of love, she thought. Two bodies entangled in the most intimate sense of the word. She slid her arm across his wide shoulders and tugged at the hair at the back of his head. Lovemaking was all well and good, but she wanted more.
She had heard fucking was also the physical act of love.
Thena breathed heavier as she read. Lovemaking in the poetic language became detailed, bordering on graphic. The man grew more energetic, words like 'pounding' and 'rutting' jumping out at her from the page. Her fingers, now coated in the wetness between her legs, ventured further.
Her jaw dropped faintly as she pushed where she had not pushed before. Perhaps this was the collection of nerves of which they spoke. She touched it lightly at first, before realising certain angles were too much. She changed approach, rubbing it downward from above.
She let out a faint moan, still far too loud for her echously large room lit only by her lamp. She pressed her head into her pillow, no longer concerned with what was happening on the page.
They were in the middle of fucking, as it were. The man was 'pounding' into her, his 'thickness' moving in and out of her at such speeds. Hips were rolling, bodies were writhing, it was all quite a lot.
"Gil."
She didn't mean to say it. It just...slipped out. Her mind was moving faster than before, but she also wasn't thinking clearly. Her fingers moved faster, trying to bring about something. Her head rolled to the side.
She could imagine Gil as the book's beloved hero. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair. He was kind, and had a sweet nature to him, but not without his own sense of mischief.
Gil had soft looking lips. He had a wide back and thick arms. He was warm, and he always smelled nice whenever they were in close proximity. His hand would hold hers gently as they went up or down the stairs.
She could imagine Gil's lips on her neck, like in the book. She could practically feel his hands on her skin, his sturdy but gentle grip holding her as he grasped her thighs.
"Gil," she whimpered, tracing around those nerves again. There was more wetness, now. Her hands did grow feverish (the book was right).
He would kiss her like that. She would know what it felt like for his incoming moustache to scratch her skin. Perhaps he would kiss her between her legs, like in this library scene. Would they make love? Or would they fuck?
"Yes," she gasped, eyes sealed shut and hand moving faster. He would whisper sweetly to her, call her pretty like he did that day it was raining.
Something was coming. She tried to bring it forth. She picked up speed, changed angle, went back when she felt it slipping further away. Her breathing became feverish and she felt the flush in her skin spread all over her body.
Thena rolled onto her side, squeezing her thighs around her hand as her insides pulsed rapidly. She dug her nails into her pillow and held her lips together as she made sounds she'd never heard herself make. It felt like a fever, like her muscles had been tense and finally released. It felt like relief.
She rolled onto her back again, practically panting for breath, for which she felt a little foolish. It was just her in here, with her hand and a book. She could understand why mother had forbade her from reading them. Such heretical things they printed!
She picked up the fallen book, eagerly searching for where she had left off. Not that she would be resuming her activity with it, but it was still a story in need of completion.
She nearly yelped as a tapping on her window startled her. The book fell from her grasp as she looked at her balcony. It was Gil's messenger, a corvid named Mandu. She cleared her throat, pulling up the strap of her nightdress and wrapping her shawl around her to greet the bird properly. "Come in."
The creature obliged, flapping from the rail of the balcony to her writing desk, tilting his head.
Thena flushed with guilt. Gil was asking if she'd read the book he had sent her home with from their last visit. And if she hadn't been distracted by her mother's...diversion, she would have finished it by now.
The bird eyed her, surely wanting to return home.
"Sorry," she gave him an apologetic smile before hurriedly scribbling a reply.
She was extra sorry for lying. She wouldn't normally!--not to Gil, at least. But this was a unique circumstance. So just this once, she would tell a small fib. And she would read the book right away! It wouldn't be a fib for long.
She examined the hastily scribbled message.
It's a beautiful story. I can see why you treasure it so. I'll tell you all the parts I loved most when you visit next week.
They never bothered addressing their little messages anymore. It was too formal for a correspondence they engaged in almost daily. She spritzed the paper lightly with the perfume she had been given for her birthday before folding the letter and securing it to Mandu's back.
"Thank you," she smiled at the dark feathered messenger. "Safe travels."
The bird nodded to her, too smart to crow loudly in the dead of night. He took off again, flying into the bright moonlight outside. Thena closed her glass doors with a sigh, feeling as if she'd been caught in the midst of something scandalous.
She looked over at Theseus, still asleep under his heat lamp, much to her relief. No, it was her business alone what she was doing, or reading. That book could wait though. If need be, she would return it to mother the very next morning to avoid suspicion. She could say she left it in the sunroom and feared the cover would fade in the light.
She had to finish Gil's book first. If she finished it, her message would not be a lie anymore. And then she could feel at least a little less guilty about the events of this night.
How she would look him in the eye when she did see him next was another matter entirely.
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variousqueerthings · 1 year ago
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me and my partner are watching the "guy gets brain damage after being hit by a car" david tennant film, and it really is hitting all my fears of losing control and also
.... the way they depict brain damage is not so dissimilar from some of my internal life. specifically the bits when the character's pov is shown not being able to connect disparate bits of information/visual/audio/emotional/etc cues, I'm like. Ah. Yeah. That. That takes Effort
not as intensely as this character, but it often takes conscious effort to filter through the input in order to make it fit and take an action, and I'm wondering now if that's not a thing that happens to people most of the time....
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smonk-wonk · 10 months ago
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how are you a holocaust survivor if you're POC?
I'm not a Holocaust survivor I'm 25?
I'm gonna guess you mean descended from Holocaust survivors & victims. In which case it's really sad that you think this way firstly? POC and non Jewish people did in fact die during the holocaust and many were targeted for not fitting the Nazis' idea of the "superior Aryan race".
From The Holocaust Encyclopedia: "When Adolf Hitler and the Nazis came to power in 1933, there were several thousand Black people living in Germany. The Nazi regime discriminated against them because the Nazis viewed Black people as racially inferior. During the Nazi era (1933–1945), the Nazis used racial laws and policies to restrict the economic and social opportunities of Black people in Germany. They also harassed, imprisoned, sterilized, and murdered an unknown number of Black people."
Also contrary to what some believe, and this may sound farfetched and I hope you're sitting down but bear with me- some people are actually more than one race. Some people are POC and white. We call this being biracial. Or in grade school, being an "Oreo". A mutt if they really want to dehumanize you
But while my relatives weren't targeted for their skin color as they were white, many people were. Black Germans and other POC did exist, were murdered and traumatized, and have passed down that generational trauma. Just as other persecuted populations even if it was much less it was no less a part of the genocide and ethnic cleansing.
#i was actually never called an oreo but my siblings were#the fun thing about my racial ambiguity is no one irl knows what racial slur or term to call me#anyway there were Holocaust victims that were POC and it's even more reason to compare these events.#we have to mention the holocaust by name. we have to say hitler's name. i feel if we don't we're forgetting that this has happened before#because millions did not die during the holocaust just for us to justify more ethnic cleansing. more destruction of people's land& history#we have to look at how history was rewritten and how they allowed a genocide and massive cleansing to happen#and given my background i can't wrap my head around seeing everything that i heard of the nazis and even the USSR doing#and just going “but hamas”. israel is the cause hamas is the effect. i will never be happy that innocent people died#but people are wrong to say it was because they're jewish and muslims/palestinians/arabs hate jews. furthers the us vs them#they were already being killed and there's a reason colonized ppl & BIPOC see through the propaganda#the “they kill babies and rape women and hate you for how you were born and want to take things from you!”#we are familiar with it bc this isn't the first time it's happened and we remember the result of that mentality#and how it was weaponized#when i say mention it i do not mean above the current genocide. but we know how serious the holocaust was#the scale the lasting impact the destruction the things that were uncovered so much later#there is no “aftermath” of gaza yet bc the genocide is ongoing but we've seen the aftermath of genocide before#if we ignore the parallel we are forgetting history and there's a saying about those who forget history#free palestine#palestine#gaza#free gaza
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warmspice · 1 year ago
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It's LITERALLY OCTOBER
#Oouuuuuuuuuiiiiiaaaagh#Saw someone cute today I'm soooo like#So. Like silly goofy I'm like ohhh they're looking at meeeee oh my goodness they're looking at me and I think they're cool#We should chatty taaaaaLk#But this was at a club meeting and I truly. I truly can't tell#If I'm just a bit self centered or if they're like INTERESTED#I'm soooo in soft mode today. This week. This life. Dude it's silly#I hope to see them again. Gonna make my friend who already wants to be friends with them... Let me third wheel 🤠😜🤗#I'm literally so quiet shy bad at talking it's awful. Like I'm sorry. But I'm just. Sooooo bad at talking about things. I don't remember#Anything ever how can I have opinions on songs or shows 😭 I don't even know their names 😭😭😭#But I am sooo full of observations and opinion even... Sometimes.. Sometimes.#I am literally so capable of being normal I just don't understand why it doesn't work out in certain settings. Cries#Anyways um.#IT'S OCTOBER LITERALLY WHO HAS AN OPEN HEART MIND AND ARMS LOL#Void talks#If you're in a club meeting and someone keeps looking over at you even though you're literally not saying anything. This means something?#Or you're just silly and they're surveying the room#Because after we were in a trio conversation n they kept looking over but I'm not sure if it was just to check if I was left out (which#Makes sense bc I could not contribute to the conversation meaningfully 🤧)#But even BEFORE? WHAT'S UR VIBE#Good at making eye contact maybe#I think I just like indulging in silly thoughts and entertaining myself#But also like. I feel like I'm being sooooo silly about it.#Melts.
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monty-glasses-roxy · 7 months ago
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Just had the idea of doing a Roxy askblog that's based on it being a secret blog she's not allowed to have and every so often if someone asks her something she just says stuff like "To the Fazspy reading this, I'm not the real Roxy." to try and throw the staff off her trail lmao
Will probably never make a blog like that, but it could be kinda funny. Maybe I bring the idea of an 'ask Roxy anything' game back where I draw the answers for it instead so it's not a whole ass blog dedicated to Roxy being a sneaky lil shit on the internet
#there's several reasons I probably won't do it but it's a fun spin on stuff#roxy exploring the closed off parts of the plex in first person lmao#taking pictures like 'look see? its right there!' and she's pointing at literally nothing because the camera doesn't see what her eyes see#could be funny!#but doing things is... I would say it's improving but not really#it's improving in a maybe it is maybe it isn't sort of way so who knows if I'll ever get to do it anyway#ANYWAY yeah I'll probs not do this. literally no one would interact with it#the people are bored of my plex history stuff anyway so like... yeah it's cool I know when something won't work#an askblog only works if it gets asks and uh yeah the amount of askblogs I've seen die off within a week here because of that is crazy#no thank you to that I think!#I'm not putting the effort into something like that just to have it die so fast#hi if you read this far go find an askblog and pester the shit out of them it's fun#I haven't seen any around for a while but I also can't view half of tumblr on my phone#so it's really fucking hard to see them even if I follow them :(#but yeah if there's any sb askblogs out there or anyone that wants to have a go at it tag me in a post.#I WILL show up to be silly in your inbox though I may not always remember the plot if there is one#again. I can't see half of tumblr on mobile and that includes blogs but I'll do my best man#askblogs are fun! they're goofy and chaotic!#highly recommend!! I haven't ran one in years but they were very fun!!#ANYWAY Roxy just making posts like 'Jerry. Sandy. I know what you two keep doing in the Gator Golf caravan. :)'#just name dropping random plex guests to be like 'I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE' for shits and giggles#'who are they?' 'oh just two morons that dont know I know Everything Ever. Don't worry about it.'#ya know?? fun! goofy shit! could be funny!#random pictures from inside the plex like 'lmao they think I cant see them' and its just a fucking wall like yeah I wonder why#maybe it's the fucking wall in the way who knows? it's a mystery sdfdsf#pop rox talks
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maxmayfieldirl · 2 years ago
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The discourse about being able to ship willel takes me back like. Fucking 5 years to the big debate on whether or not you could ship Sal and Larry because they were stepbrothers by episode 4 lmaoooo
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keeps-ache · 3 months ago
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ooo that's minty babyyy
#just me hi#almost wrote 'babuuu' up there loll#anywho i got gum yesterday cuz i'm tryna stop chewing on my. everything hkfsh#lips + cheeks + finger skin. i don't like cuts v-v#i got miiiiiiiiint because they didn't have waaaaaaatermelon hbfsh :)#it's not so burny but i do still wish i had watermelon... ou....#//i wanna do something rn but i don't. know. wghat#pi.e is always welcome but i wanna work on bl.s but i'm also having my siblings play through a story that i have Stuck in my brain so hkfsh#i didn't think i'd get so Brained abt this one. and because i had them play it before i had an actual plot ready(just had basic world stuff#i can't think of this going any other way hbfshv - lotta fun interesting and weird things have happened that simply cannot be reproduced#/hang on my oven food must be turned lol#okey :3#/like the spy they ran into - idk if i've ever talked abt it lol but m gonna do so now hbfsjv#so they - my brothers whose names are fry and leo in this story. fry is an 8 yo tabby-cat sparrow and leo is the cat-dog-rat thing Shock :)#- anywho they're with the character Teddy and the three of them were going to head to the Crow Fortress to. fight them i guess lol ?? there#wasn't a like. real plan jfhsjv#so they're on their way out from the shore village-turned-fortress called Shimmery Shore and they run into a cloaked figure like a couple#miles off going towards Shimmery Shore (where fry's mother runs the fortress as general) and they start debating each other#fry goes 'wait what if this is a spy??' leo 'i dunno. we're going somewhere. so.' 'but if it's a spy??' 'well what are you going to do abou#it???' so fry asks the stranger 'are you.. a Spy [eyebrow raise]?' the stranger obviously says 'no!! what are you talking about???'#'that's exactly what a spy would say!' 'i'm sure a spy would also be saying the same thing! YOU'RE spies aren't you? this is all greatly#suspicious !!'#and the argument quickly came to the stranger pulling a sword and saying 'i'm going to pass now and you're not going to stop me' and the#group p much just put up their hands and went 'okay yeah sure man' and let them pass lol#the Squad argued abt it for like a couple minutes and then forgot about it shortly#anyway Shimmery Shore later fell to the Crows and it was due to some sort of slow collapse of their internal structures. and when they hear#that the two of them slowly looked at each other. and then started laughing kjhfsjgjhsv#anyway yea i do a lot of thinkin for this one on the fly. lotta stuff going on hbghfs#i'm bad at remembering finer details but at least i can keep my world here together lol :3#//ouh i've run out of tags.. okay m gonna eat my food n then do something hfh :) tooooodles !!
