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wystiix · 9 months ago

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talk to me, please

❥ pairing: venti x gn!reader ❥ synopsis: Venti anxiously waits for a text from you to the point where he overthinks and nearly spirals into madness—will you please just fucking reply already? ❥ cw: crack, attempt at humour (kms), fluff maybe?? not proof-read so some stuff may not make sense lmao ❥ additional tags: lowkey kinda revolves around texting, venti's perspective, no pronouns for reader, modern setting, venti is a humanities major cuz i said so, does this count as socmed??? idk someone tell me i need to sleep it's 2am ❥ word count: 955 ❥ notes: bonjour hi hello kumusta. my foot is fucking asleep and my leg feels numb and my back hurts and i'm tired an it's 2am i have school i need to stop. okay so for context i was texting this girl and she wasn't replying so i went crazy, and then i thought "wait i could write a fic about this" and here we are. it was actually kinda fun writing this HAHAHAHAHA but i had to rush it cuz i have other stuff to do so uh it may be a bit quick. (see end notes after reading cuz i said so /j)

The clock ticked. It had been three hours. Venti stared at his phone, impatiently waiting for you just please, please, please reply.

Try to distract yourself, one may say, and mark these fucking words, he did.

He tried everything. From listening to music to doing the dishes, to cleaning his room. Oh, but that was not all.

For the past few hours, he reorganised his notes, desk and playlist, walked at least twenty laps around his dorm, ate all his snacks from the pantry like a fatass, cleaned up his closet and planned what he was going to wear a week from now, learned a new song on his guitar and even counted every single one of his ceiling and wall tiles.

There were exactly 146 tiles in his dorm. That number now forever haunts him.

Practically exhausted from being way too productive than he usually was, he slumped down on his bed and opened the app he used to text you. There was still no reply.

Venti buried his face into his pillow, letting out a groan of frustration.

It was incredibly frustrating and it nearly drove him crazy. Were you seriously that busy? Normally you would respond within a span of seconds, a few to thirty minutes at the latest. But fucking three hours?

He couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. You both had been talking for over a week—he couldn’t afford to mess this up.

But what if you suddenly lost interest? Oh, it felt far too early for that. Was he finally going to have that Mitski experience? Was he going to be those depressed poets who poured their hearts out through their ink on the paper when a single minor inconvenience happened to them?

You were killing him. And it was not softly. Venti felt as if his heart was shattering into a million pieces.

Was this his destiny, his punishment for choosing to pursue such a depressing major in humanities?

How cruel the universe is.

He sighed in defeat, opening his notes app to write and exude a poetic, Shakespearean ballad about this before his phone suddenly buzzed.

Ding! You have received a new message from [Name]!

Holy shit has his fingers never moved so quickly before in his entire life, clicking on the notification faster than he could blink. Your sudden message almost gave him a heart attack, for fuck’s sake.

So much for living and breathing Shakespeare.

Oh, how his heart fluttered. A simple message, yet it had him forget about his lament just a few seconds prior and he found himself swooning, practically glazing your message as if it was the most fascinating piece of literature he had ever laid eyes on.

Venti paused, rereading your message 25 million times, unsure how to reply. Should he respond right away, or would that be too eager? He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but three hours of waiting had been excruciating. Perhaps he should wait a minute or two… No, that would be too long!

God he wanted to punch himself in the face for clicking that notification too fast, now he has to think of a response on the spot or else he’d look like an asshole.

He started to type out a response.

k, i see.

He paused, immediately deleting the message with a shake of his head. Too dry, he has to sound interested. I understand! Would you like to shift the conversation to a less taxing topic? Delete. Too formal. LMAOOO dw dw, what was it about anyway? Delete. ahh hope the essay didn’t stress u out too much!! Delete. i’m madly in love with u Delete. Had he sent that he would find the nearest cliff and leap off.

Venti sighed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Why was this so complicated? He wanted to sound interested, but not desperate; casual, but not indifferent. He ended up typing something simple and hitting send before he could second-guess himself again. Sometimes, being simple is the ultimate sophistication.

