#just when i think my sleep schedule has improved

[chanranghaeys]

🐸 “come here, hold my hand.”

request from my og @tusswrites! "come here, hold my hand.” “you’re washing the dishes.” “…i can do both…” with minghao? please i love this man and I’ll crumble if he says this to me 😭

pairing: minghao x gn!reader word count: 1k+ genre: fluff, slice of life (HELLO IT'S ME) rating: pg tags: pure fluff, physical touch as the love language, mundane stuff, household chores, request prompted washing the dishes so you will have washing the dishes, i try to make up a song warnings: none

a/n: finally found the random inspiration for this drabble that ended up with more than 1k words. purely self-indulgent. bear with me. as someone who always washes the dishes, i want this. bow.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Minghao is a strong believer in physical touch as a love language.

Popular media doesn’t showcase this all too well because of the image and concept that has been formed around him. Still, physical touch is the love language that remains superior in his opinion. This means being able to reach out to the other person and hold them in any manner, being in proximity to them to express how you feel, and being in the same room with each other regardless of what you are doing.

He says it’s about having something tangible to hold—tactile in his hand and palpable on his body—and how he appreciates having the people around him to physically ground his thoughts and dreams that can soar as high as the heavens allow. It reminds him that he doesn’t just have his rational mind anchoring him down but also something and someone to help make sense of things.

Minghao, contrary to popular belief then, is actually a very clingy person.

Words are not and will never be his strong suit. Yes, he can write. Yes, his words are like poetry, like water flowing through the rough in cascades of emotion, but they only come out when the cup is full. On a day-to-day basis, Minghao expresses his love which can be felt even through the slightest brush of hands.

This is a fact that you learned almost immediately.

He comes home, wordless, whether to his place or your place, and the first thing he does is go in for a hug. No matter where you are or what you are doing, he forces you to stop so he can hug you for who knows how long, deeply, fully, and wholeheartedly—not that half-assed wraparound from the side that people excuse for a hug.

It’s a habit he started during a particularly trying time in his life. He would pull you closer and engulf you in his arms, burying you in his scent as he buries himself in the crook of your neck or the crown of your head.

Naturally, during a particularly trying time in your life this time, you picked up his habit easily and did the same to him.

Scientific studies show that a 20-second hug is enough to release oxytocin that can lower stress levels and improve quality of life. Whatever the research says, you and Minghao do agree that this little practice has made your lives easier and more bearable than they used to be.

Recently though, you always end up missing each other at home. He would come home late nights and early mornings after schedules to find you sound asleep in your bed, while you would wake up a few hours later to his sleeping form recovering from the previous day’s demands. You’d come home one too many days to a space devoid of his comforting presence, and the same could be said for him.

It happens, you think. It’s absolutely normal. Being this busy just means that both your lives are taking a turn for the better, right?

But still, you miss him, despite coming home to each other every day. You miss the simple act of sharing your silence together and you miss the way his touches would simultaneously calm you down but also keep you on your toes.

Today, you couldn’t help but feel lonelier than usual as you set your jacket and bag down to be greeted by a dark apartment room. Based on his last message a few hours ago, Minghao was still in the studio practicing. He sent a selca with the other performance unit boys and you don’t deny how you stared at his sweaty hair and bare smiling face for a minute longer than you thought you did.

But you had a good day at work, where everything just worked out the way you wish every day would, and you absolutely will not let anything rain on your small moment of happiness. No, not even the mess of a room you left this morning and not the pile of dishes you didn't realize remained unwashed this morning.

So you turn on the speakers and press play on a song that has Minghao’s voice fill the empty space. It was one of his unreleased demos for his recent solo EP. It was a shame because this was your favorite from his endless roster of songs—a song where the lyrics talked about how the most mundane of moments could be the most special if you had your love’s hand to hold.

You started on the dishes and got lost in the process almost meditatively in the menial task. It was enough to startle you when you heard your name from behind you. You see him in fresh clothes and slightly damp hair, a clean scent emanating from his presence.

“When did you get home?” You asked in reply to your most favorite voice in the world.

“Just now,” Minghao instinctively reached out to latch onto your waist, easily letting your gravity pull him to you in your natural ritual of finding purchase in each other's nooks and crannies. As if you were two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly, he molds his body against yours with his chest flush to your back and his hands folding on the flat of your stomach.

He breathed in your scent and you felt his smile against your temple. Instantaneously, you relax against his touch as he says against your ear, “I missed you.”

You turn to find his lips, softly pressing yours against them and repeating his words to him. With a smile, you continue your reply with a melody to your voice. “Come here, hold my hand.”

You feel his chuckles with his cheek pressed on yours when he says, “But you’re washing the dishes.”

“I can do both.”

So he does, intertwining one of his hands with yours—albeit awkwardly—and helping you finish the chore in front of you. His soft giggles mingle with yours as you two find a rhythm to washing the dishes among four working hands.

You two stay in this position for a while with the song still playing in the background, the lyrics resounding as you sway in time with the rhythm.

“Come here, hold my hand, pull me in, and let me orbit around your gravity…”

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: still from my little drabble request game and still accepting requests! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3

[burningcomputerpersona]

how the fuck are ppl having actual social lives with this amount of courseload. i lose all my hobbies during the semester bc i don't have time for anything besides schoolwork but there are ppl out there hanging out with friends every day and having parties on the weekend. how.

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[ms-demeanor]

I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[pppeachyyys]

*ೃ༄ bllk boys + cliche love tropes!

ft: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, mikage reo

✩ what cliche love trope are the blue lock boys?

female reader, so much fluff, i got a lil lazy..., hc + small drabble!!

ISAGI YOICHI - childhood friends to lovers 

✩ everything is a "do together" activity. this includes (and is not limited to) throwing woodchips in the playground, studying, eating bentoes, sleeping, even taking baths.

✩ naturally, you both are very protective of each other!! the years of bonding gave you two an unbreakable connection.

✩ had fake marriage ceremony behind the slides in the playground, and you both just kind of stuck to the idea of "husband and wife" ever since. (you were both 6)

✩ despite it being so long, isagi still gets so flustered around you!! he has that sweet grin every time he greets you in the morning. 

✩ always waits outside your door to walk together to school. sometimes when it's cold, he'll even offer his extra scarf for you, wrapping it around your face.

✩ when people ask about you, hes so quick to simply go "oh, n/n? we're gonna get married for real one day!" with that cute smile and blush.

✩ it even gets to a point where when he goes pro, he ALWAYS makes sure to mention your name in every single interview.

↳

sweat dribbles down to isagi's chin, his chest heavy, rising up and down in attempt to catch the oxygen he's so desperate for. despite it not even being 30 minutes after one of his biggest games, he's getting bombarded with the press and their eggy questions.

the man closest to him raises his mic towards isagi and the cameras zero in on the two. it's hard to hear his voice due to the pumping of blood through his veins, but he manages to catch the basic idea. 

"who are the people who have supported you to becoming the star player of the game today?"

isagi is quick to think of one particular person. despite feeling absolutely milked, a smile forms on his face. with heavy breathing, he replies, "well, obviously my parents and my teammates, they always pushed me to be better and improve, but there's a special girl out there who has always been my biggest supporter." 

the crowd audibly coos, the flashes simply getting even brighter. isagi can tell that everyone is begging for him to continue, so he does, his desire to brag about you growing. 

"she's always been there for me, watching me since i managed to find my love for soccer. and  i don't think i could be here if it wasn't for her." he ponders if he should say the next sentence, but the swell of his heart overtakes his brain.

"thank you, y/n. and when i come back home, i'll make sure you're the happiest girl in the world."

ITOSHI RIN - forced proximity

✩ when i say forced, IM TALKING FORCED!! like- you're the foreign exchange student living in his own house!

✩ at first, its awkward. little word is exchanged between you two, and the only interaction you get is a simple "it's your turn to shower" or "come down to eat dinner". 

✩ he also never walks with you to school either despite living in the same house and attending the same school.

✩ eventually, you're convinced that you're never going to befriend rin, but a small upbringing makes you realize that he's just shy and closed off.

✩ once you slowly gain understanding of rin's true character, it's a little easier to talk to him. and even he starts to warm up a little.

✩ living in the same house brings so many opportunities and it's impossible to avoid not getting close!!! 

↳

a fun fact you've learned about rin is that he is always on schedule and has a strict routine. this includes everything from his well kept diet, sleeping at 9pm sharp, and even his devoted time to reading a book for 30 minutes once it hits 7pm.

everything about his life has set rules and orders, and once again, this includes his showers. 

it's not like you're purposefully trying to learn what he does every minute of the day, it's just that he's so prominent with his ritual that you simply learn it without realizing. after eating dinner, he always thanks his mother for the meal. then he heads towards the bathroom to wash up for exactly 45 minutes and heads over to tell you the bath is free at 6:50 on the dot. 

so why is it taking longer than usual today?

for some odd reason, you're worried. rin has practically mastered his way of living and to think that he's behind on something as simple as a shower makes you wonder if he decided to drown himself in the sink. should you check up on him? you guys aren't close like that but you can't help but stand up and make a beeline to where the shower is.

you hesitantly knock on the door. "uh... rin? you okay? it's been pretty long since you've been in there." 

it's silent for a few seconds until the door clicks. you're met with the sight of messy wet black hair, grey sweatpants hung low, and a white tee that simply adds to the masculinity of rin. 

at this time, you also remember that the boy you're temporarily living with is jaw droppingly handsome, and you can't help but avoid eye contact. 

"sorry, we ran out of shampoo so i had to replace it."

his response is short. simple. you just nod and let him pass, still trying to refresh your brain. you're confused. has he always been so charming?

MIKAGE REO - loser bf and cool gf / shikimori is not just a cutie trope

✩ yeah, your boyfriend is pretty cool, but he's not as cool as you!

✩ you're KNOWN to do good at everything and also look absolutely stunning while doing it.

✩ sure, reo is popular. people are fawning over him 24/7 and so many people wish they could be him. but behind that facade, he's truly reduced to a love struck loser who is completely whipped for his girlfriend.

✩ i mean- you can't blame him! you're always there to save the day for him.

✩ he somehow forgot his notes (he's usually an organized person)? you have yours to share! he forgot how to tie his own tie for some odd reason? don't worry, you can always tidy him up!

✩ he realizes that ever since you guys started dating, he's simply turned into a lost puppy without your aid. and honestly, he's okay with that.

✩ he's still the confident, talented, charming guy as always. it's just that he would rather let you save him and take him far away to a distant land.

↳

reo comfortably situates himself next to you, the grass of his schools soccer field tickling his ankles. he's lost in listening to your rambling and also staring at your face, simply smiling whenever you would look at him mid rant.

in fact, he's so far gone that he fails to notice the screams of people on the field warning the both of you of a soccer ball on it's way to decimate you both, and he also fails to notice that you catch on to the warnings. 

"reo, watch out!" practically in slow motion you yell, using your hands to push him onto the ground and then lifting them to catch the ball (which was going at an unreasonable crazy speed) smoothly onto your palms. 

he blinks once. twice. the shock factor has made it hard for him to process what just happened and he can only stare as you return the ball back to whoever. he watches as you return back to him, your fingers reaching to brush away his lilac hair.

you help lift him back up. "are you okay reo? that ball was moving so fast, i thought we were both gonna be dead!" your fretting makes reo smile. 

"well, i'm just fine, knowing you're always there to save me."

[shadesoflsk]

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it. 

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?” 

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

     ⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now? 

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[bonbonly]

Wait because why do I need to hear more about college lando like I feel like he would be into corrupting his innocent friend IDK MAYBE IM JUST SELF PROJECTING AT THIS POINT

Sorry if this didn’t make sense bonbon I’m running off like an hour of sleep 😭

-🎃

no no dont apologize! 🎃 anon you are onto something here ok

bon's thoughts (18+)

collegeau!lando. ok im writing this and had like the filthiest thought come into my mind oh my goddd but i can see you being top of the class, sitting in the front and answering all the questions in class. lando's sitting in the back, sleeping most of the time but there's rare occasions when you drag him to the front and he watches you raise your hand and ask questions that impresses the professors. he's a bit jealous, but then realizes that instead of trying to be like you, why couldn't you be more like him?

you're so innocent and sweet, it all comes to plan when he invites you to the library late at night. you never went to the library at night, only the morning because you always rambled on about how 8 hours of sleep was required for a good day. he reasons that its a friday night, it's ok and that was the only reason you show up in the private study room. you open the door and see him stroking his cock, eyes glued on his laptop as he's taking notes.

"lando?" you frown, eyes traveling to his hard cock. he waves at you, greeting you with a smile, though you can't seem to understand what he's doing, "lando what's going on?"

"oh, this? this helps me study!" he smiles, going back to stroking his cock as he's reading the notes you sent him earlier in the day. you frown,

"really? i know almost every study technique, i-i've never heard of this," you reply, tilting your head to get a better look at him.

"that's because only i use this technique, i found it out one day but i can't seem to perfect it. i just... i just think im not good at it. could you help me out?" lando asks, and you nod your head. you'd do anything to help your friend!

he directs you to your knees, and has you under the table. he's this close to giggling, he can't believe how innocent you are... how stupid you could be to let him do this to you! this is so much fun to him, and he presses his thumb into your mouth, opening it gently before guiding you down on his cock. he nearly cums right there, your mouth feels like heaven. he's having you suck his cock the whole night, your throat is covered in just his cum and when it's around 5 am, you're whining about how he ruined your sleep schedule.

"but you helped me study!" he exclaims and you shrug your shoulders,

"I guess so... as long as it helps you to study."

and so for the rest of the semester (and maybe for the rest of your years at uni) every friday night consists of you sucking on lando's cock, he even goes so far as to have your pussy wrapped around him as he's fucking into you like a madman, refusing to elaborate how exactly this benefitted his studying but you're very thankful that his grades are improving, somehow.

you're still top of the class, don't worry about that, lando would never ruin your education like that. but it was really funny to see you sitting in the front row with his cum dripping down your thighs, cock drunk to the max because now you're insisting you can only study with his cock stuffed inside your cunt.

that's a win for him.

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — THREE.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, somehow also a christmas and new year’s au, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, rumors as a plot device, bullying, alcohol consumption, cheesy shit, a few makeout scenes WAHAHHAHA. WORD COUNT. 28k (out of 49k).

NOTE. whoa.....HAHHAHAHA. this was long overdue, so i saved up my yapping for the afterword. anyhow, here it finally is 😭😭😭 my blood, sweat, and tears. mostly tears. enjoy. please let me know what you think, and happy new year to all!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

#3: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HOW MUCH OF YOUR IDENTITY HE’S STRIPPED AWAY. Your title has changed from Choi Beomgyu’s girlfriend to Choi Beomgyu’s cheating girlfriend. Such an upgrade. It’s like you have a sign with that title label hovering and pointing to your head every time you pass through a decently crowded hallway, or enter an occupied area. Like Horangnabi, for example. You’re minding your own business, sipping on your iced mocha, and the people on the next table keep snagging glances at you.

Julie shows up with a loud cough, practically slamming your cinnamon waffle onto the table. The group snaps their eyes off of you and jumps into a sudden conversation. Julie rolls her eyes. “If I hear anyone talking crap, I’m kicking them out of the shop.”

“Are you even allowed to do that?” You’re pretty sure the cafe belongs to the school. And Julie seonbae is still a student here. 

“No one’s ever here to supervise. This is my store now,” is her logical response. She takes a seat in front of you. You’re also pretty sure she’s still on duty. “Anyway, how was your break, pretty? Did you get some rest?”

Last week was the rest week after midterms, so you were able to spend the last six days at home in Daegu. Beomgyu wasn’t able to join you because he and the coding club— and this was hard to believe at first— had decided to join a game development contest hosted by TXT Inc. Shocker, you know. You couldn’t believe your ears after hearing the news from Beomgyu. 

But he crushes your feeling of pride just as quickly as he triggered it. They’re not doing this entirely out of passion and willingness, he said. The extracurriculars office threatened to shut down their club if they fail to show any tangible results before the end of the semester. 

Well, you guess if there’s anything that can get a bunch of boys to actually start properly operating their club, a dissolution threat will work wonders. They scrambled to find something they could do— a proposal to improve the MIS, events, anything. Fortunately for them, the TXT Inc. competition advertisement showed up on Yeonjun’s feed right when they needed it. Unfortunately, the deadline for the contest is mid-December. It’s now the last week of October. They’ve got like two months to cram an entire game from scratch, so for the entirety of the one-week break, they’ve been in a self-imposed isolation in the clubroom. To say that they’re on a tight schedule is an understatement. 

Which is why you’re at Horangnabi right now. To buy a fuckload of coffee for those poor, sleep-deprived chumps. Another barista walks up to your table with a dozen cups of coffee, halved into two takeout containers, and you bid Julie farewell before heading out to make your way to the clubroom.

It’s concerning how they haven’t even locked the door. It’s even more concerning how you’re met with pitch darkness the moment you swing the door open— save for the singular glow of one computer screen on the opposite end of the room.

You flick the lightswitch on. Groans erupt. It’s like you’ve just revived the dead.

“Turn off the sun,” you hear Heeseung groan from below. He’s laid on the worn out couch by the door, shifting around underneath a blanket. Looking around, you see the other corpses strewn about. “Turn it off.”

“What a mess.” Navigating through the sleeping bags on the floor (sleeping bodies included), you notice that it’s littered with a distressing amount of plastic bottles and takeout boxes. You grimace. “I got you guys coffee. Come and get it.”

The first person to be revived is Yeonjun. The sound of the containers set on the table stir him up from the couch, next to Heeseung, and he stumbles over to you, finishing out an americano from the box. “Thanks,” he drawls out, patting you on the head before making a turn towards the door. “Ugh. I need to wash my face.”

“You go do that,” you say. “Everyone, come get your coffee then get out. This place is a biohazard. Go out and get some sunlight while I clean up.”

If they keep working in this environment, you’re pretty sure one or seven of them are gonna catch a disease. After a few more moments of coaxing and physical threats, most of them eventually evacuate from the clubroom. You had to physically kick Heeseung out before locking the door. The only one left is a certain Choi Beomgyu, still curled up on a chair against the half-wall. He’s stuck behind the table, one remaining cup of coffee left behind for him. Poor guy. He looks like absolute shit. You decide to pick up the crap on the floor first before kicking him out.

To get some more light in this damned cave, you pull open the curtains and turn on the lights in the back. Copious amounts of rustling and two full trash bags later, Beomgyu is still knocked out. You’re not surprised. He sleeps like a corpse.

You set the bag aside against the door, spraying some sanitizer into your hands before walking up to him, quietly wedging yourself behind the table because he’s still got his headphones glued to his ears. That can’t be healthy. You try to remove it from his head, sitting down on the chair next to him, carefully placing your hands on the sides of his face, but this stirs him awake.

Beomgyu grumbles and shifts in his seat. And then you hear him mumble out your name with a question mark at the end. “Morning, idiot,” you say, retracting your hands. “I got you coffee.”

“It’s...it’s morning?” he groans, barely coherent.

“It’s five past nine,” you tell him. “What time did you sleep?”

“I don’t know,” he grunts, pulling up his legs to the chair and scrunching himself up even more with a yawn. “I just decided to nap when my eyes couldn’t distinguish the ones from the zeroes anymore.”

You laugh. “Get some more rest,” you say, getting up from the chair. “I’ll close the curtains, hold on—”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re tugged back onto your seat, and you feel Beomgyu drop his head onto your shoulder. “I’m gonna—” he releases another yawn. “I need’ta get up in a bit anyway.”

A breath slips past your lips. His head is so god damned heavy and you struggle to squirm into a comfortable enough position, all while trying to make sure you’re not moving too much to keep his head steady on your abused shoulder. While you’re doing that, you hear a knock from the other side of the clubroom door. Which is weird, because none of those fuckers knock at all. They tend to just barge in whenever they want.

Beomgyu recognizes this anomaly as well. He jolts up, relieving you from his weight. “Ah, shit,” he remarks, and— for some reason— starts...crawling underneath the table? “Can you answer the door? If someone’s looking for me, tell them I’m not here.”

You’re more than a little confused. Beomgyu’s face wrinkles into a grunt when another round of door knocks echo into the space, and he ducks further under the table, shielded from whoever the hell is on the other side of the door in case they walk in. Despite not receiving any answers on an explanation, you do as he says. Opening the door, you’re immediately slapped in the face by a loud, over enthusiastic voice that you don’t recognize.

“Choi Beomgyu, you can’t keep running from us anym—”

The guy cuts himself off, eyes wide at the recognition that you are not his person of interest. You don’t recognize him, but he seems to recognize you, confirmed by how he coughs up your name with so much weariness that it almost feels like he’s wronged you somehow.

“Yes?” you say, brow raised. He gulps. Who is this man, how does he know you, and why is he scared of you?

“Oh, uh— Yeonjun told us Beomgyu would be here…?”

“He’s not,” you reply, crossing your arms and tilting your body to the doorframe, just to give your friend some extra coverage. “But I can send the message. What do you want from him?”

You’re very aware of the amount of attitude you’re expelling right now. “W—well, you know the autumn festival is next month, right?”

“Get to the point.”

He flinches out a nod. “I, uh, I came here to try and convince your boyfriend to join the Battle of the Bands competition for the festival. The ICT department still needs some vacant slots to fill, so...do you think...you can maybe…?”

Ah. Right. There’s that thing. The festival. Your seniors have been sending messages in the group chat about it and Heeseung did mention that off-handedly at one point. They scouted him for your department’s band, too, but he’s still on the fence about it because of the competition deadline they’re trying to catch. That doesn’t answer why Choi Beomgyu is currently hiding under the table though. “Who are you again?” you ask in an attempt to get some hints. This question sends the guy frozen and standing perfectly upright.

“S—sorry, I’m Choi Soobin,” he introduces. “I’m Beomgyu’s senior from the department.”

Your face stiffens. Well, god damn, you’ve just been totally rude to a senior. You clear your throat, brushing your embarrassment aside by inhaling a sharp breath. “I’ll see what I can do,” you simply say before shutting the door. Once the lock clicks, you immediately taunt Beomgyu out of his hiding spot. “You piece of shit, you could’ve at least told me I needed to be respectful!”

“Wow. You’re so brave for talking to someone older than you like that.” He snickers, shuffling out from under the table before grinning at you, now standing at full height. “Your temper has mellowed out lately. I forgot that you’re inherently Satan’s underling whose default setting is to be mean and cranky.”

“Shut it,” you roll your eyes, moving back over to the door to take a peek if Choi Soobin had already left the premises. He has. The hallway is more or less empty. You turn your head back, looking over your shoulder at Beomgyu, who has his hands in his pockets, face scrunched in a yawn. You can’t help but notice the bags underneath his eyes, the gaunt paleness of his skin. A sinking feeling hits you. “C’mon. All your clubmates have left. Let’s get you photosynthesized, fuckface.”

The both of you trek the relatively barren path from the ICT building to the courtyard, planning to circle all the way back because god knows when was the last time this guy had been able to do some exercise. Pace slow, you cock your head to eye Beomgyu. He’s silently sipping on the coffee you got him, the mid-autumn leaves crunching underneath the soles of his feet as more cascade down from the trees lining your path. When your gaze shifts up, Choi Beomgyu still looks as tired as ever underneath the sun. You frown, biting on the straw of your own drink. 

“Why didn’t you want to join the band thing, by the way? You usually say yes to these things.”

Beomgyu looks over at you. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you start. “Last sem’s E-Sports Fest. The conference thing. Not to mention all throughout highschool, you’d never miss the opportunity to be the center of attention. I’m just a little surprised.”

He lets out a hum. “Well, my priorities have changed.” Beomgyu reaches out for the top of your head with his free hand, plucking out a stray orange leaf from one of the trees above before flicking it away. “I’m already busy with the game dev contest as is. I’d rather focus my time on the important things.”

“Wow. So mature. I’m gonna tell your mom her son is all grown up.” All he does is roll his eyes at you. You laugh.

Despite that conviction of his, however, Choi Beomgyu is pretty quick to change his mind.

The next day, you’re back at the clubroom again with another set of coffee orders. It looks a lot more livable than yesterday. You call out their orders one-by-one, “Heeseung, iced mocha,” and they come up to the table to snatch it from your hands.

“Thanks, dear friend of mine,” Heeseung says, tipping your service with a firm smack on the back.

“I spit in your drink,” you retort back. He ignores your threat and saunters over to his spot next to Beomgyu, who’s busy doing god knows what with the computer, aggressive keyboard noises filling the room. You have no idea what he’s doing, nor do you try to find out. The most help you can offer to these losers is being their coffee intern.

When you finish handing all of them their drinks, ready to disappear and head off to your own business for the day, Hyunjin’s voice perks up your ears. He announces something to the entire club, eyes glued to his phone like he’d just read something very interesting. “Hey,” he starts. “Apparently Jang Seung is the drummer for the econ department’s band. You know. For the festival next month.”

They all stop doing whatever they’re doing— all heads pivoting to Beomgyu’s corner, who has now stopped typing on the keyboard. 

Beomgyu promptly gets up. He marches over to the couch, near where you’re at, and fishes for his phone from the scattered bags on the cushion. “What are you doing?” asks Yeonjun. “I thought you won’t stop coding until nature starts calling the need for you to piss.” Beomgyu simply waves him off, successfully retrieving his phone. You watch as he taps and scrolls and taps and puts the device up to his ear. 

Everyone is looking at him. There’s a moment of silence before he finally says, “Hyung,” into the phone. You eye him curiously. He meets your gaze— a flicker of a second— before turning his head just a centimeter away. “You still haven’t found a singer and guitarist yet, have you?”

Your eyes widen. Holy shit.

“Cool. I’ll see you later.”

Beomgyu throws his phone back onto the pile. “You’ll be in the band?” you manage to quickly get in before he scuttles off into his station again.

He turns to you. A smile. “Yeah?” he says. “You’re gonna cheer for me again, right?”

“But I thought you said you didn’t want to—” you stop yourself. “Nevermind. I will cheer for you as long as I don’t have to wear an ugly tangerine cosplay again. Why do your department colors have to be orange?”

He laughs. “Wear whatever you want.”

The news finally settles into the rest of the club. “Oh my god. Oh my god, holy shit, fuck, wait— I’ll prepare the posters—” Heeseung frazzles. The rest of the idiots start freaking out too. Jeongin says he’s going to design a lightstick. Jesus christ. Beomgyu’s fanclub has greatly diminished since, well, the issue, but you’re amused to see that his biggest fanboys are still standing strong. You bid the coding club farewell as they prepare for their fanchants on top of having a deadline to catch. 