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wordstome · 10 months ago
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how c.ai works and why it's unethical
Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.
The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)
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I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.
How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].
I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.
"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."
Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.
(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)
Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:
It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.
C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.
Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.
DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.
(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)
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epic-and-kitty · 1 year ago
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waking up early and realizing new Splatoon news is out is a happy feeling
Seeing just how quick people are to immediately attack the devs when something happens that they don't like makes me want to go back to bed
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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 months ago
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building blocks | yjh
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(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)
pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to loveres | fluff, minor angst, attempt at humor, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: 19.7k (idk what to say atp) warnings: mentions of eating and drinking, jeonghan briefly drives a motorcycle, they're both engineering students but i don't claim to know engineering, the angst is minor because there's some miscommunication smut warnings: lots of kissing, hand job, fingering, slight voyeurism? (jeonghan watches reader finger herself), kind of loser!jeonghan, missionary sex, nothing really crazy all things considered
a/n: this is for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰 also thank you to everyone that helped me brainstorm along the way @ugh-yoongi @haologram @highvern and of course to @wqnwoos for letting me borrow her name.
note 2: this isn’t proofread. i had something come up irl and wanted to get it posted, so i’m sorry for any errors! i’ll come back to it next week when i have a minute.
(tag list at the end)
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Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe. 
Except…
You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You managed to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your PhD, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.
Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineering branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your final semester. It’s hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.
Whatever.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that. 
So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go. 
When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out, though.
“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.
It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.
“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.
“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk. 
“What did you say your name was?” you ask.
“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.
You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on. 
“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.
“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”
Nothing else grabs your attention during the remainder of the introductions. Several students volunteer what they’re hoping to get out of the program. One brave student says she’s heard that Professor Choi is tough before asking for your opinion. Although you give a neutral answer, you make a note to speak to her privately to address her (very valid) concerns. 
When it comes time for you to return to speaking about the rest of the semester, you expect Jeonghan to interrupt in some way. He gives the impression of someone that likes causing a little bit of chaos or bringing attention to himself. Instead, he simply listens, notes something down occasionally, and gazes at you so intently that you nearly feel yourself flush. It would be a lot easier to ignore him if he didn’t look like some kind of model, though. You catch yourself looking at him more than once when other students are sharing answers. His nearly black hair falls in longer layers around his face, not quite reaching his collar in the back. There’s something almost delicate about his nose, about all of his face, really. His features are soft in a sort of beautiful way. It’s only when he catches you looking that you shake any consideration of his features from your mind. 
Once there’s only a few minutes left, you dismiss the class with a reminder that your email is beneath Professor Choi’s on the syllabus and you’re always around to help them. This class, you share, can be daunting and you’re here to help them get through it in one piece. That part comes out genuine because you do mean it. None of these students are to blame for the position you’re in. It’s not their fault that they have a TA that doesn’t really want to be in the position. So, you’re not going to make them suffer. You’re going to help them just as the TA for your class helped you. You make a note to reach out to him and ask for some advice.
Jeonghan’s eyes linger on you as the other students get out of their seats and begin talking, mostly about what they’re most excited for in the coming semester. You have to break first and look down to collect some papers from the desk. It also helps to remind yourself this is the same student who said he joined the class because he likes Legos. Ridiculous. When you look back up at the class, you’re half expecting to see his attention is still on you. It’s not. He’s joined a few classmates and is leaving the room without a backward glance. 
Legos, you remind yourself, and return to gathering your things. 
The one good thing about all this is that it’s an evening course, designed for people that have to work during the day. When the class is over, you get to go straight home to eat dinner and meld into the couch with your roommate, who also happens to be your best friend. 
You: i’m tired, want me to pick up food on the way home?
Bestie boo: i already called in an order from that one place you like so you can pick it up on the way home 
You: wow who are you and what have you done with my best friend?
Bestie boo: i didn’t pay for it
You let out a snort because that’s exactly the friend you know and love. He has to cover up ordering your favorite food from your favorite restaurant, which is sweet, by reminding you he’s still a giant pain in the ass. The gesture is enough for you to ignore it and just let him have this win. Maybe you’re off your game, but you’re a little tired.
“You should watch where you’re going.” 
The comment nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Sure, you scare easily as it is. But it’s worse when the voice comes out of seemingly nowhere. Of course it’s Jeonghan from your class, leaning against the wall just outside the building. His eyes glint at your reaction, like he’s enjoying it. Maybe he is. A second later, he pushes off from the wall to come closer. 
“And you shouldn’t scare people like that,” you retort when your heart slows a bit. He’s looking at you conspiratorially. “Did you have a question from the class?” 
“No,” he answers easily. 
“So…” you start. 
“Do you memorize the faces of all your students so quickly?” he wonders, continuing when you give him an odd look. “Or am I special?” 
“You made an impression,” you say neutrally.
“A positive one?” he presses.
“I didn’t say that,” you counter.
“But, still, you remembered me. Unless you learn all your students' faces before class as TA duties,” he says.
You sigh and decide to give him a partial truth, one that’s less likely to bite you than admitting his face is one of the only ones you remember. “I haven’t been a TA before so I don’t have a manual for how I’m going to approach it.” 
“Happy I get to be your first, then,” he says and turns to walk away. He turns back over his shoulder with a wicked smile and calls, “see you next class!” 
Your mind is preoccupied all the way to the restaurant to pick up the food and all the way back to your apartment. It’s only been one day of class and you can already feel that this student is going to be a menace. Worse than that, he seems like he knows he’s getting under your skin and wants to press it even further. Realistically, you just have to get through any of the classes that you lead. Otherwise, he’ll be the professor’s issue. 
Seungkwan is waiting on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on his phone when you walk into the living room, takeout containers in hand. It’s relatively familiar, though you know that he also likes to be out whenever he can. A perpetual social butterfly. 
“Today was already fucking annoying,” you moan when you set the boxes down and flop onto the couch.
Seungkwan gives you a sympathetic look. “At least you’re one step closer to getting what you need from that idiot.”
You’re confused for a moment because you hadn’t been thinking of Professor Choi at all. “Oh, yeah, no. I wasn’t talking about Choi.” 
“What was the issue then?” Seungkwan asks as he leans forward to get his food.
“There’s this guy in the class and I don’t know. I can’t figure him out,” you offer. “He’s so annoying. Like who signs up for a structural engineering class just because he likes building Legos? And that smirk. Ugh. I hate him.”
“Sure sounds like it,” Seungkwan quips. 
“Fuck off, I do,” you double down. 
“What’s he look like? Is he cute?” he wonders.
“Does it matter?” you ask.
“No. You answered anyway,” Seungkwan says with a grin.
“Fine, yes he is attractive because for some reason I’ve been cursed. Why do all you annoying people in my life also have to be hot?” you whine, casting a look at your roommate.
“Did you just call me hot?” he barks through a laugh. 
“Fuck off, just pick a show. It’s your turn,” you say with a push on his arm. 
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You make it through the first few classes as a TA without much to report. Jeonghan tries your patience, but there’s not much he can do during the class and he doesn’t linger afterwards. That’s usually when Professor Choi wants to debrief on the course material and make sure the next class is ready. The class is also just starting to get into the real material and away from the foundational information. 
But, now the course is well and truly underway, which means you have to announce that you’ll be starting to hold your own office hours every week. Of course, Choi also has office hours and students could take advantage of those. Probably would, if not for the fact that he encourages the class to go to you first to try and resolve anything. Something about how he’s very busy and that’s why he has a TA. It’s exhausting and just another obstacle in getting what you need. 
After getting feedback from the class, you decide to set two different times for office hours, one during the late afternoon and one during the early evening to accommodate schedules. A few students show up right at the start of your first office hours session with similar concerns. So, you invite them in and start to work through a few practice problems to illustrate the point that they’re struggling to understand. It’s actually surprisingly easy to work in this way. You would never admit it to Professor Choi, but it’s actually kind of enjoyable. There’s value in helping someone understand a difficult concept. It’s also really rewarding to watch the comprehension dawn on the faces around you as each of them seems to grasp what you’re saying. 
Honestly, you can’t imagine your first office hours going any better when you’re already an hour into it and you’ve been working with the same three students. Of course, just as they’re gathering their things to head out, feeling more confident than when they showed up, Jeonghan appears in the doorway. He doesn’t even say anything at first, just looks around at the other students. They seem oblivious to what’s happening around them.
“Thanks again,” one student says as he’s standing up.
Another student catches sight of Jeonghan and she smiles. “Oh, sorry Jeonghan. We didn’t know you were having trouble with any of the concepts or we would have asked you to join us.” 
“That’s fine,” he says easily. “I was busy until just now anyway.” 
“Do you all feel confident with the topics? Or would you like to stay and go over something now that Jeonghan is here?” you ask, trying not to appear hopeful. (And failing at that pretty miserably.)
“Oh no, we’re definitely set. And we had plans,” the first student says with a look over at Jeonghan.
The three of them exchange goodbyes with Jeonghan and head out, allowing Jeonghan to close the door behind them before plopping into a seat at the table in your office. He’s directly across from you, which makes it hard to avoid his eyes. When you do meet his eye, though, he’s got a sneaky, all-knowing look on his face. You don’t like the loot of it one bit.
“What’s with the look?” you ask.
“What do you mean?” he retorts quickly.
“You’re making a face,” you say.
“Are you saying you don’t like my face?” Jeonghan asks, pretending to be offended. 
“Why are you here, Jeonghan?” you ask to switch tactics. 
“These are your office hours. I’m here to ask questions about the material,” he says. 
“You don’t need any help with the material so far. I’ve graded your problem sets and the answers have been perfect,” you admit. 
“Impressive, isn’t it?” he muses. 
“I’m not answering that. It brings me back to my question, though. If you don’t need help, why are you here?” you press.
“Why does it seem like you don’t like me?” he asks.
“I don’t have any feelings about you either way,” you deflect.
“Now, that’s not true,” he disagrees. 
“You’re determined to get under my skin,” you say, half as a joke. 
“Determined to figure you out,” he corrects. “It doesn’t seem like you’re all that excited about being a TA.”
“That’s because I was forced into it,” you blurt out and immediately clap a hand over your mouth. That’s the last thing you meant to say. “I didn’t mean…”
“Now we’re getting somewhere in this relationship,” he says, sitting back into his seat with a satisfied smile. 
You heave another heavy sigh, a common occurrence around this man. “Why are you so determined to figure me out? Why do you care how I feel about you?”
“Because everyone seems to like me right off the bat,” he says. 
“I can see why,” you deadpan. 
“So can I stay? Or do you have very important things to do?” he asks.
“It’s my office hours, so I’m here to help students until the two hours are up,” you admit.
“Perfect.”
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The next few times that you hold office hours feature Jeonghan showing up for the second half. It seems deliberate that he doesn’t show up right when they start, especially because you always have at least one other student in your office. If there’s another student there, he joins in to ask questions along with whoever else is there. When it’s just him, his questions are much more personal. It’s obvious that he wants to know you. Know your likes and dislikes, know the things that make you tick, know who you are when you’re not at school. Seems very convinced that the version of you outside the walls of the engineering building is very different from the one he sees. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to realize that he’s slowly getting more and more of a peek into who you really are. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up your slip about being forced into being a TA. 
It doesn’t make it any easier to be around him.
It should. You should be able to get used to his particular brand of torture. Yet, with each new piece of information you learn, you unlock even more questions. It’s like you can’t ever really figure him out. Or maybe that he doesn’t want you to. He’s very careful to give vague answers about the serious things, while he goes on and on about the things that don’t matter. He’ll spend a solid five minutes talking about the latest Lego he’s building, but then breeze past the few questions you ask about him personally. It usually includes some sort of quip about how he’s wearing you down and how you clearly want to know him better. 
“Bet you thought you were escaping me today,” a voice says, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Jesus Christ,” you gasp. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you look up to glare at the intruder. 
“No, Yoon Jeonghan. I can see the confusion, though,” he says and you sigh heavily. 
“Office hours are almost over,” you point out. 
“Not for 20 more minutes,” he counters. 
“Right, but I was in the middle of grading something,” you say, indicating the design plans in front of you. He glances over at them.
“Hm,” he says.
“What, Jeonghan?” you ask with exasperation.
“Just doesn’t look like mine is all,” he says and plops into the chair across from you.
“Well obviously,” you say. “Can’t exactly grade your project with you sitting here.” 
For some reason, that makes him break out into a wicked grin. “So you aren’t grading my assignment because you were hoping I’d show up.” 
Ah, yes. Now you see your mistake. Should have definitely seen that coming, too. “You’ve come to every other session. I wasn’t hoping you’d show up again, but it was a fair assumption that you might.” 
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he says placatingly.  “D’you have a question?” you ask. The tension headache you associate with Jeonghan’s presence in your life is threatening to make an appearance. 
“Nope,” he says, popping the last syllable. 
A notification on your phone stops you from responding to him and you unlock it immediately. It seems that Professor Choi needs to give you a stack of assignments and instead of just walking a few doors down the hall, he had to send a message. You drop your phone back on the desk with the message still open and take a calming breath. 
“Everything good?” Jeonghan asks with more care than you’re used to.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back. Have to go pick something up from Professor Choi’s office,” you say, already on your feet and heading towards the door. 
It only takes a minute or two for you to go and come back. For once, you’re thankful for Jeonghan because it gives you the ready-made excuse that you’re just wrapping up office hours with a student waiting for you to return. He doesn’t need to know that student hasn’t ever asked you a class related question without another student present. You’ll take the wins where you can get them. The pain in ass in question is still sitting exactly where he was when you left him. 
He looks up at you as you walk back in, set the folders on the corner of your desk, and sit back down. “You really hate Professor Choi.” 
“I didn’t say that,” you counter quickly. Probably too quickly. 
“You didn’t have to. Sometimes you have a really expressive face,” he comments and looks back down at his phone. 