He fought the urge to chuck his phone across the room. Shit, was that too casual? How long were you going to reply this time?

There were immediate blinking dots.

The tension in his chest eased as he found himself giggling at your comment. He realised the way he was acting earlier was ridiculous, maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Venti felt the weight lift off his shoulders. The conversation was back on track, and he could breathe easy again. Just as he was about to put down his phone, the blinking dots appeared again, and he immediately reverted his attention back to it.

Another message.

What.

What the fuck. Was this real?

He put his phone face down, allowing everything to sink in.

What the fuck. Coffee? Tomorrow? With you? Did you just ask him out? Was this real? Was he real? Were you real?

The anxiety that lingered within slowly ebbed away as he stared at the ceiling tiles—the same tiles that haunted him earlier. However, they now seemed oddly comforting.

“Holy shit.”

Gods above, was this a blessing? Maybe his love life wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Venti’s gaze drifted to his closet, where he noticed that same outfit he intended to wear a week from now. A cozy, soft-beige sweater with a hint of cream peeked out from behind a row of neatly hung clothes, gently draping over a pair of charcoal chinos.

He grinned like an idiot, giggling and kicking his feet like a little child who just received their favourite toy. A string of “oh my god, oh my god” repeated endlessly in his head like a loop.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

❥ notes: hi so yes. yes i did what he did here. yes i counted my tiles, but it was my bathroom tiles instead. there are like 121 tiles in the bathroom, including the hidden ones. in this fic i just added the average number of tiles to that number which was like 25 tiles??? lowkey idk i just estimated. and yes i did plan my outfit a week from now, which is for church. yes i cleaned my room. yes i walked more than ten laps around my living room. i was restless. yes i was productive as hell. lmfao by the time i was done with the fic she replied to me so yay!! win!! also pls get the "you were killing him and it's not softly" reference i hope someone at least gets it or else i'm gonna cry myself to sleep. yeah anyways im gonna sleep gn <3

#i need to stop posting late at night #venti #genshin venti #venti genshin impact #genshin modern au #venti x reader #genshin x reader #venti x you #venti x y/n #☆ wystys ink

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bookworm-1196 · 5 days ago

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also piper specifically.. i feel like a big part of the fandom doesn't like her so can you tell us why you do? 🎤

I once read somewhere (maybe on Instagram? Who knows) that women date for potential unlike men. (Which is a whole other conversation in and of itself but let’s not get into that now). I don’t date but it’s the lens I see characters and stories from. I don’t just see them for what’s on the page but also for what their full potential could be based on what we’re told about them (that’s a big part of why I’m in the Marauders fandom I think).

I think there was a lot of potential to show how Piper’s complicated relationship to femininity could be resolved so she could find a way to be comfortable in her own skin (something I relate to a lot), but since Rick is a guy I suppose he wouldn’t have known how to write about that.

I also wish we’d gotten to see more about Piper questioning her romantic orientation on page, because since it all happened off page I feel like it could have been developed further. When I read ToA I felt like her breakup with Jason was so sudden because there hadn’t really been a buildup towards it other than us knowing the start of their relationship was artificial because of Hera’s fake memories.

The fact that she started to reconnect with her culture and heritage (learning to use a blow gun for example) could have been explored too, and it’s also something I can relate to as a third generation Chinese immigrant. I’m of a completely different culture but I can relate to not knowing much about your roots or where you come from and trying to figure out who you are in that particular aspect.

And like I said in my honorable mentions post, I was quite young when I first read HoO so Piper’s “not like other girls” behavior wasn’t as much of a turnoff for me back then because I hadn’t matured enough yet to realise why that wasn’t a healthy way to think about yourself and others. I also think a lot of it was due to her specific background as the child of a movie star. She didn’t want to fit into the traditional beauty standards and wanted to rebel against people’s expectations and I think that’s really cool. But once she found out she was also a child of Aphrodite she just doubled down on that behavior because she was so used to not wanting to fit into people’s expectations that she just kept trying to reject them. (Also, she’s a teenager in HoO and teenagers are flawed and still figuring out who they want to be in life so that’s okay.)