This changing of his mind just made seeing your friend’s face throughout the following weeks a lot more difficult. He gets home late almost everyday, sometimes not even coming home at all. You know this when there’s no invader unlocking your door and sauntering into your home at 11 p.m. just to complain about how tired he is. But he still texts you often. Too often, and he gets cranky when you don’t text him back even though all he sent is just a photo of his forehead with a sad face emoji, and you’re in the middle of taking notes for a class, and he gives you a call not long after to complain about his grievances out loud.

“Are you ignoring me?” You hear him huff over the phone. You’re on the way to leave campus now. Usually, you’d hitch a ride with Choi Beomgyu, but he’s been occupied lately, so it’s the bus for you today. The sun is setting. The moment you walk past the gates, there’s already a bus waiting for you.

“Cut to the chase,” you gripe, hopping onto the vehicle. “What do you want?

“Free up your schedule tonight,” he demands. Wow. Does he think you’re a pushover? “Band practice is finishing up early because of the Lantern Festival downtown. Let’s go check out the night market.”

“Sure,” you say. “If you’re late again, you have to pay for the equivalent of my wasted time.”

“I won’t be late! I promise, I’m gonna rush out as soon as—”

“Yeah, whatever,” you laugh. “See you later.”

Funny guy. Despite his packed schedule, he still manages to squeeze in some time to hang out with you. Whether it’s by knocking at your door at two in the morning for a sudden drive, or this. On holidays and special occasions. The Lantern Festival is celebrated annually in the city, matching the schedule of your own university’s autumn fest. It’s now early-mid November. You freshened up at your apartment before heading back out once the sun had fully set, waiting under the streams of brightly lit posts downtown. 

You look at Beomgyu’s last text saying that they’re finishing up and he’s gonna head out in a bit. That was twenty minutes ago. You begin counting his debt as you walk down the lantered streets lining the path towards Gwanghwamun Night Market, a thousand won every minute he’s late. There are countless stalls and pop-up bars, pitched up tents selling souvenirs and food and trinkets. There’s a lot of things to keep you busy while you wait for him.

Your eyes catch one particular stand upon closing into the area. On the table and display at the far end of the tent are countless second hand, vintage digicams for cheap. You walk up to it, fiddling with the displays before asking the store owner for his recommendations. He hands you a silver, retro looking camera, the Canon logo stamped on it, with its price tag dangling behind. It’s pretty affordable. You make the purchase, carefully storing it inside your tote bag just in time for your phone to buzz. 

A text from Choi Beomgyu. You whip your head around and stop the moment you see him looking lost amidst the crowded square, brows furrowed as he tries and fails to find you. You feel a laugh bubbling. You respond to his text. [eyes ahead, doofus] He follows your instructions, face brightening the moment he sees you. Beomgyu then quickly jogs up to your spot, a little sweaty and breathless and quite frankly disheveled. “Hey!” he calls out. “Sorry, there was traffic and I had to run away from my bandmates. They wanted to have dinner together, and, uh—”

“Thirty minutes.”

Your flat tone causes him to flinch. He presses his lips together, guilty. 

“I waited for thirty minutes,” you tell him. “You owe me thirty thousand won.”

Beomgyu lets out a grunt and an apology and starts towing you away. “Fine,” he whines. “Let’s eat first. I’m starving.” You let him drag you to the lines and lines of street food stalls, quickly finding something to settle your appetite, and before you know it, he’s scammed you into filling his 30k quota on nothing but snacks.

You realize this just as you and he are standing in front of a stall, sticks of fishcakes in hand and you’ve already half chewn yours. “Cheater!” you exclaim the moment it hits you. “You made me use up all your debt in less than an hour!”

He mocks you with a close-mouthed smile, cheeks still filled with fishcakes and he waves his stick at you, taunting.“Cry about it,” he muses. You roll your eyes. “Why? Did you want me to buy you something? I might consider it if you say it nicely.”

The sounds of nighttime festivities fill your ears. It’s very bright for eight in the evening. You buy another two sticks from the vendor. “Yeah. I do,” you reply, handing one of the sticks to Beomgyu. He takes it and starts nibbling. “I wanted you to buy me a turntable.”

And then he coughs on the fishcake. “The fuck?” he leers at you. You cackle and enjoy your own food without choking on it. “That’s— five times more than thirty fucking thousand won. You don’t even own any records? Wait, where did this even come from, you’ve never been interested in this kind of stuff, what the he—”

“I was joking, doofus,” you roll your eyes, but your lips remain smiling. Smiling because he looks so appalled, it’s funny. He doesn’t share your sentiment— the corners of his mouth downturned into a frown with knitted brows, and you snort at his expression. You throw away the empty sticks, ask the vendor how much you both owe, pay the equivalent, and your eyes wander off to the sound of chatting and laughing passing you by, groups of people funneling into the direction of the stream nearby. “Hey,” you tap on Beomgyu’s arm, before taking the liberty to grab a fistful of his sleeve, tugging him closer. “Let’s go check out what’s going on.“

Beomgyu allows himself to be dragged along by you without much protest into the shuffling crowd. You manage to squeeze into a gap, not even being able to turn your head and check on him when the pace of the crowd pushes you forward, moving further away from the bright and warm stringed lights of the night market, now into a dimmer portion of the area that greets your cheeks with cold brushes of the wind.

The crowd fizzles out near the ledge overhanging the stream, allowing you to patter your steps across the pavement, running up to get a better view of what’s underneath with Beomgyu’s still in tow. On the water, you see a line of intricate floats slowly making their way downstream. Historical arches and buildings, dragons and folklore. You can even see a Doraemon float way back in the line if you squint and the air is knocked out of your lungs, from sheer awe and amazement. It’s so pretty. What catches your attention more is further down, there are people releasing their own orbs of light into the water, and some letting the lanterns loose into the sky. 

“Whoa,” you breathe out. “That’s so cool.”

You feel a nudge on your shoulder. You turn to see Beomgyu, engulfed in the cold evening light, and he cocks his head back into the direction of the market. There you see a tent filled with similar looking lanterns that everyone else was releasing, not too far away with people queuing up in rows. Your head snaps back to Beomgyu, eyes sparkling. He huffs out a smile and leads you to the tent, getting in line to have your own.

“Please wait for any available spots by the table to write your wishes down.”

“Thank you,” you smile at the stall attendant, a paper lotus lantern in hand with Beomgyu right next to you, and you take a spot on the table the moment it becomes vacant. 

It doesn’t take you long to ponder your wish. Good health. A fucking boyfriend. The works. Not that you’re superstitious, but it’s a cute idea. You peer over at Beomgyu, who’s still holding an unopened marker with a thoughtful expression. His brows are furrowed, lips pursed, and all of a sudden, he snaps down and quickly scribbles something you can’t see. Wow. He’s serious about this, you laugh a little. “Are you done?” He jolts, a little surprised before looking up at you.

“Oh, yeah.” Beomgyu sets down the marker, picking up the lantern from the table. “Are you?”

The both of you get off to get your lanterns lit up, and the once pink-tinted paper now burns a warm orange in your hands, toasting up your palms in spite of the cold weather. You head off back to the stream, all the way underneath the overhanging bridge to its shore. Carefully, you crouch down near the water, Beomgyu following your lead, and you look at him, the contours of his face tempered by an almost sunset-like glow amidst the frigid glimmer of the moon all around you.

“Do we just...drop them here?” he asks. You blink. You turn your head to the surface of the shimmering stream as it waits for your burning offering.

“I—I guess so,” you cough out. “Should we count?”

“You’re so lame,” he laughs. You glare at him. “Sure. On three. One—”

“Two.”

“Three.”

The lanterns escape from your grasps at the same time, pulled away from you by the current and the breeze. You watch as the two orange orbs slowly float away above the water, bumping into each other, drifting away from each other for a mere moment before colliding again, and remaining at that same proximity as they both follow the same current, pushed by the same breeze. 

You look at Beomgyu, who watches the two lanterns until they fully escape your line of sight. 

“What did you wish for?” you ask. 

His gaze shifts over to you. It’s heavy. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

“You can’t just ask those kinds of questions,” he jeers, bringing up a hand to your retreating face just to punch your nose. “That’s gonna nullify my wish. Stop trying to sabotage me.”

“I’m not! I was just curious!” You swat his hand away, annoyed. You two are still crouching by the stream, hands resting on your knees. There’s a lot of people around you too, also indulging in the festival tradition. At this point, your lanterns have been completely swallowed by the multitude of other glowing lotuses on the water. You’re pretty sure that the government is just gonna clean it all up come morning and throw them into the dump. So much for lantern wishes. Whimsy destroyed. Romanticism ruined.

Before your nihilism can completely take over, Beomgyu starts speaking again. “The game deadline is nearing,” he suddenly starts. “And the uni autumn festival is like, next week.” For some reason, you can hear a sigh in his voice. Poor idiot. He must be so tired. “I seriously can’t wait for everything to be over. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t even been able to drive you home lately.”

You stare at the water. You feel a knot in your throat which you cough out, bumping your shoulder against his before your arms stretch out, fingers locking and elbows hitting your knees to release the tension in your muscles. “I can get home by myself, you know,” you tell him, allowing your hands to hang languidly in the air.

“I know,” he says, reaching out for your pinky finger, a jolt of warmth running down your spine as he plays around with the contours of the joint, tracing down to the tip of the finger when he continues, “It’s getting colder. We should go.”

Beomgyu pulls you up with him when he stands, fully enclosing his hand with yours.

He drives the both of you home that night. First time in a while, and the last time in an even longer while because he gets even busier. Band practice. Club meetings. Game dev contest on top of your also staggering amount of coursework. Most of your time is spent with Minjeong and Sungchan because Heeseung has also been swallowed by work. Poor pathetic guy number two. He deserves all of his misery.

It’s a weekday, and you’re at the library with Minjeong and Hanbin this time. He’s been liberated from coding duty because he has an exam tomorrow. These two have just been formally acquainted with each other, as far as you know, but while taking a bathroom break with Minjeong for a brief moment, she suddenly tells you, “I like him better than Beomgyu.”

You cock a brow at her through the mirror, shaking your wet hands over the sink. “Hanbin? What’s the point of comparison here?”

“Yeah,” she answers, retouching her lip gloss. “He doesn’t make fun of you and he’s less annoying. You should date him instead.”

A laugh leaves your lips. You walk over to dry your hands and once the restroom is relieved from the echoing whirs of the drying machine, you quip back. “Hanbin is nice, but he’s not my type. Just because I want to date doesn’t mean I’m just gonna try it with every decent guy I know,” you nag as you walk out the restroom and back into the library. “And I think he has eyes on someone else. And quit hating on Beomgyu. He annoys everyone he likes. If you think he’s annoying then you’ve fallen into his trap. Congratulations, you and he are friends.”

On the way back to your table, you notice a group of students eyeing you. While passing, you hear one of them whisper. But it’s too loud of a whisper. Like you were meant to hear it.

“I can’t believe she still has the guts to show her face on campus.”

Minjeong stops in her tracks. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Leave it be,” you sigh, tugging your friend away before she starts a cat fight in the library premises. Yeah. You’ve already been branded as a cheating whore. Maybe you should just give up dating altogether.

“Why do you keep letting these fuckers talk shit about you?! Let me at ‘em—”

It’s less of you being a pushover and more of you not wanting to waste energy, really. You’ve gone through this bullcrap in high school (though at a lighter degree). People believe what they want to believe and it doesn’t matter what you tell them. So, why bother. You have a group of nerds plus Minjeong and Sungchan behind your back, anyway. And of course, Choi Beomgyu, who got into a fight with his friends (former friends, he insists) that were involved with the anonymous post issue. The funny thing is, they all apologized to him with their foreheads scraping the ground not even a day after the event, but none of them even bothered trying to receive your forgiveness— until Beomgyu pointed it out and they eventually, reluctantly, came to your feet to mumble out incoherent sorrys.

It’s whatever. The post got taken down, but you still hear some snide remarks here and there like just now. Again, it’s whatever. It’s not gonna stop you from enjoying your uni life. Which is why you’re here, right now, at the uni autumn festival with a trove of nerds who are all arguably vitamin D deficient, all carrying banners and flags with Choi Beomgyu’s name in one way or another, waiting for the Battle of the Bands to start at the campus courtyard.

“Put this on!” Hyunjin shoves a bright, orange bandana into your hands with bold, white text text BAMTORIS 4 BEOMGYU on it. They came up with a fucking fanclub name. Your head rings. The bandana wrinkles in your hand as you shove it into your coat pocket, never to see the light of day.

“Hey, it’s starting!”

The large, heavy speakers boom through the crowd. Indeed, it is starting, and you already can’t wait to go home. But you persist. You’re going home after Choi Beomgyu’s stage. His text said they’ll be performing fourth, after the economics department. You can handle that much noise and chaos. Your social energy needs to last, else you’d have to coax a sulking dog tomorrow for ditching him. The host screams a welcoming spiel into the mic, and everyone else starts screaming. You wince. Yeah, you can deal with this.

When the performances started, you were actually able to vibe a little with the music. Having Heeseung shaking you around and screaming lyrics into your ear does help a bit. When the third band comes up however, you feel the mood around you shift. The coding club boys are so much louder now. No, they’re not cheering. They’re hell bent on sending an overpowering amount of boos and jeers at Jang Seung the moment he got up on stage.

The guy was so flustered at the non-cheers that he was offbeat for half the song. You’re thoroughly enjoying this. Heeseing continues yelling different iterations of, “Get off the stage! You suck!” until Jang Seung finally does with his bandmates drilling dirty looks at him. You laugh. Absolutely deserved.

The boys’ jeers shift again the moment the host calls out the ICT department onstage. They start cheering. Very loudly. Ferally, almost. You see Beomgyu walk his way into the center, electric guitar hanging from his neck as the lights focus on him. You hear nothing but yelling. Jesus fucking christ. It’s an assault at all fronts with Heeseung, Yeonjun, Jeongin, and Hyunjin surrounding you. Maybe...maybe you shouldn’t have joined these damned nerds.

It hushes down when Beomgyu grabs the mic to give an introduction of the band. Heeseung is still screeching, though. You grow concerned.

“Anyway, sing and dance along if you know the lyrics.”

Beomgyu’s hands grip the microphone as you hear his voice continue through the speakers, staring down at the crowd as if he’s looking for something. Then his eyes land on you. You’re taken aback for a moment. Just a moment, because you manage a smile. Good luck, you mouth, hands cupping your lips. 

He smiles back. “This song— is you.”

The instrumental is familiar. A guitar sings. Drum beats crash. You’ve heard this numerous times from Beomgyu’s playlist before. In his car. Along the streets. On the floor of his apartment at three in the morning after he called you out to do nothing in particular until you fall asleep on the couch. Then his voice resonates in the night, carried by the still familiar melody and you feel your heart thump along with the bass vibrating from the speakers. 

Time and time again, Choi Beomgyu proves to you that he’s always meant for the spotlight. He belongs there, to receive all the attention and adoration of everyone that catches sight of him. Seeing him up there brings an unconscious smile on your face. That is until you feel Heeseung shove his shoulder against you, prying your attention away from the blinding stage lights to the dim glow of your friend’s lightstick. “Hey, lovergirl,” he says, grinning widely. “He says he’s nothing without you.”

“Fuck off,” you roll your eyes, cheeks stretched by a flurry of heat. “It’s just a song.”

It’s over before you know it. You were able to snag a few shots of your friend at the near end there as per his request for his Instagram feed, but your plan to run away after their performance is ruined because the boys have decided to hold you hostage because, “There’s no way you’re missing tonight’s celebration!” as if the winners have already been announced. There’s like three bands left. Tonight, you suffer.

Still, your waiting and leg aches for standing too long aren’t wasted because when the winners are indeed announced, the ICT department are called as the victors, and the rest of the night is a blur of hoots and yells and many, many bars and clubs all throughout the city. 

Unfortunately for you, this is only the start of your series of night outs leading up to the end of the year. 

After finals, Sungchan dragged you and Minjeong out for another night out to celebrate. When TXT Inc. announced the winners for their game development competition not long after, you’re dragged to another night out since the boys managed to scrape by 3rd place and save their club from the threat of administrative shut-down.

You’re exhausted. Absolutely drained. You sleep the entire car ride home to Daegu with Beomgyu, recharging just enough for the joint Christmas eve dinner with your family and his. Your friend manages to notice your pitiful state and saves you from conversations by answering questions from the parents on your behalf over the meal.

“Ah, I heard from our daughter that you performed at your festival last month? Oh, how was it? You used to sing and dance during our village Christmas parties all the time when you were still in elementary school.”

“He was trying so hard to look cool, dad.” Regardless of your exhaustion, your system always has enough energy to jump at the opportunity to make fun of him. 

Beomgyu glares at you from across the table, and you feel a kick from underneath. “I was cool. We won, if you forgot. Just so you know, I only joined to put that Jang Seung back in his—” You kick him back. Beomgyu jolts, eyes widen. Oops, he sends you an apologetic look. You send him a silent warning in return.

“Who’s Jang Seung?” his mother asks, curious.

“Some annoying guy from our department. He likes to think he’s cooler than me and I needed to give him a reminder,” Beomyu responds. You release a silent sigh and sip on your drink. “Which I am. Proven by my victory during the competition.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.”

“Auntie! She’s being mean again!”

By the time you reach your apartment building, the clock at around eleven at night, you are barely alive. The rest are walking ahead of you. You are but a bamboo stick getting brushed along by the wind and Choi Beomgyu’s stops you from falling face flat into the floor because you bump into him.

“Idiot,” he scolds, balancing you by the shoulders. “C’mon. Let’s go. I’ll be your navigator up the stairs, you withering stick of bamboo.”

“Wait,” you protest (verbally, because you have no strength left in your body and could not physically stand your ground). Beomgyu eyes you, halting from bodying you all the way up the apartment. You look over his shoulder to yell at your parents up ahead. “You go in first! I’m gonna talk to Beomgyu for a sec!”

“It’s late,” your mom narrows her eyes at you. “Can’t you two talk tomorrow?”

“It’s—it’s important,” you stammer. You look at Beomgyu. He raises a brow, confused and suspicious.

You step on his foot. He gapes his mouth and lets out a silent swear. You make a face. He makes a face back before letting out a defeated grunt, spinning his heels to confirm your initial sentiments. “We won’t be long. Mom, you can toss the keys to me. I’ll lock up.”

Not long after, you and Choi Beomgyu are left alone at the foot of your apartment building. He stuffs his apartment keys into his pockets, swirling around to look at you with a face stoned by disapproval. “What is it?” he gnaws. “You’re about to pass out any second. What could be more important than getting some sleep right now?”

You ignore his nagging. “Come to the playground with me,” is your unrelated response. His face jitters— disapproval churning into a shock of anxiety, but he attempts to brush it off.

“You’re not gonna ask me to do something along the lines of pretending like we don’t know each other, righ—”

“No! Fuck off! I’ll go alone if you don’t want to.”

“I’m coming,” he sternly says, trailing behind your heated steps to a corner of the apartment square, on the way to the playground at the back of the building. “At least tell me what you want to talk about first.”

“It’s—it’s nothing bad.”

“You’re being suspicious.”

“I’m not!”

Your foot stomps over the dirt of the playground, pressing your lips together as you scramble out your phone to check the time. 11:13 p.m. Dammit. Your coat pocket feels heavy, the thing inside snuggled deep and concealed. How do you distract him for forty-seven more minutes? He’s already yawning. Your eyes flicker around— the spring riders catching your attention first. “Come here,” you say stiffly, just as mechanically hopping onto what you assume is a duck on the spring. 

Beomgyu is evidently weirded out by you, but he follows you anyway, unquestioning whenever you lead him from one equipment and ride in the playground to the next— the swings, spinners, monkey bars, tubes, slides, even the fucking climbers that probably can’t handle your weight. It’s not the most appropriate age and weather to be doing this, but you needed something to kill the time.

The only thing left untouched are the seesaws. It’s 11:55. God damn it. You’ve been willfully avoiding this contraption in case it reawakens your moment of shame and weakness, but having been caught in the pattern you’ve started, Beomgyu is already plopping down on one of the ends.

You bite your tongue. You follow and take your spot on the other end, quiet. The both of you see and saw in silence, most likely carrying the same thing in your minds.

The moment your feet hit the ground again, you stay there. You flip open your phone. Three more minutes. Beomgyu springs you up in the air. You’re brought back down.

“Whatever you’re planning on saying—” he starts, from above. “Don’t say it.”

“It’s not what you think!” you argue. Two more minutes. “Stop moving. Hold on a sec.”

You and Beomgyu are on both ends, both on the ground. One more minute. He eyes you suspiciously, maybe even nervously and you don’t blame him. You dig into your coat pocket, feeling the crumple of the smooth fabric of the pouch you pocketed before leaving for dinner earlier, the item hard in your hand.

“Choi Beomgyu, you’ve been working hard all semester.” Your phone alarm rings. Fucking finally. You pull the pouch out of your pocket. “I thought maybe you deserve a treat.”

You toss it at him. He lets go of the seesaw handle to catch it.

“Merry Christmas, fuckface.”

The pouch lands in his hands. He just stares at it for a moment, eyes wide in surprise and your heart rattles. Why are you nervous right now? You begin to palpitate even further when he actually pulls the strings open, revealing the vintage digicam you bought during the lantern festival. From the moment you saw the stall, you knew the sentimental idiot would like one of these. It’s been waiting in your drawer for this occasion. You start to feel even more self conscious every second he takes to examine it.

“I—I know it’s a bit cheap,” you stammer. “But I already spent so much money on your birthday gift, so don’t you even dare—”

Click!

You look up to see the camera in front of Beomgyu’s face. You blink. He puts it down, tinkering with the buttons with a smile on his face. “I like it,” he says, flashing his eyes at you. “It’s pretty.”

Without a second to waste, you jump off the fucking seesaw and Choi Beomgyu’s ass lands on the ground. “Hey, delete that!”

“Nuh-uh! No way!” he fends you off, swatting away your hands as you straddle him on the dirt ground. “You gave it to me so this is mine! I can do whatever I want with it!”

“My portrait rights! You’re violating the law!”

“Ow! That hu— owww! Fine! Okay, fine—”

It’s Christmas, and the both of you are on the dusty ground of your apartment complex’s playground, a little breathless from squabbling. Beomgyu has one forearm shielding himself from your attacks, the other keeping the camera safe to his chest.

“I’ll delete it! I’ll delete it on one condition.”

You slump back, already tired. “What?” you wheeze. 

He grunts and picks himself up, dusting his clothes and you follow not long after once you’ve caught your breath. “Come to my place for a sec.”

This time, you’re the one eyeing him with suspicion. Still, he humored you tonight, so you shall humor him too. You follow him into the building, up the flights of stairs until you reach your floor. Beomgyu grumbles out a few swears under his breath as he puts more effort than necessary to unlock the door to his place. “Need a little help doing simple movements there, buddy?”

“Shut your mouth,” he grunts, finally managing to unlock it. 

Their festive living room greets you upon entry. The rug is different from what you remember. The curtains shielding the interior from the moonlight have gingerbreads and snowmen on them. Beomgyu leads you up to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, painted with tinsel and ornaments and stars. He sits down on the carpet, patting on the spot next to him without looking at you and you gingerly cross your legs down. He digs into the mix of real and fake gift boxes for decoration. You know because some have names, some are blank.

“I didn’t expect you to throw me a gift right at midnight. That was an unprompted attack.” He finally leans back with a pretty big box in hand, setting it down on the floor right in front of you. “Still. I refuse to lose. Here.”

There’s a name on it. Yours. From your pretty and handsome and amazing most favorite person, Choi Beomgyu. You snort.

“Open it,” he nudges.

“Now?”

“Duh.”

He’s annoying, but you let him off. Carefully, you unwrap the ribbon, a pang of nervous anticipation hitting your bones as your hands hover over the box lid. 

You open the present.

You see the gift.

Your hands instinctively jerk back down to fucking close it.

“Choi Beomgyu! I said it was a joke! Why would you—” you hiss out, a quiet scream as you throw your head around to look at him, only for the words to fizzle out your throat upon seeing the expectant look on his face. His eyes are big and sparkly and looking at you with so much expectation. Your face grows hot, the burn even more palpable amidst the December weather, and you suck in a deep breath, looking down in acceptance and defeat. “A fucking turntable. You’re insane. Why would you get me this? You said it yourself that I don’t even own any records or LPs or whatever you use for this. What’s wrong with you?”

“You said you wanted one.” He’s grinning. He’s grinning very proudly. “Merry Christmas, dipshit. Now, we’re even.”

Ah. God damn it. He really is insane.

“He got you a what?”

Within the last week of December, you and Beomgyu return back to Seoul. There’s some crap to do at uni regarding your scheduling and classes, and Jung Sungchan is throwing yet another party to celebrate the incoming new year. Not at his parent’s place this time because he got an earful after the previous party. He’s hosting it in his apartment, so the invitation list is smaller. More bearable, because you and Minjeong are forced to attend again. 

“Girl, you don’t even own any records.” Minejeong’s head pops up from the other side of the clothes rack, looking both appalled and amazed from the information she’d just received from you. “Have you even used it yet?”

“No!” you remark in response. “The thing has been catching dust in my apartment and I’m starting to feel bad. Is it okay if we stop by a record store after this?”

Which is why you and she are out shopping right now to buy a cute new year’s outfit to match Sungchan’s black and gold party theme. You don’t understand why he has to have a theme, but it’s a good excuse to treat yourself to some new clothes. You and your friend have been thrifting and boutique hopping, spending a good chunk of your holiday money for a one-day millionaire spree. 

A few shopping bags in hand, a bell jangles when you push open the door to a vintage record store you saw in passing earlier, in between thrift stores. The scent of rubber, dusty wood, and pressed vinyl hit your senses, along with the dull hum of music from the store’s speakers from the background. You walk in with no plan on what the fuck you should buy, so needless to say you are overwhelmed by the gigantic selection on display.

“Hey, how may I help you?”

The singular employee present in the store has probably noticed your swirling eyeballs trying to take in everything. “Oh, I’m just looking around,” you say with a smile. The store clerk smiles back, telling you to feel free to browse, and you thank him. He’s tall, presumably college-aged with sandy hair, and your mind wanders around the idea that it would be nice to find another part-time job for extra allowance. But your break is almost over. And you’d have to look for somewhere else because it won’t be a great idea to work at Horangnabi again and deal with the rest of the studentry considering your current, uh, reputation.

But you’re not here to dwell on that. You’re here to finally put Choi Beomgyu’s fucking gift to good use. Minjeong stays by the door with her phone while you walk further into the store with the clerk trailing behind you. As you run your hands over a few familiar covers, familiar names and titles, he shoots you a few questions here and there— are you looking for a specific artist? What kind of music do you like? I can give you some recommendations if you’d like? Clearly, there’s something more than customer service going on here. 