“Only sometimes?” you wonder. Jeonghan looks back up to regard you.
“It’s always expressive, but you work a little harder to control it in class than you do outside of it,” he decides. “You mentioned something about being forced into this. Why be a TA if you hate it?” 
“I don’t actually hate being a TA,” you clarify. He seems to accept this at face value. “It’s just…I didn’t…no. Why am I doing this with you?”
“Because I’m asking?” he offers. 
“I had never considered being a TA. I wasn’t opposed to it, I just hadn’t really fit it into my schedule. It has been a lot of fun, though,” you say. It’s the first time you’ve noticed how much attention Jeonghan gives you. The way his eyes are on you and it seems like he tunes out any other distractions. 
“How did you end up here, then?” he asks. Any teasing or lightness is gone from his tone. 
“Please don’t make me regret giving you the honest answer,” you say warily. “But, I’m applying for my PhD program. I have everything that I need…except for a final letter of recommendation.”
“Oh, you’re joking,” he says and actually does look offended on your behalf. “He’s making you TA for him in exchange for the letter? That’s why you said you were forced into it?”
“Yup,” you respond, popping the end of the word like he had done earlier.. 
“Well, that’s definitely shitty but I’m still counting myself lucky that you ended up with this class,” he says.
“I can’t figure you out,” you admit. 
“I know.” 
That should be annoying, the way he says that he knows you can’t figure him out. It’s like he’s not even trying to hide that he’s making it difficult to get to know him. Yet, he’s not making it a secret that he wants to get to know you better. There’s just something about him that prompts you to share things you wouldn’t with anyone else. No, that’s dramatic. It’s just easier to share with him than it usually is with someone else that you barely know. 
Despite asking again if Jeonghan has any questions, he insists that he’s fine with just sitting there to keep you company while you have to wait to see if any student comes by in the last minutes of your office hours. For a change, he doesn’t ask any personal questions. Doesn’t try to press you into admitting things that you usually wouldn’t. He just takes out his laptop to make it look like you’re actually helping him in the event that anyone checks in on you. 
Nobody does. The last few minutes pass quickly with you returning to grading the assignment you had been working on. The two of you gather up your things in relative silence and Jeonghan walks with you out to your car so that you can head home. You’re expecting something else or something different, but that’s all there is. Just a walk to your car, a smile with a goodbye, and him heading off in another direction. It’s somehow the strangest and most normal interaction you’ve had with him. It makes you pause to wonder if this is the real version of him. A little quiet, a little reserved. Not being a menace to anything and anyone in his path.
It’s not until you’re back home, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine while watching some variety show with Seungkwan that you realize it wasn’t quite the normal interaction you thought it was. 
Jeonghan: i appreciated you telling me the truth about the class today
The message lights up your screen and all you can do is stare at it without being able to believe it. How are you getting a message from Jeonghan with his contact information saved? You’re racking your brain trying to figure out if you gave him your number, or saved his, and just didn’t remember. 
“What’s with your face?” Seungkwan asks.
“Wow, that was nice,” you retort.
He looks over at your phone where the notification still shows a message from Jeonghan. “Finally gave him your number, huh?”
“No, I -” you start when another message comes in.
Jeonghan: you left your phone unlocked when you went to Choi’s office and I figured it was time for us to exchange numbers
Seungkwan, now more invested in your messages than in the show in the background, lets out a low whistle of appreciation. “Wow, he’s good. I see why you like him.”
“I don’t like him, Kwan,” you sigh.
“Sure,” he says dismissively. 
As if to prove something, you make a show of moving your phone over to the end table and turning it over. Seungkwan gives you a Look that plainly says he’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell. Otherwise, he lets you go back to the show that you’re watching without bringing it up again. 
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The text thread with Jeonghan seems to haunt you every time you open your messages, at least until there are enough conversations to push it out of your view. Surprisingly, you don’t get any more texts from him when you don’t answer. He also doesn’t show up to your next office hours, which is a bit odd to you. And you can’t vent to Seungkwan about it because he’s still very convinced that it’s only a matter of time before you end up sleeping with Jeonghan. Ridiculous, honestly. Like you would waste your time on someone you’re not even sure you like. 
That carries you through to your next class. It’s a slightly more complicated lecture that Choi does every semester to try and scare students off this path. He claims it’s so that everyone knows what they would be getting into. You suspect that it’s his way of reminding everyone just how smart he is. Not exactly the most flattering trait, but you suppose that he probably doesn’t care about that. Doesn’t need to. He’s been teaching so long that his job is guaranteed at this point. 
The good thing, though, about knowing Choi won’t need you during the entirety of the class is that you get to just sit at the back of the class and do some work. It gives you the chance to get through grading some of the assignments for the class without having to take time away from something else. Let’s you get absorbed into that to tune out the grating sound of Choi’s monotonous voice as he tries his best to warn students off the path. You’re so absorbed that you don’t notice the way that Jeonghan periodically glances over his shoulder to where you’re sitting, trying to catch your attention even for a moment. 
When the class comes to an end, you make your way up to the front as you would any other time. It’s a little irritating to have to check if there’s anything Professor Choi needs like you’re his personal assistant, but you’re also resigned. What you’re not prepared for, though, is that he calls Jeonghan up to the front of the room.
“Yes, Professor?” he says with so much respect and deference that it almost feels real, if you didn’t know how he feels. One of the only personal things you actually know about this mystery of a man.. 
“I really enjoyed your proposal for the final project using Legos,” Choi starts. “Every few semesters, I get someone that seems to think being good at using plastic building blocks means they’d make a good engineer. But, you’ve actually been doing wonderfully in the class. So, I want you to work with my TA here to refine the idea a little bit. I don’t think you’re meeting your full potential with it yet.” 
“Oh, well Professor Choi…” you start and he waves a hand. 
“Surely it isn’t a problem to help foster the best student in my class, is it?” he challenges.
“No, of course not,” you concede. 
Professor Choi wears a triumphant smile. “Good. I’ll leave the two of you to coordinate your schedules. See you next class, Mr. Yoon.” 
The formality of calling students by their family names nearly makes you roll your eyes. It’s only when you note the glint in Jeonghan’s eyes that you catch yourself. The two of you say your goodbyes and a silence settles in Choi’s absence.
“Should I just stop by your office hours tomorrow?” he asks when it’s clear you aren’t going to say anything. 
“Sure, that works,” you say. “You stop by most of them anyway.” 
“Does it bother you that I do?” he asks, a note of something you can’t detect in his tone. Maybe vulnerability. 
That makes you soften. “No, of course not.”
“I can back off if it’s making you uncomfortable,” he says with a forced smile. “Maybe it was too much adding my number to your phone.” 
“We can talk about boundaries when I see you during office hours tomorrow,” you joke. At least it seems to bring a real smile back to his face. 
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In a strange turn of events, Jeonghan shows up to your office hours only two minutes after they start. You haven’t even gotten yourself fully unpacked because you weren’t expecting him to show up at the beginning. Not when he seems to show up in the latter half every other time. 
The differences continue as you settle into the work the professor assigned the two of you. Jeonghan pulls out his proposal, something you hadn’t actually seen yet, and talks you through his ideas. His idea had been to submit a design for a brand new structure built to scale entirely using Legos. It’s ambitious in a way because the blocks only come in certain shapes and sizes. You can’t just cut something down to fit the size that you need. It requires a good amount of forethought. But, for someone like Jeonghan who’s taken to the course like a fish to water, it doesn’t seem like it’s quite enough. You can see why the professor asked you to help him work through it a little bit more. It needs to be fleshed out a little further. 
As the two of you go back and forth with ideas about how to give it an element that makes it more impressive, you’re stuck by how easy it is to work side-by-side with him. How well the two of you work together. It’s like every visit before this has been building up to the level of comfort you have now, even if you’re still pretending that you don’t really know him. Maybe you don’t, though. It’s not like he ever gives you real answers to your questions.
“Why Legos?” you ask as the two of you are feeling stuck on where to go to expand on the proposal. 
“Because it’s funny to see how annoyed you get when I bring it up, so I figured it would be funny to imagine you grading my final project that has to do with Legos,” he says with that same look.
“Be serious for once, Jeonghan,” you sigh. “I’m trying to help you with this. It’s the least you could do.” 
“Sorry,” he says after a moment and shifts in his seat. “It’s, well, it’s just always been the way that I zone out and reset. At first, it was just when I needed a break from dealing with people because I had to focus on the instructions. Then, I started to think about how impressive it was that they were able to form these insane shapes with building blocks. Then, it started to get more elaborate with me testing out what worked and what didn’t when I built my own designs.” 
It’s one of the first truly real and truly honest things he’s said to you. Not hiding behind a joke or brushing off an answer. It’s just him and you feel like that one response helps you know him better than all the hours he’s spent in your office up until that point. It also helps you realize what the proposal was missing in the first place: something personal from him. 
Ultimately, what is going to make this project stand out is something that makes it personal. A structural engineer doesn’t really need to design a building or a bridge or any other structure. They do need to design and analyze any of the support systems, though, which can be a dull job at times. Adding something more human will make it stand out. So, you suggest that Jeonghan take it a step further than just modeling a structural support system from Legos. You suggest that he set it up almost like instructions for an established set. But, instead of simple drawings to make it step by step, you suggest that he include little snippets about his previous experiences with using Legos, how he tests it to make sure he structure will hold, and any calculations he does for load capacity and gravity. 
Initially, he seems a little unsure. It’s easy to see that talking about things that are more personal to him, especially for a final project, is uncomfortable. After a lot of reassurances that nobody but you and Professor Choi will see it if he doesn’t want them to, he finally agrees that it’s a good idea. It does seem like he’s at least excited about the prospect now, though. 
While he’s rewriting his proposal to submit to the professor, you get back to what you had planned to do during the first part of your office hours before he showed up: grading assignments. Once again, his isn’t on the stack to be graded. Out of habit, you always grade his first and some time when he’s guaranteed to not be around. It’s oddly comfortable to work like this, grading papers while he types away on his laptop across from you. 
Once he gets through typing up a new proposal, he asks if you would be willing to read it over. You’re just about to suggest that he email it to you, when he just hands his laptop over. Seems unconcerned about having you his laptop. Although he watches you carefully as your eyes scan through the words, it feels like his only concern is what you think about it. Which doesn’t need to be a concern at all. It’s perfect, as far as you’re concerned. 
You tell him as much when you look up with a smile. “I love it.”
“Don’t be nice to me now,” he says nervously as you hand the laptop back over. 
“What?” you ask. 
“You don’t need to spare my feelings now when you’ve been ignoring my texts,” he says like he’s trying to protect himself. 
“So much to unpack there and we’ll return to the texts,” you say, a little exasperated. “But, I’m not being nice about the proposal. It’s perfect and I genuinely can’t find a single thing I’d change. Choi’s going to love it.” 
“Ah, well, he was right in getting your help. I wouldn’t have gotten here on my own,” he admits and it does actually make you smile again. 
“Still your idea,” you say to encourage him.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” he says and you know it’s the real him for a moment. 
“Okay, but back to the texting,” you say to shift.
“The boundaries chat, wonderful,” Jeonghan says, returning to his previous mask of being a menace. 
“You really shouldn’t be going through a stranger’s phone and adding your number,” you chastise. 
“We’re not strangers though, are we?” he challenges. “And I didn’t go through your phone.”
“No?” you ask with an eyebrow raised.
“Your phone was still lit up when you left so I called myself quickly and then created a new contact, and then locked your phone and put it back,” he says like it’s the most normal sentence in the world.
“That’s insane?” you state with a level of shock.
“I really wasn’t trying to cross some sort of line,” he admits with a shocking level of sincerity. “I just really like getting to know you and I figured you’d feel weird about giving a student in your class your number, even though you’re still a student as well. So, I just wanted to make it easier. If you don’t want me to have it, you can delete it right out of my phone.”
Jeonghan holds his unlocked phone out to you and it’s open to your contact. For some insane reason, you do actually believe what he said. It’s easy to see how he might want to befriend you and be hesitant on how to do that. He strikes you as the kind of person that can put on a mask of liking to be social, but really would much rather be at home or in a small setting like in your office with you. And you do actually enjoy having him around, even if you keep trying to pretend that he’s basically a stranger to you. He’s not wrong, either. You would have felt weird about exchanging numbers with him. You’ll never admit that to him. 
He must see the hesitation on your face because he retracts his hand. Waits for you to say something, though. “I guess it’s not the worst thing that you have my number.” 
“That’s almost a positive,” he jokes. “You could give a guy false hope that you actually might be starting to like me.”
“Oh, now I wouldn’t go that far,” you quickly tack on. “Wouldn’t want you to get a big head.”
“Have you seen the grades I’m getting? I already know I’m doing something right,” he brags. 
“I have seen your grades since I’m usually the one grading them,” you remind him. “So, I have to balance it out.”
“You just wanna break my heart over and over again,” he whines.
“You’ll survive,” you deadpan. 
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Everything seems to carry on as it always does. You have to make sure you’re keeping up with all of your actual classes for your degree. Grade assignments when Professor Choi hands them off to you. Give feedback on the upcoming topics. Most importantly, you find  plenty of time to disengage from all the hustle of classes. To enjoy time with friends where you can let your brain just wander onto things that don’t matter nearly as much. 
Even though you don’t ever text Jeonghan first, it doesn’t seem deterred because you do always answer the messages that he sends to you. Some of them are idle thoughts throughout the day. Others are questions that he wants answers to and seems to think he’s more likely to get them over text than during the hours he spends in your office. Your favorites, though, are when he texts you some wildly out of pocket statement and then gets you to debate him on it because it’s always something completely inane. Something meaningless. It gets you so fired up, though. 
“He’s so infuriating,” you complain as you forcely set your phone down on the couch next to you. 
“I’m guessing we’re talking about Jeonghan,” Seungkwan says from his position on the other end of the couch.
“Why would you immediately jump to Jeonghan?” you ask. 
“Bestie, we haven’t talked about anyone else but Jeonghan all semester,” he says. You fling a pillow at your roommate.
“First, you’re being dramatic. And second, yes I talk about him a lot. He’s infuriating,” you say.
“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan says dismissively.