I could be wrong but from what I’ve seen, a lot of people call her a “pick me” mostly because she said Percy’s not that attractive. People can find other people (even people universally agreed upon as attractive) not that attractive and not be pick me’s. (Personally, I see Percy in a more platonic way since I grew up reading about him. Kind of like a part of my family. He’s like the cousin with a sense of humour you exchange knowing glances with at family reunions whenever one of your relatives says something weird and talks back to the adults). And honestly, if she IS a pick me, it’s because she has issues she needs to work through because her father wasn’t as present during her childhood as he could have been and she felt she had to act out to make him notice her. It’s a flaw but I understand where she’s coming from, and now that her dad’s no longer a movie star and she can spend more time with him she can work through those issues too.

She could have been written better but I think she had the potential to be a really compelling character if those aspects had been explored. I used to think she was one of my favorite characters and then I grew up and still love her but I see her flaws. She’s not perfect but I love her anyway. Does that make sense ?

#riordanverse #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #piper mclean

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nokingsonlyfooles · 1 year ago

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Oh God. David Heard There's Room Service In Hell!!

Once again, I am testing my drawing ability by NOT doing any of the MANY illustrations I need, but I would've been sad if I couldn't finish an illustration. And look! I made it! I CAN DRAW! (And collage, obvs not my suitcase or BG, but all Public Domain)!! Well, my stylus needs a new battery, BUT, IN THEORY, I CAN DRAW! It's low res like all my test images, and I don't think I'm gonna put Vivziepop out of business anytime soon, but I'm fond of it.

That's why I'm so sad that it'll NEVER EVER HAPPEN. As a storyteller (albeit an obscure one) let me elucidate...

Strictly in terms of narrative viability, David hails from an incompatible universe. For an Invisible, he's middling. The Compelling Voice he's so fond of seems to be standard-issue, he's just more of an asshole about using it. In Tin Soldier and Soldier On, he's not all that hard to beat. Some people even have a natural immunity! He's only a threat in the first place because nobody knows what he can do.

But the minute he rolls up to the Hazbin Hotel, not only does nobody know what he can do, nobody has that natural immunity, and it would be hard as hell (haha) to beat him with their combat-friendly magic system. David isn't doing that Capcom-esque "freeze the enemy for a few seconds while they're looking at it" hypnosis. He's issuing unbreakable commands. If you're not deaf, the only way to beat him is to forget what he said. And that seems like it would be difficult, if not impossible, for most of the cast. Alastor certainly won't stoop to inflicting head trauma or hypnosis or amnesiac-levels of liquor on himself.

And that MIGHT not be a problem, except as soon as Dave meets Al he's gonna go from zero to nemesis in about three seconds flat. "Hmm, let's see. Neat freak, carefully-curated personality, perma-smile, never a moment's weakness... That's a pathetic little traumatized man-baby and I'm going to pull him out of his shell if I need to use a crab fork!" And, canonically, Alastor is also willing to make enemies that quickly. David has a sense of humour and no sense of self preservation, combat tentacles and veiled threats ain't gonna do it. Round one, David's gonna mop the floor with the Radio Demon.

...And by that, I mean he'd stuff Alastor into one of Niffty's frilliest little outfits and literally make him mop the floor, and even Charlie encouraging him to be a better person wouldn't get him to quit. Also, he'd be ignoring her and bending over backwards to get Angel's attention.

"Oh, listen. The man is over one hundred years old with zero interest in one-night stands or whirlwind romances. Prohibition isn't a thing anymore, drinking and dancing just doesn't cut it. Give him a chance to develop a fetish for something a little bit taboo..."