As you check out a selection of two records (because holy shit, these are expensive), it dawns on you that it’s almost the end of the year, and you still have yet to find a god damned boyfriend. Granted, you don’t believe doing so will help salvage your image in any way at all, but it kind of sucks to think that you’ll be spending another new year single and lonely.

“Come again any time.”

Well, maybe not too lonely because you won’t have time to think about any nihilistic bullshit at Jung Sungchan’s party. Minjeong scolds you as you walk out the store with a new paper bag and no new number in your contacts. “He was clearly trying to hit on you,��� she says.

“He’s not my type,” you deflect back. She clicks her tongue and nags you that every shot you don’t take is a miss, and you simply brush her off with a laugh. But she has a point. Maybe you’re the reason why you’ve been single this entire time. Perhaps the universal false assumption that you and Choi Beomgyu have been dating for the past one-hundred years has nothing to do with it.

Lee Heeseung agrees with this new speculation of yours. “You’re too prickly,” he says over brunch at a local bed-and-breakfast. You and Minjeong meet up with him right after your shopping spree because he just happened to be in the area. “And a little scary. Everyone from the club used to be afraid of you at first because you’re so mean.”

“You nerds are just losers,” Minjeong defends you. 

“Wow. Two bullets in one shot,” you say in between enjoying your bacon, fried rice, and eggs.

“Hey, you have no right to say anything. You’re single too.” Heeseung points his fork at her. “It can’t be helped. This is unsalvageable. It seems like I must share this secret trick I found on TikTok to solve all of your problems.” 

“That source sounds very credible,” you snort.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Heeseung proceeds to explain the secret trick: eat twelve grapes under the table within the minutes passing into the new year, and your wish will be granted. You nearly cough out your brunch. Minjeong bursts out laughing right next to you. You can’t even begin to imagine how Heeseung managed to land himself into that side of the app.

“Incredible,” she chortles out. “What do you plan on wishing for, Hee? For you to get back together with—”

“No!” he screeches out. “No way. That era of my life is over now. I’m gonna get accepted at HYBE Inc. for my fucking internship.”

“Wow,” you gape, taking a sip from your iced tea. “You’re maturing.”

“Right? This is crazy.”

Heeseung’s outburst melts down, and the redness slowly starts seeping out from his cheeks. He looks at you, a little proud and rubs a finger under his nose with a grin. “Heh. It’s nothing.”

“You’ve got some rice on your face, Mr. Maturity.” You hear an ‘oh shit,’ from across the table as you look down to your lit up phone from a message notification coming in. Your eyes narrow, letting your utensils clatter on your plate to make a few taps on the phone screen. “You asked Beomgyu to come?” you ask, looking back up at Heeseung. “Why is the idiot telling me he’s on the way here?”

Specifically, it was a shot of him from the eyes up and a bus ceiling with [omw 2 u 🛵🛵] plastered on his forehead. “Oh, he’s coming?” Heeseung responds, unsurprised. “He asked if I wanted to hit the PC room with him. I told him I’m still with you two and sent him my location.”

“Ah, fuck me. Now I have to change seats.” You watch in slight confusion as Minjeong pushes her food over to Heeseung’s side of the table before following suit, leaving the space next to you cold and barren and empty, and your look of confusion muddles into betrayal. “Hey, don’t give me that look. Beomgyu always follows you around like a puppy with severe attachment issues and I don’t really want to be caught in between the both of you.”

“He does not!” you defend, your fist bouncing on the table with a clatter, just in time for your eyes to flicker off to the direction of the restaurant door opening, welcoming a Choi Beomgyu, who’s whipping his head around to look for you three, inside.

“Hey, dude, over here!”

Unfortunately, he proves Minjeong correct. Beomgyu turns his head to you at the recognition of Heeseung’s voice, blank face shifting into an easy smile. His next set of movements are programmed right into his system: he walks up to you, he plops down right next you, and he dips his head down to take a long sip from your iced tea, right before releasing a refreshed lip-smack and sigh with his shit-eating grin, directed right at you. “Thanks for the treat.” His hand meets the top of your head, utterly ruining your hair. 

“Fuck off. No one even invited you here.” You wrestle him off with your elbow. Beomgyu retreats by letting his arm stretch behind your back, causing the cushion of the booth seats to sink down while he calls a waiter for the menu. You feel your throat dry. You reach for the ice tea Choi Beomgyu just drank a third of to rinse down the dryness. Minjeong’s eyes are on you. Heeseung is pressing his mouth together, and his face is pissing you off.

“Do you want me to find another table then? I see you’re almost done with your meals.” The bitch is trying to play victim. You give him a look of aversion. He’s unfazed, looking at Heeseung with a subtle quirk of his lips inching towards victory, because the latter took his bait.

“I’m ordering another meal,” Heeseung announces. “You. Sit. We’re hitting the PC room after this.”

“Sure thing.” All you can do is sigh while Beomgyu sticks his tongue out at you. “Quit grumbling,” he snarks. “And quit acting like you don’t want me around. Didn’t you say it yourself? Should I give you a refresher? Ahem, what makes you think I can’t live without—”

“Moving on!” 

Your face is now hot. Beomgyu is still grinning like a bastard, but he doesn’t finish the statement. You can still see the amusement on the corners of his lips even when he leans down to sip from your iced tea again. “I hate being here,” Minjeong breathes out, gulping down the last of her drink before slamming the glass down onto the table.

Beomgyu’s order arrives. “Why are you two so moody today?” He points a pair of chopsticks at Minjeong before stabbing them into his salad. “Did your shopping trip go badly or some shit?”

“For your information, our day was going great until you showed up,” you glare at him.

“Yeah,” Minjeong doubles down. Heeseung’s second meal also arrives. He ignores the squabbles and starts happily digging in. “Our shopping trip was great. You should see the dress she bought for the party. It’s really pretty.”

At that mention, Beomgyu’s head tilts, eyes flickering over to your direction. “Is it?” 

There’s something in the tone of his voice that forces you to swallow something down. “Mind your own business, buster,” you hiss at him. He shrugs and continues eating. “What the hell is Jung Sungchan thinking dress coding a college party, anyway? It’s not like he’d kick me out if I end up wearing bright green.”

“Is the dress you bought bright green?” Beomgyu chimes in. “Now I’m even more curious.”

You look at him, face scrunched up. “If you want to wear my dress, just say so.”

“Hey, I think I’d body it.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

Indeed, no one gets kicked out for wearing the wrong thing. The moment you walk into Jung Sungchan’s blasted apartment, you see red, pink, purple, maroon amidst the gold foil decorations and fuzzy warping lights. No, Choi Beomgyu did not show up in your dress. He’s in a beige wool blazer, white undershirt, and lazy black trousers with a beer can in hand, waiting for your arrival by the door. “Oh, hey.” You do not recall beige being in the goddamned dress code. At least his pants are black and his necklace is gold. “You’re here.”

“I wish I weren’t,” you grunt, wiggling out of your coat because although it’s currently the cold season, Sungchan’s apartment is humid. Though it’s significantly less people than his house party last summer, it’s still thirty people more than to your liking. You grimace, hanging the garment on your forearm. “Where is he? Where’s the host of this shithole?”

You point up your chin, looking around for Sungchan, but to no avail. Maybe he’s at the balcony, but your friend over here isn’t answering you.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” You whip your head back to Beomgyu. He hasn’t left, no. He’s just standing there, a faint buzz tinting his cheeks. You peer at the drink he’s holding. You click your tongue, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

Luckily, he isn’t fully checked out yet. He swats your hand away and clears his throat. “I think he’s on the balcony. C’mon.”

Sungchan greets you with a barreling hug and nearly bulldozes you into the floor because he’s a dramatic bastard who hasn’t seen you since finals week. “Now that you’re here, we can officially start the party!” he yells, as if it hadn’t already started, and drags your limp body back to the living room. Right now, it’s around ten in the evening. Minjeong clocks in not long after you and gets roped into the mess of drinking games happening on Sungchan’s carpeted floor, already a few rounds in.

In between all the yelling and the music and the chants to chug, chug, chug it, Heeseung stands up with a microphone in hand. You have no idea where he got that from, but he has it, and has decided that it would be a great idea to start singing your hearts out. 

“Sing or drink! Sing or drink!”

Yeah, no. You’re downing that fucking shot.

“Boo! You’re no fun!” Heeseung jeers at you. You toss him the now red solo cup with the droplets of whatever the fuck they mixed into that, gagging slightly. The microphone eventually gets snatched by a very drunk Yeonjun, who already got his necktie wrapped around his head. This is a big mess. Yeonjun gets his solo moment. He starts singing Through the Fire by Chaka Khan.

“Yeonjun hyung! Yeonjun hyung!”

“Hyung, why do you have to graduate?!”

“Hyung, I’ll miss you!”

You’re definitely not drunk enough for this. By eleven-thirty, you’re already fucking exhausted, so you ready to escape to the kitchen. A lot of people have left, the ones remaining consisting mostly of Sungchan’s close friends. Minjeong sees you escaping and runs after you. “Going down for a bit. I need some fresh fucking air.”

“Don’t die,” you hum, patting her out the door.

“You don’t die.” She nudges back at the directions of the living room, where the boys are gathered in a sudden emotional huddle. Choi Beomgyu included. The year’s coming to an end. Meaning a few of them are gonna be graduating from uni soon like Yeonjun. You swear you can hear someone wailing. “I don’t want to deal with that. Good luck. Hide safe, soldier.”

She salutes you off, marching out the door. You turn back to look at the mess of the apartment. Sungchan’s prettily hung gold foil have either been ripped off, their remnants tattered on the floor, or barely strewn. There’s still music playing, the bass thrumming through the walls. Cups and plastic and confetti and a few pairs of shoes are scattered all over the floor. You grimace and walk over a wet spot, heading over to the kitchen to help yourself with whatever wine’s still left over.

Pouring yourself a glass, you can’t help but notice what’s left on the moderately sized dining table. Jung Sungchan put an effort to drape it with a pretty sheet of fabric stitched with metallic gold, serving as a bed for the display of various round fruits at the center. A single melon. A bowl of oranges and kiwis beside the bed of green and red apples. You huff out a small laugh, teeth clinking against the rim of the wine glass. Even Jung Sungchan is a little superstitious. You’ve heard about the round fruits for good luck on new year’s before. It’s a miracle none of these were massacred. Save maybe for the half-eaten apple abandoned right by the sink.

Your eyes notice the package of untouched shine muscat grapes sitting soundly on the table, still covered in plastic wrap. You check the time on your phone. 11:45 p.m. Heeseung’s dumb voice echoes in your brain. Twelve grapes. Wishes. Good luck. Superstitions. God, this shit has been haunting you since November.

“Hyung! Promise me you’ll still visit the club even after you graduate, okay? Promise that you’ll—”

“Dude, you have to learn to let go! If you love someone, let them go!”

“No! I don’t want to let Yeonjun hyung go!”

Still. Just like the paper lanterns last month. Just like the damned alarm you have on your phone that rings every night when the clock strikes eleven-eleven, you find yourself falling for this bullshit again.

This is fine, right? No harm in humoring the teeniest-tiniest possibility that these affirmations will hold true? Before you know it, you have the grapes in your person, the tablecloth flung open for a glimpse of a second, and ten minutes before the new year, a singular thought runs laps inside the pitch darkness of your head in the form of the question— can you get any more fucking pathetic?

“What...what the hell are you doing?”

You wince, light leaking into your safe space under the dining table, at the same time as the intrusion of Choi Beomgyu’s voice. You look up at him. He has peeled back the tablecloth— your cover— and honestly you’re not even offended by the look of pure and absolute judgment littering his face right now. You’re judging yourself too for listening to Heeseung’s fucking stupid trick, crawling underneath the table at new year’s party for god’s sake, sitting on a dirty ass floor, a bowl of grapes on your lap, a glass of wine next to your folded up legs, and an expression not befitting the holiday spirit because you’re looking up at him like you want to die.

“I’m—I’m manifesting,” you say petulantly with a squeak, cheeks burning and refusing to explain any further for the sake of your shame and pride. It’s eleven-fifty. You hope he’d politely fuck off before midnight so you can do your business in peace.

Your eyes should be sending the message right now. Beomgyu continues to stare at you with a less than amused expression, a contemplative pause that you hope is a sign that he’s going to leave you alone. But, no. Your message does not come across because Beomgyu decides to plop down, cross-legged, right in front of you. 

“That doesn’t explain anything,” he says. Why can’t he just mind his own business? He should leave you and your grapes alone. “Sungchan’s looking for you and before I left the living room, he picked up a megaphone. Tell me what you’re scheming or else I’ll rat you out.”

“You, bitch!”

Eleven fifty-five. Shit. Choi Beomgyu doesn’t seem like he’s going to budge any time soon. His lips are pursed and he’s got the base of his palm holding up his chin. You bite down your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, taking in a sharp inhale before airing out your pathetic desperation in its rawest form.

“Like I said. I’m manifesting.”

His eyes narrow, brows furrowed. “Manifesting what exactly.”

“A fucking boyfriend.”

Whatever. Fuck it. He can make fun of you all he wants.

“Heeseung said if you eat twelve grapes from eleven fifty-nine to twelve o’one on new year’s, your wish will be granted. I—I—I looked it up because it sounded stupid, but—” You pause. You take a half a second glance at Beomgyu’s expression and decide that you are unable to look him in the eye. “Listen, Beomgyu, I’m desperate. I’m grasping at the straws here. I’m sick and tired of being single and misunderstood by all those damned fucking rumors and I know you’re nowhere near responsible, but I’m very annoyed right now, okay? So, if you’re just gonna make fun of me, please leave because there’s only, like three minutes left before twelve, and I really don’t want you deliberately ruining my chances this time, Choi Beomgyu.”

You breathe in. That. That took you an entire minute to say. Maybe you drank a little too much. Maybe you were rattling on like a maniac just now, but you can’t quite decipher Beomgyu’s reaction to your insanity. 

Is he judging you? Is he weirded out? Pitying you? Because you sure are pitying yourself right now, but you don’t fucking know because all he’s doing is looking at you dead in the eye, face unmoving, totally blank expression, and you gulp. What the hell is he getting at?

Two minutes left. You hear the premature hiss of fireworks outside. “Scoot over,” he finally says. “I can’t believe you’re doing something stupid by yourself and leaving me out.”

“Wh—what are you doing?!”

The tablecloth falls. Your vision is darkened. Choi Beomygyu is wedged right next to you underneath Sungchan’s dining table, on the dirty kitchen floor of his apartment, two minutes before the start of a new year. A new point in history. And here you are, with your friend of over twenty years who’s plucked a shiny green grape from the stem, rolling it between his fingers with an unsure look. “Twelve? We have to eat twelve of these?”

“You don’t have to do it if you’re just gonna make fun—”

Beomgyu pops the grape into his mouth. 

“How many minutes do we have again?”

You pause a little, staring into space before coughing out, “Th—three.” You put a handful of grapes into the cup of your palm to toss it all in there in one shot. It’s twelve fifty-fine. “Three minutes. Starting now.”

“Got it.”

Now, you can’t even begin to fathom the absurdity of this scene. You can hear the boys making a ruckus from the other room, yelling into the megaphone, counting down while you continue to shovel the fruit into your mouth. Eight. You have eight left. 

“Woohoo! Happy new year!”

Fireworks are bursting, music is blaring.

“Six! Five!”

Four. Four grapes left in your hands. The juice spurts into your mouth. You glance up at Beomgyu. His brows are knitted together, counting the remaining grapes he has to swallow down before the time is up. 

“Two!”

You seriously can’t believe you two are doing this. You’re about to choke, stuffing the remaining grapes into your cheeks and god forbid your obituary say that you died asphyxiating on round fruit on December 31, 11:59 p.m. Seriously. How did you get so pathetic? You swallow down the last bit of fruit while the rest of your friends are having fun outside. So single, so desperate, so pathetic. You’re never gonna eat another grape again.

“One!”

And the thought hits you 

“Happy new year!”

If you’re so single, so desperate, and so pathetic, then—

“Done!”

Beomgyu’s sudden voice causes you to jump and bump your head against the table. His eyes widen, and firm hands clasp your shoulders to pull you in. “Sorry, are you okay?” he sputters out, little panicked while one hand travels up to the top of your head— where he’d usually ruffle, tousle to ruin your hair and annoy you, but this time Beomgyu’s touch is gentle, checking to see if he’s caused any damage, while your face remains pushed down, eyes trained on the ground where your tight knuckles are pressed into. 

The fireworks haven’t stopped. There’s still a lot of noise outside, but Beomgyu’s soft voice manages to ripple through everything you hear. 

“Nothing hurts, right? You’re good?” 

He guides you to look at him, hands gingerly placed on the sides of your head, and you can feel his index fingers grazing the helix of your ears. You look at him. His former blank, judgemental stare softened with a concern that almost sounds like he’s carrying the weight of the whole universe on his shoulders, as if accidentally causing you to bump your head against the table would endanger the fate of the world.

You’re so single, so desperate, so pathetic, and also so, so stupid because why did you even waste your wishes on that paper lantern, those twelve grapes, and all the countless eleven-elevens these past months when the answer to your wish has been right in fucking front of you this entire time?

“At this point, we should just start dating.”

You gasp.

You cover your mouth, jolting up. Your voice was a little louder than you thought, and your heart sinks down into your stomach as you try to focus your rattled gaze at Beomgyu— at his face, his expression, but you don’t get to do any of that. You don’t get to laugh it off, take it back, say it was just a joke. A joke. Because just as when you open your mouth, the words threatening to jump out of your throat—

“You’re right.”

Beomgyu says something first, and none of it comes out.

“We should just do that.”

You’re not sure what you’re feeling, but it’s like your heart that got dropped right into the pits of your stomach just burst into a million, fluttering pieces.

Your breathing is ragged. Your eyes flit back up to Beomgyu. Your face flushes. Why isn’t he laughing? Why isn’t he saying it’s just a joke?

“Jesus christ—! There you two are! What the hell are you doing— oh my god, were you hooking up under the table?!”

“It’s new year’s, baby! Everyone, get crazy!”

You can’t feel your legs. You’re fished out from down there and into the mess of noises and singing and firecrackers bursting and you never get to clarify anything to Beomgyu, because he’s tugged along by Heeseung and Hyunjin for a group photo with the boys, and Sungchan and Minjeong are asking you a million questions that you can’t hear over the unfamiliar sound of your heartbeat. What...what is this? What the fuck is going on?

“Don’t tell me you actually did Heeseung’s stupid fucking trick.” 

And then it hits you.

Butterflies. There are butterflies in your stomach.

This cannot be normal. You douse them all dead with a shitload of alcohol. 

“Whoa, holy shit, that was half the bottle!”

That ought to kill the fluttering and buzzing insects. Only temporarily because the next morning, you’re hit with a different kind of buzzing.

Your head is ringing— buzzing— brain fuzzy, and when you open your eyes, you’re no longer in the mess of Jung Sungchan’s apartment. You’re in yours. In your bed. Still wearing your dress from last night under the covers. You have no idea how you got here. 

It takes a moment for your mind to settle. You groan, vision swaying when you lean over to the bedside desk to feel around for your phone. You don’t feel it. But you do feel your purse that has your phone in it. What the fuck. Seriously, how did you get home? When you turn it on, you see on your lock screen message notifications from Heeseung and Sungchan, asking if you got home safe, pictures from last night. Some of the events caught on camera, you remember happening. Some, you definitely don’t remember happening and you grow all the more concerned.

One text in particular pulls in the only memory you need to remember, though. It’s from Minjeong, saying [choi beomgyu hauled your ass home in case you’re wondering btw HAHAHHAHA i never saw you drink that much before. jesus christ].

And you freeze, the blood draining from your face as you recall just what happened during the new year’s countdown.

You might have asked out your friend of twenty years.

And he might have said yes.

Your face drops into the plush of your pillow, lurching over to let out a long, distressed scream. That fucking grape trick was more effective than you hoped. Instantaneous. Heeseung should’ve warned you of its effects, what the fuck. Your moment is ruined by the sound of dull knocking, which you can locate coming all the way from your front door. 

You pause, face still muffled into your pillow. The knocking is followed by a short pause. Then the sound of your door code beeping. Then your door unlocking.

Motherfucker, shit, fucking crap.

You throw your covers over yourself. You’re buried underneath. Choi Beomgyu can’t hurt you from down here. Maybe. God damn it, you don’t know what to do, you haven’t had the chance to think yet. The sound of footsteps from outside your room causes you to jitter. It’s still pretty far off, shuffling into the kitchen, you think, and they stop for a moment. Cupboards draw open. The sink turns on then stops. Footsteps resume. They enter your open bedroom door and you bite down a swear. Fuck it all, you’re so fucking fucked.

The desk chair behind you is pulled out, the sound of its legs screeching against the floorboards, ending with a quiet clatter. You hear a second clunk. Then the voice of someone sitting right behind your curled up and pathetic, vulnerable frame.

“I know you’re awake.”

Fuck. Fuck everything.

“C’mon, get up. It’s past two in the afternoon. I can’t believe I woke up earlier than you.”

Begrudgingly, you peel yourself out from under the covers, and just as hesitantly turn yourself around to face the face you aren’t quite ready to see at the moment with squinting eyes from the bright sunlight. You hear Beomgyu let out a sigh. “You drank way too much last night. Or this morning. Whatever.” Instead of looking directly at his face, you choose to look at whatever he’s brought to your desk instead. A tray. A tray with oatmeal, aspirin, and a glass of water. Your stomach is starting to act up again. You’re not sure if it’s whatever the fuck you drank last night, or something else. “How’s your head?”

Not well, thank you very much. You can’t even manage to verbalize your comeback. Shit, just how much have you fallen after just one slip-up. Why isn’t he bringing it up anyway? Why is he acting so normal? You grunt as you sit up from your bed, head still ringing as the aftermath of last night, and set the tray right onto your lap.

You drink your water, eat your meal, and take your medicine in silence. Beomgyu doesn’t do anything to bother you. All he does is watch you with steady eyes, gaze following the movements of your hand especially when you bring the water to your lips, leaned slightly forward as if he’s ready to jump in in case you drop it because your hands are shaking a little. 

Thankfully, you don’t do that. When everything’s done, Beomgyu gets up and ducks down to get the tray off your lap, and— much to the demise of your entire nervous system— you’re forced to look at his face in such a close proximity, that you hiccup and jump back into the headboard.

Beomgyu turns up to look at you, still hunched over you. “What?”

You clear your throat. “Th—thanks?”

His eyes are fixed. His nose scrunches a little before setting the tray back down and returning to his seat. “You look like shit.”

“Thank you, asshole,” you correct, getting riled up. He’s fucking smiling. Seriously, why is he being so normal? “Now, leave. I’m gonna wash up so I look less like shit.”

“Sure,” he laughs. “I’ll come get you at around four?”

You look up. “Why?”

“To take some pretty photos around the city.” He’s up again, tray in his hands to return to the kitchen. 

“Why?” you continue to squint at him.

“Why not? I didn’t bring the camera at the party because some of the guys might’ve used it as a ping pong ball, so I wasn’t able to take any photos for the new year. But it’s still the first day of the year today. Let’s go make the most out of it.”

Cheesy as hell, but you’re already all dressed and ready to go out when he barges into your apartment again. He makes an impressed holler upon seeing you, saying that you look like a human being again, and you land a kick on his shin before locking up your door, Choi Beomgyu trailing behind you with an anguished yelp.

It’s late afternoon, the streets of downtown Seoul are uncharacteristically free. Most are probably still behind the shutters, nursing their post-new year’s hangover. Some are probably back in their hometowns for the holidays. You and Beomgyu trail down the walkway. Your hands are stuffed into your pockets, him holding up the digital camera to his chest while he whips his head around, probably looking for a pretty scene to capture. You laugh, racing up your steps as you walk ahead of him. “Pick up the pace, loser,” you call out, turning half-around to provoke him with a snicker.

Your lips quirk just in time for the sound of a click to stop your backwards walk. Beomgyu has the camera up to his face. He puts it down, grinning. 

“Hey!” You’ve halted in your steps, stomping down a single foot. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Like I said.” Beomgyu hums and looks down at the shot he just took, a satisfied look on his face upon inspection before flicking his eyes back up to you. “Taking pretty photos. Let’s go near the crosswalk. I think a shot would be nice there.”

You thought you were just going to accompany him on this excursion but somehow, you got roped into being a subject in the countless photos he’s taking. On the sidewalk. By a tree in the park. In the arcade. In the middle of walking into the facade of a cafe. Most of his shots are taken without warning, causing you to throw a mini-tantrum immediately after the taunting sound of the shutter. But all he does is laugh and shield the camera from you, assuring you that you look fine, that it’s pretty, that you guys should hurry off because the evening is nearing, and you’d just have to huff and and surrender and move on, else he’d notice the warmth on your cheeks and the stirring in your stomach.

“Ah, I want to try the mocha cake.”

“Then order it?”

“Now, I don’t want to because you’re telling me to.”

“You’re ten years old.”

“Nyenye, you’re ten years— hi! We’d like an iced matcha latte, iced americano, and a coffee mocha cake, please. Dine in, yes. Thanks.”

The things he’s always done that seemed so, so natural that you never even put a second thought to them suddenly linger in the forefront of your thoughts. The way he puts his lips on your straw even though you know he hates matcha just to annoy you. The way your hands rest on the table, his fingers tapping on your knuckles while droning on a rant about some game you don’t even know the name of. The way he naturally brushes a crumb off your face, shares a dessert with you, holds up the last bit of cake and icing on the fork in front of your mouth for you to have. Really, nothing has changed. Nothing has, but it feels like your entire life just got turned upside down thanks to the event of last night— of which neither of you are even addressing.

You still show up to each other’s places unannounced. You still go to 7-Eleven ice cream runs at three in the morning. You still shove your face into his arm while watching horror movies and screaming bloody murder, but nothing happens beyond that. 

Not once have you brought up the conversation you had under the table at the strike of the new year. Not even after a month has passed since then. 

It’s now the beginning of February, and you’re on campus to register for your classes next month. While there, you’re forced into the coding club room by the pest named Lee Heeseung. He rattles into your ear on the way there, talking about how they’re currently polishing the game they submitted to TXT Inc. (Which won. He never fails to emphasize that). When you get there, you’re jumped by three more boys wanting you to try out the said winning game. 

“C’mon, just give it a shot!” Hyunjin bulldozes you into the computer corner.

“We’ll walk you through!” Yeonjun chimes in right after. 

“I’m not— I’m not interested in your—” Jeongin sits you down on the seat. Heeseung is covering your path to escape. Yeonjun and Hyunjin are on the other side. God damn it. Where’s Hanbin? Where’s the only normal person here? Heeseung is messing with keyboard and mouse, the screen immediately loading, and you’re greeted by what appears to be a first person shooter game that honestly looks...pretty good? Wow. They actually worked hard on this. 

“What are you guys doing?”