“I might hate him,” you say.
“They say hate sex is the best sex,” he says without taking his eyes off his phone.
“And they say killing your nosey roommate isn’t actually a crime,” you retort. 
Seungkwan looks up at you and smiles. “Let’s do it baby. I know the law.” 
“You’ve been spending too much time around Vernon,” you scoff. 
“Maybe, but if you kill me, who’s going to lend their ear to you and listen to your troubles?” he asks.
“Van Gogh,” you answer immediately.
“He’s dead,” Seungkwan says with an arched eyebrow, carefully avoiding the more obvious retort.
“And so are you to me right now,” you say flatly. 
“Touche,” he says with a light laugh. “What’s he done this time that’s got you all pissy?”
“He’s spent the last 20 minutes debating with me over whether or not a hotdog is a sandwich,” you say, expecting Seungkwan to think it’s just as ridiculous as you. 
What you’re not expecting, though you should be, is for him to pick up Jeonghan’s side in the debate and make you rehash everything you’ve already talked about. It sounds like such an innocuous topic. Something so outlandish that it could possibly spark debate for more than a few minutes. Yet, here you are, having the same debate all over again. It makes you even more heated despite not having a stake or opinion before Jeonghan asked you. In fact, you had never even considered the question. It was one of the most effective he had posed since he started sending you random questions or opinions like this. 
Somehow, though, your biggest mistake is telling Jeonghan that your roommate got just as invested as he had about the topic. Worse when you told Jeonghan that Seungkwan was on his side. It made it immediately obvious that you could not ever let those two meet. It would spell an instant demise for any remaining sanity you had left. The realization that they would be instant best friends is terrifying. 
The debate about whether or not hotdogs are sandwiches lasts all the way until the next day when Jeonghan shows up at your office hours, right at the start. The look on his face tells him that he’s about to carry on the text conversation. But, thankfully, he falls silent when you say that you actually want to get some grading done unless he actually has a question about the course material. It makes him soften, actually, and he agrees that he’ll sit at the little table and work on some of his own homework. It doesn’t really give the impression that he’s asking you for help, though you’re sure that you could sell it if you needed to. 
Normally, it’s not all that distracting to have Jeonghan in your space. Probably because he’s there so often that you’re kind of used to him by now. That’s a thought you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too long. It’s easier to maintain the idea that you kind of hate him than to consider what your real feelings might be. Yet, those thoughts seem to be swirling in your head just by him existing in the same space as you. If he’s equally affected, then you can’t tell. His fingers seem to fly across his keyboard as he works steadily on something. 
Without warning, his voice interrupts the rhythm you finally find. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You’ve never asked permission before,” you note, but don’t look up.
“I wasn’t sure if it was an office hours question,” he says with a little hesitation. 
That does get you to look over at him. “Is it about the course material?”
“No,” he says.
“Shocking,” you sigh. “Well, whatever it is, let’s have it.”
“Do you want to go out and get dinner sometime?” he asks, looking more vulnerable than usual.
It’s enough to make your heart both constrict and threaten to beat out of your chest. Does he know that you’ve been sitting here internally debating what your actual feelings towards him are? Has it been that obvious on your face? 
“With you?” you ask to buy yourself time. 
“That would be the idea, yes,” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“I don’t know…” you start.
“You don’t know because you’re trying to spare my feelings? Or you’re not sure for some reason?” he asks to clarify.
That’s such a crossroads kind of question. You’re not actually sure what the answer is yourself. All you know is that you feel immediate panic at the thought of one of the professors, especially Professor Choi, seeing you out with him. It’s not that there are any rules about TAs and students dating. After all, TAs are just students themselves. But, since you’re doing most of the grading, setting some of the assignments, and even leading some of the classes, it’s frowned upon. It could give the student actually in the class some kind of perceived advantage. The thoughts just go rapidly flying through your brain as you look over at Jeonghan’s expectant face.
You decide on some version of the truth: that it doesn’t matter what you think, it’s not a good idea for you to blur that line. That if someone from the university saw you out, that it could possibly jeopardize everything you’ve spent years working on. That Professor Choi seems even more old school than most of the other professors. You’ve already sacrificed so much. It’s just not a risk you think you can take. 
What you don’t say: that the question actually confuses you. That you can see yourself saying yes to finally figure out what exactly it is that’s going on with you and Jeonghan. You wonder what type of place he would pick. Wonder what he’s like when it’s really just the two of you without the risk of someone else butting in. You wonder if maybe he’ll answer all those personal questions that he’s so fond of dodging when he’s sitting in your office. It actually makes you wonder if saying yes is worth taking a risk when you’ve been so careful with everything in your entire academic career. It’s the kind of thought that really terrifies you even more. This is a man that you can’t even figure out your feelings towards and yet you’re considering taking a massive risk. 
It’s one of the most intense office hours you hold and you’re left with more questions than answers. 
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It’s been another exhausting day between your own classes, research, and doing work as a TA. Sure, there are definite upsides to your schedule. It helps you feel like you have a complete grasp on the material. It also helps you feel like you might be well suited to being a lecturer or even a professor yourself down the line. You also know that you’re giving more to your time as a TA than you need to. It’s just that you don’t want to leave anything to chance. The stronger the recommendation from Choi, the better. 
When you get to your apartment, Seungkwan is in the kitchen with Vernon and Chan. Which should be a concerning sight, since none of them are exactly great cooks, but you’re too tired to really care. You’re also kind of starving and whatever they’re making smells good. What’s the worst that could happen? So you call out quick greetings before heading into your room to drop off your things and change. You reemerge to the sounds of them bickering back and forth.
“Hey, do you want to try some of what we’re making?” Chan calls.
“She’s going to say no,” Seungkwan says.
“I’m starving. I’m down to try whatever it is,” you disagree. 
“Looks like Chan wins this one,” Vernon teases. 
A beep from your phone distracts you from engaging in the bickering back and forth. It’s the last thing you’re expecting, though it shouldn’t be. Ever since Jeonghan managed to get your number, and heard your half-hearted chat about boundaries, he’s been bothering you whenever he feels like it. 
Jeonghan: have you thought about what I asked? You: no Jeonghan: don’t believe you You: my answer hasn’t changed Jeonghan: that it's not a good idea? You: exactly Jeonghan: that’s not a no You: isn’t it? Jeonghan: listen, I respect you and if you tell me no, I won’t ask again Jeonghan: the only thing I’m going to ask if you actually think about it before saying no You: fine
“Hello? Are you there?” Seungkwan asks, snapping his fingers in front of your face. 
“Huh?” you ask.
“Oh, she’s gone girl,” Chan says with a laugh.
“Who were you texting?” Seungkwan asks. He gives you a look that screams he’s about to tease the shit out of you if you’re honest.
“Oh, nobody important. Just a friend,” you say dismissively. 
“Are we calling Jeonghan a friend now?” Seungkwan teases. 
“It wasn’t Jeonghan,” you say with an eye roll.
“Who’s Jeonghan?” Vernon asks.
“I think he’s that guy we’ve been betting on when she’s gonna finally give in and sleep with him,” Chan says in an undertone to Vernon.
“I’m not going to sleep with…hang on. What the fuck?” you ask, wheeling around on Seungkwan. “Have you been betting on me again?” 
“Only when you’re being an idiot,” Seungkwan says with a shrug. 
“Wait, again?” Vernon asks.
“Bro, we have been involved in other bets,” Chan says.
“I need new friends,” you grumble.
From there, it devolves into the usual bickering that you associate with your friend group. Sometimes you wonder how you even got so sucked into this friend group where they’re two or three years younger than you. You’re incredibly thankful for them, though, even in moments like this where you want to strangle them. 
Dinner moves into watching something and playing a game. It always goes the same way. Chan or Vernon take care of picking what to watch since they watch more TV and movies than you and Seungkwan. Conversely, Seungkwan usually picks the game, which is never a good idea because he always picks something that he’s good at. It doesn’t really matter to you, at least. Your brain tends to be fried from classes and research and all that. It’s nice to let them just make the decisions and chime in when you have something to say.
Thankfully, the conversations quickly move past your friends and their complete conviction that you have feelings for Jeonghan to much less serious topics. Sitting there, though, you feel an overwhelming sense of peace even in the chaos. Even when you say that you need new friends, you know that you wouldn’t trade these friends for the world. 
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It’s been just over a week since you promised to give Jeonghan’s question actual thought. You’re still not entirely sure why you agreed. It’s not like you’re actually going to say anything other than no. It’s been a little weird, though, because Jeonghan hasn’t brought it up again, either. It’s like he’s actually been true to his word. He even skipped your office hours when he would usually show up just to bother you and pretend to ask questions. 
Since your workload has been a little light, you agree to go out for drinks with Seungkwan and some friends. It’s a much needed night to unwind and just not think about any of the issues that plague you during the week. It’s a night of ridiculous conversations while you all give each other a hard time about nothing that really matters. Eventually, as is always the way it goes, Seungkwan gets up and kicks off some karaoke. It’s a blessing and a curse. He’s got an amazing voice and you feel like you should be paying to hear someone sing that well. But, then he wants other people to join him and none of you are that keen to embarrass yourselves by following him. 
Casting your eyes around the bar, they land on someone in a leather jacket. As you watch, he shrugs it off and sets it on the back of his chair. There’s something compellingly beautiful about him. He runs a hair through his short, perfectly textured black hair and turns his face slightly to the side. You’re appreciating his profile for a second before it hits you. This isn’t some stranger. It’s Jeonghan. It’s just that he’s clearly cut his hair and styled it differently. You quickly return your eyes to your group and only can hope that he hasn’t noticed you yet. Then again, Seungkwan has been loud and singing before returning to your table. Most people seem to have noticed him. Still, since Jeonghan hasn’t texted you or come over to say anything, you figure that maybe he hasn’t seen you. No matter what, you down another drink to forget about checking him out. 
By the time it’s your turn to go up to the bar and get another round of drinks, you’ve mostly pushed the thought of Jeonghan out of your mind. With your back to his table, it’s been much easier to act like he doesn’t exist. Once you’re at the bar, it’s a little more difficult. Your eyes find his table without even meaning to. His jacket is still there, but he’s not. 
“Looking for me?” a soft voice asks from just beside you. 
It makes you jump a little to realize that he’s somehow right next to you. You try your hardest to act like you’re unaffected when you turn to face him. Try to act like you didn’t realize he was there. Kind of fail at that, honestly, because you’re one drink past the point of being able to pull it off. “Hey, Jeonghan. How long have you been here?”
He smiles that mischievous smile that always makes him look like he knows something that you don’t. “I saw you looking over at my table. You knew I was here.”
“I almost don’t recognize you with the new haircut and that leather jacket,” you say and only realize your mistake a second too late. 
“The leather jacket back at my table?” he asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I saw you checking your phone too.” 
“Were you watching me?” you challenge.
“Yes,” he admits freely. “You’re nice to look at.” 
“Oh, well that’s not…I didn’t mean,” you stutter out, saved by the bartender setting a small tray down of drinks for you and your friends. 
Somehow, though, because life isn’t fair (and neither is Seungkwan), your best friend picks that moment to waltz over claiming he wants to help with drinks. What he really seems to want is to introduce himself to Jeonghan. Even goes as far as pretending he hasn’t heard Jeonghan’s name before. Seungkwan manages to sell it better too and you think it would probably pass with anyone else that wasn’t paying such sharp attention. It’s only then that you notice Jeonghan doesn’t have a drink in hand. Doesn’t really seem the slightest bit drunk. Which is fine until Seungkwan manages to make it even worse by inviting Jeonghan and his friends to come join your group. 
Then, something else that’s kind of weird happens. Jeonghan, who has spent the entirety of the semester up until about a week ago terrorizing you, barely says anything to you at all. He talks about his favorite artists with Seungkwan. Asks Chan for suggestions on some movies that he’s recently seen. Even laughs about random ass memes with Vernon. His friends, whose names you can’t even remember, fit in just as seamlessly. It’s a little…well, uncomfortable. It’s giving you entirely too much time to think and you don’t like it.
So, you do the only reasonable thing and you keep getting drinks. Stay just on the right side of drunk so that you’re aware of your surroundings, but not sober. It makes it easier to deal with everything happening around you.
As the night continues on, your merged groups seem to ebb and flow. Some people wander over, drawn in by the fact that it seems like a fun place to be. Other times, some wander off to make new friends or have new conversations. This is especially true of Seungkwan, which you’re used to. Your roommate is one of the most social people that you know. And then people start to make their excuses to leave as it gets later. How you end up outlasting Chan is a mystery, since he seems to have endless energy. It’s fine, though. You still have your roommate.
Well, until he tells you, without nearly the amount of shame that he should have, that he’s going to be bringing someone home that he got to talking to about karaoke. It’s a little unlike him, at least until you realize that the person isn’t a stranger. They’re definitely someone that Seungkwan has talked to before. It still leaves you a little lost on what to do or where to go.
“I never ask you for anything,” Seungkwan pleads. It’s patently false. He’s always asking you for things, just never things like this. 
“I could text Chan or Vernon to see if they’ll let me crash on their couch,” you say, trying to quickly clear the cloudiness from your brain. 
“Don’t they put their phones into DND as soon as they get home?” Seungkwan asks.
“My only other option is to just go home and put headphones on,” you say.
“You could come crash at my place. My roommate won’t be back from a trip til tomorrow,” Jeonghan offers. 
“Perfect! Thank you!” Seungkwan rushes out.
“Um? Seungkwan? You can’t just send me to some stranger's house?” you protest.
“He’s not a stranger. He’s been in your class all semester and at your office hours nearly every day,” Seungkwan says with an eye roll. Jeonghan looks vindicated hearing this piece of information. “You’re so dramatic.” 
“It’ll be fine. I can sleep in his room and you can sleep in mine. I’ll even make sure you have fresh sheets if you’re worried,” he says. 
This is definitely a bad idea. Even though you’re not drunk, you’re definitely not sober enough to pretend you’re not at least a little bit interested in Jeonghan. Everything about him seems to be a study in contrasts. Confident but not in some toxic masculinity type of way. Chaotic but serious at the same time. Silly to where he would say he joined a class because he’s good at Legos but also genuinely smart. And beautiful in a way so few men seem to be. He’s just something entirely his own.