"I̸̠̤̐̄̄ ̸͕̝͙̌A̸̪̅M̴̭̰̙̎̓ ̶͓̻̐̉L̷̹͕̍I̷̯͗T̷̫̄Ȩ̶̾̋R̴̝̥͒A̷͔̩͋̃̕Ļ̵͗͜L̶̘̈́Y̵͇̓͗̂ ̴̼̪̘͠Ā̷̠̽̆ ̶͍͓̊̉C̷̣͕̺͆̃͝A̵͙̾̅N̶̥̬̮̄N̴̤̯̬̒̉̚I̴̩̜̍B̷͈̪̩̄À̴̝̦L̶̪͂͛͗!̶̟̆"

"That's not a fun night out. It's barely even a meal, what with the garbage they're feeding people these days. I imagine everyone tastes like a fucking 'Cool Ranch Dorito.'" [while making quote marks with both hands] "Isn't he from Louisiana? They invented spicy! Tell me, my deer fellow, is the cross-dressing and domination lighting up any dials?"

"Ì̴̗ ̶̧̫͓͋W̵͜͝Í̸̗͋L̴͆��͔̌L̴̨̜͚͂ ̸͈̤́Ḱ̵̳̩͜Í̷̘̾L̶̨̫̬̉͋̌Ļ̵̱̗͐͊ ̴̧̣͊̄̈́Y̴̛͖̺͓̓̐O̶̢̦̍̀U̷̠̞͇̎ ̷̨̛̮̭I̷̙̜̽N̸̘̣͙̆ ̵̞͑͝Y̷̰̭̽O̷̟̘̹̓Ủ̶̢̏R̷͉͑̄̀ ̷̧̧̤̎Ŝ̶̱͈̃L̵̰͋Ȅ̸̜̗̙̊̍E̷͇̦̒P̷͈̝̅̆͌.̴̡͈̅͑̓͜"

"My good man, I have unlimited access to drugs and a fun new activity, WHY WOULD I SLEEP? What shall we try next? Do you have any drugs, Angel? Oh, of course you do! Do you think he's more of an upper or a downer person? I think a few muscle relaxants might loosen up that permanent rictus of social anxiety, but God only knows. You must be smoking a crate of cigarettes a day! Do you even brush? Your teeth, I mean. Do you suppose those lovely people at Lourdes make a mouthwash...?"

And Charlie would say, clasping her little hands, "Okay! What if we make some popcorn and talk about our childhood traumas? Yaaaay!"

But David would, inevitably, pass out. Most likely after binging and doing untold damage with Angel. And Alastor would kill him... And that's where we have the biggest fucking plot problem of all. Alastor's go-to method of disposal is tearing people to pieces while broadcasting it on the radio. And it seems like their screaming continues for quite some time, perhaps eternally.

I have expressed this in song form, because I have a weird brain and I couldn't resist.