All five of you turn your heads back to the door. It’s Beomgyu. He’s got a backpack on him, which he tosses off to the sofa before walking up to your huddle. “Great! You’re here!” Hyunjin welcomes him in. Beomgyu finds a spot in between Heeseung and Jeongin, curious eyes glancing down at you. “We’re trying to get her to play our game!”

“Oh?” Beomgyu hums, leaning down against the back of your chair. “Sounds fun. Go ahead. I want to see this too.”

Do they enjoy fucking with you this much? Is this their favorite hobby? For some reason, clicking start is making you more nervous than you expected. Your hand is literally shaking on the mouse and you can hear Heeseung snorting at the way your other hand is positioned on the keyboard. “I hate all of you,” you announce, the stage loading. “I really hate all of you.”

“This is gonna be fun,” Jeongin assures from behind you. “The controls are simple. You just—”

“No, let her figure things out by herself.”

“Okay, it’s start—”

“Go, go, go! Run! Start shooting!”

“What?! Shoot what?!”

“The enemies! No, no, you’re going the wrong way don’t—”

“What is this?! What’s going on?!”

“Oh my god, this is hilarious.”

“Am I dead? Is it over?”

“Dude,” Heeseung lurches over, laughing and wheezing. “You’re so bad. You suck.”

Beomgyu is also laughing with them. You give him a side-eye. He immediately shuts up, clearing his throat, but obviously still smiling in avid amusement. “Let’s try that again,” he says. “I’ll help you this time.”

He cracks his knuckles, teiling Jeongin to scoot over so he’s the one directly behind you now. No, you don’t want to try again. You start turning around, but are immediately stopped with a quiet squeak because Beomgyu leans forward, pushing the office chair further into the desk, and you stiffen when his arms stretch out to cage you in. “What—what are you doing?” you sputter. 

“These guys aren’t gonna leave you alone until you finish a level,” he simply says. His hands rest over yours on the keyboard, on the mouse. He’s pressed up against your upper back, your shoulders. He’s way too fucking close. 

“Awh. This is way less fun.”

At this point, your eyes aren’t even registering the screen, and Beomgyu is basically playing the game himself. The shooting noises and fighting sounds from the speakers run dull. Dizzy. You feel dizzy. “Nice! Good job,” he says. His low voice is a rumble right into your ears. “Hey, you’re doing it. Nice shot.”

You shoot up, nearly headbutting him in the process.

“What’s up?”

“Restroom,” you squeak out. “I need to go to the restroom.”

The cold splash of water against your face is very effective. You’re at the restroom, hands gripping the edges of the sink as you stare at your drenched face at the mirror. There are things that you can’t ignore anymore. You two should address what’s up as soon as possible. Otherwise, you’re going to go insane.

“Choi Beomgyu.”

Not now, though. You...you just haven’t gathered enough courage yet to talk to him about it yet.

“Pass me the pillow.”

Right now, you’re on your living room floor, the aftermath of your takeout lunch on the coffee table, and Beomgyu grabs a cushion from behind him on the couch and pats it down onto your laps, eyes glued to your laptop screen, a dog grooming YouTube video playing.

There’s still a little bit less than a month before the semester starts. Beomgyu is supposed to leave for Daegu in a bit. The Chois have a family event back home, and they invited you as well, but you promised to accompany Jung Sungchan for a seminar later this afternoon, so you had to decline. Beomgyu’s brother is in the city, so he doesn’t have to drive or commute all the way there. He’s gonna get picked up in like, thirty minutes, so he decided to wait around and loiter at your place for the time being.

The entire time he’s been here, seemingly unbothered and unchanged even after the new year’s thing, you’ve been trying to get your shit together and just clear the air. What the fuck are you two now? Does he even remember what happened? Or is he just trying to sweep it under the rug? Is he overthinking about it just as much as you are right now? What the hell is going on?

“What are you thinking about?”

The video he’s watching has ended. His attention is now completely on you.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Yeon—Yeonjun seonbae is the only graduating student from the club, right?”

“Ah. Yeah,” he hums in affirmation. He twists his body a bit, crossed-legs slightly turned towards you, and he places an arm on the sofa seat, head resting on the knuckles of his hand. “The guys are planning on throwing a party this weekend to celebrate. To, you know, send him off.”

“He’s probably gonna end up crying again, isn’t he.” You attempt to dissuade your brain for now. 

“Oh, definitely,” he laughs. “We’re gonna set up cameras in the clubroom. He won’t be safe.”

Bzzt bzzt. The both of you look at his vibrating phone on the table, right next to your laptop. Beomgyu grunts in annoyance (and slight back pain), pulling himself up to grab the device. You silently watch while he takes the call. He looks so annoyed. You’d be making fun of him right now if your brain wasn’t in so much of a mess.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu whines into the phone. “What do you mean meet you at the gas station? That’s so inconvenient. Ugh, fine. What time are you gonna be there?” You shoot him a thumbs up. He pushes it down, hand enclosing the back of your fist, and he continues complaining into the phone. “Just text me before you start driving. Yeah, she’s here. Do you wanna say hi?”

He hands you his phone. You clear your throat and put it up to your ear with your free hand. “Hi, hyung, how have you been? Yeah, he’s at my place again. A freeloader— exactly!” Beomgyu squeezes your knuckles at that remark, visibly pouting and offended. You brush him off. “Ah, yeah. Sorry I can’t join you guys. Maybe next time, I’ll be able to—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Beomgyu snatches the phone back. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wait for you there. Bye, hyung. Later.”

The end of the call signals that you two should maybe start cleaning up. You throw out the boxes, wash the dishes and cups you used and tidy up the living room floor and couch. Beomgyu is grumbling the entire time, asking if you really have to attend the stupid seminar later. “I’m not gonna flake on my friends, Beomgyu.” You lean against the doorway with your arms crossed, seeing him out. He frowns. “You’re gonna be gone for three days right?” 

“Yeah,” he responds, audibly deflated. 

A huff of air blows past your lips. Three days. You should just talk to him once he gets back. “Have you packed already? Need any help?”

“No, I already took care of everything last night.”

“Wow,” you laugh, impressed. “That’s so unlike you. You’re well prepared for once.”

Beomgyu doesn’t respond to your jab with the same energy. “I didn’t want to spend the entire morning packing when I can use it to spend a bit more time with you.” 

Instead, he decides to be sweet. Honest. 

You feel your rib cage rattle, your stomach stir. “O—oh,” you rasp out. “Um.”

“What’s with the look?” he laughs a little, taking a step forward. Your back is still pressed against the doorframe. Beomgyu’s arm reaches up further above your head, pushing himself closer. “I thought that much was obvious when I knocked at your door at nine in the morning.”

When you follow his gaze, you can tell that his eyes are tracing the lines on your lips, eyelids heavy. Your breath hitches in your throat. Shit. Oh my god. Is he going to kiss you? Is he leaning it to kiss you? You’re about to freak the fuck out and Beomgyu seems to notice that. He pulls back, allowing the air to circulate back into your lungs, and he lets out a sigh. 

His arm falls down to his side. “You can still take it back,” he says. You look at him, brows furrowed. What? Take what back? Beomgyu waits for you to answer, and when you don’t, he decides that it’s best to be more clear. “We can pretend like what happened on new year’s didn’t happen— uh, remain with what we’re used to if you’re not fine with this. If you think we’re better off as friends like we’ve always been, I don’t mind. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Oh. Oh. You weren’t ready to talk about this yet. You planned to talk about this three days later, but when did your plans ever work? Never. 

Beomgyu attempts a smile and starts heading back to his apartment. “We can talk more once I get back so you can think about it. I’ll go get my—”

“No, wait.”

You grab hold of his arm. Beomgyu turns back, surprised. 

“I’ve al—already been thinking about it. I’ve been thinking a lot.” Crap. Your throat is dry. You didn’t plan any of this. You weren’t expecting to say this to him right now at all. “What I’m saying is—”

Choi Beomgyu looks a little expectant. You suck in a sharp breath. This feels weird. It’s like there’s something jittering at the base of your stomach. Many things, fluttering all the way up to your ribcage and throat and causing your cheeks to flare up.

“We...we can give it a try.”

There. You said it. You finally fucking said it and you can breathe again. Your gaze focuses on Beomgyu, heart racing, and his expression is yet again indecipherable.

He takes a step towards you. Your nerves jolt when you feel his touch on the arch of your spine, pulling you in even closer. “You sure?” 

You let out a squeak. “Tech—technically, I was the one who asked you out, so shouldn’t I— shouldn’t I take responsibility…?”

Beomgyu takes a moment’s pause at your resolution. You’re nervous. You’re so nervous right now that you might have severely fucked up. He looks at you. He looks at you in a way that makes you want to avert your eyes, face flushed from the heat of the moment, only for him to release the tension with a big laugh, fully embracing you by the waist, and dropping his head down onto your shoulder before lifting it back up to look at you with a wide smile. “Yeah. Yeah, you should.”

This time, when he leans in again, doesn’t draw back midway. 

You feel his lips on yours and your eyes flutter wide open, heart rate spiking up and up and up until your lips part, him kissing you deeper, until you can’t keep them open anymore. Beomgyu’s hold around your waist loosens, one hand traveling up to the back of your head before it could collide with the doorframe when you stumble back as you lose the strength in your knees, and before you know it, you’ve got your hands tangled in his hair, dizzy and short-winded and making you think that this— this isn’t so bad.

He draws his lips back with a heavy exhale. “God,” he sighs out as the heat of his breath hits your skin. Your foreheads are pressed together, eyes hazy and cloudy when he leans in again, mumbling into your mouth, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

The reverie ends when a jolt of self-consciousness hits you belatedly. Your hands travel down to his chest, barely pushing off in a surge of sudden panic. Your face is burning, your lips feel fuzzy, and Beomgyu looks both surprised and disappointed which makes the churning in your stomach even worse. “A—a—aren’t you supposed to go now?” you stutter out, still a little breathless. Holy shit. That just happened. 

“You’re right,” Beomgyu responds. “I should go now.” But his body language isn’t showing any signs of leaving. You wait for him to budge. He doesn’t.

Somehow, you manage to push him off you and finally drag him out of the building with his backpack in tow, much to his whines and protests. His brother has been endlessly calling him with all calls left unanswered except for this one. “I’m going! I’m almost there.” He is not. He’s at the bottom steps of the apartment building. 

“Text me when you arrive,” you tell him, ready to head back inside. Beomgyu pockets his phone, looking more alive than ever and it’s annoying you a little.

“Mhm,” he hums in response. His eyes flicker down, debating whether or not to put whatever he’s thinking about with that into action, but decides against it and settles for a rough pat and a ruffle on your head instead, pressing out a small smile. “See you when I get back.” You wave him goodbye as he disappears out into the road. He sends you a text the moment he meets up with his brother.

It’s still a little awkward. You still can’t wrap your mind around this change after being nothing more than just two good friends for two decades. You’re just glad he isn’t trying to rush it. What doesn’t change is his incessantly annoying texts every goddamned hour throughout the three days he’s away. 

And indeed, you do see him when he gets back. He’s supposed to go shopping for the Yeonjun farewell party tomorrow anyway, so you decide to meet him at the station and just proceed to the store immediately after. When he departs from the train and sees you waiting amidst the crowd, he immediately comes rushing over like a puppy. Christ, Minjeong was right. 

Admittedly, you can’t get used to this yet. He’s always been touchy, but they’ve always been subtle. Devouring you into a bone crushing embrace to the point where all you can see and feel with your face is the fur of his jacket isn’t exactly subtle. The sounds of trains zipping, people chatting flood your senses. You quite frankly, cannot breathe. “Hey, chill out. It’s literally been only three days.”

“Bleh, whatever. Chill out, fuck off. Just let me have this.”

Your attempts to wrestle your way out of this good-natured suffocation is fruitless. You used to be able to push him around like nothing back in middle school. How far you have fallen.

“We still have errands to run,” you grunt out, managing to at the very least pop your head out from being smothered into his chest. He looks down at you, bitterly clicking his tongue and loosening his grip a bit. “Jeez, do you like me or something?”

That was supposed to be a joke. Beomgyu doesn’t find it very funny because he suddenly draws back, arms crossed and expression utterly exasperated. “Are you serious? Are you an idiot?”

“I was just pushing your buttons, stupid,” you shoot him a glare, taking advantage of your freedom to start walking ahead and out of the station.

“You’re stupid.”

There isn’t a day where Beomgyu doesn’t decide to irritate the crap out of you. He’s walking behind you. He’s stepping on the back of your shoes and bumping into you like a sixth grader. “Quit it!”

“Make me.”

He’s so annoying. He continues being annoying even at the event supplies stores downtown, where you’re picking up some streamers and party hats for tomorrow. You and he debate between hot pink and baby pink for the color theming. Rock paper scissors declare hot pink the winner and you get paper plates and cups in matching colors. “By the way,” Beomgyu starts, putting in two party poppers into the basket once you’re done loading up the utensils. “I met up with some of the guys from highschool yesterday. You know. Seungmin and Jimin. They were back in town for the holidays as well.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember them,” you respond, not very enthusiastically. The memory still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth like a permanent carpet burn. Beomgyu notices you shooting daggers at the innocent, inflated teddy bear balloon right in front of you. He tugs on your hand and leads you to the checkout counter before you can vent your temper at the poor balloon. “Anyway, how are they? Did you guys hang out?”

“Same old. We hit up the PC room for old times sake,” he hums, waiting as the cashier buzzes your items. “Actually, our high school batch is apparently planning a small reunion or get together of some sorts here in Seoul. They’re asking if we wanted to attend too.”

Well. You don’t exactly want to mingle with a bunch of kids that you weren’t even close with back then. And your social battery is already beyond depleted and has had no chance of ever getting a full recovery after all the events from December to January.

You mull it over while the counter finishes bagging your things. The both of you decide to make a pitstop at a nearby cafe. After ordering, you two pick a table on the outside porch because the weather is nice out. Beomgyu drags the metal chair from across so that he’s sitting next to you. Again, Kim Minjeong might’ve been onto something when she called him a puppy with severe attachment issues. The server comes by with your order. Your caffeine intake has been atrocious so you opted for a lychee drink instead, and he settles with a regular latte. Beomgyu hums out a tune while stirring his coffee, playfully hooking his opposite leg with yours underneath the table.

“About the reunion thing,” you chime up. “Will Chaeryoung be there?” 

“How should I know,” he grimaces after trying out your drink. At this point, you think he’s faking it. “She’s your friend, not mine.”

He just keeps pushing your buttons today. “Hey, jerk.” You snatch back the drink from under his chin, visibly provoked. “Why have you gotten even more annoying now that we’re— we’re. We’re—”

Your initial attitude is immediately gone. You choke on your words, one left unsaid because at this point it’s still a little fucking embarrasing, especially with how Choi Beomgyu’s is eyeing you with a shit eating expression while taking a sip from his coffee.

“Now that we’re what?” he hums in provocation, smiling that annoying smile of his with twinkling eyes. “C’mon. Say it.”

“Fuck you, nevermind—”

“No, I want to hear this! Now what we’re what?” Suddenly, he’s twisting over his chair to directly face you. You groan and quickly jerk away when you notice he’s enjoying this a little too much. You seriously want to sock him in the face. “Do you want me to stop being annoying? Hey! Hey, look at me!”

You let out a squeak when you feel his palms on your warm cheeks, turning your head to face him in bewilderment and you panic and hold onto your chair. “What the hell are you—”

“Tell me,” he interrupts. “What do you want me to do?”

This bastard wants to kill you via heart failure. Any ability to speak coherently has completely left your body.. “I, uh, well—”

“Hm?” he touts even further. “What was that?”

You hate him. You hate him so much. You want to hide and bury your face into the ground, and he’s just visibly laughing at you like a sick freak.

Beomgyu finally releases his hold on your face to snatch both of your hands instead. He pulls them towards his chest, but his eyes remain on you, the sheer amusement never leaving his gaze. “Do you want me to be sweeter?” he hums, tracing his thumbs over your knuckles before pressing a light kiss in between the narrow gap. “I can do that.”

His eyes are still trained on you, almost taunting.

“Baby?”

Then the sun spits on your face and you feel the primal instinct to book it and run away.

“Sweetie?” He tugs you forward, pulling your forearms into his chest, just in time for him to land a peck on your nose. “Darling?”

But you can’t run away. No. Because Choi Beomgyu has you hostage while he attacks you with an onslaught of cringey endearments and butterfly kisses on the face to remind you that he is, in fact, strong now, and you can’t do anything about it. Had you known he was going to torment you like this, you should’ve just taken it all back.

“Ow! Why are you hitting me, I’m just doing what you wanted me to do— ow! Then again, dipshit does suit you better than—ow! This is assault!” 

“You’re assault!” you screech out, finally managing to retrieve your bearings and you immediately cross your arms over the table, next to your barely touched lychee drink, and bury your face, never to see the light of day ever again. You hear Beomgyu having the time of his life next to you, laughing like an asshole. You send a blind kick in his direction. It hits. His cackling stops and he makes another pained noise.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry,” you hear him say. Then you hear the squeak of the chair, a bump on your elbow, and you peek out to see him laying his head on his crossed arms on the table as well, facing you. “I was just happy to see you again.”

You stare at him. How the fuck are you supposed to keep protesting when he’s being like this. “Beomgyu, you were gone for three days.”

“Three days too long,” he whines, muffling himself into his sleeves. “I’m with you every single day. I was suffering from withdrawals especially when my parents and your parents kept asking me why I didn’t bring you this year.” He tosses his head back up, suddenly looking at you with narrowed eyes and petulantly pursed lips. “And to think that when I got back, all I’ve been getting are swears and punches and rejection and— ah, my heart is wounded. I won’t ever recover from this. Never, ever, not even in a million— mmph!”

Choi Beomgyu’s eyes are wide, the tips of his fingers lifted up to his slightly parted mouth after you’d just shot up to shut up his never ending yapping by kissing him. There’s a heavy blush on his cheeks and even though yours are a little warm too, the corner of your lips involuntarily quirk upward. Holy shit. So, this is how it feels to be on the attacking end. Choi Beomgyu, you can eat shit and die. “Hah. Two can play it that game, fuckf—”

“Oh my god?!”

Your victory is cut short. Your blood runs cold. You should’ve remembered that you’re on the outside deck of a cafe right now, where people can just freely pass by and see you. You two are, in fact, seen, not just by any people. 

With the creaks of hesitance in your joints, you turn to the sound of the very appalled, very alarmed, very familiar voice. There, you see Kim Minjeong and Sung Hanbin standing with shopping bags, some of which have fallen on the floor, all of which are for what you assume is Yeonjun’s farewell party. The former looks at you in horror. The latter is just smiling and waving. “What the fuck did I just see?” Minjeong croaks out. “Tell me, what the fuck did I just see?”

“I—I can explain!” you quickly sputter out. You turn to Beomgyu for help, but the fucker is still lost in a lovestruck daze. Oh my god. You want to die.

“Congratulations,” Hanbin happily remarks. You want to die very much. Maybe at the hands of Minjeong because she’s marching up the deck and her eyes are on fire. 

Somehow, you manage to smooth things over. You fill them in with what happened on new year, and Minjeong says she saw this coming but still can’t accept it because you’re way too good for Beomgyu, which snaps him out of it and they get into a squabble. “So you approved of Jang Seung but not me?!” Hanbin is all smiles, though, and he promised to keep it a secret from the rest of the coding club guys for now because you don’t even want to imagine what would happen if they find out. Heeseung especially. Oh god. It’s going to be a disaster.

The disaster comes not even twenty-four hours later, at Yeonjun’s farewell party. 

Most of the morning, you all spend the time to decorate the clubroom and set up all the cameras to record Yeonjun’s inevitable sobfest. Hot pink and white streamers are hung around and about. There are balloons on the wall spelling CONGRATULATIONS, Y3ONJUN! because there weren’t any letter E’s available. The boxes of pizza and chicken arrive. Jeongin walks in with a cake. You’re all decked out in party hats and birthday trumpets while waiting for the man of the hour to arrive.

“Pink or brighter pink?” Beomgyu asks, holding up the two cones for your perusal. You’re both wedged in a corner in the room, slightly detached from the rest of the group scuttling by the door.

“First one,” you hum, and he draws the string down, tapping the cone cap on the crown of your head while he slowly lets go of the string once it’s set underneath your chin. Beomgyu takes a step back, examining his work, before nodding into a satisfied smile and putting his own party hat on himself.

He’s. He’s so dumb. You brush off a smile with the shake of your head, and in doing so you inadvertently lock eyes with Heeseung, who seems to have witnessed the entire exchange and is now squinting at you— like he’s trying to understand something. Clearing your throat, you look away before he can take your eye contact as an invitation to talk, and Heeseung is just about to approach when the clubroom door clatters open, a series of party poppers go off, confetti shoots out, right in time for Yeonjun to step in, eyes wide in half-fear, half-surprise.

“Wh—whoa, what? Hey, what’s going on?”

In a matter of seconds, things escalate. Congratulations are yelled out. Some happy birthdays (whatever makes them happy). The pink graduation cake is released. It takes a moment for Yeonjun to let it all sink in, and when it does, the boys’ predictions are ultimately proven correct because he tries to play it off that he’s definitely, absolutely not crying (he is). 

They laugh at him, make fun of him, and group hugs are shared. It’s all very silly and very cute. You’re on photo taking duty until Hyunjin pulls you into their mess of limbs and yelling and sobs until you’re finally able to wiggle out back into your corner. 

Beomgyu returns to your corner with a slice of cake on a paper plate, two forks, and a dollop of icing on the tip of his nose. 

“Is that a new look you’re trying?” you laugh, taking one of the forks on the plate.

“What are you talking about?” His brows are furrowed. You tap on your nose. Beomgyu mirrors your movement, still confused until he feels the smudge of icing, and he draws his hand away with disgust. “God damn it. Jeongin, that rat.” Despite his desire for revenge, Choi Beomgyu doesn’t leave the corner. He stays there with you, watching all the rest of the boys making a mess as you share your cake, plucking off a crumb from the corner of your mouth while you wheeze at Heeseung trying and failing to pin the tail on the Yeonjun-donkey. 

“Idiot, to your left! Left! That’s not your—”

“Hey, hold still for a sec—”

“Are you directionally— oh!”

Lee Heeseung rips off his blindfold— ready to whine at you— but that intention immediately simmers down to something else when he snaps his head just in time for him to witness Beomgyu touching your face and getting away with it unscathed. You jolt. Heeseung’s eyes are narrowed at you. “Hey, what’s going—”

“We got a noise complaint! ICT publication from next door!”

“Ugh, party poopers.”

“Choi Beomgyu, go deal with it.”

Thank god for that interruption. The man in question doesn’t seem as happy about it, though. “What? Why me?” he groans in protest. You see Heeseung pause mid-stride towards the both of you.

“Because we need someone with charisma to make sure we don’t get in trouble and Yeonjun hyung is useless right now.” Hyunjin reasons. Cut to Yeonjun who’s still sobbing his eyes out at the paper roll of messages you guys wrote for him. He really is useless. Beomgyu sees the waterworks and lets out another grunt.

“Ugh.” Pouting, Beomgyu turns back to you, handing you the plate and finishing it off by messing up your hair. “I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Quit acting like you won’t miss me, meanie.”

You stick your tongue out. Beomgyu rolls his eyes and heads off with Hyunjin outside to deal with the complaint, hooking the latter by the neck with his arm. You’re about to finish up your cake when Heeseung replaces Beomgyu’s spot. You nearly choke on the damn thing when he suddenly bolts up saying, “Hey. Why the fuck are you two acting so weird?”

“Jesus fucking—” you cough. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The look of suspicion never leaves Heeseung’s face. You can feel it— cold sweat breaking. Shit. Is this it? Is this the end of your peace and quiet? “Beomgyu has been all up in your space since we started preparing and at this point, you would’ve sworn at him at least two dozen times already,” he starts. “I haven’t heard your unrecyclable mouth utter even a shit or damn. There hasn’t even been any bickering and it’s freaking me out.”

Of all times, why does he decide to be perceptive now? You can’t even muster up a response. Thank god he’s a yapper because he fills in the silence himself.

“Well, whatever,” Heeseung simply shrugs. “I guess that’s a good thing because my ears are spared from your potty mouth just for today.” 

He’s perceptive but not sharp. Today, you are saved. “Go suck a dick.”

“That’s the spirit. Back to normal.” Your friend grins and gives you a thumbs up. You shoot him a glare and he blocks your punch with his palm. “But did something happen? The vibe between you and he is a little different. How do I put it?” You struggle to remove your fist from the bastard’s grip, but he doesn’t let you budge while he continues to ponder. “It’s like you’re a couple of high schoolers who just started dating or some shit, haha. Something like that.”

You rip your hand away and press it close to your chest.

“Yo, what’s with the face?”

Turns out, your good for nothing friend has been speaking a little too loud that it’s gotten quiet. Quiet in anticipation because everyone in the room is looking at you right now— including Beomgyu, who’d just gotten back with Hyunjin after their successful mission. “Whoa, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asks. You gulp. You look at Beomgyu, who’s a little taken aback by what’s going down. Oh, you’re so fucking screwed.

“Wait, why aren’t you denying it?”

How could you when Choi Beomgyu is looking straight at you? Sure, you don’t want them to find out, but you don’t have the heart to deny it and make Beomgyu upset, either! You remain quiet for five, sixe seconds— several seconds too late because they construe your silence as a yes, and Heeseung’s eyes start beaming, and it gets loud again, and your face is starting to grow way too hot for you to handle

“Oh my god? Oh my fucking god? Oh my god, my biggest wish is finally happening— guys! Guys!”

That’s it. It’s over. It’s all over. The news spreads like wildfire, but it’s all Heeseung’s hearsay until a confirmation comes out from either of you two’s mouths. Heeseung is shaking you by the shoulders. Yeonjun is crying even more. Hanbin is watching everything with a smile and he sends you an assuring thumbs up, but you don’t feel assured at all. From the corner of your eye, you can also see Beomgyu getting assaulted. He’s got Hyunjin and Jeongin yelling at him from both sides. He looks like he’s getting a migraine.

“Is it true?! Did you two really decide to date?”

“No way! Not with how adamantly she’s been against—”

“Wait, this isn’t our business, we shouldn’t—”

“Who asked who out? C’mon, you gotta tell us!”

Despite it all, Beomgyu’s usually loud mouth remains quiet. He says nothing to them. Instead, he meets eyes with you from across the room— a cock of his head, a slight raise of his brow as if to say just give me the signal, what do you want me to do? 

You feel as though you’ve already been asking him for too many favors this year. You suck in a sharp inhale, and, while ignoring Heeseung’s vigorous shaking of your person, answer Hyunjin’s question in his stead. “I did,” you said. “I asked him. On new year’s. Under the table.”