You shake your head because you realize you’re spacing out. This is a terrible idea and one you probably wouldn’t agree to if you were sober. It’s not like he’s actually a stranger, though. Jeonghan seems to have realized the conclusion before you open your mouth. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Dangerous question,” Jeonghan says with a glint in his eyes. 
“I love you,” Seungkwan says and wraps you up in a hug before skipping off. 
“Are you ready to leave, then?” Jeonghan asks when it’s just the two of you.
“Yeah, might as well,” you say. He nods, looking a little unsure for the first time since you’ve known him and turns to grab his jacket. Says a quick goodbye to his friends and you try to ignore the looks they cast over at you. 
“Let’s go,” he says a minute later.
“Are we calling an Uber or something?” you ask.
“I’m sober because I rode my bike here,” he says as he leads the way outside.
“I’m sorry, you rode your what?” you ask, brain slow to catch up with what he’s saying. It’s then that you notice he didn’t just grab his jacket. He’s got a helmet as well. 
“Bike,” he says and indicates a motorcycle parked outside the bar. 
That brings you up a little short. It’s the last thing you would have expected when you thought of this man. Though, maybe it shouldn’t have been. After all, you said he was a study in contrasts. Isn’t this just another one of those? 
Somehow, the more you look, the more it seems to suit him. It’s not some big, clunky bike. Not what you typically think of when you think of a motorcycle. It’s sharp and beautiful, just like he is, even if you can only admit that in your head. He pulls open a compartment that seems to be under the backseat and hands over a helmet. 
“Promise I won’t go too fast,” he says with a softer smile than you’ve seen on him before. Like he’s actually trying to reassure you. 
Sure, it’s not the first time you’ve been on a bike. It’s just that of all the ways you could have seen this night ending, this wasn’t one of them. At least you’re not feeling too self conscious as you slide onto the bike behind Jeonghan and wrap your arms around his waist. You miss the way his breath stutters as you settle in close to him. Miss the way his heart starts to beat out of his chest because you’re too focused on getting comfortable. Don’t even think twice about clinging to his lean frame. But, even with the drinks, it’s hard to ignore the way that your body slots perfectly against his. Or the way your thighs squeeze against his hips. Maybe there’s a lot more to whatever has been happening than you’ve been admitting to yourself. 
Once you reach Jeonghan’s apartment, he carefully helps you off the bike and then puts a bit of distance between you again. It’s the first time that you notice he seems nervous, like maybe, you think, he might be reconsidering if this was a good idea. There’s not really much you can do about that now. You promised Seungkwan that he could have some privacy in the apartment and you’re already here. It can’t possibly be so bad that you really regret coming here. It could even help you sort through the very complicated feelings that are making their presence known. 
Inside the apartment it’s incredibly cozy. Not at all like you imagine two single guys would live while they’re in school. It’s not overly cluttered, but it doesn’t feel cold either. Jeonghan disappears as soon as you both have your shoes off, which lets you look around at some of the decorations. He returns with a spare t-shirt and shorts for you to change into. Despite your insistence that it’s fine, he just presses them to you and indicates where the bathroom is for you to change. 
It feels oddly…comfortable. Like this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him outside of class or your office. It also makes you take a little longer to change because you have to process whatever you’re feeling. Since you’re not sure exactly what to do after you change, you peek your head out into the living area. Jeonghan is setting some snacks and water out with the TV on in the background. You take it as a sign that you’re supposed to come out and join him. Momentarily, he disappears into his room and reappears also wearing more comfortable clothes. 
The confusion only gets even worse from there. Maybe it’s just that Seungkwan’s gotten into your head. Since you’re finally processing that you might be interested in being something a little more with Jeonghan, you expect things to go a certain way. Seungkwan, and your other friends, for that matter, seem to think it’s only a matter of time before you cross over into being more than friends. Subconsciously, your brain must have latched onto that. Even wanted it, a little. But, now you’re here, and Jeonghan doesn’t do anything. He’s not the smooth, confident person that you’ve gotten to know over the course of the semester. He doesn’t try to pull any moves on you. Just makes sure that you’re comfortable, that you like the snacks, and that you like the show he has on.
It all feels like it’s a little too much and so Jeonghan shows you the way to his bedroom. Your nerves feel frayed because surely, this is the moment where things finally shift. Surely this is when he makes whatever move he’s held off on making up until this point. Quickly, you brush off the need to change the sheets. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal if something else happens. Without giving your brain a chance to overthink it, you lean in to give him a hug. His whole body tenses for a second and you’re about to pull away, when he finally relaxes and wraps his arms around you.
“You know, you can just sleep in your own bed,” you offer carefully.
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says through an emotion that you can’t place. 
“I won’t be. Plus, I’d hate to force you into your roommate’s bed,” you suggest again, meeting his eye to reinforce the point.
“Oh, well, it’s…” he starts, eyes avoiding your gaze.
“Really, Jeonghan, it’s fine. Your bed is big,” you say.
“Okay,” he agrees and walks to the other side of the bed.
It’s confusing, to say the least. He slides into the opposite side of the bed without meeting your eyes again. You’re not exactly sure how to give him another sign that you want something else to happen without making it too obvious, especially because it’s not clear if he wants that. The guy constantly in your office was just on the right side of flirty. Always trying to wear you down. This Jeonghan in his apartment is much quieter, more reserved. Like he’s not really sure what happens now that he’s gotten you outside of school like he claims he’s wanted. 
“D’you usually sleep with the TV on?” he asks and you pull a face.
“I’m not a psycho,” you snort. 
“Good to know after I let you into my apartment,” he jokes back and turns on the TV anyway. “I’ll set a timer just in case we both fall asleep.” 
Confusing. You’re laying in bed with this person that up until tonight you referred to as basically a stranger and there’s just…nothing happening. The two of you are plenty close enough that you could brush up against him, yet not touching at all. His attention seems to stay forward on the TV. Occasionally, he shifts to get more comfortable, but he doesn’t get onto his phone or even really look over at you. 
Thankfully, the bed is comfortable and without even realizing it, you drift off to sleep laying on your side, facing Jeonghan. The last thing you remember is looking up at his face. Appreciating the cut of his jaw and the way the light from the TV threw his features into contrast. Then nothing but the easiest sleep you’ve had after a night of drinking.
In the morning, when it’s too early to wake up after a late night but late enough that the sun seeps through the curtains, you have a momentary panic wondering where you are. Slowly, the night before settles back into your brain and you relax into the bed. It’s only when you feel a weight around your middle that you wonder if everything is coming back. It is, though. You think back to the last things you remember before falling asleep. Jeonghan was safely on his side of the bed. Now, his arm is draped over your waist and he’s breathing rhythmically like he’s still fast asleep. For once, instead of overthinking it, you just slow your brain back down and drift back into sleep. After all, this is one the right path to what you wanted the night before. 
The sun is fully up when you wake up again if the light streaming around the curtains is any indication. That’s not the only difference, either. There’s no weight around your waist and, when you look over your shoulder, the other side of the bed is empty. Which isn’t entirely surprising when your phone tells you that it’s nearly noon. It’s very unlike you to sleep in that late, but it makes sense. You’re just thankful that Jeonghan insisted on giving you so much water and something to make sure you didn’t wake up with a headache. Even though you’re still a little tired, you’re not hungover and that feels like a miracle. 
But, what do you do now? Nothing happened last night, despite genuinely feeling like Jeonghan had some level of interest in you. But, then he did share the bed with you and curl up to you during the night. Maybe that was his subconscious way of showing what he couldn’t say. You’re out of the bed and nearly out the bedroom door when you hear voices drifting in from somewhere else in the apartment. Voices, plural. One is clearly Jeonghan, but the other sounds female and that stops you in your tracks. 
The decision is immediate once you hear the second voice laughing at something Jeonghan says. You open your group chat with Seungkwan, Chan, and Vernon to ask if any of them are around to pick you up. Chan is the first, and fastest, to respond, saying to drop your location and he’ll be out the door to get you in a minute without any questions asked. That’s more than you’re expecting and you’re incredibly thankful. Makes it feel like one weight has been lighted as you quickly and quietly get dressed back into the clothes you wore the night before. 
Chan texts you to let you know he’s only a few minutes out. That’s your queue to actually leave the bedroom and make an appearance out in the rest of the apartment. Jeonghan’s back is to you and it looks like he’s got a cup of coffee next to him. The other person you heard from the bedroom is, in fact, a woman. She’s stunning in an effortless way that actually makes your head hurt a little bit. It has absolutely nothing to do with the drinks the night before, either. Her eyes land on you and there’s a smile you can’t place. It could be saying that she knows she won, despite whatever effort you made. Something on her face must tip Jeonghan off because he turns around.
And it’s worse than you thought, immediately. The smile on his face is both welcoming and soft, like he’s actually happy to see you. It only makes the whole thing more confusing. Why is he looking at you like that with one of the most beautiful people sitting across from him? 
“You’re awake,” he says, still smiling. “I hope Hana here didn’t make too much noise.” 
“Sorry, babe, I only have one volume setting,” she, Hana, apparently, says with another smile you can’t place. 
“Do you want coffee? Something to eat?” Jeonghan says and starts to get out of his chair.
“No, no, it’s fine. My friend is almost here to pick me up. Thanks for letting me crash last night,” you say without fully meeting Jeonghan’s eyes. It means you miss the confusion that settles in there.
Without a backward glance, you’re out the door and down the elevator. It’s only another minute or so before Chan pulls up, shockingly by himself, and smiles softly at you as you get into his car. All he asks is if you’re hungry and then starts navigating to your favorite place to get breakfast food that’s open at least into the early afternoon. It’s exactly what you need right now. 
Chan lets you just be in your head while he drives with music playing softly in the background. It might be a dangerous decision, honestly. All you can think about are reasons for that person, Hana, your brain supplies automatically, to be in Jeonghan’s apartment like that. His roommate wasn’t home, to the best of your knowledge, so that means she was there for Jeonghan. Was that his girlfriend? Was that why he was so reluctant to do anything the night before? On some level, you do know that’s probably not the right answer. The rational part of your brain knows that he wouldn’t be so calm if that was his girlfriend. There’s no space in your brain for rationality right now, though. So, you’re going to stew in the feelings that she could be dating someone. 
“Do you wanna talk about whatever happened last night?” Chan asks once you’re sitting opposite of each other in a booth. 
“Not really,” you say. “Nothing happened last night, though. So, you don’t have to worry about whoever wins the bet.” 
“I’m not worried about some stupid bet. I’m worried about you,” he says. 
You shrug. “I think I might actually like him.”
“No shit,” Chan says with a knowing smile.
“You didn’t let me finish. I think I might like him and I don’t think it matters,” you say.
“Start at the beginning and we’ll figure this out together.” 
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It’s been a week since whatever happened at Jeonghan’s apartment and you haven’t spoken a word to him since leaving. Not that he hasn’t tried to speak to you. After breakfast with Chan, you realized you had both texts and missed calls from Jeonghan trying to figure out what went wrong. Those stay unanswered. Even if you’re being stupid, you can’t really bring yourself to behave in a different way. When the next class comes around, you avoid his eyes as much as possible. The one or two times you do look over at him, he looks incredibly hurt and confused. It’s funny, you think, how he’s the one that’s acting put out by this whole situation when you’re the one who had to wake up to some other woman in his apartment without understanding anything. 
That leads to your first office hours. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t show up to those like he normally would. The office feels a lot quieter, even though other students stop by to ask questions. It just all feels very professional and detached. Not comfortable in the way it does when he drops by. It’s hard to admit, even to yourself, that you had gotten used to having him around. That you even looked forward to it. Somehow, you’re not really sure how, Jeonghan became one of your favorite parts of every day you saw him. That realization makes you want to crawl into your bed and hide forever. No matter what, it doesn’t feel like you’ll have the option to go back to that. It sucks to realize it just took you too long to come to the very obvious conclusion. 
Now, at least, it’s the weekend again so you have a short reprieve from all things school related. Well, all things Jeonghan related because you still have your own homework to handle, assignments to grade, and a new week to prepare for. At the very least, you deserve a little bit of a treat. Texting the group chat makes you realize, though, that a lot of your friends seem to have their own things going on. 
Seungkwan is out spending the day with the same person that he brought home last weekend. They seem like they’re really enjoying getting to know each other, which you’re rooting for wholeheartedly. You want your roommate and best friend to be happy. Vernon is kind of vague saying that he’s got other plans. With anyone else, you might think that he’s also seeing someone. You just know that he tends to be a little spacy when it comes to sharing plans. Knowing Vernon, he’s probably just off with some friend of his. Once again, Chan comes through and says that he could really use a coffee. Apparently, there’s some new cafe by him that he’s been wanting to try out. It feels like an excuse because Chan will absolutely go anywhere by himself, but you take it all the same. He’s actually probably the easiest of your friends to speak to about this, even if he’s younger than you are. 
One sip into your drink proves that this is the best decision for a Saturday afternoon. Chan chatters away about the things that have been going on in his life. He’s taking more dance classes in every free moment he has and it’s nice to see the way his face lights up talking about it. He certainly seems happier than any time you see him talking about his actual classes. Think about suggesting he give up one thing to pursue something else that would truly make him happy. His face is different when he’s happy like this. It makes it obvious how strained he feels with everything else.
A laugh pierces through the crowd and it gives you the worst sense of deja vu. Suddenly, you’re back in Jeonghan’s apartment. Which is crazy, right? What are the odds that he and the mystery woman are in this same coffee shop at the same time as you and Chan?
Not impossible, apparently. Well, at least in part. Your eyes cast around for the source of the laugh when they land on the mystery woman sitting with someone else that you don’t recognize. Your brain tries to stutter over the name before it forces you to think, Hana. Just as you’re about to look away, her eyes find yours like she could sense someone looking at her. She flashes a smile, which you try to return, before looking back at Chan and whatever story he’s sharing. 
That should be it. Except, when she appears by your side a moment later, you realize it’s not. She has someone else you’ve never seen in tow behind her. Chan, not always as quick on the uptake, looks up at her in confusion.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure if you remembered me…” she begins and you’re quick to answer.