Wait, wait, nevermind the eternal torment. Can these little hellions hear me? Test, test, is this thing on? Pardon me, could you quiet down a bit? I have a few things I’d like to… Will you stop screaming? Ugh. EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LISTEN RIGHT NOW! That’s better. I have a little message for my executive producer. Well! I say! Colour me startled, you fulfilled your vow Think you’ve won? But I’ve barely begun! I’m always looking for new fans to wow Can you hear me NOW? [aside] Will you screamers sing backup if I command it? Can I get a little harmony? (We… can’t help ourselves?) I am eternal, and guess who’s just boosted my signal So I can reach all of you lovely new people? (We can’t help ourselves!) It’s your own Radio Demon! What was he thinking? (We can’t help ourselves!) What was he drinking? Ha! His dial must be twisted! Now I’m serenading the damned for my infinite span All according to plan! Am I a madman or a genius? I’m a pianist! Take that, FCC I’m a wonder, your saviour Please excuse my rude behaviour, (but the demon sure done fucked up!) Think he did me a favour? Silence my vocals? A failure! I’m louder and I’m certainly braver So crank the signal to the noise, and enjoy my compelling voice It’s nice to have all these new toys, (but our deer friend is annoyed) A Spirit of Radio beats a demon blow for blow This Invisible is crackling on the air! Well, one does like to believe Though you’re stuck, I’m almost free! That’s what you think! Your weak signal can’t compare Though you’ve had a little fun Your broadcast is done, and it’s time for your payback I’m in control Too bad you atomized my soul! … Not this attention-starved, brandy-addled, overgrown twink Guilty! What could be more absurd? A plagiarist bird Tweety-pie can’t even sing, his theft is pitchy You call that bitchy? I’m afraid that’s not entertainment! You're looking for a new twist? Then let’s remix the arrangement! Is Al as stiff as he projects? What sorts of kinks do you suspect? I’ve seen lacy details with my very eyes! He lies! And if I Tiked a Tok or two Well, there’s nothing he can do! A V̷̰͖̉̂͝İ̶̙D̵̛̻̮̙͛̕E̴̼̱̕Ŏ̷͆ͅ?̷̗͎̞̏̅! If I did, you can’t delete it That's the truth! When I find you in here, Ÿ̴͕̚Õ̸̠̝̕Ů̵̩̹Ŕ̸͔ ̸̬̋̂̔͜T̸̮̙͌̕Ő̵͔͕̑̄R̵̩̣̅͌̌͜M̷̝̹̾̏Ĕ̶̦͕̟Ň̶̮͊Ṱ̷̲̈̔̈ ̵̡̹̟̑Ẅ̷̝́͝I̷͉͋ͅL̴͎̞̎L̶̯͓͑ ̵̬͐͐͝Ḅ̸͚̬̅Ẹ̴̎̿͠ ̴̻͉̲̐̈́͠N̵̖̟̤͑̽E̴͙͎͘V̸̡͕̦̾̕Ė̵̝͈̀Ŕ̴̺-̸̡̱̇̾̉E̴̠̣̊̐̋Ń̵͔̬̝̑D̴̡̬͙̓İ̴͔͋͊N̸̞̙͐̒Ĝ̷̼̺̐͆.̸̤̭́̐̅.̸̰̓͝.̷̤̬̌ #MaidioDemon is trending! Y̴̼̿͆O̶̟͇͊̏͜Ǔ̸͈ ̴̨̫͘I̷̡͓̜̍̈́̽N̸̜̩̉̄͝S̵͚͈̭̅̓Ĩ̸̢̯͇͘Ṗ̶̩̭̦I̴̱͑D̷̨͖̚ͅ,̴̥͕̌̈̾ ̸̛̳̈́Ṭ̶̢̠͒Ė̸̱̼̕C̸̙̥̈́H̵͓̠̔̀N̷̖͝Ǒ̶̬Ć̶͔̃͘Ř̶͙͍͠Ä̴̟́̊T̴̳̉̊͜I̶̞̓͝C̵̢̨̲͐̇̎.̵̼̏͋.̷͎̆ͅ.̸̘̜̒ Darling, please, you’re lost in static One thing’s clear! You must be wishing that you took the L, you poor deer Say farewell. I’m very grateful that you gave me Hell Oh, this will be swell! [Vivziepop, distantly:] Fuck!

"Stayed Gone" is a patter song and I can't keep up with it as I read it, but I think the lyrical parts scan, at least. A-heh. Please excuse my hubris, but it's doubtful anyone will see this.

Of course, I would never torment someone with arguably GNC-phobic revenge porn, but that guy IS NOT ME. Your only hope for dealing with David is if Vaggie decides he's more of a threat than an amusement and straight up kills him, and that's not a plot, that's a cul-de-sac. So this little not-a-fic is all you'll get from me about this unsustainable situation.

...Alright, I might put Alastor in a maid outfit if anyone cares, but I really should be illustrating. I have precisely 13 to do before I can post more story! Unless I decide to post it anyway!

All apologies to Vivziepop, whom I've name-checked as one of a few creators I'd sell out or saw off my leg to work with. But - although I am tempting fate - prrrobably no one will see this. I'm just doin' a little practice and amusing myself.

Right, Tumblr?

#tin soldier and soldier on #art #updates #art practice #hazbin hotel #alastor #and meet david valentine!#low rent noodle birb drawing #long post #fanfic #but not really #song parody #phoenixes i guess?#could've gone butterfly but i think there's enough moth people already #and that whole light/shadow dichotomy would've been fun #if it wouldn't destroy everything cool about david AND hazbin hotel #maybe the moth-to-a-flame thing is more appropriate...#but val and vox are already doing that so maybe not?

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kitkatsudon · 2 years ago

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What are your thoughts on their characters of the alternate universe also being neurodivergent?