Heeseung suddenly freezes. You squeeze your eyes shut and look down, cheeks burning. Then you hear a scream.

“You?! You?!”

“This is crazy. What the fuck, I don’t believe it.”

“I knew it! I knew something big happened then! Gosh, I fucking knew it!”

“You were barely conscious then, how could you know—”

“About time, really.”

“Hey, I’m so happy for you two,” Yeonjun suddenly saunters up to you, eyes red and threatening to spill again. He sniffles and pulls you into a hug. “I’m just so...so—”

And your shoulder is wet. You give him a few pats on the bag as you watch Beomgyu fed off his rabid fans from jumping him while he attempts to move closer to you. He manages to succeed by announcing that he needs to talk to you in private and then go crazy. He doesn’t succeed as much in prying Yeonjun off of you, though. You’re both suffocated in a group hug and best wishes from the soon-to-graduate club member. 

“Hey, I hope none of you have forgotten who this party is actually for,” you raise in the hopes of dissuading the situation. Which works. Somehow. You’re in no position to question a blessing from the skies.

“Sideshow over! Time to watch the message video—”

“Where’s the cord? Whose laptop are we using again?”

“Hey, nobody leaves until we clean everything up! Jeongin, I’m looking at you.”

Regardless, Heeseung wouldn’t leave you alone until you fess everything up to him. Even after the party, he kept texting and calling you to tell him the how, what, where, and why. Mostly because he wanted to confirm that he has all the credit of introducing you both through that blind date. It was very funny to see his entire world shatter when you told him that you and Beomgyu had known each other since forever. He stopped bothering you after that and decided it’s not fun anymore to tease you.

Unfortunately, the rest of his club members haven’t tired themselves out yet. When Beomgyu told them he wasn’t gonna join their night out this weekend because you guys had the high school reunion thing he mentioned to you the other day, they refused to believe him and that he was just making an excuse to spend time with you. You owe Hwang Hyunjin a punch to the gut. He must’ve forgotten that there was a reason he was scared of you the first time you met.

Anyhow, those headaches are set aside because you have a different headache to deal with— that is, the impending hell of meeting your high school classmates again. You contacted Chaeryoung the other day, asking if she’s also attending and she responded with a sudden call, which turned into a two-hour catching up session. Needless to say, you have no choice but to show up now. 

It’s the day of, and you’re getting ready inside the bedroom apartment. There’s soft music humming through the turntable Beomgyu gave you as a Christmas gift, loaded with the record you bought last month. It’s the same song he played onstage two months ago. The room is dimmed, the bronze ceiling light the only thing illuminating the walls, floor, the bedsheet you’re sinking into and the mess of makeup items scattered about, as well as Choi Beomgyu’s face that’s inches away from yours— a focused look of concentration etched on his pursed lips as he brings up a brush up to your cheekbone.

“Hey, stop that! It tickles!” you laugh, albeit unwillingly, as you swat his hand away. “If you mess up I’m gonna have to wipe my entire face off and start over.” You feel your phone vibrating next to your hand that’s pressed into the mattress. Must be from Chaeryoung. You look down to grab it, but Beomgyu taps on the side of your jaw, lifting your face up to look at him.

“Who cares? We’re already late anyway.” His brows are all knitted up in concentration, wielding your lipstick wand like it’s a scalpel and he’s about to perform open heart surgery. Why is he taking this so seriously? He barged in while you were putting on makeup earlier and bragged that he could actually be pretty good at this, and you egged him on to prove it. So far, he’s been all talk, sweating after tapping on barely any product on your cheeks with your blush brush. “Stay still, dipshit. Unless you want to end up looking like a clown.”

“I’ll kill you if you mess up.”

“Then maybe shut your mouth for a sec.”

“Nyeye, then maybe shut your mouth for a—”

“Shush! I’m concentrating!”

You muffle down a laugh, seeing him try so hard. You can see the sweat bead trailing down his forehead as he lifts up your chin with one hand and now brings a shade of lipstick to your lips with the other. There’s a jitter of hesitation the moment you feel the product brush against your lips— a light press and a pause. You look up at his eyes but he’s not looking at yours. And then you watch as Beomgyu’s takes a deep breath while clumsily applying the product in a rush, mumbling something you can’t quite hear under his breath, and he twists the wand back into its container before tossing it onto your bed.

“What was that?” you ask, grabbing his wrist before he could retreat. You can see him even under this dim light. You can see just how red his ears are. You fight back the urge to laugh and make fun of him outright. You need a different strategy to win against him. “What did you say?”

Beomgyu is still not looking at you. He’s not fighting against your grip, but the heat has traveled down to his neck as he continues to look away. “I said pretty,” he coughs out, then repeats, “your lips are pretty.” Your grip loosens. He takes this as an opportunity to peek at you once more. Which proves to be the wrong move. “No, your entire face is pretty. What the hell? How am I supposed to make fun of you now? This is pissing me off.”

You don’t recall giving him any blush, but Choi Beomgyu is blushing red when he stomps out of your room in a fit. You’re flustered yourself, but your annoyance and confusion overtakes any other emotion as you quickly gather your purse and phone and wallet to catch up to him and his sudden tantrum.

“Now, why the fuck would that piss you off, you dick?!”

You’re both in your living room now. Beomgyu is throwing on his coat when he snarks back, “See! Because it doesn’t match your vulgar mouth and nasty personality!”

“You talk as if you’re any better than me, fuckface.” Somehow, you’re both on your way out now, walking down the hallway and down the stairs to the lobby as your…civilized conversation continues. “In fact, your mouth is way worse than mine.”

“Lies!” he barks back. You’re both out of the building now. “Statistically speaking, you swear exponentially more times than me.”

“You failed our statistics and probability final in ninth grade. Don’t get smart with me. And should I show you the voice recordings Heeseung sends me whenever you two are playing a game? Your mother would cry if she heard them.”

“I can’t believe you’re using my own strategy against me.” Now, you’re walking to the parking lot and even while he’s ranting, Beomgyu manages to lead you right to his car. “And mind you, those are exceptional circumstances. In general and on average, you are the worst offender of all. There isn’t a day where you don’t tell me to fuck off or eat shit, and I’m not the only victim. There’s Heeseung. There’s Sungchan. There’s—”

His throat holds his words hostage. You are being held hostage in between him and his car when he leans in to open the passenger door for you, hand already on the handle, but Beomgyu remains unmoving. His lips are pressed tightly, together and a wrinkle creases the space between his eyebrows.

Then, he breathes out a swear.

“Dammit.”

His grip leaves the door, cups your cheeks, and lunges in for a kiss like a crazy person.

The first moment, you’re shocked and wide-eyed and wondering what the fuck is this idiot trying to pull. The next moment, you find yourself getting swept up in his insanity, wide eyes fluttering close with your arms around his neck, securing another five minutes of tardiness to the event, and the five minutes end with his exhaled breaths warming up your lips amidst the cold evening. “I swear to god, Choi Beomgyu,” you grunt, barely shoving him away. What was the point of his whole make-up guru charade earlier? What was the point if he was gonna smudge it all off anyway? “There’s seriously something wrong with you.”

Your complaint is met by a pout and him retaliating by pulling you in with one arm, and his free hand finding its way to your face. “Is this your way of breaking up with me?”

He’s insufferable. “You wish.”

“No, I don’t,” is his quick reply. It almost made your heart stutter— even more so when he uses his thumb to wipe the corner of your lips with the disappointed click of his tongue. “Sorry I ruined your lipstick. I’ll fix it in the car.”

You smack his hand away, covering your face with the back of your hand. “It was ruined the moment you put it on!” You quickly whisk yourself into the car, finally. Beomgyu follows into the driver’s seat not long after, but not without yelling out his self-defense.

“Hey, I did a pretty good job! I just need a bit more practice!”

Sometime in the middle of the car ride, the argument fizzled out and got replaced by his playlist, and a conversation on when you’d be coming back home to Daegu before the semester starts since your mom wants to show off the new sofa set she bought. It’s very cozy, she says, with the only downside being the fact that it’s too cozy to the point that your dad’s evening naps have become more frequent.

It’s just mindless meandering on the way to the venue— a karaoke room at Grand Hyatt Hotel that you and the rest of your attending batchmates chipped in to book. Of the thirty students from your batch, twenty-three confirmed attendance including Beomgyu and yourself. Of the other twenty-one people, you’re only close with one of them.

Maybe your endless prattling about your mom’s new cushions and throw pillows to distract yourself from why you even volunteered yourself to attend. Maybe you’re just using Chaeryeong as an excuse to validate yourself and witness exactly how much you’ve and everyone else has changed since highschool in spite of your vocalized disinterest. 

“You good?” 

The car engine has stopped humming. The streetlight road has been replaced by a dim hotel parking lot, and you turn to see the dim image of Choi Beomgyu’s blurry face eyeing you in concern. You recall his initial surprise when you voiced out your intent on coming with him this evening. Not that he’d stopped you, but you figure even his dummy self could put your initial reservations, and the confession you dropped a few months ago when you made up after your fight. I’ve only been known as the girl who’s always been around you and nothing else. I doubt you noticed how people would only approach me because of you. 

It still makes you cringe whenever that memory would creep into your brain like a rat at two in the morning when you’re trying to sleep. Sure, things are different now, but you felt that way at a time when your world consisted of nothing more than your town back in Daegu, and eighty percent of your life was spent in high school. You’re stepping back into that world right now, where you’re nothing but Choi Beomgyu’s friend, acquaintance, something— never had been just yourself. 

And you know Beomgyu knows that this is exactly what you’re thinking about right now. Which is why he doesn’t get out of the car yet, and instead asks, “Do you wanna just ditch and go hang out somewhere else?”

You let out a laugh. He’s such a dork. “No way. Chaeryeong’s gonna sulk if I don’t see her today, and I could use a few drinks, you know.” You have no intention of stripping him the opportunity to hang out with his old friends again. You’ve seen how much his phone has been buzzing on the way here. Why does he have so many clingy male friends? You’ll never understand. Choi Beomgyu is just some guy.

That some guy stares at you for a bit as he mulls over your answer. “If you say so. But if you wanna leave early, just tell me.”

Seriously. It’s not like he treats them like this, for them to go crazy over hum. Then again, maybe this guy just has the inherent knack of drawing people in. You’ve been a witness of that phenomenon for the past two decades, and you’re witnessing it again tonight, counting down from the moment you two leave the car and enter the building, enter the karaoke lounge, and despite Choi Beomgyu (and you) interrupting an ongoing performance by Seungmin and Jimin on the machine, the response to his entrance is, quite frankly, a bit over the top.

“Look who’s finally here.”

“Man, what took you so long?”

“Woohoo! Time to get the party started!”

Neon lights are already lighting up the dim room. Beer bottles have already been cracked open on the tables. You watch as he gets whisked away by his old high school friend group, stifling your laughter because maybe Choi Beomgyu has changed because he looks a little overwhelmed and taken aback by the assault of attention. Surprisingly, it’s a very funny sight. He turns back to you while Jiwoong hooks him by the neck and ushers him into the lounge as if he’s asking for help. Which draws attention to you, obviously. His friends turn around. The first one to greet you is Seungmin. “Oh, hey!” he exclaims, leaning in for a quick half-hug. “It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been stuck at the door for the past few minutes due to the traffic you idiots are causing, thank you very much for asking,” you respond after pulling back, smiling.

“You still have an attitude,” he snarks. “And you two are still joint at the hip. Did you arrive together?”

“Yup. I’m getting sick of him, so I’d appreciate it if you take him away from me now.”

“You can bet on it.”

Before Beomgyu could protest, he’s already been handed the mic and had been fed a shot glass. The rest of the guys follow suit in giving you quick greetings, how are you’s, how have you been’s. You still haven’t seen Chaeryeong around so you shoot her a text. She responds with exclamation marks and the text, [WAIT A SECOND. BATHROOM. BE THERE IN A BIT], and she emerges through the door not long after to greet you with the gift of suffocation. “Oh my god, I missed you so much,” she wheezes out. “Why haven’t we made plans even once since starting uni? I know we talked a bit last time but how have you been? Has Choi Beomgyu been treat—”

You prompt shut her mouth with your hand. You did keep her posted over the phone last time, but you don’t intend on sharing the status update between you and Choi Beomgyu to your whole class that had been under the assumption that you’ve been together, anyway. It’s none of their business— and definitely not the business of the girl that had been staring at you the whole goddamn time since you arrived here.

Among the twenty-one people that came today is Haena. Haena, the girl that invited you to hang out with her friends for coffee around a year ago. Haena, the girl who kept grilling you about your relationship with Beomgyu, just to ask if you could help her get together with him. Haena and her friends, Bora and Seohyun, who’d been drilling holes into the back of your head for the past fifteen or so minutes. Last you’ve heard of her, she’s studying nursing at DSU. 

You’ve never told Beomgyu about the little incident because it never escalated into anything more than dirty looks in the hallway and the classroom and the proliferation of gossip about you and Choi Beomgyu. And since nearly a whole year had passed, you were hoping that that was all water under the bridge now, but apparently it’s not. Jesus, what does she want?

“Okay, okay, let’s stop the singing for now since everyone’s already here and raise our drinks up! To the class of 20XX!”

You’ve no intention of letting that bother the rest of your night. Yet Haena wasn’t the only bitter aftertaste of that period of your life. An hour or so into the evening, you get out of the karaoke lounge to get a breather in the lobby. Choi Beomgyu is still trapped inside thanks to his ten million fanboys-slash-friends. Chaeryeong wanted to come with you but she got roped into a drinking game and has shown no signs of escaping. Which leaves you some time to recharge a bit before the inevitable agenda of reminiscence once everyone’s gotten a bit too drunk and loose-lipped.

On the way to the hotel lobby, you bump into Jiwoong— that guy, ex-crush, who rejected you in the rain two years back, maybe. So much for water under the bridge because just looking at him makes you feel mortified. He greets you with a nod and a smile before walking past you back into the lounge. God, that was an embarrassing moment. You shake your head and race into the hall leading up to the carpeted lobby.

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t the only one with the same idea.

There, sitting defeated and exhausted on one of the plush seats is Lim Jimin. Embarrassing encounter number two. He notices you. You two make eye contact. Fuck. Yes, you two exchanged awkward hello’s earlier, but seeing his face just makes you recount the humiliation you felt when you expected a confession from him.

“O—oh, hi.”

He’s the one that greets you first, and it sounds a lot more agonizing than if you’d been the one to do it. Did Choi Beomgyu say something to this guy? Why does he look just as uncomfortable as you?

“Uh, hey.” You quickly squeeze out a response. “It’s getting stuffy inside, right? Haha, enjoy your alone time. I’ll be doing the same outs—”

“W—wait!” The last thing you expected was for Jimin to say something to you. You preemptively stop walking, and the momentum causes you to jerk a bit, giving him the opportunity to jump off his seat and keep talking. “This…this is a bit long overdue, and this may sound stupid, but I feel like I owe you an apology.” 

An apology? Your brows furrow. You regain your balance, resting a hand on the backrest of the sofa beside you. “For what?”

He struggles a bit. “Um…do you remember when I asked you a favor last year? To convince Beomgyu to help me rank up in League?” You can feel the heat of embarrassment flushing your cheeks again. God dammit, why can’t he be like Jiwoong who just smiled and walked past you like nothing happened? “You stormed off after that, and I couldn’t help but feel really guilty that I did something wrong, but I couldn’t figure out why you’d be angry no matter how much I thought about it.”

Somehow, your hands find themselves covering your face, head down. “Ah,” you exhale a disgruntled breath, then force an inhale. You bring your head up. You look at the boy who’s looking guilty when he shouldn’t be. “You did nothing wrong, Jimin. I was just worked up that day and sort of lost my cool. I should be the one who’s sorry.” This is so ridiculous. At least with this, you think you can finally be over it. “Gosh. I can’t believe you’ve been stressing about that.”

Jimin brings his arms to a cross and rubs his palms against his sleeves, still looking down and sorry. “I felt really bad, okay? I really thought I said something wrong, especially to my friend’s girlfriend.”

You feel a twitch in your temple. Here’s another misunderstanding to clear. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to help you anyway. I wasn’t his girlfriend back then.”

This causes him to jolt his eyes up to look at you. “Huh? Really?” His widened eyes blink rapidly. “Back then? Then does that mean you’re—”

An interruption in the form of your name being called out arrives.

You turn your head back— back into the direction of the hall that led into the karaoke lounge. “Beomgyu,” you acknowledge, padding up to him upon his arrival. You figure he managed to listen in on the last part of that conversation, considering the fact he welcomes your arrival with a snug arm around you. Like Minjeong says, Choi Beomgyu acts like a puppy with attachment issues, but he hasn’t been committing any heinous acts of public affection the entire reunion event. You haven’t even said anything. He knows you a little too well. “What’s up? Got sick of all your friends’ love and attention already?”

“That’s one reason,” he grunts “But the guys wanted to gather everyone around for something. What were you two doing out here?”

The question seems to be pointed at Jimin, and the man in question struggles to come up with a response. You lightly elbow Choi Beomgyu. “We were just clearing up some misunderstandings,” you say, which Jimin echoes, and then you give Beomgyu a whispered reminder. “You know. The fake secret admirer incident last year. Looking back, that was also half your fault for planting ideas in my head.”

“Oh, yeah. That incident,” Beomgyu snorts upon recollection. “Damn. You never fail at being embarrassing.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You elbow him again. Less lightly this time. Telling him about the whole confession misunderstanding on your part will forever be one of the greatest regrets of your life. “Jimin, We’ll head in first.”

“Sure thing. Tell the others I’ll be there in a sec.”

With that, you shuffle back into the hallway, and upon getting closer to the lounge, Beomgyu slowly paces away a considerable distance between the both of you. The last thing he lets go of is his gentle hold on your wrist as he led you down the hallway. He used that same hand to open up the door, announcing your re-arrival— which elicits a different reaction from the first time you two arrived. “Oooh, here they are. The lovebirds are finally here.”

Even though they aren’t misunderstanding your relationship this time around, it still is really fucking annoying.

“C’mon, sit down, sit down! We’ve already started playing truth or dare while you guys were out. Where’s Jimin?”

It doesn’t feel right to deny it. “He’s still out.” But it doesn’t feel right to just let them keep goading you either. “Said he’ll join us later. If you ask any weird questions, I’m out.” 

“Lighten up! We’re all just curious to find out what everyone’s been up to this past year.” The two long tables in the venue have been pressed together to form one big square where everyone is sitting around. With Beomgyu following behind you and seated to your left, you take the spot Chaeryeong has been saving, quickly filling you in with the revelations you’d missed, but it’s hard to keep up with her once the group got the ball rolling again by spinning an empty beer bottle in the middle of the square time after time, round after round. 

You all found out Seungmin was the one who put fake cockroaches in the faculty office. Jimin joined the table after that round. Your poor friend Chaeryeong had to chug down a terrible excuse of a drink for refusing to answer a question. She’s now mumbling incoherencies into your shoulder as you watch the botte spin for the nth time— spinning, spinning, spinning, slowly losing speed until it ultimately stops and points at you.

“Alright, alright! Truth or dare?”

Well, shit.

“Ah. Truth, I guess,” you grant. You’ve already had enough embarrassing moments involving your high school cohort. You need not add another one, and considering how everyone’s interest about you revolves around Choi Beomgyu and Choi Beomgyu only, you figured that the poor idiot next to you should be more scared of the question than you in case his friends want to ask about his deepest, darkest secrets.

“Oh, there’s something I’d like to know!”

The person who decides that you should be the one on the chopping block is Kim Bora, who’s grinning at you from across the table, right in between Haena and Seohyun. Ah. You have a feeling where this is going. You suck in a deep breath and muster up all the patience in the world.

“How did you and Beomgyu manage to stay strong after all these years?”

Unfortunately, that amount of patience is very thin. Very thin indeed. Even more thinned out with the number of voices doubling, tripling it down.

“Oooh, I wanna hear too!”

“Yeah, what’s your secret, man? All my relationships end after three months, I feel like there’s something I’m doing wrong.”

“Tell us your secret!”

“What are you guys—”

That last voice came from Beomgyu, who you promptly stopped with the squeeze of his hand. Don’t say anything, don’t stop them, you say to him with narrowed eyes. He gives you a conflicted look, but he relents anyway, settling back down, but you can tell he’s worked up. Well, you just want to know how far they’re gonna take this. You want to know how much you can bite your tongue. You know you’ve always been prone to outbursts and impulse, but after all the shit you’ve been through these past two semesters, mindless, nose-digging gossip like this is nothing.

More than that, you want to know what this girl Haena is planning with how much she’s been giggling for the past minute and a half.  

“What are you saying, Bora? You’re so silly! Don’t you remember what we talked about with her before? They’ve never dated!”

And there it is.

“Huh?”

Haena’s statement drops a blanket of confused silence over the table. “What are you talking about?” one of your old classmates asks, and you want to echo the same sentiments because what exactly is she trying to achieve with this?

“C’mon,” Haena waves the silence off, still grinning, still sneaking glances at you. “You didn’t know? You guys were all being judgmental for assuming a boy and girl are dating just because they’re really close friends. Well, it’s not like they ever denied it. Oh, well but the truth is they were never dating. You two were never dating, right? Right?”

Ah. This is kind of pissing you off.

“Hey, that’s enough—”

Is this because you wouldn’t set her up with Beomgyu? Jesus, isn’t she over that already? Is she trying to frame you as some attention-seeker who thrived off the misunderstanding that you and your childhood friend have something more going on? Well, too bad. You’ve already been branded as a cheater and a whore. This is so juvenile that it’s starting to prick at the patience you’ve worked so hard to build up.

“Damn, seriously? So I stopped myself from confessing over nothing? If you two weren’t dating, how come neither of you said a thing?”

“That’s what I’m saying! Kinda crazy that they just let everyone misunderstand!” 

“Jesus, why are we even talking about this?” Seungmin attempts to dissuade the conversation, but the misfortune that comes after is Jimin accidentally adding fuel to the fire by letting slip the information you’d shared to him just moments ago.

“Right? Why does it even matter if they were dating or not back then? What’s important is that they’re both happily dating now!”

Another blanket of silence mops the table.

At this point, you just wanna go home.

“Ha!” A noise of disbelief rips out of Haena’s throat as sneers at you from across. “I can’t believe this! You kept saying and acting like you weren’t interested in him when you’d end up taking the opportunity, anyway! Wow, you acted so high and mighty back then, bragging that you didn’t have any feelings for him as if it made you better than the rest of us. If it’d end up like this, you should’ve just hooked up and gone after him ages ag—”

“For fuck’s sake, I’ve heard enough.”

The table rattles. Your eyes widen, snapping up to your left to see Choi Beomgyu who had stood up, who— for the first time in the years you’ve known him— looks mad. Angrier than when you two fought last year. Angrier than you think you’d ever been, even with your horrid short-temper.

His knuckles are tight. He’s seething. You’re too caught off guard to react in time and stop the damage he intends on making.

“Seriously. Why the fuck do you keep running your mouth about something that’s completely out of your business?”

It’s not only you. It seems that everyone is surprised to find the always easygoing, always friendly and outgoing Choi Beomgyu suddenly acting like this— acting like this on your behalf. “So what if we started dating? What’s it to you? What’s it to any of you?” You’re stunned. He draws his fingers to his hair. He shakes it off with an incensed breath. “Jesus christ. If you guys aren’t interested in talking about anything else other than our relationship, then I guess the both of us should just leave so that you can gossip more, yeah? Enjoy the rest of the damned night, assholes.”

When his head drops and his eyes make contact with yours, his gaze immediately softens. Let’s go, he mouths with a smile. You feel a lump in your throat. Beomgyu whisks you away before you can even acknowledge it.

“Whoa, that was scary.”

“Was he always like this?”

“You were the ones who crossed the line. What were you guys thinking?”

At some point, Beomgyu has completely dragged you out of the karaoke lounge, out of the hall, out of the hotel lobby, and into the dimly lit parking lot with nothing but a handful of streetlights illuminating the chalky pavement. You hadn’t even realized you’d been running until he stopped underneath the dancing particles of the ilt-up post, brightening up the empty parking space right next to his car. You hadn’t even realized you’d been catching your breath until he points it out for you

“Seriously, what the hell was wrong with people? Why can’t everyone just mind their own business and leave us—” The tempo of his rant fizzles out immediately. Beomgyu bites down a frown and pulls you in, brushing through the unkempt strands of your hair from the wind. “Sorry, was I running too fast? I just wanted to get you out of there as quickly as I can.”

Choi Beomgyu had confronted your old inhibitions on your behalf. He’d done the same thing with Jang Seung last semester. He’d done the same with his former friends that were talking shit about you and even got into a fight because of it. And it seems like the same thing is going to happen now.

It’s always him who does things for you. He was the one who took the first step in your reconciliation last year. He was the one who’d always put the entirety of his soft, tender feelings into the palm of his hands and handed them off to you without even expecting anything in return. 

Maybe it’s about time for you to do the same.

Maybe it’s about time for you to confront the one thing you’ve been confining in the back of your mind for god knows how long.

“Beomgyu.”

It’s always been there— since you were, what? Fourteen? Sixteen? Since he’d made you watch that stupid scary movie in middle school and your heart jumped out of your ribcage for the first time and all you could do was hold onto him for your dear life while you screamed bloody murder? You don’t know when these kind of thoughts started entering your head, but you never dwelled on them knowing and fearing that even considering them, acknowledging them in any way, shape, or form would open up a pandora’s box of emotions you’d have to sift through and organize alongside the fact that he’s just your friend, your friend for as long as you can remember, and you weren’t ready for it yet— even after what happened under the table on new year.

For your entire life, Choi Beomgyu has been a friend. A neighbor. An annoyance. Someone you care about. Someone you can’t live without.

And experiencing firsthand a life without his annoying presence always hovering around you cemented the fact that you really can’t risk losing him from your life again. And the likelihood of things going wrong, things getting tangled to the point where you’d have to cut each other off is less when he’s just your friend— just a neighbor, just an annoyance— than when he’s someone more than that.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to intervene.”

Which is why you feared that if you’d ever admit to yourself that you had feelings for him, that if you’d stopped brushing those feelings away, that risk of losing him would become more than you could handle.

“I just got too angry hearing them talk all that crap.”

But now—

“Ugh. Even thinking about it is making me mad. C’mon, let’s just go.”

You don’t have to keep lying to yourseff anymore. Because who gives a shit about what other people say? Because who gives a shit about risks and fears that are nothing but debris floating around your head?

“Let’s just go home, okay? Let’s head to car, and then—” He stops himself. He lets go of your hand to cup your cheeks, drying up the tears with the warmth of his fingertips. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Nothing is wrong. Because the only thing you give a shit about right now is the fact that the opportunity to love and be loved by Choi Beomgyu only comes once in a lifetime—

“C’mon. You should just forget what Haena and the rest of them said. They’re all nonsense.”