“I do, yeah. Sorry about the other day,” you say. Chan’s face has a look of dawning comprehension. 
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. I didn’t even catch your name,” Hana says and you open your mouth to share before she cuts you off with a wave of her hand. “No, Jeonghan told me. He’s done nothing but speak about you for weeks now.”
“And I thought I could be annoying,” the mystery person says from behind Hana.
“Oh, I’m so rude. This is my boyfriend, Joshua,” Hana introduces and your brain short circuits. What? Boyfriend?
“And Jeonghan’s roommate. I hit traffic coming back last weekend or I would’ve been there to meet you as well. Make the morning even more awkward,” he jokes.
“I’m sorry,” you say, rapidly trying to make your brain connect. “You two are dating?”
“Yup!” Hana says with a smile and then notices your face. “Wait, what did you think? That I was dating Jeonghan?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. I just thought…it was still early-ish in the day and…” you stumble awkwardly. 
“Babe, no. Jeonghan is very single. I was just early getting there because Joshua hit traffic and I was excited to see him,” she says. “He will kill me for saying this, but he hasn’t talked about anyone but you since the class started.”
“Please note that I had no part in spilling the beans. I have to live with him,” Joshua jokes. 
“And just so there’s no more confusion, I’m one of her closest friends, Chan. Not a boyfriend or date or anything like that,” Chan says. 
“Oh!” Hana says and turns to Joshua. “Jeonghan was mentioning him, remember? There was a movie we were supposed to watch.” 
“Yeah, he did mention that,” Joshua agrees.
“Anyway, I’m sure you have lots to think about, but I’m nosy and I figured I’d say hi. Have a good weekend!” Hana says, full of more energy than anyone should have on the weekend. Joshua gives a smile and follows her out of the shop.
As soon as they’re out of sight, you drop your head into your hands. All that worrying and you could have just talked to him. Could have avoided this whole idiotic situation. 
“Feeling kinda dumb right now?” Chan asks. You raise your head to glare at him. “I did say it didn’t seem like he was seeing someone.” 
“Not the time, Chan,” you say.
“It’s completely the time. Look, yeah you fucked up by not just talking to him. But, you admitted that you liked him. He clearly likes you. Just talk to him. I’m sure you can fix it,” he says. 
“I don’t know,” you start. “I was such an asshole.” 
“I mean, yeah, you kind of were. But, he spent that whole night after Seungkwan invited them over getting to know your friends. Genuinely interested in everything we said. He’s not doing that just to make more friends. He wants to show you that he can fit into your life without anything really having to change,” Chan reasons and it brings you up short.
“When did you get so smart?” you question.
“I’ve always been smart, you just treat me like a baby,” he says with an eye roll.
“You are the baby in this friend group,” you point out. 
“Just go figure out how to make it up to him,” Chan says. 
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Even though you know it was a terrible miscommunication, you’re not sure how to approach Jeonghan for the rest of the weekend. You’re also not sure how the conversation will go. So, despite knowing better, you decide to just take your time. Get yourself completely set for the coming week and figure that you’ll see Jeonghan during the next class. As much as you want resolution, you don’t feel like it would be enough for you to text him and ask to talk. That could also be taken wildly out of context.
So, you prepare for the next class. Make sure you look a little cuter than you normally would for class. Go over what you’re going to say with both Seungkwan and Chan, who’s gotten incredibly invested in the whole situation. It’s another class where you’ll just be sitting in the back and listening, which might also make it easier. You’re a little early getting there so that you can set all your things down. 
But, then the class starts to fill in and you don’t see Jeonghan. Professor Choi closes the door, doesn’t comment on Jeonghan’s absence, and just starts teaching. It’s unusual. He normally takes attendance. Instead, he does a head count of the students and gets on with teaching. Everyone else is there. Jeonghan is the only one missing. You figure that maybe he reached out about missing the class. It leaves a weird feeling in your stomach, though, because you wonder if he’s okay. What if something happened to him? 
At the end of class, you join Choi at the front as you do on every other occasion. The answer comes immediately when Choi looks up at you. “Mr. Yoon emailed me before the class to say that he was feeling very sick and wouldn’t be able to make it. I assured him you would send over some notes on the subject matter today.” 
You try to avoid any relief that you feel at knowing it’s at least nothing that serious. It sucks that he’s sick, but at least he wasn’t in an accident or anything. You need to stop going to the worst case scenario, honestly. “Oh, sure. I’m sure he’s already ahead on the material, but I’ll send it over.”
“He’s such a good student,” Choi agrees. “Thank you for helping him with the proposal. I’m not sure if you read it over, but it’s exactly what I was looking for.”
“I did read it because he wrote it during my office hours. But, it was all him,” you say. 
Professor Choi looks up at you like he knows that’s not entirely true. “I can feel your influence on it. In a good way, of course. You have a habit of helping people get to their best results.”
“Thank you,” you say earnestly. It’s the most genuine compliment he’s ever given you. He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a folder to hand to you. “Did I miss picking up an assignment to grade?”
“No,” he says with a smile you’re not used to seeing. “This is your letter for the recommendation packet. I already sent it in, but I thought you might like to see a copy.”
“Thank you so much, Professor Choi,” you say with a relieved sigh. 
“You’re incredibly bright, probably one of the brightest students I’ve ever taught,” he says and it takes you completely by surprise. “I know it’s probably seemed like I’ve been hard on you because I have been. I knew there was even more potential in you waiting to be coaxed out. I also know I made it much easier on John to ask for a recommendation. But, between you and I, your letter is much more complimentary and personal than his was. I can’t wait to see what you accomplish.” 
It all suddenly makes sense. Everything that Choi has put you through since asking for his letter. It almost makes you laugh. “I’m sorry for doubting your motives for asking me to TA this class.”
Now, Professor Choi does actually laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize for that. It’s much easier to get the most out of a student when they think they have something to prove.”
“You may be onto something,” you agree.
“I’ll see you next class,” he says and closes up his briefcase to head off.
With that bit of good news, you feel a lot lighter. You almost don’t even need to read the letter (though, you definitely will later). It’s enough to know that your entire future is still open ahead of you. It makes all of the miscommunication with Jeonghan feel incredibly silly. It also makes you feel a little bolder. So, you figure that you still have the location for Jeonghan’s apartment dropped in a group chat. Why not get him some food and medicine to help him feel better? It’ll give you a chance to apologize for how you’ve handled everything up until this point. 
That idea seems a little poorly thought out when you show up at Jeonghan’s apartment with soup and medication. He answers the door, looking completely fine healthwise and confused to see you standing on the other side of the door. 
“Professor Choi said you were really sick so I figured I’d bring some soup to help you feel better,” you offer, holding up the bag to show him. 
“Why are you here?” he asks. There’s none of the normal warmth.
“I was worried about you,” you admit.
He sighs and leans against the doorframe without letting you in. “I can’t do these mind games.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I know I messed up really badly. I owe you an apology.” 
“You might as well come in,” Jeonghan says and steps aside. “Soup does also sound good. It’s cold out.” 
“Right, here,” you say and hand it over to him.
“Is there enough for you to eat with me?” he asks and takes the bag. “Oh, it looks like it. Wanna join me? And you can try to explain what’s been going on?” 
“Sure,” you agree.
It’s mostly silent as Jeonghan heats up the soup and puts it into two bowls for you to enjoy it with him. He sets the bowls at the kitchen table and also sets some drinks down for you. The two of you take a few sips first before you venture to explain what’s been going on.
“I’m really sorry, Jeonghan,” you say.
“So you’ve said,” he comments. He’s not going to make this easy on you.
“That whole night when I stayed here wasn’t exactly what I signed up for,” you admit. He opens his mouth, but you wave him off. “Let me try to get this out. You were so kind and caring to me when you brought me back here. Then, I was kind of expecting something to happen and nothing did…”
“Because you had been drinking. I wasn’t just gonna be like hey, let’s jump into bed when your mind wasn’t fully clear,” he says with a scoff. 
“That’s fair. I get that,” you acknowledge. “Then, I don’t know. I saw Hana sitting out here with you the next day and I just kinda freaked out. I had realized that I might actually like you and here’s this beautiful person in your apartment for who knows what reason. I worried she was your girlfriend or something.”
He snorts a little derisively at that. “That would be kinda shitty to share a bed with you and then let you walk out to find me with a girlfriend. She’s not, by the way. She’s my roommate Joshua’s girlfriend.”
“Yeah, I know. I ran into her and Joshua while I was getting coffee over the weekend,” you admit sheepishly. This seems to surprise him.
“You met Joshua?” he asks. 
“They didn’t tell you?” you ask in return and he shakes his head. “Probably because Hana told me that I’m the only one you’ve talked about since starting the class.” 
“I wouldn’t have even cared if I had an answer to why you started ignoring me,” he says. 
“I got a bit scared,” you say softly. 
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t just speak to me,” he insists.
“I know that. I really am sorry, that’s all I can say,” you offer. 
“Well that and you can tell me that you do actually like me. Not that you might like me or something else vague,” he says with a glint to his eyes. 
“You are…infuriating,” you say with a laugh. “You’re beautiful and smart and funny and impossibly kind. You make me want to pull out my hair at least once a day…”
“Don’t do that. You have nice hair,” he interjects.
“But, yes, I’m trying not to be scared anymore. So yeah, I do like you,” you say.
“What about being the TA for my class?” he asks and you shrug. 
“The class will end eventually,” you say. 
“Does this count as our first date, then?” he asks like the true demon he is. 
“Only if you plan something else for our second date,” you concede.
“Deal,” he agrees. 
Everything feels a little bit easier after that. A little bit lighter. Like you actually can breathe for the first time all semester. You tell Jeonghan about the letter and he suggests that you read it right then with him. It makes sense, in a way. Working with Jeonghan has brought out exactly the side to you that Choi wanted to see. It feels like this is kind of his win as well, even though he didn’t realize it. It also feels a little less overwhelming to read it with him by your side. (It’s a rave. Way better than anything you could have dared to hope for and better than any other letter written by him that you’ve read. Everything feels worth it and like it falls into place.)
Now that the awkwardness is out of the way, Jeonghan shares that he wasn’t actually sick, which you already know. It’s obvious looking at him that he feels fine. It does surprise you a bit that he admits to avoiding you to give himself time to process, though. Then he moves onto talking about Joshua and Hana, grumbling that they hadn’t told him about running into you after you relay the entire conversation. Even goes as far as to say that he would have come to class so that you could have figured all of this out. Instead, he admits telling Joshua about the plan to skip. That’s why Joshua isn’t there, though. He claimed he was going to give Jeonghan his space to work through whatever he was feeling and spend the night at Hana’s. You make a mental note to thank Joshua for that. 
“How early is your day tomorrow? Do you want to stay and watch a movie or something?” he asks a little awkwardly when you finish your soup.
“Not that early,” you answer easily. “A movie sounds good, but can we watch something in your room? I feel like laying in bed and being lazy.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” he says.
“We don’t have to,” you say quickly.
“Can I say something that’s really gonna make me look…not cool?” he asks. 
“Sure,” you say curiously.
“You make me a little nervous,” he admits. 
That completely surprises you. Nothing about Jeonghan really seems anything short of confident in everything that he does. It’s kind of nice to see him falter. All you do is hold out a hand to him. “It’s okay, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
He takes your hand easily and lets you lead him into his own bedroom. Seems very content to let you just set the pace of what’s happening. So, you settle on top of his covers and he hands you the remote. It’s nice to get to control what’s on the TV for a change, even if you’re not really paying much attention to it. Jeonghan is a little stiff against his headboard as you try to settle into his body. 
“Is it okay if I lean against you like this?” you ask, suddenly worrying this is too much.
“Of course,” he says after a moment. 
“You can tell me if…” you start.
“No,” he says firmly. “No, I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I had you in my bed.”
“Just since then?” you tease.
“No, it was definitely before then, but I’ve already lost a lot of cool points,” he says.
“I don’t want to possibly misread the signs, but are you okay with…” you start, once again, before he cuts you off.
“I am fine with absolutely anything you want to give me,” he says and you wish you could see his face. Wonder if he’s blushing.
“And if that’s just a cuddle?” you test.
“Fine,” he says.
“Or if it’s a kiss?” you ask and feel the breath he takes. “Or what about if it’s a lot more than a kiss?” 
He takes another beat. His voice sounds a bit strained when he speaks. “Definitely more than just fine.” 
That’s really all the confirmation that you need. Making sure you’re on the same page is important and getting this kind of consent makes it easier to relax. You settle further back into his chest and pull his arm around you, let one of your own arms drape across his lap. It feels like it might be easier for him to settle that way. So that you can’t see his face and he doesn’t have to worry about losing any more cool points. Not that those really matter with you anyway. More than anything, it’s entertaining to see the way this constantly confident, perpetual pain in the ass gets so tongue-tied now that he’s getting what he wants. 
The more time goes by, the more he seems to relax a little more into what’s happening around him. His fingers absently run along your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. He leans his head down to meet yours and you could swear his lips press the lightest kiss into your hair. His entire presence is a little overwhelming. And he smells amazing. It’s such a unique scent that you can’t place. Something light, airy, and delicate. Something that seems to perfectly suit him. It might be your new favorite scent. 
Nothing about the TV show is keeping your attention. It feels like little more than a precursor to what you both know is coming. But, Jeonghan doesn’t make the first move beyond the contact his fingers make with your arm. The first actual move seems like it might belong to you, which is actually kind of exciting. It’s a bit thrilling to know that you’re going to be in charge with this man who’s done nothing but send every one of your senses into overdrive. It’s nice to know that he doesn’t need to be in control of everything. 
Almost as if you’re testing the water, you run your hand across his lap, careful to go slowly. He stops breathing for a second as he seems to wait to see what you’ll do next. It prompts you to run your hand back and forth a few more times, not bothering to move on from the subtle imprint of his dick through his sweatpants. Everything about him stills: his hand freezes on your arm, he doesn’t fidget, and his breathing is incredibly shallow. He starts to get noticeably harder underneath your hand while you keep your eyes trained forward, even though you have no idea what’s going on in whatever show you picked as background noise. There’s something strangely intimate about this in the way it feels a little innocent. 