Eg, Gon and Jihun both having autism. Or Yeong and Eunseob also both being neurodivergent.

First of all, what a great question! I’m very pleased you’ve got me talking about this in a public place, lol.

I think the best way to start is to think about the question in a general sense, rather than focusing on Eunseob and Jihun in particular. After all, the multiverse is vast, but the question here is… exactly how vast? It really depends on how you conceptualise it. In the TKEM canon, we’re shown different universes that contain variants of the characters we’re familiar with, and it’s implied that everyone exists with the same DNA in every universe, implying strict continuity within the universes… except that’s not quite right, is it? If that were the case, one would expect people to live and die at the same time in every universe, but we have proof that isn’t the case, even without Lee Lim’s meddling. Take Song Jeonghye, for example: she’s alive and kicking in the Republic, but in the Kingdom Queen Song died when Gon was very small (I think three years old in Korean age?), which was before Lee Lim started drastically altering the continuity between the universes. If people can die at different times in different universes, what happens if someone in one universe died as a baby, but in another universe in the infinite multiverse they went on to have children? These children wouldn’t exist in the first universe where they were dead, causing a big inconsistency between the universes.

That’s why I prefer to think of the multiverse using the mindset that, in the infinite multiverse, there’s a universe where every possible outcome of the universe has happened. This means that there are an infinite amount of universes where, for example, Lee Gon exists as he does in canon, where he exists as he does in our headcanons, and also an infinite amount of universes where he was never born at all. The implication of this is that, if you can think of something, it will exist somewhere in the infinite multiverse. (This also means that every fanfiction is canon, and hypothetically the canon characters could visit the universe of any fanfiction using the Manpasikjeok - I love having the concept of the multiverse in the show’s canon because it means that somewhere, somehow, you’re always right >:D)

With this in mind, my official, blanket answer for the question of whether or not Gonjo variants would be neurodivergent is both yes and no. There would be an infinite number of universes where they are, and an infinite number of universes where they aren’t.

However, you also asked me about these specific cases, so let’s talk about them!

Jihun… is a difficult one to call. What I can say at least is that if he is neurodivergent, he would probably need to be high masking to be able to reach a high position in the military. From his uniform, you can tell that he’s a pretty high ranking officer (I don’t have wifi right now and the signal isn’t good enough for video so I can’t check his exact rank at the moment), which means it would probably be difficult for him to serve if the military thought that potential neurodivergence would affect his ability to do his job. With that being said, it’s certainly not impossible. In my opinion, we haven’t really seen enough of Jihun to make an educated call either way, but from the way he was purposefully paralleled with Gon in the first episode, it’s not out of the question.

As for Eunseob, this is perhaps more likely. We’ve spoken about Gon and Yeong having an ND-to-ND connection, but I think it’s telling that when Gon first arrived in the Republic, Eunseob was the only one to really humour Gon and try and spend any time with him. I think, however, that a big point is how Yeong and Eunseob are presented as such polar opposites, with such extreme personalities. Neurodivergent traits are often characterised by extremes, and the way they’re characterised as extreme opposites in the show really lends itself to a neurodivergent reading for both of them. As for his exact diagnosis, I agree with you in our messages that he’s more likely to be ADHD, but admittedly I have’t really thought about this well enough to create a well thought-out argument as to why - it’s just kind of based on intuition and vibes, more than anything else. Something I want to note is that in @deesarrachi ‘s Polycule Cinematic Multiverse, Yeong has ADHD, and although last time I checked, the full fic isn’t ready yet, I can’t help but wonder if, in this universe, both Yeong and Eunseob have ADHD (and if you see this and would like to, deesarrachi you are more than welcome to expand on this in the comments or in a reblog)

Anyway, I think those are all my thoughts on the subject? Thank you once again for the question, you kept me very entertained while I’ve been sat on the train for a couple of hours :D

#tkem #kitkat’s tkem deep dives #kinda?#it’s more like kitkat happily rambles about her tkem brainrot without doing any kind of additional research to back anything up #it really is making me happy to talk about my headcanons though #thank you so SO much for engaging with me on this #lee gon #jo yeong #lee jihun #jo eunseob #kitkat answers asks