—and spending the entirety of it in denial would just be ridiculous.

“Oh, and now you’re laughing. You’re laughing and crying. Wow, you must’ve gone insane.

Stupid.

“What should I go? Go back? Should I teach them a lesson?”

Pointless.

“Stay here. I’ll go back and—”

Downright impossible.

“Hey, fuckface.”

You tug on his sleeve to stop him from leaving. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

And it feels like air is entering your lungs for the first like, as though twenty years worth of heavy leaden weight has been lifted off your chest. But unlike you, Beomgyo looks like he’s having troube breathing. “Oh,” is all he says, wide-eyed and surprised. Almost as if he’d never been expecting it. Like it had never even crossed his mind that you’d ever say it to him. You, of all people. “W—well—”

“Choi Beomgyu.” You interrupt him befre he could say anything, smacking your palms on both sides of cheeks before the adrenailne leaves your system. Before you could even think twice about anything at all. “I’m sorry I’ve never said it outright before even after we started dating. But you should know that you mean the world to me, you idiot. I’m so in love with you, it makes me stupid. I’m nothing without you.”

This time, it’s him who starts crying.

You let him sink into your arms and bury his face into your shoulder. He drapes himself over while keeping steady around your waist. You hear him sniffle a little. Gross. “Seriously, you’re such a crybaby.”

Beomgyu mumbles an annoyed grunt against your shirt. “And you’re such a meanie for ruining the moment.” He’s glaring at you when he pulls himself up, eyes narrowed and stained red with tears. “Say it again, dipshit.”

“Say what again?”

He frowns. “You know what!”

God. What could you have done in your past life to have been tied together with think punk since the beginning of this one? You roll your eyes and kiss his face. “I’m in love with you, loser. You’re so annoying.”

He grins and lands another one on your lips. “I’m nothing without you, too.”

The streetlight continues to sprinkle its light over the both of you. Choi Beomgyu continues to stay in your life, and he’d keep staying there for as long as this life would let him.

OKAY. MAYBE YOU DO LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. As annoying as he is for wasting your time with how often he calls you up at four in the morning for an impulsive fast food run because he wants some company, for injuring your pride by forcing you to play another one of the games the coding club developed and obliterating your ass in the process, you still like him— beyond understanding or comprehension. 

Even when he’s being such a clingy idiot so early in the morning, in the first day of the semester, after he’d just finished being announcing to the entire campus via the anonymous student board gone un-anonymous that you hadn’t been cheating on him since at that time you weren’t even dating, but you are now, and that you’re in love, and that Jang Seung is just a whiney little bitch who made up rumors because he couldn’t stand being rejected.

“You’re crazy! Why the hell would you do that?!”

Choi Beomgyu rubs his nose while you scold his ears off. When you finish, he simply says. “He made another post about you last night. I think it’s because he saw us on a date the other day. What a loser. Hey, look. That’s him over there.”

Indeed, you do spot Jang Seung while you trace down the hallway, on the way to Horangnabi to spend your vacant period in between your next set of classes.

“Ugh. Just what I needed to make my morning worse.”

He’s with a group, and the group contains Eunseok, the guy you went on a blind date with once and got roped into your whole cheating rumor. He looks greatly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because Jang Seung is talking shit about you and how the both of them got played by you (you did not) when you’ve been going out with Beomgyu this entire time (you were not). Eunseok knows the truth. You talked it out with him before the semester started and he figured you weren’t that kind of person anyway. 

Poor guy wants to leave already.

But Jang Seung seems determined to paint you as a crazy, cheating, boy-crazy whore. Did ignoring his texts for one night injure his ego that much? And here you thought you were prideful. You know that things have died down and at this point people have either forgotten about the whole thing or just don’t care anymore, but the small crowd Seung managed to collect still seemed to be thriving in all the overinflated gossip.

“I mean, if she wasn’t all that into me, she could’ve said so, you know? Still, can you believe she picked that guy over me or you? And the poor cuck even has the guts to publicly announce their relationship like some idiot after she’d been hooking up with his friends.”

“Damn. How are they still together?”

“Quit spreading lies, dude. ”

“Hey, how can you just trust everything she tells you?”

“I still can’t believe that those two are still together, much less even started dating in the first place.”

Normally, you’d just ignore this. But you’ve gotten a bit sick and tired of biting your tongue and behaving as of late.

You march up to them. Eunseok spurs out a greeting. You give all of them a smile— mostly directed at Jang Seung, who’s been relishing the fact that you never gave him the light of day since the stunt he pulled. Until today, at least.

“Hi,” you start. The guy flinches at your delivery. “As much as it surprises you, yes I’m dating Choi Beomgyu. Yes, we’re fucking together, and I never cheated on him with a some half-baked, second-string loser like this bastard who resorts to high school tactics of spreading gossip because his fragile ego couldn’t handle being left on delivered for one night because I had a hospital emergency. Unfortunately, someone like that isn’t my type at all.”

Jang Seung’s face flushes scarlet. His jaw clenches and he barks out, “Hey, what the fuck—” until Eunseok fixes him on the spot by the shoulder. 

“But just to clarify things. No, I have not been cheating on him and you’d think that if I had, he would say so, wouldn’t he? How the fuck could I have cheated on him last year when he only started dating on January first?” 

Okay. You’re getting a little heated. Jang Seung and his group are now staring at you like you’re a crazy person. Beyond them, other people in the hallway have started to pay attention to the ruckus you’re causing.

Now, when a fuse is lit, it’s not easy to kill it.

So you continue talking. For better or for worse.

“Yes. Yes, I’m now dating Choi Beomgyu— are you all satisfied? Are you happy now? You’ve all been up in my fucking business since the first fucking semester asking if I knew him, if he and I were dating, so here’s your god damned answer! Do you want me to tell you how it happened, too? Give you a play by play of how I met him, knew, him and fell for him because you’re all so fucking curious? Should I do that? In fact, why don’t I keep you guys posted! I should just text every single god damned person who knows not how to mind their business to update you whenever, each and every single time we fucking—”

“Whoa, easy there.”

You’re yanked back by Choi Beomgyu, who has one arm hooked in front of your collar shoulders and safely pressing you close to his torso. His free hand is covering the muffled noises coming out of your mouth as you struggle out of his grip.

Beomgyu simply lets you struggle in vain. He looks ahead, smiling at Jang Seung and the rest of the people in the group. “As much as I wanted to continue listening to her, I don’t really want any more people anonymously talking shit about my girlfriend in the forum just for living her own life and minding her own business.” You’re still squirming in his grip. This fucking bastard. “Anyway, we’re off. Eunseok, see you around.”

It’s only when you two have managed to leave the building that Beomgyu decides it’s time to release you. “Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, you jerk?” you yell, yanking him down by the backpack strap.

“What do you think? Saving your ass from any more rumors, stupid,” he answers while shaking you off. “We should really work on your temper.”

It’s a pleasant walk to Horangnabi. You haven’t been here again in ages.

“I have been working on it! Today was an exemption, so go fuck yourself off.”

“This is exactly what I mean,” he sighs and shakes his head, opening the cafe door for you to enter first, and he follows immediately after. “Potty mouth and a nasty personality. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your mother must have had a hard time raising you.”

“Quit bringing up my mother every single time you want to win an argument.”

You two find some empty seats right by the window in the right wing of the store. You sit down and set your things on the empty seats. “I can’t just give up on my cheat code, you know,” Beomgyu hums, smiling insufferably as slides the menu down from the table surface. “So, do I win? What’s my prize?”

“Hey, no PDA within store premises! I’ll blacklist you two!”

The both of you turn your heads to see Heeseung, who’s holding a notepad and wearing the employee apron as a uniform. He started working part-time at Horangnabi sometime last month. Extra pocket money, he says. You know it’s because he started seeing someone from the arts department and needed the date funds. Usually, he’d be happy to see you, but something’s gotten in his panties in a twist today. You snicker, about to egg him on, but to your surprise, someone else answers your curiosities.

“He’s just salty because he got dumped over the break.”

Your eyes brighten. You beam out a smile. “Julie!” 

She arrives with a pat on a grumbling Heeseung’s back as she mirrors your expression. “Hi, pretty girl. How was your break?” She moves on from Heeseung to coddle you with attention, hugging you from behind your chair. Have you considered working for us again? I started missing you more ever since this guy started working with us again.”

“Must be bad at the job,” Beomgyu snorts. Heeseung’s protests are left unheard. “Hey, when are you gonna take our order?”

“Ugh. I set you two up together and this is how you repay me?”

Heeseung takes your orders— an americano for him, a matcha latte for you, and a butterscotch croissant for you two to share. While waiting, Beomgyu takes out some of his notebooks from his bags and starts highlighting the pages based on the syllabus his professor handed them earlier. Wow, he’s become diligent, whereas you’re busying yourself with your phone in the midst of a conversation with Chaeryeong. She was so sorry for passing out in the middle of the reunion incident a few ago, and it was Seungmin who filled her in on what happened. She says gonna treat you to dinner this weekend to make up for it. You smile and text her that you look forward to it.

“Iced americano, matcha latte and butterscotch croissant.”

Hanbin is the one who delivers your orders. You thank him with a smile and he leaves with a pat on your head, telling you to come visit the clubroom later. 

“Stop smiling at him like that.”

You turn your attention back to the person sitting in front of you— Choi Beomgyu, with his arms crossed over the books scattered on his table, coupled with a pout and furrowed brows. “Ew, are you jealous?” you snark, picking up your latte from the table and taking a sip. “Wipe that look off your face. It doesn’t suit you. And Hanbin is way too nice and normal to be my type. Unfortunately, god made me like guys who are the slightest bit insane.”

“I keep your life interesting,” he hums out with a proud grin, satisfied with your answer. You set your drink back down, a thought entering your head. It’s quiet in Horangnabi. You two are the only customers at the moment, and soft music siphons through the speakers.

Ever since that day in the beginning of the year, not much has changed between you and him. He’s still calling you names. He’s still annoyingly hooking your feet underneath the table with his so that you’d have a hard time getting up.

It makes you wonder when exactly did he start seeing you differently.

“Beomgyu,” you start. He perks up, a curious expression on his face. “What if I tell you I’ve sort of already had the idea that you’ve had feelings for me since, I don’t know— when we made up after our fight last year?”

He blinks at you, curious expression replaced by something unreadable. You start to grow a little nervous. Then he drops the bomb.

“What if I tell you these feelings have been around since middle school?”

Well, damn.

“That...that would make a lot of sense.”

He only laughs in response, reorganizing his books and setting them aside. “But if you’ve known since then, then wooow— I can’t believe you’ve been leading me on for that long.” He’s shaking his head and clicking his tongue. You groan and cover your face guiltily. He laughs once more. “I’m kidding. It’s not like I didn’t put any effort into hiding it. I know how uncomfortable you got because of all the people gossiping about our relationship. I’d just make things even harder for you if I suddenly confessed.”

With the table now cleared, he slides down the untouched pastry to your side of the table.

“So, I just decided to try and hide it and wait for the right time. If that time ever would ever come, that is,” he continues. “But since you’ve known, I guess I wasn’t exactly doing a good job in hiding how I feel.” 

Your eyes linger at the crescent roll. You take the fork and knife and reply, “Yeah, you’re not very slick.”

“Hey, it was very hard for me, you know!” he huffs, pouting. You slice into the croissant and stab the smaller piece with the fork. “I felt like dying whenever you mentioned that bastard Seung or Song, or whatever. And you even asked me to set me up with my friends. You’re so mean—”

You reach an arm over the table. Beomgyu stares at your offering— a little surprised, a little flustered, but he clears his throat and leans forward, taking a bite from the pastry before wiping his mouth with a napkin, eyes down, face flushed.

He can be cute sometimes. You set the fork back down on the plate. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“T—tsk. I’m just cool like that, you know?” Still insufferable. You roll your eyes and grab a piece of the pastry yourself, but while the mood is still high, Beomgyu takes the opportunity to speak his own mind too, bringing up one more thing that had been lingering in the back of both of your minds. “That night— you know, on new year’s when you said that we should just start dating— I knew you just said it in the heat of the moment.” The pastry gets stuck in your throat. “And I knew at that moment that you’d end up taking it back as a joke and laugh it all off. I didn’t really want to hear that. So I just...decided to speak before you could take it back.”

Ah. Your face is getting hot. You swipe your drink from the table to swallow your emotions down. But Choi Beomgyu manages to snatch your hand before you could do that.

“And you didn’t take it back.”

Your flustered gaze flashes up at him. His eyes remain on you.

“So you just have no choice but to deal with all of this.”

He presses a kiss onto the back of your palm. You yelp and snatch your hand back, cheeks burning and heart racing. He’s grinning like a madman.

“Stop it! We’re in public. God, I hate you, you’re such a dweeb—”

You say you hate him, but he knows you don’t mean it. You’ve been saying all these years that you don’t like him, that he’s just an annoyance, destined to bother you until the end of time— but he’s come to know that none of that is true.

“No one’s here anyway! Heeseung doesn’t count as a person!”

You don’t have to keep pretending that you don’t like Choi Beomgyu. Because in fact, you kind of, really, do.

AFTERWORD. hello….whoo whee this was quite a ride wasn’t it HAHAHAHHAHA. 49k words of choi beomgyu being the only man ever 😞😞😞 anyhow, i hope you all enjoyed what i believe is my best piece yet!!! writing this was both extremely easy and difficult because hannie-dul-set enjoyers know that my brand is usually silly stupid fics, but the emotional weight of this one did make it a bit difficult for me to write sometimes since i’m a mood writer, even though none of the themes are inherently sad? just very very emotional HHAHAHAHA. two of the most challenging parts too in the planning process was how…i’d be able to depict a change in their relationship after the new year’s scene, while also making sure that beomgyu and mc’s dynamic is still…them, you know? it wouldn’t be them if they just became gross and lovey dovey overnight. it wouldn’t be them if they still didn’t call each other names and swore at each other’s faces despite being horrendously in love. but i think i managed to reconcile these two aspects pretty well in the fic.

the other challenging thing i had to tackle might have been a point of frustration for you guys— making sure that mc’s narration and monologue is completely devoid of any acknowledgement about her feelings for beomgyu and vice versa HAHHAHAHAHHA. but it was necessary because she herself didn’t want to acknowledge, even after they started dating, and the entire thing is written in her pov.

speaking of pov….i think a spin-off written in beomgyu’s pov would be nice after all of this. we only got some bits and pieces of how he’d been feeling all throughout and though i believe the limited information i’ve given is enough to give the idea on how beomgyu was faring all throughout, it would also be interesting to delve into his psyche, all the way from mogi to nabi.

anyhow, those are just empty plans for now HAHAHAHAHAH i hope you enjoyed all three parts of nabi— a sequel i never even intended to write in the first place, but ended up being one of my works that’s closest to my heart. please please do send in your thoughts in the comments, asks, dm’s, wherever!

happy new year! love you all!

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[faevi]

GOJO SATORU WAKES YOU UP - (smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru promised to help you wake up on time and fix your sleeping schedule. He decides to use his own methods. (SMUT).

Word Count: 3,890.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), somnophilia, cunningulous, finger sucking, gagging, tasting of oneself(?), fingering, squirting, praise, a little bit of degradation / humiliation, a sprinkle of possessiveness, hair pulling, marking with hickies, pet-names, slight size kink, gojo being hot?

Please let me know if i missed anything - if i have, it’s genuinely unintentional.

Note: As you can see, I'm slowly getting back into writing cause I miss it. So it might be a liiiiittle bit rusty. This is my first Satoru piece! I plan to write many more. This isn't proofread / edited - So please just ignore any mistakes lkdfgfd. I also tried to follow the aesthetic trends of how everyone posts their writing pieces?? Editing is hard. I hope someone reads this and likes it (: Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru’s warm gaze never left the bed. Even as he blindly wraps the leather strap around his wrist, long fingers sliding the strap through the metal half circle, prick poking into the hole and tightens the watch. He decided to let you sleep in for an extra hour as he prepared himself for work. It’s difficult for the tall male to not indulge in spoiling you, especially when you look so cute curled up and drool seeping out onto the pillow.

Still…. He made a promise to both himself and you that he’d help you improve your sleeping schedule and limit sleeping in. It pains his heart whenever he watches you get upset from wasting hours of your day. Satoru gently sprays his cologne, dabbing it against the sides of his neck and wrists before setting the fancy-looking bottle down amongst your many that he’s purchased for you. He checks the time on his watch, already unbuttoning the few buttons of his white dress shirt. It’s 8:10 AM and he has to leave soon.

The white-haired male opts out on waking you up in a usual loud-playful manner of his. Simply because, well, you’re looking too cute. Just how you manage to coax him into letting you sleep in without even having to lift a finger. Satoru approaches the shared bed, feet silent against the carpet floor before he lowers one knee against the mattress, feeling it sink beneath his weight as he leans down, large hand sliding from your waist to hug around your stomach.

“Baby, it’s time to wake up..” Satoru speaks softly, voice his usual low and soothing. He scatters kisses against your bare shoulder, fingers gently brushing against your stomach before his palm presses against it. You only stir a little in your peaceful slumber, curling up further and pitifully trying to pull the blankets over your head. Satoru snorts, endeared by how you are just not a morning person at all. His loving attempt was a failure and he watches as you continue to sleep, wondering what you’re dreaming about.

Strands of white hair fall over his crystal blue eyes as he presses his bigger form against you, almost smothering you but he keeps his weight off of you, trying to peek at your face beneath the blankets. “If you wake up now, I’ll take you out for breakfast.” Satoru offers, hands on your body stopping as he waits to see if that temptation would have gotten a response. Nothing. Only soft breathing. ‘How can someone be such a heavy sleeper’, he thinks in almost disbelief. Satoru rolls his eyes before he stands up at the edge of the bed, hands tucking into the pockets of his black slacks. The sadistic, playful side within him calls to rile you up in the early morning by yanking the blankets and dragging your body off of the mattress but…

His heart just squeezes at the sight of the bundle of blankets forming barriers around you. Nothing is tucked in tightly, thanks to the fun last night and so instantly, an idea pops into his head. He has access. Satoru is often fantasizing about you. Hell, it feels like it’s every second of the day. It’s a miracle that he’s even able to focus on work or crack a joke to annoy his co-workers. Satoru is just the best at multi-tasking and right now, he craves to devour you and wake you up… eventually. Technically it’s multi-tasking.

Satoru bends over, lifting the blankets up cautiously from the bottom until he could see your bare legs. His heart begins to thump faster with excitement at the thought of touching you when you’re at your most vulnerable; cock twitching in his slacks. He flicks the blankets over to keep your legs exposed, hands rolling up the sleeves of his tight fitted dress shirt before he lowers his upper body onto the mattress, one hand guiding the blankets over his head until he finds himself trapped between your legs, hungry gaze falling onto your pussy.

Even with the darkness clouding around him from the blankets, Satoru can see everything. Your cunt already lightly coated in a light sheen of slick. Appearing so inviting for the taller male. He groans quietly, large hands cupping the back of your thighs and pauses for a moment. You don’t even squirm from the new touch. Whatever you’re dreaming about must be good. That, or your trust in him is so deep that it reaches sleep. He guides your legs over his broad shoulders, shifting himself so his knees are planted on the carpet, the length of your legs staying over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across your smooth skin. His love-marks from last night only encourage him, lips latching onto your warm flesh to suck harshly to form another; now starting to feel you squirm a little.

You whine softly in your sleep, trying to roll onto your side but it fails as his strength easily keeps you flat on your back; body thinking nothing of it as you continue your peaceful slumber. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, though lips curled in amusement. “A sleeping beauty, all mine for the taking.” Satoru mumbles beneath his breath, fingers squeezing your flesh roughly before inching up until his long index finger glides between your folds. It slides so easily. Wet, already. He groans, pressing his crotch against the edge of the bed to try and contain himself. Invading your wet needy cunt with his cock would definitely wake you up but he thinks you need to earn it and you’re unable to do so in such a slumber.

Satoru is always in absolute awe when it comes to the sight of your pussy becoming so easily aroused just from his touch. Even as you sleep. Two of his fingers continue to cautiously glide up and down between your slick covered folds, grinning a little at noticing your thighs quivering from the careful touch. Even your hole clenches around nothing in response, desperate to be filled. Your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head into the pillow to lazily nuzzle against it in your sleep, inhaling the scent of the white-haired male that lingers. “Fuck, baby..” Satoru mumbles, two of his fingers pressing against your folds until they part to reveal your sensitive clit and needy hole. Strings of slick become visible and Satoru is always easily tempted. He drags his tongue between to break the strings, pleased by tasting you further.

With silent frustration towards the blankets hiding your face, Satoru swiftly yanks them off until the pair of you are exposed, blankets discarded on the floor. He coos mockingly as you begin to shiver from the cold. “Poor baby girl, needs warming up.” He whispers, toned arms wrapping around your thighs to keep them in place over his shoulders. Your inner thighs squeeze against his face, piercing blue eyes focusing on your sleeping face as he quickly dives in to devour you, growling lowly. His lips pressing sweetly against your sopping pussy, wet muscle dragging between your folds, moans muffled as he taste your sweet juices on his daring tongue. His mind going wild with the idea of what he could do to you as you sleep so deeply. It tempts him so much that Satoru thinks of testing further other times.

A whimpering moan parts from your sleeping lips, face scrunching up as pleasure spreads through your body from your core, fist bunching the sheets up. You stir in your slumber only slightly and for once, Satoru is glad you don’t wake up instantly. He feels powerful, being able to touch and kiss you when you’re completely vulnerable but still feeling the absolute bliss that is his tongue. Short nails dig into your thighs, pressing his face further between your legs as his open mouth makes out hungrily with your cunt. He could barely breathe from how firmly he’s pressing his face into your core, only inhaling the scent of your sex. His tongue laps up your sweetness before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to your throbbing clit, sucking harshly and tongue rubbing against the bud until he feels your legs tense up and tremble, pitifully trying to contain the ecstasy you begin to feel from his eager mouth never parting from your lower lips.

Tongue swirls around the nub lightly between his needy kisses, juices smearing across his handsome face. Blindly, your hand reaches down towards the source, fingers threading through his white hair. You begin to wake up. Slowly. Not truly able to get out of your slumber but, you feel the sweet pleasure wash over you constantly and your mind begins to seek for answers. “A-Ah… Wha— Nn…” You moan out, unable to form words from the cloud of sleepiness hanging over your head. What is going on? Something feels so good… You could barely lift it off of the pillows, eyes glancing down. You feel face get hot when realisation starts to hit you; Satoru is gazing back up at you. The piercing blue eyes wide and manic with a mixture of excitement & hunger. He’s eating you out like a starved man.

Satoru barely lifts his mouth to speak, voice dripping with lust and sounding breathless. “Good morning, princess. Finally awake, huh? Took me to touch your needy cunt for you to wake up? Filthy. My dirty little slut, hm?” The degrading words slip out through a teasing purr, prompting your free hand to pathetically try to cover your face. You feel your heart flutter, head dizzy with lustful thoughts. Drowsiness hands over your head but, it doesn’t stop your cravings starting to form. You couldn’t deny that the sadistic ways Satoru shows only causes your pussy to clench around nothing; wishing to be stretched out by his thick, pulsating cock.

“Nn, ‘toru, please—”

“No cock for you.”

He could practically read your mind by knowing you too well. That’s what you get for refusing to wake up in the first place, you suppose. Especially since you begged him to help you fix your awful habit. Satoru may love to spoil you, shower you in love and pleasure but, he can be almost scary with how firm he is with punishments. This isn’t the worst and so you accept it. You pout sleepily, eyes droopy as you watch the tall male bury his mouth against your wet cunt against, flustered by the sounds of just how excited your body is. It’s an addicting sight to see. A tall man lapping up your slick, groaning quietly from the delicious taste of you. He could taste you for hours on end if he could. Moans of his name part from you as you feel his tongue rub relentlessly against your pulsing clit, slurping loudly as his lips move against your folds, drinking every drop that dares to seep out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Satoru groans, lips dragging down until his tongue teases your hole. You see stars, gasping sharply as you pull on the strands of his silky white hair.

Satoru groans from the ache he feels, head tilting back away from your hand to feel more of the painful tug, tongue licking over your fluttering hole, gently prodding at it. You anticipate it and, that’s why Satoru pulls away. He’s kneels up and grins down at you, admiring the way your body trembles so cutely beneath him. Your slick is dripping down his chin, coating his lower face. Your face falls from the loss of pleasure, attempting to whine in complaint. “Satoru, come on…” It does nothing, asides from making his cock strain even further against his slacks. Satoru takes his sweet time, wiping his face with his hand, watching as a string of your mess connects his fingers together.

“Dirty girl.” He comments before bringing his hand towards your face. “Open wide.” Satoru orders, voice smooth and instantly, you part your lips to happily take his long fingers into your mouth. Even this is spoiling. Satoru knows you have a wild fetish for his hands and so, if it’s not his cock that you can take; you’ll eagerly take his fingers down your throat. Your needy moans are muffled as you suck your own sweetness off of his fingers. The pads of his fingers press against your soft wet muscle, sliding them further down and watches intently as you swallow around them, his gaze darkening. Your throat muscles constrict around the invasion, causing you to gag audibly but you continue to suck like the filthy whore you are for this man.

“So good for me, aren’t you? Taking everything I give you.” He speaks soothingly, his free hand caressing your stomach. His other hand continues to slide long, slender fingers in and out of your mouth. You whimper, looking up at him with an ‘innocent’ gaze as you continue to obediently suck, only able to taste yourself, few droplets escaping down your chin. Satoru feigns calmness, checking the time on his watch. You couldn’t help but think how hot it is when he even checks the time. You’ve fallen that deep for the tall male. He’s definitely going to be late to work. Frankly, he doesn’t fucking care. They need him more than he needs them. What he truly needs? You. Always. Every shape and form. Still, this isn’t about him and so with every fibre of his being, Satoru ignores his cock, even though it throbs badly & craving to be touched.

“If you promise me to wake up properly when I wake you, I’ll let you come.” Satoru promises, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, thumb swiping gently against your lower lip. “P-Please, I promise! I’ll wake up on time, I swear.. I’ll listen to you, always. Please.” You beg, voice raspy from the lack of talking and having fingers deep down your throat. “Okay, baby~.” He coos, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your soft tiers, unable to deny how cute you are when you beg for him. You could smell is heavenly cologne gently waft over you from how close he is. One of your favourite scents. “Still, no cock.” He whispers breathlessly against your lips, hand trailing down to between your legs. You pout at him from denying you his cock once more, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close.