Finally, when he starts to moan a little with each motion, you pull your hand away. Delight in the way he actually whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s time to actually face him so that you can see what you’re doing to him. Repositioning yourself, you see the look on his face. He’s a little flushed just from the attention and his eyes are wide. Waiting. All he’s doing is waiting to let you set what happens next, like he can’t really believe that this is happening after so much time. It is, though. 
You run a hand through his hair and marvel at how soft it is when it looks perfectly styled. Either his hair just looks like that or he’s got the best products in the world. Neither feels fair when he’s already this stunningly beautiful. Gently, you lean forward to press your lips against his. Let your hand tangle in his hair as you anchor yourself to him. The kiss is at complete odds with you slowly rubbing him through his pants. There’s a little bit of desperation and you’re not even sure which of you it’s coming from. All you know for sure is that his lips are so soft that they feel like clouds and he doesn’t even fight you for control when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just meets whatever pace you set. He really is happy with whatever you give him. 
Your free hand winds down his body and doesn’t waste any time slipping into the waistband of his pants. When your hand wraps around his cock, he tries to pull away from the kiss, but you don’t let him. The moan that comes from you running your thumb over his tip gets caught up in your lips. You pull your hand out just long enough to spit into your palm and return it to the inside of his pants. Jeonghan does break the kiss when your hand wraps around his cock and strokes the first time, a hiss coming out of his mouth. 
“Are you still sure you’re okay?” you ask, but it’s almost more of a tease. 
“Fuck,” he hisses out. “Please don’t stop. Please.”
Hearing him nearly begging like that is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Never could you have imagined you would have this man like putty beneath your hands. It’s going to your head a little bit and then it hits you. You wonder if you can make him come just like this. Wonder how that would feel to have that kind of power over him. 
So, you do the only logical thing, and decide to test it out. You kiss him again, fierce and messy and desperate. Keep a steady rhythm of stroking him. He’s a squirming, writhing mess under your touch and it’s like he doesn’t even remember what to do with his hands. It’s actually turning you on as well to know that he wants you this bad. That nothing more than your lips and his touch are going to send him over the edge. It’s obvious when he starts getting close because he works harder to break the kiss. Can’t seem to catch his breath. You take a little pity on him and kiss across his jaw. Even pull away to watch him as he squeezes his eyes shut.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he whimpers.
“So come,” you direct.
“I can’t come in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he protests. “Please, I’m begging…”
“I want you to come for me, Jeonghan. Right now. Exactly like this. Come for me and show me how desperate you’ve been to have my hands on your cock,” you instruct.
“Fuck,” he draws out. “Fuck, I can’t…I’m gonna…”
His release comes almost out of nowhere, so hard and heavy that it coats your hand as you continue to stroke him through the release, coaxing every last bit from him. Once he’s spent, he collapses back against the headboard of the bed and you see any tension drain from his body. You pull your hand from inside his pants and wipe it off on them. Thankfully, he doesn’t even seem to protest. 
While his breathing steadies, you shift and get off of the bed. He slowly opens his eyes and tracks your movement. Only swallows a little hard when you start to undress without taking your eyes off him. Sometimes, this part makes you a little self conscious. It’s much easier now, though, knowing you had just made Jeonghan come in his pants. That’s an ego boost you never expected to get. His breath stutters when you even remove your bra and panties, leaving yourself completely exposed before him. His eyes go somehow even wider when you get back onto the bed and position yourself in front of him. He reaches out to touch you, but you slap his hand away.
“Oh, no, no,” you chastise softly. “No, my little demon, you are going to watch now.”
“Watch?” he asks. 
“Yes, watch,” you confirm and study his face. “Don’t you want to watch me get myself off? Don’t you want to watch me show you exactly what it is that I like?” 
“F-fuck that’s…wow,” he stutters out. 
You lean back, using one hand behind you on the bed to brace yourself. You spread your legs open to show him the way your pussy already glistens a little. The kissing and the feel of bringing him over the edge like that really turned you on. It’s a little bit of a first for you. Running a finger up your entrance, you collect some of the wetness there. Do it once more for good measure. And then, still emboldened by what’s happened so far, you reach forward to hold your finger out to Jeonghan. Let it run along his lip until he takes it into his mouth and tastes you. 
“Fuck, you’re so…just, fuck,” he hisses. “Can I…”
“No,” you say and cut him off, pulling your finger back. 
Now that you’ve had a taste of him begging for something, you want to drive him to that again. Want to get him so turned on that he can’t even see straight. You slowly tease at your entrance and watch the way his eyes track each movement. When you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples, he seems like he can’t really figure out where to look. Then, you slide one finger into your pussy and it’s like he can’t see to take his eyes off the motion. You moan, even though it’s nowhere near enough of a stretch, and increase the rhythm. Quickly add another finger and start to fuck yourself just the way you like. Just the way you would when you want to draw out your release a little more than using a toy. You slide your free hand down your body and use it to rub small circles on your clit. Somewhere, the thought of Jeonghan watching you becomes a little secondary. It’s incredibly sexy to know that he’s just watching, but you’re also invested in your own high. You want to do this for yourself as much as to show Jeonghan. Can’t possibly realize that Jeonghan is even more turned on knowing that you’re so lost to your own passion. 
The orgasm washes over you more suddenly than you’re expecting and it takes a moment to catch your breath. It takes another moment to realize that Jeonghan has undressed himself while you were lost in your own world. He isn’t touching himself though and you can’t figure out if he’s still sensitive or just waiting for your permission. It’s hard to avoid the realization that every part of him is beautiful. His body is all lean lines, not overly muscular, yet still looks strong. Even his cock is kind of beautiful in a way, which isn’t fair. It’s not surprising, though. 
“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen,” he admits, a little breathless. 
“D’you think you can make me come as well?” you tease. “Want to feel my pussy squeeze around you?” 
He nods immediately and it makes you laugh a little. “I know I can. I want…” 
“To taste me?” you offer and his eyes go dark with lust. 
“Can I?” he asks. “Can I actually get a taste? Just your finger wasn’t really enough.” 
“I want to see what that mouth can do when it’s not talking a mile a minute,” you say. “I hope you’re just as good with your tongue.”
It’s obvious that this catches him a little off guard that you’re so confident now with him. So easily fall into telling him exactly what you want him to do. But, you’re very curious to see what his skills are like. The two of you reposition so that he can settle between your legs. His eyes find yours, searching, Maybe asking permission. You nod and he uses his fingers to spread your lips open. He licks up your core and mutters a quiet fuck under his breath at your lingering wetness. The breath against your core sends a slight shiver through your body. 
After all the build up and everything, you don’t really have the patience for him to go slow. So, you tangle your hand into his hair and press his head further into your cunt. Force his nose to brush against your clit. Don’t really stop to consider if it’s too much for him. His moans into you seem to show that they’re not, though. It’s nice to just take what you need and know that he’s enjoying it just as much as you are. When you ask him (read: tell him) to add a finger, he does it without question. For someone that always seems to have a retort for everything, he’s surprisingly quiet now. Nothing piercing the quiet of the room apart from the constant stream of moans from both of you and curses from you as you get closer to your second orgasm. 
The second one hits a lot harder than the first, a fact that you wouldn’t really want to admit to Jeonghan. It’s too obvious to hide, though. You don’t even care. Jeonghan’s tongue is far better than anything you could have dreamed about. Not that you were dreaming about it. (And not that you ever got yourself off in the shower or in your bed, late at night, thinking of the annoying guy who wouldn’t ever seem to leave you alone. Absolutely not.) When you open your eyes again, you find Jeonghan looking at you with awe. There’s nothing smug about his look. It makes your insides go even a little mushier. It’s definitely not the time for those kinds of emotions. 
“Wow,” is all Jeonghan says. 
“Yeah,” you agree. 
“Do you still want to…? I mean, can we still…” he starts.
“Jeonghan, do I make you feel that nervous?” you joke. “You just ate me out and made me come all over your face.” 
He shrugs. “I just don’t wanna press my luck.” 
“Maybe we just stop here then,” you say with a return shrug. “I’m not sure you want it enough.”
“Oh, no, I definitely want it,” he disagrees.
“Are you sure?” you taunt. “Sure you can handle it?” 
That unleashes a side of Jeonghan you haven’t fully seen yet. The next moment, he’s begging you for your pussy. Begging you to show you how much he still wants you. Begging to make up for the fake that he came in his pants just at your touch. Just begging for anything and everything. He even goes as far as to say that he’ll do all the work. It shouldn’t be working for you. It’s kind of lame, the way he just can’t seem to stop himself from running his mouth. And, unfortunately, it’s working for you. You kiss him just to make him stop. 
The kiss immediately turns into something desperate, but you’re not sure which one of you takes it there first. Every new bit of him you get only makes you want even more of him. It’s kind of insane to think you weren’t even sure you liked him when it’s been so easy to fall into this. Jeonghan breaks the kiss and reaches over into his nightstand for a condom. Somehow, he manages to get it on in nearly record speed, despite his nerves about everything else. He doesn’t waste any time in positioning himself, either. You lie back when he spreads your legs open and seems a little drunk on the sight of you. You tap his side with your foot and he shakes his head clear of whatever he was thinking. 
Jeonghan lines himself up at your entrance and presses his tip in. You arch your back, moaning at the initial stretch. It’s immediately better than either of your fingers or his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in and it makes him snap into you in one swift movement. All you wanted was to be full and you squeeze your walls around him. Direct him to move. The two of you work together to figure out the right pace, knowing that neither of you is likely to last all that long. You’re both a little sensitive from everything in the lead up to this moment. Still, you revel in the way that Jeonghan rolls his hips into you. Appreciate the way that he nearly pulls all the way out before snapping back into you. Moan into the sloppy kiss when your mouths crash together. It’s hard to tell where your own whines start and his moans begin. The sounds all kind of blend together into some kind of weird harmony. 
Where Jeonghan was incredibly vocal when he was begging, he doesn’t seem to have a coherent thought to share now. Yet, his eyes never leave you. Like he’s trying to map each part of your body. It’s too fast for him to learn what you actually like. That’s not what you need, not right now. What you need is to have another release, one that comes at the same time as his own. And that’s exactly what you get when you come hard again just as you feel his thrusts stutter. A moment later, he’s coming into the condom and eventually stilling inside of you. 
The last thing you want is to feel the loss of him inside of you, but you understand that he has to pull out. His breathing is heavy when he rolls over onto his back. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to get out of bed. That it’s a struggle. But, he gets up to dispose of the condom and you hear water running in the distance. He returns a moment later with a wet cloth and starts gently washing you without even asking. He tosses the cloth on his dresser and then collapses back on the bed next to you. Pulls you into his body without a second thought.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you say softly while you’re nestled into him. 
“Like I would let you leave,” he says just as softly.
“Oh, the man that begs for my pussy is going to force me to stay?” you challenge. 
You feel the way his chest slightly rumbles with laughter. “I was hoping you’d let me live for a second.”
“After you not letting me live since we met? Fat chance,” you answer.
“I suppose I deserved that,” he says.
“I really don’t want to leave tonight, though, so hopefully you have more clothes to lend me,” you say.
“You’re gonna have to let me move for that,” he says in return.
“Worst offer I’ve gotten all day, but fine,” you agree and allow him to disentangle from you. 
Once he offers you some clothes, you also get up from the bed to get dressed. Try not to ogle Jeonghan too much as he does the same. He catches you, because of course he does, but surprisingly doesn’t say anything. Only smiles back at you. You help him remake the bed before the two of you go back out into the living area. It occurs to you that you didn’t exactly let your roommate know what you were up to before just heading straight over to see Jeonghan.
A fact that is immediately obvious when you see the texts and missed calls on your phone. Oop.
“Hey,” you call out to Jeonghan. “My roommate, I’m sure you remember him…”
“Yeah, Seungkwan, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, he’s freaking out because I forgot to say I was coming over here,” you say. “I’m just gonna call him really quick to let him know I’m fine and I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Do you want privacy?” he asks and you just laugh lightly.
“Not sure I need it,” you say and the phone is already ringing. Seungkwan answers nearly immediately.
“What the fuck? Are you okay?” he asks instead of saying hello.
“Chill, Kwan, I’m fine,” you answer. 
“Where are you? Your class ended hours ago,” he says.
“Has it been hours?” you ask with some amount of surprise. 
“Wait, where are you?” he asks again, sounding calm but skeptical now. 
“I just…just don’t worry about me for the night, okay? I’ll be home tomorrow,” you say. 
“Switch to video, you whore,” Seungkwan says skeptically.
“Don’t be a weirdo,” you retort.
“Come on! Turn on your camera!” he yells and you pull the phone away from your ear.
“Fucking fine,” you grumble and press the button on your phone before holding it back up to your face.
“I KNEW IT!” he shrieks gleefully. “Who’s shirt is that?”
“Oh, well, it’s…” you stall and look over at Jeonghan. He’s already moving toward you.
“Well?” Seungkwan prompts as Jeonghan leans over behind you so his face shows in the camera.
“It’s mine,” Jeonghan answers and Seungkwan looks like Christmas came early.
“Well, hello Jeonghan,” he says. 
“I promise to take good care of her and send her back in one piece,” Jeonghan says and Seungkwan can’t contain his grin.
“Keep her as long as you like. I’m about to be so rich,” he says, far happier than he should be.
“Goodbye Seungkwan. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say and hang up before he can say anything. 
Once you hang up, Jeonghan gives you an odd look. Like he’s trying to figure out what Seungkwan just said.
“Do I…want to ask?” he finally asks.
You sigh. “Seungkwan started placing and taking bets about me sleeping with you as soon as I mentioned you.” 
“And when was that?” he asks, seemingly not even surprised by the bets. You internally curse.
“After the very first class when you mentioned you joined because you like Legos,” you admit. 
“We could have saved so much time,” he whines and you just shake your head.
“This is exactly how it was supposed to go,” you disagree.
“Maybe,” he concedes. “Should we get some sleep? We can figure everything else out in the light of day.”
“Sounds perfect,” you agree and follow him to bed. 
It’s far easier than it should be to settle into bed with him. Like you’ve done it a million times before. Maybe it’s okay to allow yourself to have the things you want. Maybe this can all be as easy as attaching one block to another until you have something amazing. 