He lovingly rubs his nose against yours, obliging your clinginess by keeping his bigger form pressed against you in an embrace, scattering kisses against your jawline as his long fingers meet your needy core once more. He doesn’t tease you by dragging out his time with you, two of his fingers rub against your quivering hole before finally pushing in slowly. They slide in so easily. Even if it’s just his fingers, Satoru groans at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls cling around his digits, squeezing. Your breathing becomes erratic from feeling the sweet stretch around his digits; nothing compared to the entire length of Satoru’s thick cock but, his fingers still feel so heavenly inside of you. You briefly wonder if you could just live your life with a part of him always inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him, upper body rising off of the bed and his free arm wraps around you to keep you pressed against him, soft lips still attached to your jawline, sucking firmly enough to leave a bruise. Another possessive mark to wear with pride. His long fingers pump deep inside of you, feeling them drag along your warm slick walls as they push in and out. Moans just spill from you and Satoru feels so damn aroused just from how needy and precious you sound. Your slick already dripping onto the sheets as he continues to pound his fingers into your tight cunt roughly, angling them until—

“Oh!” You gasp sharply when a jolt of ecstasy rushes over your entire body, upper body jerking upwards from the sudden sensation. Satoru knows where to find your sweet spot quickly and is already eager to abuse it until he witnesses pretty tears in your eyes, sobbing his name out over and over like your own prayer. The white-haired male keeps you trapped beneath his large frame, plunging his fingers desperately, rubbing against your g-spot and keeping his blue eyes focused on your visage. Fuck, it really turns him on to see your face scrunch up and mouth hanging open as you’re unable to contain yourself, crying out for him.

You choke on a sob, toes curling against the crinkled sheets and bare breasts jiggling from the impact of Satoru’s fingers moving, encouraging your hips to move as you grind down onto them. You feel complete bliss, not able to feel flustered like usual from the wet squelching sounds of your throbbing pussy. Pleasure in the form of electricity just shoots through your body, trying so hard to contain yourself by tensing up. Satoru knows you’re pathetic when it comes to that. It’s adorable, really. He enjoys watching you try to hide how good it feels before you’re babbling out his name, screaming for him.

Just as you are now. From his fingers alone. You bite down on his shoulder, trembling hands holding onto him as you cry out for him, tears glued to your long pretty lashes. Your stomach is feeling so hot and tight, throbbing walls clenching around his relentless fingers. “Sweet girl, need to come?” Satoru chuckles softly, warm breath fanning against the side of your face. The free arm holding himself up aches a little but that is nothing compared to his strength. Though, he knows you’d probably love being smothered by his larger body; Satoru selfishly wants to witness it all. Witness you come undone by just his digits.

You whimper, deliberately squeezing around his fingers to coax out a grunt from him. It’s true. He can read you so well because you really do need to let go. Be broken in by the man. There’s an unspoken rule between you both and that is waiting on his permission. He loves how obedient you get for him in the bed. So fucking cute and sweet. He drags it out a little longer, not quite done with you. He grinds his fingers into you, now pressing his palm against your sopping pussy and makes contact with your overly-sensitive clit.

“Ah, fuck! Please!” You plead breathlessly, a hand coming down to weakly hold onto his wrist but neither of you refuse to stop him. Satoru peels himself off of you, creating more distance between your body and you could see his eyes cloud darkly with desire for something. “Come for me.” Satoru orders, free hand pressing against your stomach, the fingers deep in your core now rapidly moving up and down. You pant heavily, feeling your high swiftly approaching as you try to lean up on your elbows, thighs squirming. Everything feels so damn hot and sensitive, it’s a miracle you’re not snapping your legs shut on his hand as you usually can’t help it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuu—‘Toru!!” You cry out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure now constantly crash down over your body, leaving you trembling hard, eyes rolling. Satoru is quick to slide his fingers out to watch the heavenly sight he’s been craving for; you squirting. Fuck, he thinks. He’s panting himself as your sweet juices spurt out in lots, gushing hard all over the bed and his work slacks. “Squirting all over me, filthy girl.” He groans, not daring to blink. ‘Do not dare miss a moment’, he thinks. Your hips snap upwards, chasing the addicting high as your wetness continues to spill out. Tears escape, sobbing out for the white-haired male, body feeling so hot and tingly.

Satoru coos at the adorable sight of you coming undone from his mouth and fingers. Large hands caressing along your sides, not daring to hold you down through your orgasm. He enjoys it far too much as you tremble and cry for him. “Good girl..” He praises, one hand coming to stroke your hair, peppering kisses against your bare shoulder. His office clothes are a mess now, your fluids soaked in patches against his black slacks. He didn’t care. He loves you too much. Satoru lays next to you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in and lips cautiously brushing away your pretty tears, mixing in with the taste of your sweetness that lingers on his tongue. You slur out a whine when you feel his tongue against your face, body still trembling gently as it naturally comes down from the high. You feel so sensitive. No one else has ever made you feel anything this good until Satoru.

Satoru…

You just always crave to be with Satoru. Body, soul, heart & mind. This is where you belong. You lean back into his loving embrace, smiling from the multiple kisses that he presses to the top of your head, trying to look up at him through droopy eyelids. You could feel his bulge pressing against your backside. “Well, I’m awake now.” You joke sheepishly, prompting the male to snort and roll his eyes. “Didn’t take much to wake you, just my face buried between your legs. Should have tried that from the start, knowing how needy you are for me.” Satoru teases sweetly, lips curled to form a cocky grin. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, rolling over to bury your face into his firm chest, slowly gliding your hand down towards his crotch. His large hand smothers yours, stopping your movement and you pout. He’s still firm on the ‘no cock’ rule this morning for refusing to wake up, much to his dismay. His length aches from no action. You press an apologetic kiss to his broad shoulder, voice quiet.

“Don’t you need to leave for work? You’re already late.”

“Nah, they can wait a little longer. I’m with my girl.”

You smile at that, always feeling spoiled by him. You giggle softly, ignoring how sticky your legs feel as you tangle them with. He gazes fondly at you, arm draped over your side. His sweet girl. All his. He presses his lips to your cheekbone. It’s moments like these, that you really adore. Silence can even be comforting with the white-haired male. Satoru is in love with you. The warmth in his eyes will never fade, even if he’s feeling particularly nasty to ruin you in bed. His crystal blue eyes refuse to leave you, fingers splaying across your naked back, nails dragging over the hot skin. He clears his throat, trying to bite back a smug expression.

“So, Y/N. Dick for dinner tonight?”

You burst out with laughter, nose scrunching slightly. “Come on.” You say, sitting up and taking hold of his hand, fingers interlocking. You could feel your dried up slick causing his hand to become sticky. “Washing hands and breakfast first. I want your famous pancakes.” You express with a loud kiss to his cheek. Satoru puffs out his chest proudly before helping you off the bed, unbothered by the still wet patches on his slacks. It’s a pleasant reminder, after all.

“Anything for my princess.”

[anemoiashifts]

december shifting pick an object reading !

hello ! happy almost christmas to those who celebrate i thought id continue with a general shifting reading & maybe some messages from people in your desired reality. i thought last months reading was a little to general for my liking, so i will be trying to add as much detail / specifics as i can to solidify the feeling that this is made for you.

as always please please don’t force messages to resonate. i do these on the first of every months so they’ll be many more chances to feel connected to a reading if these ones don’t do it for you :) !

bunny ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🐇 !

signs : pineapples, snoopy, stained clothing, missing buttons, mars, tree stumps.

you are currently going through some sort of “seasonal depression; some sort of funk. as of recent, you’ve been comparing yourself to your peers. seeing how much they can do & are capable of, it makes your (feelings of) lack amplify & hurt even more. maybe you have some sort of codependent relationship or always feel the need to confide in others approval before a task is complete ? this month you’ll find the motivation to learn new skills & plant the seeds that are needed to trust yourself.

this boils over into your outlook on shifting. people seem to fall into boxes of where they want to shift, have methods that have worked for them, have made a decision in what they’d like to experience in their desired reality. it’s not that you lack a direction, you may know where you’d like to shift. more so an indecisiveness on what you actually want. you want to shift yes, but when you really think on it, you’ve become comfortable where you are. you could struggle to see yourself shifting at all as you are a more analytical person. your someone who is very fact based, you could enjoy doing research & weighing all options before making a decision. things need to make perfect sense to you before you believe in them. this mindset only feeds into what ive mentioned above & could circle back to your feelings of being directionless. the main thing you need is clarity for your manifestations & desires.

this person is someone who is very likely defensive of & true to their beliefs; someone stubborn. birds or turtles may be relevant to them. what this person wants to remind you is consistency is key. you may jump from one project to another without finishing the last; which leaves you as someone who knows a lot of different skills / has aloe of hobbies. you don’t have to be perfect to start something & continue with it. very few people do things the first time & it comes out just how you imaged it. focus on the quality of information rather then the quantity. take this month to create a vision board of some sort. write down what you’d like to accomplish by the end of the upcoming year.

otter ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦦 !

signs : greek lettering, pink slippers, butterfly earrings, long black wrap coats.

in your head, you have “unfinished business” to attend to. so, shifting has been kept on hold for a very long time — years for some of you. it’s always “ill try and shift after i finish my work” or “ill shift when i improve my sleep schedule”. while it’s good to have goals, you’re allowed to work on multiple things at once as long as you balance the two. take this time to reevaluate your priorities & consider what is helping or hurting you. are you really putting off shifting because your room isn’t clean and you have done laundry yet and you have a research paper ? or are you simply not in the mood for it as your mind has wandered else where. do you desire to go to a reality that you have built up in your head or have you grown out of it & would rather fall in love with another desired reality ?

there could also be some sort of desire not to shift at the moment. perhaps you like the holidays & you’re excited for them ? you’re in a stable place right now & shifting is something you fall back onto in times of distress ? however you look at shifting & where you want the future of your relationship to be with the practice later down the line, take time to nurture that vision for yourself.

this person could be someone from your family in your desired reality or a person you would consider family, even if not by blood. this person is a little bit of a player & like you, has moments of lack of direction. while this person can be hotheaded, it’s a good reminder to slow down before lashing out on others. your insecurity doesn’t grant you the right to think negatively of other people. through these moments, this person notices that you struggle to see clearly & your tendency to obsess over small things. focus on the bigger picture.

deer ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ 🦌 !

signs : 88 or 888, farmers markets, lillie’s, historical landmarks, purple lip gloss.

you’re not the kinda person people look at & think that you haven’t been through a lot. on the outside, you look fine. you’ve been very lucky in a lot of ways & you’re able to hold everything together really well.

often a front for something being repressed, you often have an “i don’t care” attitude or come off as really easy to be around & agreeable. you’re someone who doesn’t quite know yourself entirely. while, you recognize you’re a kind person & a good friend, you struggle with a fear of judgement & being ostracized from certain groups if they “knew the truth”. you could’ve or used to have some unconventional hobbies or are into certain subcultures that aren’t the norm.

your desired reality could be a wanted but a shamed one by nobody other then yourself. you have a love of the place of where you’d like to shift but the shame of admitting to yourself that you do consider yourself a shifter, can be a hard to accept. you’re probable someone who lives in constant fear of being “outed” as a one. you’ve gone through the ritual of blocking everyone you know in your personal life & making a mental note of not keeping physical scripts laying around. maybe shifting as a while feels a little elementary to you. even if it isn’t the practice, it could be the places you’d like to shift itself that allow these thoughts to conjure up inside your head. if you are able to work on quieting that noise of shame & insecurity, you will soon have your desired fulfilled. — as I was typing & the time 11:11 appeared on my desktop if that number means anything to you.

the main thing somebody from your desired reality wants you to know is to listen to your dreams. your dreams are apart of your subconscious & your subconscious holds the key to how you operate. if your circadian rhythm is off, take this as a sign to start to get it back on track. i really couldn’t get a read on who this person was, so i assume whoever your thinking of is this person or they prefer to remain anonymous.

thank you for reading. i hope something was able to resonate with you ! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

[sweetlady555]

My Personal Solar Return Observations Pt I

I just got into astrology more and I’ve been suupeerrr into solar return observations lately and this is what I have observed from my own chart! My birthday was 2 months ago and the solar return is SOLAR RETURNING .

Moon in 8h in Aquarius SR - TONS of family secrets coming to the surface. Almost concerning? . Im finding out soo much stuff about my parents . My home environment is also changing a lot, my dad used to be home a lot and now my dad has like completely abandoned me lmaooo . such a strange uranus energy since aquarius is ruled by uranus . Ive been feeling more independent lately and sometimes I dissociate and pretend im living in LA in my own studio alone and away from my unstable family 😍….. I have my chart ruler in here too haha (pray for me) 😊 so this year is definitely going to be transforming AF . Im sensing it everything feels too intense lately 👁️ ..

Cancer Rising SR - I’ve been dealing with a lot of family stuff over the years (toxic relationships that r still ongoing lmaoaoa) and im noticing that instead of digging myself deeper or being depressed, i’ve been nurturing myself more and turning my space into a cozy sanctuary and not into some bed rotting mess😹. Ive been improving my current living situation compared to the past so theres definitely nurturing myself more , saying affirmations in the mirror , working on my self care , getting offered help from my step-family.

Sun in 12H in Cancer SR - I got into astrology a lot of spiritual stuff . Also communicating with my spirit guides more often etc .. I definitely do feel more connected to my spirit guides now I feel im being guided and protected a lot this year . everything feels like its just meant to happen and i mean that in the best way . Getting vivid dreams, ive been writing them down more a lot lately and they’ve been giving me insights on my subconscious and even slight deja vu? I remember I dreamt of me and my dad in my aunts car and 2 days later she had called me and gotten upset because my dad took her car and hadnt brought it back after she let him borrow it for a few hours. Even though my sleep schedule is so bad i love dreaming more now because the universe always gifts me with something meaningful and beautiful in my dreams🙏. Also I been listening to music like A Looottttt more lately EVEN WHEN IM ASLEEP😭 im like oohhh whos playing this banger and i wake up and its just music thats been on shuffle for the past 9 hours 💀

Venus 12H in Cancer 10° SR - finding out what i want in relationships , although i do feel like its becoming hard to connect with others in that way ..? does that make sense ? ive been doing lots of self love affirmations that my dreams consist of love and harmonious energies 😹sometimes ill think about love and a boyfriend and really want it but the next day ill be like wow i love myself so much i really cannot see myself with anyone😇.. lots of creative solitude , being more open to recieve love from my family members AFTER REFUSING multiple times ( it makes me icky sometimes still ) learning compassion and forgiveness for others , im a scorpio moon in my natal so ive held grudges since 6th grade i never cared 😭😭😩.. but this venus in 12h is like reversing the effect… 👁️💧

Venus Conjuct Asc in Cancer SR - GLOW UP PLACEMENT 🙏 i was sexy before but its like my sexiness increased by like 10x . People are noticing it too!! i got told “bros evolving” on one of my posts 😭😭 I also feel like im finding my own personal style aswell! . I also see my body changing (in a good way)

Sun conjuct Asc in Cancer SR - confidence on 1000!!! feeling self assured , nobody can really tell me anything bad about me TO ME and think ILL believe it cuz i wont!! i know who i am thankqqq😛

Mercury 1h in Cancer SR - i feel like this placement helped add onto me becoming so self assured in myself and figuring out who i truly am . Ive been studying and researching about myself a lootttt too !! Ive been getting a lot of gut feelings and just proceeding with them and usually i wont and ill just go with logic but idgaf anymore because usually these gut feelings usually lead to something so worth the outcome whether it may look good or bad!

Mars 11h in Taurus 12° SR - I have lots of amazing goals and things im looking forward to for this year!! I feel so eager to just GO FOR IT but taurus is a slow and steady sign so thats just how i been moving lately .. in silence too cuz there be haters all around 🤐

Pluto 7h in Aquarius 1° SR - ive been unfriending a lot of people to make new friendships idk if thats a bad thing but all the past people i feel are secretly plotting against me… most likely that 1° because i heard that could represent enemies? take that with a grain of salt but anyway ive been more clearer about what i want in friendships aswell which is goal oriented people who just want to get rich and make something for themselves!!! Im tired of the self limiting beliefs and the envy!!!

Saturn 9h in Pisces 19° SR - I start my senior year this month and I plan on graduating early , saturn rules discipline and structure but also setbacks . i feel like this school year although i have that vision i feel like im gonna have to put a lot of work this year lmao i hate school so much i was supposed to go to summer school but i ended up not going to get my mind right before the school year started which has really helped tho imo . i wanted to drop out but at the same time my pride is too high and i feel like this is a great opportunity to build discipline, time management and responsibility for the goals that ill have after i graduate. ive already been setting the milestones and all which is the saturn and pisces influence comin thru 🙏

Neptune 9h in Pisces 29° SR - the 29° usually the “fame indicator degree” can also represent a start to completion/ending of something , since i would be focused on graduating early for my senior year i could see this as me graduating early and completing that academic journey and preparing and embracing a new journey . i feel like this would most likely be spiritual because i caaannooottt focus on school and astrology and spirituality all at the same time because 9 times out of 10 my focus is on astrology and spirituality i needa get my priorities straight😭😩😹..

Just wanted to note this but while reading your SR chart its important to look at your South Node aswell because it can show you what lessons and patterns you need to review / past influences & comfort zones . 1h nn = 7h sn , 2h nn = 8h sn , 3h nn = 9h sn , 4h nn = 10h sn , 5h nn = 11h sn , and so on

North Node 10h in Aries&South Node 4h in Libra - The SN 4h Libra and NN 10H Aries could show that I have to balance my growth and comfort and moving towards new opportunities. With South Node in the 4H in Libra, I may find myself relying on familiar comforts from my past . The south node here might show that I might fall back into old family dynamics . my step family is offering for me to move in with them to help me get back up on my feet and this is such a good opportunity but they did this before though last year and I ended up moving back with my neglectful dad and I just fell depressedddddd . ill prolly release my old patterns where I would be moving away from family support because last year my mom offered to help me and support me and i ended up being manipulated and i fell depressed again then went to my step dad for help so i can get ahead and i went back with my dad and got even more depressed lmaoo but ill see how this ends up playing out. With the north node in the 10h in aries , i’ve been really focused on building my own unique self image instead of just catering to what others expected of me . Ill be looking forward to the goals I have planned out while actively working on them . With the influence of Aries too, bold and courageous, I’d most likely be taking risks to pursue my goals and stepping out my comfort zone. Probably by being SO FED UP with my controlling dad that I just take that leap 💯

this is my first observation post i was gonna go to sleep but i was dedicated to finish this tonight, i hope this was insightful to many of you and may this year bring all of us sweet blessings ⭐️

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Traitor

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.9k Warning : Cliffhanger (sort of). Not proofread as always. Synopsis : As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away. Notes : Inspired by this request and Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor. Pretty sort as I don't know if anon would like a happy or sad ending? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that when he pulled that stunt at the Great Hall, proclaiming his feelings and just how desperate he’s been to get her attention, that it was only a projection of the words he wanted to confess to another. She should’ve known that when he looked at her with those eyes that were filled with love, it would never compare to the affection he hoards for another. She should’ve known that with every promise, every sweet nonsense he whispered to her ears, they were truly addressed for another.

The signs were laid bare for her to see. From the way he stopped holding her hands in the hallway to making up excuses and cancelling their dates. His kisses have turned into quick pecks before they’re gone altogether. The jokes he used to share have stopped coming. Dissipating into thin air with no warning.

Supposedly it was her fault. She should’ve said something, calling him out from the lack of effort he’s been showing but she knew she was pulling on a thin thread. Their relationship has always been based on a frail foundation. She knew that deep down there was no other woman that could topple his first love, so she kept quiet. Crying herself to sleep and praying to whoever might listen out there to help salvage their relationship. Anything to keep him just a little bit longer.

“Love, you left your hair tie in my room,” James says once he takes a seat, busying himself with the stack of pancakes in front of him.

She takes the unassuming item and examines it. This hair tie wasn’t hers. She doesn’t have bright orange hair ties, “This isn’t mine, James.”

“Oh,” He responded, taking the item and placing it in his pocket nonchalantly “Must be Lily’s then.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, we had an impromptu study session last night after our rounds. She helped me with my potion essays.”

“But we promised to do that essay together,” She says, forcing a smile as she tries her best to conceal her disappointment and heartbreak “I waited for you to have some free time so we can work on it together.”

“Yes well, like I said, it was an impromptu session. We finished our rounds earlier than expected so we figured we could use the free time to do the assignment.” He explained, still oblivious to the harm done to her heart “Shouldn’t you be proud I’ve finally managed to finish an assignment earlier than due? This is a huge improvement for me, don’t you think?”

Her head nods, another pretend smile decorating her face. James looks happy and proud of his achievement. It was true. When else would you find James Potter diligently working his schoolwork? He’s always been one of those students who waits for the adrenaline rush of working everything at the last minute. He’s brilliant, perhaps too brilliant to ever spare an hour in revising his notes and making flashcards for the upcoming exams, so this certainly is a huge improvement to celebrate for. If only it wasn’t because of Lily.

“You’ve been spending more time with Lily, lately.” She points out. Her hands were shaking, knowing that the pool she’s stepping in might be deeper than it seems and she might not know how to swim to the shore but she needed to start somewhere. She needs to save their relationship somehow.

James’ brows furrow, a slight sign of disagreement, “Not really. Our rounds just happened to be scheduled together a lot this month.”

“Well, you also cancelled our study date last week for her.”

“Yeah, that’s because she needed my help with Divination.”

A rude laughter escapes her, “You’re the worst from our House in Divination, James. She doesn’t need your help.”

“Where are you going with this?” He finally snaps, turning to face her with evident annoyance in his eyes “I thought you would be happy with me finally trying to fix my grades.”

“I am. I just didn’t realise that needed to be done by increasing the amount of time you share with your ex-crush.”

“Oh, so you’re jealous?”

She was quiet now. Sure it was jealousy that plagued her mind the first time he began drifting away but these days, these days she’s only been insecure and worried for their sinking ship. Anxiety over the chance of her being replaced by someone who has always had his heart has been haunting her nights. As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away.

“You’re being paranoid, again.” James scoffs, turning completely blind and deaf to her silent agony “There’s nothing going on between me and Lily. I’m trying to fix my grades for me. She just happens to be a great teacher and companion to help me study.”

She's still quiet, weighing if she should believe his words.

"Please, I don't want to fight," James sighs, dropping the fork on his hand and taking hers to show his sincerity "She's just a friend, I promise."

There was truly nothing left for her to say that wouldn’t act as petrol to their burning bridge. James wasn’t listening. For a while now he hasn’t truly cared about a word she’s said and it was painful to finally understand this. That he might never have been as sincere as she thought him to be. Or perhaps he did, once, yet that feeling has died a long time ago with no chance of revival. His feelings for her have withered, faded into nothingness.

And it’s only a matter of time before the flame in her heart dies too.

—-

It was a nasty fall.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much worry and cried so much from something Madam Promfrey claims as ‘nothing but a light nudge on the head’, but she was there when the bludger hit his head. She was there when James began losing balance of his broom and falling to the hard ground. She was there when the team crowd around their passed out captain.

Her eyes were getting heavy now. The watch on her wrist has shown that she has skipped dinner a few hours ago. Some of the lights on the hospital wing have been turned off, making the hall darker as night falls deeper. If it wasn’t for the boys coming to visit James half an hour ago, she would be left starving and secretly creeped out by the eerie feeling of the infirmary.

“You should get some rest, Love, you’ve been waiting here for hours.” Remus advises, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze.

“He should be up anytime soon, now,” She reasoned as she looked up to see the tall boy “I want to be there when he wakes up.”

“Trust me, Dove, knowing Prongs, he might just sleep in till tomorrow,” Sirius added “Besides, you won’t miss a thing. He’ll still be the same obnoxious Potter tomorrow morning.”

A small curl of smile tugs on her lips.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Peter offers this time.

“You don’t have to, Wormy. I’m fine—”

“Dove, please,” Sirius begs “You look awful. And I mean this in the most endearing way but you could really use a bath.”

“Thank you, Pads,” She rolls her eyes, finally standing from her seat and glaring at the raven haired boy “Your honesty is always something I could count on, even in the darkest time.”

Sirius grins, nodding, “I am a man of honour.”

“Let me know if anything happens? If he wakes up?”

“We will,” Remus reassures “Goodnight, Love.”

With a last bid of hug and ignoring the still awful churning feeling in her gut, she links arm with Peter and walks out of the hospital wing. It’s been hours since she’s waited for her boyfriend to wake up from his sleep and the fatigue plaguing her body has only been recognised as she takes further steps away from the infirmary. Perhaps the worry has amplified the soreness of her muscles. It’s never an easy life dating the Captain of Gryffindor team.

She hates to admit it, but she might really need that bath Sirius was talking about.

And just when they were about to exit the tower, her brain reminded her of her left satchel, “Shoot, I forgot something.” She groans, letting out a frustrated sigh “Give me ten minutes?”

“Is it that important?” Peter asks “We can just bring it to you later.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise. I have to finish my paper for the first period tomorrow, I need to get my satchel.”

Peter only nods at her as she begins running back to the ward. Truth be told, she’s finished the paper as she waited for James earlier. Leaving her satchel was completely by accident and she could’ve just continued walking back to her dormitory and ask the boys to bring it to her later, but why would she pass up a chance to see her boyfriend one last time?

“So did she come?”

A smile blooms on her face as she hears James’ voice echoes faintly. He’s up.

“Of course she did, she waited for you for hours.” Sirius answers “She’s your girlfriend, Prongs, she never left.”

“Oh,” James answered, the disappointment dripping from his tone slows down her steps “I was asking about Lily, actually.”

There was a pause. She could see Sirius and Remus exchanging a glance from behind their backs. If it wasn’t for the curtain blocking James’ view, he would’ve seen her coming.

“So did she come?” James asks again.

“No, Prongs. Why would she come?” Remus asks, his tone slightly rising in annoyance.

“I don’t know,” James answers “I thought we were getting closer. I just figured she’d want to check on me.”

“Well, she didn’t,” Sirius says this time, the same level of irritation evident in his tone “Why are you even thinking of her? You have a brilliant girlfriend who cares for you. Who literally spent hours sitting on that awful chair, worried about your bonked head, and the first thing you asked about when you woke up was Lily?”

“It was just a question, Pads. No need to get all worked up on me.”

“Well, your question is rubbish, Prongs.”

“Why are you—”

“Hey guys,” She says, finally showing herself from behind the curtain “Sorry, I left my satchel. Oh, hello James, you finally woke up.”

She could see the surprise on James’ eyes that he quickly blinked away with a sweet smile, “Hello, Darling.”

“I’m glad you’re up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Still dizzy, but I’ll live.” He says warmly “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Uh, no, I need to finish my papers.” She says instead, fighting the loud ringing in her ears from the heartache “Besides, you need all the rest you could get. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“But you wouldn’t—”

“I really need to go. Peter is waiting for me,” She cuts in “Good night, James.”

She glances at Remus and Sirius for a brief moment. Staring at them for too long would make all the dam she’s trying to uphold break lose and the last thing she’d want to do tonight would be to cry in front of James. No, she would not give him that satisfaction. It is one thing to deny and avoid all of her questions and another to actually dismiss her presence. Perhaps it's time for her to accept that the heart James wears on his sleeve was never hers to begin with.

As she walks out of the infirmary for the second time tonight, she could hear Sirius’ curse faintly, “You’ve lost her for good now, Prongs.”

[irrealisms]

hi! yr probably not lookin for asks anymore, but. what's your lifesteal elevator pitch? i know absolutely nothing abt it or any of the folks on the server except the vague things i've absorbed frm reading yr analysis as it crosses my dash, but it compels me, etc.+ also merry christmas! <33 🎄🌟

good news: i am always looking for asks

bad news: my parents DID go to sleep and i was able to wrap presents and put them beneath the tree and so on, so i wasn't going to do more asks tonight

good news again: i actually already have a lifesteal pitch. in a google doc. bc i'm normal

the pitch does assume you're basically already into mcrp and just curious about lifesteal in specific BUT we went to dsmp together so this works out

I really love shitty little tryhards causing problems via impressive feats of minecraft, and lifesteal is full of those. if you like people being good at minecraft, I really recommend lifesteal--in s2, clownpierce was top 50 worldwide at crystal pvp, and now he's washed and in s6 there are 2-3 (depending on who you ask) lifestealers who are better than him at pvp (admittedly maybe not at crystal); in s4, there's some stuff that's impressive in ~vanilla (eg parrot wins a 1v1 while on one heart) and some stuff that's impressive through exploits/social stuff (eg a group of people use a glitch + social engineering to get /op and prove to mojang that the glitch is a security issue that needs patched). every season is like this! lifestealers have backdoored the server 3 seasons in a row (s3-5). for a more recent weird Lifestealer Behavior, rekrap and jumper filled in every end portal room and built new fake ones to make it look like the world glitched and generated without them. lifesteal is weird and constantly coming up with new weird yet impressive things to do. a lot of stuff that's currently banned on lifesteal (F3+A, pie ray) are things i only learned were possible from lifesteal. (on the flip side i'd say: if you are not into shitty little tryhards making weird impressive clickbait, you probably won't like lifesteal, although you may still like hearing about it from time to time.)

related to them being shitty little tryhards causing problems: the rules are...more of a suggestion. getting around the rules, and hiding from the server owner and/or other players that you're doing so, is often part of the fun of lifesteal! (see also the thing where i mentioned that it's been backdoored three seasons in a row.) if that's intriguing: check it out. if not: once again, you have been warned.

lifesteal absolutely has lore and some people roleplay on it, there is nonzero c/cc divide, but it's more like traffic life than, say, late dsmp--it's fully improv, not scripted, and even more than traffic life it is genuinely adversarial. you can sometimes be confident that someone is in character but you can never be sure if someone is out of character, on lifesteal-- things like "going to someone's house irl to turn off their computer" or "lying about your homework/school/sleep schedule" or "changing your entire discord layout so that when you DM someone they think you're someone else" or "claiming you need their footage of an event for your video when actually you just want to see where their spawn point is" are all things that have been done on lifesteal that are considered fair game! everything on lifesteal is real; sometimes this goes well, sometimes it doesn't, but both are interesting to see imo because they are real

partially for this reason and partially for other reasons, lifesteal is fascinating to me as a piece of unique storytelling? a lot of mcyt is doing interesting things with its medium and being improv, lifesteal's not fully unique in that, but definitely if you like that you might like lifesteal. along with the improv, there's the fact that many lifestealers lie about what actually happened in their videos (comparing different videos with the vods, or in some cases with "what people say in various vods" when events weren't streamed, gives some fascinating insights imo--how do people frame their stories? how honest are they? what do they blatantly lie about, what do they gloss over or omit, what do they include in full? who, if anyone, do they see as the heroes or villains? whose videos agree with each other, and whose present a totally different story?), and the fact that conflict about "where do we want the story to go next, what do we think would be an interesting video/the best ending" is often the driving motive for in-character wars and conflicts! if you're interested at all in lifesteal and storytelling, check out barrier blocks part 2 by @mering/@myrmica, which is a deep dive on eclipse federation and the end of lifesteal s4 (those are my special guys); it dips into some academic game studies and it's really, really good. i genuinely cannot recommend it highly enough. (part one is also real good for non-lifesteal-specific discussion of mcrp!)

if you want a more specific plot summary (esp of s4) and/or "how do i actually, like, watch this" (of any seasons): hmu! but that's my pitch. also, read barrier blocks

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Five

Summary: Taehyung gets careless and breaks your heart yet again. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Implied yändere and mentions of signs of trauma because of it. (nothing too extreme) a/n: It's taken me so long to get this chapter out I'm sorryyy but I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for your continued support on my stories and I hope you'll look forward to the next part!

Jungkook's visit last week really had me thinking about the choices I make on the daily. 

I stopped stressing about what Taehyung might be doing when he's away and started thinking about ways I could improve myself.

It wasn't anything major but I wanted to take baby steps.

For instance, setting up a schedule for when I wake up and always making sure to not stay up past midnight. Along with promising myself to at least sit and write for a couple of hours per day but also taking breaks when I felt I needed to. I would come back though and finish only when I was satisfied and came to a proper stopping point.

Implementing these little changes in my life has worked wonders on my confidence and peace of mind. I feel like I'm accomplishing something and getting some sort of fulfillment in the day to day which I haven't been able to say for the past few years.

I guess all of this can be chalked up to Jungkook. 

I know I'm ultimately the one who's implemented these things into my life but if he hadn't given me that push, I don't think I would've ever gotten to even see these small victories.

While I'm in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee I hear a faint chime on my laptop and I smile knowing exactly who it is.

'Good morning Noona, did you sleep well?'  I read from the all too familiar jkjkjk.97  and smile seeing that my suspicions were correct.

'I slept like a baby, who knew going to bed before dawn would do wonders!'  I send back and when I try to stand up to walk back over to the kitchen I'm met with another email popping up from him.

'That's good! I'm happy to see that you're feeling a bit better these days :)'  he sends and I smile at the fact that he's just as eager to reply to me. It's been like this ever since that day he dropped off my groceries. He would send me emails first thing in the morning almost like clockwork.

I'm surprised that he manages to keep a similar schedule to mine but I don't really know what he does most days except work. 

I know he works at the grocery store but it seems to me like he's always working at odd hours. Most days even well past closing so it's got me thinking about what else he could possibly do for a living.

It's none of my business but I can't help but be curious about it since when I ask him how his day went, he usually says he's still working even though it seems like he's been working since dawn. 

I really want to ask him but I don't want to pry. He seems like the kind of guy that keeps to himself and open up when he's ready. 

I'm just hoping that there will come a day where he'll trust me as much as I have grown to trust him.

My thought process his interrupted by the sound of keys jingling in the door and my heart sinks to my stomach when I'm brought back to reality.

"Hey baby" Taehyung greets while taking off his shoes. It's Saturday so he doesn't have work which means he might be hanging around here for a while before no doubt heading out again. 

"Hey" I respond quietly, feeling as though I'm retreating back into myself, not really being able to relax until I know what kind of headspace he's in.

"Where's my welcome home kiss from my gorgeous wife?" he asks while walking over to where I'm sitting at my desk. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, moulding his mouth against mine while I crane my neck up and return the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him connected.

"Welcome home" I let out after he pulls back, panting slightly as he nudges his nose against mine before standing up straight again. "Have you been up long?" he asks, him having gone out late last night and surprisingly turning up here again bright and early.

I hum in acknowledgment, "I've been waking up earlier these days so I can get a jump start on my writing and trying to go to bed earlier" I respond while watching his back as he walks over to the kitchen.

"Oh really? How's that going?" he questions, pouring himself a cup of coffee and walking back into the living room, waiting patiently for my answer. 

"Well it's been nice to implement a bit of a routine since my days and nights have kind of been all over the place for a while. Plus, I feel like this story is really coming along. I even started mapping out ideas for the next book in the series!" I say and he looks at me as if he's almost falling in love with me again, making me shy under his gaze.

"That's amazing honey. I feel like I haven't seen you smiling like this in a really long time. Looks like all you needed was a little discipline to really get your life back together huh?" he say while giving me a knowing look, cocking his head to the side and letting his eyes roam my body for a second. No doubt looking at the faint bruises he'd left from last week.

"I guess so" I say, awkwardly rubbing my bicep where he had grabbed me. "How are you feeling?" he questions, coming a bit closer and ghosting his fingers over the marks. "I'm fine, they don't hurt as much anymore" I say, slipping my arm out if his grasp.

"That's good, I'm sorry I got a little rough with you. I was frustrated with some work stuff and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair of me" he apologizes while brushing the hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. "It's okay" I say quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze. 

"No, it's not okay" he says tilting my chin up and making me make eye contact.

"I haven't been treating you well and I wanna make it up to you" he says, caressing my face with the hand that he used to tilt my chin up. "Okay" I whisper as he leans down to connect our lips again but before they're able to touch his phone rings. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone and the name Tiffany flashes across the screen with a kiss emoji at the end, giving me a name to associate as to why he's actually never home. 

"I've gotta take this" he says and I nod my head to show I don't mind even though my heart is breaking more and more with each ring. He gives me a quick kiss to apologize before answering the call and walking into the kitchen. 

I take that as a sign that he'll be leaving for the night again and head into the bathroom since it's the one place he won't question as to why I've shut him out. I close the lid of the toilet and cover my ears so I can't hear him but curiosity gets the best of me and I hold my breath to see if I can make any words out despite my whole motives of coming here in the first place.

"No I ca-. Well I just got here I-. Okay, okay fine I'm coming. Let me just come up with an excuse to tell her and I'll be there soon. Okay? Alright, love you too. Bye" I hear him say and he ends the call. I cover my mouth, trying to stop any sounds of heartbreak that might come out and listen as he walks down the hall to our room. 

"Y/n? Honey where are you?" he asks, barely bothering to look for me. "I'm in here" I say, turning on the sink to drown out the sound a bit to prevent him from hearing how wobbly my voice sounds from the emotions I'm trying to keep at bay. 

"I've gotta head out for the day but I'll be back tomorrow night. You gonna be okay?" he asks as if he cared about me. "Yeah I'll be fine don't worry, I'll see you then" I yell above the sound and he says a quick goodbye through the door in return and leaves soon after. 

Once I hear the front door close I let some of those choked sobs go.

He's never been that obvious before. Does he just not bother to hide since he sees that I don't question him about it? I don't even know why I still care since it's very clear that he doesn't care about me.

At that I look at my phone and see that there's another email from Jungkook that came in a little while ago which gives me motivation enough to dry my eyes and get myself together so I can head back out to my laptop and get lost in this safe haven we've created for each other. 

'Did you forget about me already?'  he questions, seeing as it has taken me a while to respond. I couldn't risk doing it and Taehyung finding out about us. Even though there is no 'us' when it comes to Jungkook and I, unlike that Tiffany girl he just left me for today.

'I'm sorry Taehyung came home. He just left though...'  I send and get a response back immediately, seeing he's been waiting for my response.

'Are you okay? Did something happen?'  he asks and I smile at the thought that there is someone out there that cares enough to ask. 

We've been emailing each other everyday since he came over and I've opened up to him a bit more about my relationship with Tae and he's been really good at just letting me talk and just being there for me. Always talking me through things and helping me process no matter if it's problems with Tae or even other more mundane things like writer's block. 

He's just there, no matter what.

'Can we meet up today?' I type out but hesitate, letting my hand hover over the mouse. 

Watching, waiting, worrying about if this would be a good idea but before making that decision myself I accidentally hit send when I try to put my hand down to rest it on my lap. 

"Shit" I say out loud but before I can figure out how to unsend the message I get a response back. 

'Sure :) Did you want to meet at the Blue Pearl? Or should I come over?'  he asks and I hold my breath, weighing the pros and cons to this whole situation and decide to just say fuck it and do what I want for once. 

'Can you come over?'  I send and close my laptop, too nervous to look at his reply. "What the fuck am I doing inviting a younger guy to my apartment when my husband is gone? What am I doing?" I say out loud and pace back and forth until I hear the chime come from my phone this time. 

'Be there soon :)'  "I'm fucked" I admit out loud before running around and quickly getting myself and the house ready.

 ~~~~~

A rhythmic pattern of knocks plays and puts my mind at ease while I walk towards the door and open it. 

"Noona!" he greets with a smile before giving me a hug that catches me off guard making me take a step back to help me stay balanced. "Thank you for coming" I say while returning his embrace and letting go a second later so I can step aside to let him in. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after having taken off his shoes and taken in my form to what I don't realize is to look for any signs of harm. "Yes I'm fine" I say with a sad smile yet know for a fact that even if I try to deny it he can read me like a book. 

"Then why were you crying?" he asks, looking at my red eyes and flushed cheeks. "I heard Tae talking to one of the girls he's cheating on me with" I mumble and at that Jungkook takes my hand and leads me over to the couch without saying a word.

"He didn't even try hard to hide it. Like he has a stupid kiss emoji next to her name and everything. He had only been here for like twenty minutes tops before he left" I spill out. He keeps a hold of my hand, looking down at it while I let out all the things I've been holding in. 

The worries, the doubts, the fear, the stress. I don't know when it started and I can't figure out how to make it stop. 

"I don't know what to do" I admit, looking down at my lap, watching as the tears fall from my eyes and onto the fabric of my jeans. 

"Do you want me to be honest and tell you what I think or do you want me to just listen?" he asks, rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Be honest?" I pose almost as a question, knowing this is the ugly truth I've been hiding from. 

"Can you tell me more than one reason as to why you should stay with him? Besides him being your husband" he asks, sitting silently and waiting for me to respond, giving me time to think it through but when I shake my head he goes forward with posing his argument. 

"If you can't manage to come up with a reason as to why you should stay with him then what's keeping you from leaving? I know you said that you're scared and you don't know what to do but the fact that you're not doing anything is hurting you more than if you decided to leave him" he states, I just nod my head and listen, letting him say his piece.

"He's hurting you. He's hurting you physically" he says while ghosting his fingers along the bruises that run up my arm, "Mentally" he continues brushing the hair off of my face and rubbing his thumb up against my temple "And sexually" he finishes, taking note of the hickeys and the way I flinch away from him when he tries to lay his hand on my neck. 

"That's just how Taehyung is, he likes things rough" I say, making excuses for the marks that are clearly beyond rough sex. 

"But do you like it?" he questions, catching me off guard with an intimacy of the question. "He keeps me satisfied if that's what you mean" I answer curtly, hoping he'll take that as an answer. 

"That's not what I asked. Do you enjoy the way he has sex with you? Is that how you want to have sex?" he continues, not backing down from getting an answer out of me. I look up at him to see if he's seriously asking me that question and all I can see is a serious expression on his face.

"I don't mind it" I say, dancing around my answer. "Noona" he warns in a tone of voice he's never used with me, catching me off guard. 

"N-no. No I don't like it. It's too rough for me and I don't like it" I admit. He nods, casting his eyes down as if he's lost in thought before asking his next question. "Have you ever told him?" he questions and I shake my head only to realize moments later that he can't see me. "No I haven't told him" I respond quietly and he nods again before looking back up at me. 

"Why?" he asks and I'm left with one answer. "Because I'm afraid of what he might do to me if I say no" I explain. "I figure it's better to say yes and take it instead of saying no and having him force himself on me" I cover my mouth not realizing the fact that I said the thing that I was even too afraid to admit to myself.

"Has he ever forced himself on you?" he asks while clenching his jaw, clearly upset at the thought. "I didn't tell him no but I tried to make him see that I didn't want it but he didn't care to pay attention" I answer, getting rid of the filter seeing as it won't do either of us any good if I were to hold back. 

"That's one of the many reasons that you shouldn't even be with him anymore" he starts, his whole body tense, anger just bubbling under the surface. "You shouldn't have to be with someone you're scared of. I just don't kno-" 

"That's just it, you don't know. You told me that before, that I shouldn't be with someone that I'm scared of but you just don't get it. You've never been married. You've never had to deal with struggles like this. You make it sound so easy, that I could just leave and never look back but it's not that simple" I spout off, defending myself and my decisions. 

"Noona I just want to he-" "I know, I know" I say cutting him off but gaining a softer tone at the end, shrinking back into myself, ridding myself of my defensive behavior. "I'm sorry Jungkook, I shouldn't have said that. I asked you to come over and then I just yelled at you and I just..." I trail off, hating myself for doing that to him.

He tilts my head up and looks at me, studying my features and I cast my eyes down, too nervous to maintain his strong gaze. "Look at me" he says in a soft tone but I keep my eyes down, focused on my hands that I have balled into fists. 

"Look at me, please..." he whispers and at that I decide to do as he says and I see how his eyes have glossed over, the stars in them wavering. "He doesn't deserve you" he whispers cupping my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone to brush off a tear that I didn't even realize had fallen. 

"I don't know what to do" I let out in a choked sob, letting the tears that I've been holding in fall, never letting myself cry enough to feel better. He pulls me in and I latch onto him, burring my face into his shoulder as he holds onto me tighter, further showing me that I'm safe with him. 

"Whatever you need I'm here for you. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it" he says, the deep rumble of his voice brings me comfort. "I-" I start but cut myself off with another sob. "It's okay, just let it all out" he says and cling to him harder. 

After having sat there and cried with him for what felt like hours my sobs slowly die down to sniffles and my breathing patterns return to normal. "You okay?" he questions, more so asking if I had finished crying versus how I'm feeling about my current reality. I nod my head but nuzzle in closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet. 

"What's wrong?" he questions. "I don't want you to see my face" I complain into his shirt and he laughs at (from his perspective) how adorable I am. "Aw come on why not?" he chuckles and I nuzzle my face into his neck, making skin to skin contact without paying any mind to it. "My face is probably all red and my eyes are puffy from crying" I mumble against his neck. 

His body goes stiff but I don't take too much notice and move a bit closer to him, not realizing how I'm making him feel and only realize it after he clears his throat a few times. "Is something wrong?" I ask finally taking in how uncomfortable he seems. 

"No, nothing's wrong I just- no it's nothing" he says trying to backpedal out of this. "It's obviously something if you're reacting like that" I press, wanting him to be as truthful with me as I have been with him. 

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" I say, pulling away from him. "No! Noona no, it's just that. Your lips were on my neck and you were really close and..." he trails off, hoping that's explanation enough. 

"I didn't even realize I was doing that, I'm sorry..." I trail off as well, hating that I made this situation even more awkward than it already is. "It's okay Noona I just, well I just want to make sure we don't cross a line and it was making it hard for me to do so" he explains.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, wanting to know exactly what he's thinking. "It's just, well you're married and I think you know that I'm attracted to you by now so it was just making it hard for me to think straight" he admits and I nod my head and look down at my lap, not really knowing how I'm supposed to respond. 

"I hope this doesn't change things between us. I really do want to be your friend but I understand if I've made you uncomfortable. I just thought you should know" he finishes and waits with bated breath for my response. 

"Would things be different?" I question, not fully asking the question since I'm not sure if I want to know the answer. "Would things be different if what?" he presses. "Would things be different if I wasn't married?" I ask and I close my eyes, scared of seeing his reaction. 

"You can't just ask me that" he says and I look up at him to see his face turned away, showing how pink the tips of his ears have gotten and how his jaw is clenching. "Why not?" I press, needing to know based off of the kind of reaction he's giving me. 

"You don't know how hard I've been holding myself back" he says and tongues his cheek, making me widen my eyes at the motion. "Holding yourself back from what?" I press further, needing to know what's running through his mind right now. 

"From kissing you" he says, finally looking back at me, making eye contact before his eyes flicker down to my lips. "I-" "I should go" he says, cutting me off before I can say anything further. "Wait, no you don't have to go. I'm sorry" I say, trying my best to keep him here. I can't let him just run off after a confession like that but he's giving me no other option as I watch him stand up. 

"You have nothing to apologize for Noona. I shouldn't have said that. I do have to go though, my family is waiting for me back at home" he says and I widen my eyes, never having heard him talk about his family as of yet. 

"Family?" I question, my curiosity peaked. "Yeah I live with my mom and my three siblings" he says while walking over to put his shoes on. "Three?" I question and he nods his head not bothering to give me much more than that. 

"That's a topic of conversation for another time though" he says after he stands back up from tying his laces. "Oh okay" I say and hug myself, providing myself some comfort, hating to see him rushing out of here already. 

"They really are waiting for me. My mom has to work tonight so I'm stuck taking care of the kiddos" he says, giving me a soft smile before turning to open the door and I follow behind him. 

"Let me know when you get home okay?" I say, leaning up against the door frame. "I will" he says and reaches out to pull me in for a hug, accepting it right away. 

"I still want you in my life so please, don't disappear" I mumble into his chest and he hums in acknowledgment. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Not after I fought for that title of best friend" he says pulling back and looking down at me fondly and I smile back up at him before he places a hand on the side of my neck and leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.

"Bye Noona" he says, giving me a soft smile. I smile back up at him and return his sentiment before he turns to walk away.

I watch as he goes, waiting for him to get in his car where he looks back up towards my apartment, not expecting to see me waiting for him but smiles when he does. I smile back and wave and watch as he pulls out of his spot and makes his way out of the parking lot. 

"I'm really fucked" I mumble to myself and turn to walk inside my apartment. 

"He gets more and more handsome each time I see that young man" Mrs. Mitchell says, making me jolt back from the scare of being caught. 

"Mrs. Mitchell we didn't-" I start but she waves me off. "You don't need to make excuses to me love. Like I said last time, I wouldn't blame you if you did" she says and places a hand on my arm, noticing all the mixed emotions I have written all over my face. 

"Why don't we change the subject and have you sign those books we had spoken about the other day" she says, turning to walk towards the stack she had waiting by her front door like she had told me she would. 

I smile at her enthusiasm for my writing and and am thankful that she doesn't address what had happened between Jungkook and I anymore. 

"There you go" I say putting the cap on the pen and handing the last book back to her. "Thank you dear! The girls are going to love these!" she says placing the books back in their place. "Girls?" I question, chuckling at her reaction, so happy a simple thing like this could make her happy. 

"Yeah! The other women in my book club. I recommended your books to them and they've been begging me to get them a signed copy from you ever since" she says, turning back to face me. "Well I hope they enjoy them!" I reply happily, embarrassed still that woman of their age are reading it but thankful nonetheless. 

"We're all meeting together here next Sunday so maybe if you're not too busy writing you could stop by and have tea with us. I just know they would love to meet you!" she says, practically glowing with excitement. 

"I'll have to get back to you on that one but it sounds lovely" I smile, my heart swelling at the thought of meeting some of my readers. "Wonderful! But I'll let you get back to your day dear. Make sure to set aside some time to take care of yourself and relax tonight okay? You deserve it" she says placing a comforting hand on my arm before we both go our separate ways. 

As I close the door behind me I'm met with that all too familiar chime and I walk over to my desk, this time a bit more tentative than before, being nervous as to what I might find from my familiar friend jkjkjk.97

Home :) is all he sends but I decide to respond, nervous of the result if I don't, scared that he might shut me out or fade away.

Have fun with the kiddos tonight! And thank you for coming today, it really meant a lot to me  I send back, hoping to make things sound normal.

Anytime, let's see each other again soon. Okay?  he asks and I can tell he's waiting earnestly for a response. 

Okay. This time at The Blue Pearl so we can say 'Hi' to Rae. I miss her :(   I say, hoping that he won't take that as a way of me keeping him from coming over when I really do miss Rae. 

The Pearl it is! Goodnight Noona he says, ending the conversation early tonight, no doubt having a lot to do to manage three kids for the night. 

Goodnight Jungkook  I send and close my laptop, vowing to do as I had agreed upon and take the rest of the day to take care of myself. 

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[bookishgalaxies]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

pairing: albedo x gn!reader

type: headcannons, not proofread

warnings: fluff, so much fluff

a/n: I’m such a simp and I know I have requests and other drafts and calculus homework but it is his birthday!!! I had to post something !!

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❥ for starters I know this boy confessed in the most deliberate way

❥ we’re talking you were simply doing a task with him in the room and he just turns and goes

❥ “I’ve been reading lately about human relationships and at what point you should attempt to have one. I’ve concluded that I would like to date you, if at all possible.”

❥ “I’m not participating in another experiment. The last time I did I was sick for five days.”

❥ “This one I confess is not an experiment. I read about the conditions for when people know they want a relationship with someone and all of them lined up with my feelings towards you.”

❥ “Are you asking me out?”

❥ “I believe that is the more common term for it, yes.”

❥ I think at first he’s VERY shy. Not in a uwu won’t say anything shy. I actually imagine he isn’t a bad conversationalist. He likes having long talks and asking you about your aspirations and how you acquired them.

❥ I think he’s shy in the sense that he’ll brush his hand against your’s gently as if asking to hold it. As well as leaning in really close and then whispering the question of if he can kiss you.

❥ Albedo really enjoys drawing you. I know it is a cliche headcannon of his but I had to include it. I just genuinely believe to him he enjoys looking at you, no matter what your appearance is, and attempting to memorize every shape and line so he can draw you well.

❥ He also enjoys just being around you. He wants you to be there while he’s doing experiments. If you are into alchemy or interested in it/interested in helping him, great! If not, he would want nothing more than for you to stay and do your own thing. The feeling of your presence warms his heart.

❥ Dragonspine always gets colder in the winter months and you best believe he always gives you his coat.

❥ “Albedo, you are going to freeze without it. I’m not taking the jacket”

❥ “Your human body will freeze much faster than mine, please, I insist.”

❥ As for nicknames and things I genuinely think Albedo just calls you by your name. He likes the way it sounds and uses it quite often. If you want to be called by a specific pet name he doesn’t mind but he definitely enjoys just calling you hy your name.

❥ His sleep schedule was shit before you came along but it has significantly improved. He observed how you enjoyed cuddling with him and how much faster you fell asleep. So now anytime you retire for the night he does the same.

❥ There may have still been a few all nighter’s pulled by him though where you find him asleep in his chair, head on the desk.

❥ I’ve seen a lot of people say that Albedo wouldn’t be good at cooking and I don’t really agree. I mean, I don’t think he’s fantastic at it but he’s decent.

❥ I do however believe he SHINES in the baking department! Baking is about a lot of precision with ingredients and instructions. Albedo as an alchemist does that everyday with his research.

❥ I just know one time he made you heart shape cookies and wrote cute messages on them

❥ I believe that is it for right now, I may add more later. Happy birthday to this lovely alchemist !!

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thank you so much for reading !!

have a nice day/night !!