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i hope you liked it! and like i said, i'll be back to fix any spelling/grammar errors after the weekend.
taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n , @christinewithluv, @hipsdofangirl, @sana-is-ms-rmty, @lllucere, @vixensss, @soffiyuhh @aidanjoon, @hanniebub, @stormy1408, @lilifiedeans, @hyucksrealm, @joshuaslv, @tinkerbell460 (strikethrough means can't tag)
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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago
Text
The Love (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: 1,323
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.
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Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.
He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.
"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.
She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.
"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.
"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."
"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't know what love is."
Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.
"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."
Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.
"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."
"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."
"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.
"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."
"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"
Alastor looked up from his glass.
"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."
"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.
"Actually, I do."
Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Alastor! You've been in love!?"
Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.
"Yes."
Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.
"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.
"It was a long time ago."
Alastor took a long sip from his glass.
"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.
"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."
He trailed off, taking a breath.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.
Alastor shook his head.
"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.
Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.
"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."
"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"
"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."
"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."
"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"
"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."
Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.
"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.
"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."
Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"
"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."
"Then wh-"
"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"
"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.
"I'm sorry."
Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"
"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.
Charlie turned to him.
"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."
"Right you are, my dear."
"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"
Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.
"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."
"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."
"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."
"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"
"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."
The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.
"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.
"Y/n."
It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.
"Her name was Y/n."
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sanguineterrain · 5 months ago
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Hello sanne! I have a request, if it inspires you: what about reader who's been hurt and has amnesia when they wake up. And Jason is there and reader gets all flustered because pretty boy alert!! Pretty boy is speaking gently to them!! And in actuality Jason and reader are together. I hope that made sense 😭 love your writing so so much!!
this is such a sweet request!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw medical setting, reader is on pain meds and has been in an accident, major major fluff, established relationship.
****
The first thing you notice is that your mouth tastes... not good.
You try to swallow and clear out the taste. All that happens is a useless smack of your tongue. Your throat is too dry for any swallowing to happen.
"...been out for about twelve hours. Yeah, I've been here the whole time."
You're pretty sure that you know that voice. You're drawing a blank on that voice's name, but you swear you know the voice.
"They're awake. Yeah, bye."
It's deep and warm and soft and yes. You definitely know the voice.
Okay. Opening your eyes.
You do so with substantial effort. Your vision is bleary. All you can make out are blobs of gray. You've got a lot of eye boogies in your eyes. You can feel them.
But you're not really sure about where your hands are at this moment in time, so the eye boogies will have to camp out for a little longer.
"Hey." The bed shifts. That warm voice gets closer. "Hey, hey. Y'thirsty?"
A straw taps your lips. You clumsily take it and drink until it gurgles and there's no more water.
"Yeah, I'll bet you're thirsty. Want more?"
You shake your head. A cool, rough hand pets your forehead. Oh, that's nice. That's very nice. The bedside manner in this hospital is impeccable. A little forward, but you don't mind. The voice and his hand are both very polite.
Time to try to actually see some shit. You hone in on your vision, putting every iota of brainpower into processing what your eyes are telling your brain.
A figure. A man. Huzzah!
Oh. Oh, wow. A very beautiful man. A big, hulking, beautiful man.
He's young, boyishly handsome. His eyes are bright. A scar is etched from the top of his right temple to his lip. There's a white streak in his dark hair. Is that a trend now? You can't remember.
"Where 'm I?" you ask.
"You're in the Batcave. How much do you remember, honey?" the gorgeous, beautiful, dreamboat nurse asks.
Well, you remember being in a car, and then being ejected from that car, and then hot, blinding pain, and then... waking up.
"Car accident?" you manage.
Pretty Nurse nods. Is he a nurse? He looks more like a biker, with his leather jacket and empty holsters. He looks like he could pin you down with one arm and—
Whoa. Chill.
"Yeah, kinda. There was an explosion. You hit your head pretty hard." He strokes the back of your head, frowning. "How do you feel?"
You feel like your head has an anvil tied to it. But it's okay, because look at this biker-nurse! Wowza!
He takes your hand (you have hands! Huzzah!) and strokes your knuckles with his thumb, which is fine, actually, because he has really nice eyes. You want to tell him.
"You h've nice eyes," you say.
Pretty Nurse blinks, looking startled. His cheeks go a little pink. "Oh. Um, thanks, baby. Y'sweet."
Baby? Do you really have that much rizz as a medical patient? You can't imagine how irresistible you must be when you haven't been in an explosion.
But then everything shatters when you look down and see a silver band on his hand. What the shit! He's married? Or engaged, at least. Son of a biscuit.
And he's flirting with you? What a pig!
You snatch your hand back, suddenly sour. Pretty Nurse raises his eyebrows.
"What's a'matter?"
"You have a ring," you say, voice dripping in contempt.
"I—" He looks down. "Uh, well, yeah. I do."
Devastating. "If you're taken, you shouldn't be flirting with me, jerk."
He squints. "Wh—oh. Oh. Huh."
Pretty Biker Nurse looks like you've just said something funny. You don't see what's so funny about infidelity. May God strike him down!
He smiles coyly. "D'you know who I am, sweetheart?"
"Yes," you say, glowering. "Y'just a no-good philanderer who should be ashamed of hi'self. Don't care how handsome you are; I won't enter your web of lies!"
He laughs, bright and sweet. Damn him! You need a different nurse. This one is the epitome of temptation.
"Oh, baby. Oh, you're too cute. Can I take your hand?"
"Not if you're gonna flirt more," you say, lifting your chin. "Dirtbag."
"Your moral code is incredible, honey. Good to know I'll never have anything to worry about, though I never doubted you. Can I show you something, though?"
He lifts your hand and on your finger is a gold band. More delicately shaped than his ring, but similar.
"Oh my God," you say, panic growing. "I'm cheating on my husband."
He laughs louder this time. "Your fiancé, actually. Wedding isn't till August. And no, honeylove. You're not cheatin', 'cause I'm right here."
He leans in and kisses your forehead. Your hackles raise for a moment until... wait...
"You're my fiancé?" you ask, eyes huge.
He smiles shyly. "In the flesh. Y'remember my name?"
You feel like it's a J name. "J..."
"Jason," he says gently. "Yeah, wow. They got you on some pretty strong meds, huh? Leslie said you should start to remember more stuff in a day."
Jason. Pretty Biker Nurse Jason. Holy moly. He's engaged to you? About to marry you?
"You are so pretty," you blurt.
That makes Jason more shy. He smiles like he's done something he's not supposed to do. "Not as pretty as you, honey pie."
"No, you're... I mean, wow. Sorry I called you a jerk. How did I get with you? That's crazy. You're fine as hell."
Jason snorts, wide shoulders shaking. His cheeks are red. "Jesus, you're shameless."
Well, yeah. You're still not sure this isn't a dream. You have to let your fiancé know exactly what you think about him.
You prepare to tell him something smooth and romantic. Something about how kissable he looks.
"Y'look like a sexy biker."
Hm. Not exactly what you had in mind. Your brain feels like a blue raspberry slushie.
Jason grins. "Oh, yeah? That why you been starin' at me? Didn't know you had a thing for bikers. You're terrified of going on my motorcycle."
How does he know that? It's true; you like bikers from afar but you're not about to get on a death machine, thanks.
"You can rev my engine," you say, head slumping against the pillow.
"Oh my God," Jason says, clearly delighted. "Don't think I've ever seen this reaction to pain meds."
"Can't believe we're engaged," you say again. "How'd we even meet?"
"Well, I'm a vigilante of sorts, and the first time we met was after I saved you from a mugging. And then we kinda just... kept running into each other. You bought me coffee without realizing who I was. And we, uh, fell in love. As people do."
"You proposed to me in Spain," you say suddenly, the memory rushing back. "You... you wanted to prove you wouldn't put work above us."
Jason nods, lacing your and his fingers together. "Yeah, that's right. Three weeks in Spain." He pulls out his phone and shows you the lockscreen. It's of you two. Jason has sunglasses on. You're smiling. You can't remember ever smiling like that before.
Tears suddenly spring to your eyes, emotion smacking into you like an eighteen-wheeler. Jason leans in, concerned.
"Baby? Hey, what's wrong? Something hurts?" he asks, inspecting your head.
Your mouth quivers. "You... you love me so much."
Jason stops, tilting his head. "I... uh, yeah. 'Course I do. You're the person I love the most in the world."
That makes you cry, tears running down your cheeks. Jason's eyes widen in alarm.
"Sweetheart? What's—hey, it's okay. Why're y'crying, huh?"
He brushes your tears away with his thumbs, cradling your face. You sniffle.
"I'm s-sorry I called you a dirtbag," you blubber. "Y'not a dirtbag. You love me so much."
"Oh-ho, oh, honey. Baby, you've been unconscious for twelve hours. You're under heavy medication. I know you didn't recognize me, it's okay. Trust me, I've been called far worse," Jason says tenderly.
Dear God, you're a beast. What kind of person doesn't recognize their own fiancé?! You cry harder.
"I should've remembered you! I'm a bad fiancé," you wail.
"Aw, sweetheart. No, no, it's okay. C'mere."
Jason scoots you over slightly and pulls you into his arms. You cry into his shoulder, slobbering all over his sexy biker jacket. He rubs circles on your back.
"You're really cute and nice and I'm glad y'marrying me," you say, muffled in his shoulder.
Jason hums, the sound vibrating through you. "I'm really happy to be marrying you, sweetheart. You rock my world."
You sniff. "Really?"
"Mmhm." Jason kisses the side of your neck. "How 'bout you sleep a little more, hm? I bet you're exhausted."
Now that he mentions it, you do feel pretty worn-out. Especially after crying. And almost getting blown up.
"Will you be here when I wake up?"
"Absolutely, honey. I swear."
Jason eases you onto your back. Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy.
"Sleep, beautiful. I'm right here."
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peachesofteal · 4 months ago
Text
Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request angst 3/3 (4?)
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"Where is she?"
"She took Orion home so they could both get some rest. They'll be back in the morning." He stares at the wall, picks a small spot, lines it up like he's looking through a scope. He doesn't look at Price, can't acknowledge whatever he'll find there. Pity, concern, worry. "It was an accident, Simon. She knows that, we all do."
"I want to be alone."
"Simon-"
"Captain. We're in a civilian hospital, and I want to be alone." It's meant as a reminder. They're not at work. They're not in the field. There's no rank in this room right now, only friends, and he doesn't want to be around friends right now. He doesn't want to be around anyone except for you, and his son, but you're not here because of something he did. He did this. This is his fault. Again.
Nothing makes sense. He can't even remember it, he's not sure he wants to. The look on your face when he woke up and you were plastered to the wall across the room told him everything. He hurt you. He frightened you. His wife. His everything. Terrorized by a monster, a circle unbroken.
The snake truly does eat itself.
The idea of hurting you boils the acid in his stomach, bringing it up his throat and into his mouth, before it rushes out violently onto the blankets covering his lap.
He doesn't call for a nurse to clean it up. He just sits there, head tipped back against the bed, medicine pulling him under again.
"There's your dad, huh? Is that your dad?" Kyle bounces Orion before placing him in Simon's outstretched arms.
"Hey, little man," he looks him over, cataloguing all the changes, the growth, the way his eyes track Simon's movements, his smile. "You're so big now." His voice cracks. Kyle gives him a nod, and then steps out.
Orion babbles, grunts and coos stringing together as he pushes himself up and down on Simon's chest. It hurts, but he swallows it down in favor of holding his son. "Where's your mama? Is she here?" Why didn't you come? Why didn't you bring him? Even though he knows the answers, the questions still linger.
He wants his family. His whole family. The only thing he's clung to for months and months, his moon and star. The only light in the dark.
His heart aches.
The next time his door opens, it's dark. The nurse slips out, light turned down in his room, and he's startled from his sleep, catching the outline of someone curled up in the recliner to the left of the bed, closer to the window.
It's you. You're asleep, legs kicked over the side, blanket twisted in your lap. You're knocked into the side of the chair, cheek flush with the fabric. You're bone weary, lips parted, hair free.
You're here. You came.
Selfishly, he wants to wake you. Wants to crawl out of this bed to sit at your feet, on his knees, his head in your lap, begging for forgiveness.
He stares at you. Soaking in every quiet second, every expression painted onto your sleeping face, every twitch, every quiver. Hours pass, and his eyes almost close-
when yours open.
He whispers your name.
"Hey." You tuck your knees close. Defensive posture. The thought strikes a burst of pain through him.
“I’m sorry.” He chokes hoarsely, and you nod.
“I know. It’s not… you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I still did it.”
“Simon…” your sigh is heavy, sad, and he gulps for air, fear freezing through him.
“Will you… can you sit over here?” He nods to chair directly at his bedside, the smaller one, and you swallow. “Please. I can’t see you that well. I want to see you.” He’s so fucking weak for you, it’s almost unbelievable, holding his breath until you’re settled beside him, close enough he can see the tears in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” his voice cracks. “You don’t know how sorry I am, I’d never, never hurt you. I’d die for you, mama. Without a second thought.”
“I know.” Your voice trembles, and tears roll down your cheeks. He wants to reach for you, pull you into his arms, but he doesn’t know if you’d want him to. If you’ll ever want him to again.
“I love you.” You nod, thumb rolling over the sapphire on your finger.
You don’t say it back, eyes dropping to the floor. “Your doctor says you can come home at the end of the week.” Come home.
“Do you want…” your head snaps up, alarmed.
“Of course I want you to come home. I… I just…” you rub your chest. He wants to melt into this mattress and disappear inside it.
“Are you hurt? Sore?” You shake your head.
“No I just… can’t stop seeing it.” Your head droops, hiding your face, and he holds his breath as your shoulders start to shake. “I’m sorry, I should’ve known better… I k-know well enough when you’re having a nightmare, I messed up, I-.”
“No, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were there for me, an’ I hurt you. I messed up, not you. Do you understand?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice is tear stained, soaked.
It’s a risk, but he reaches for you. A hand hovering in the air, waiting. Hoping.
You wipe your cheeks, and then fold his fingers into his.
He gives you a squeeze. “It’s not your fault, okay?”
“Okay.”
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