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bouquetface · 8 months ago

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11/29/2006, kuala lumpur, malaysia, 8:55 pm.

current location: gopeng, perak, malaysia

bio: i grew up in a rough time and had to basically live by teaching myself things. i have mommy issues and mixed feelings towards my older brother. people have said i'm charming, silly, happy-go-lucky, but also self-centered, in my own world, inconsistent, unreliable in outings. i was very depressed and had umm mental issues i can't even identify properly, but after entering pre-university i felt that i improved a lot better.

i'm not sure what i'd like to ask, but i want to know something regarding my academic performance. i've consistently disappointed myself and sabotaged my own grades due to my impulsive decisions and it cost me heavily. now that i'm getting my degree i want to make sure it doesn't happen again, but idk what the stars will say. so i'd like to ask — based on my chart, how do i learn to find a healthier version of myself in order to achieve my dreams?

Hello, sorry for the late response I had some unexpected life stuff happen.

You have a strong scorpio 6th house. You could be attracted to careers involving investigating/research and analysis. Careers in service to helping others are likely too. EX: Law, Medical, Psych fields. Your pisces moon suggests you will be creative in your career. You could even do well in marking or consulting. You are likely to be good at any field because pisces moon in 10th for gemini asc is a very good placement.

Saturn and ketu are in your 3rd. Your 11th H ruler which deals with older siblings is in 6th H too. This can indicate a difficult relationship with siblings especially older.

Your spouse is likely to be well educated. An older person too. They can be tall physcially. They can have a dry sense of humour. They can be very knowledgable - you could adapt their beliefs such as political, religious, etc.

You may encounter romantic connections with controlling and critical people. You must be careful to not confuse those types with your spouse.

You have a Saturn/Rahu dasha period coming up in October. This period will last until 2027. Like all periods of life there are a mix of good and bad. Your natal Rahu is in 9th house, this shows focus on higher education and spiritual/religious beliefs. This period will require hard working and consistency to get through but you will get through it. At times you will feel your faith is being tested, you can struggle with feeling lonely. This is a good time to make sure you keep a strong support system in your life. Be kinder to yourself during this period but don't let yourself become lazy or inconsistent.

Rahu in 9th does bring interrupted studies but from what you described it seems you have already experienced it. If you keep a strong focus, you should achieve your goals.

By March 2030 (age 23), you will leave your Saturn mahadasha period. This is good news as many find that the Saturn period is very difficult. Since the age of 4-20, you have been in a Saturn mahadasha. This can bring delays in career, romance, and life in general. It can test your faith and be a karmic period. Luckily, you have gotten it over with by the time you are 23. After 23, you can slowly begin to reap the benefits of your hard labour.

2027 September to 2032 (ages 20-23), you are likely to begin to have an easier time. You can meet new friends & someone to be with for the long tern. I don't want to get hopes up or scare you so please understand I'm not a pro and you have free will to do as you please with your life.

Aug 2033 - Jun 2036 (ages 26-29) are also very likely to be good especially in regard to romance as this is a Mercury/Venus period. Many get married during their venus period, however once again I don't want to get your hopes up. This is not always the situation for everyone. However, generally it will be blissful.

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xiaoshengnu · 1 year ago

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Love O2O final review

overview: episode no. - 30 episodes, genre - romance

released in 2016, Love O2O follows the romance between two star computer science students in beijing's qing university. bei weiwei is both an ace pupil and a star gamer, being the only woman gamer on her server to reach the top ten. however being perfect at everything (and a woman) doesn't come without it's troubles. after a series of unexpected events she meets computer science genius xiao nai, and the two fall in love.

l⃣e⃣ t⃣’ s⃣ b⃣e⃣g⃣i⃣n⃣

honestly, I won't deny it, the drama is a classic and it will forever hold a special place in my heart. bei weiwei and xiao nai were literally written to be the ideal couple- they have it all, they're smart, beautiful and sensible which I guess is such a breath of fresh air from all those dramas where the lead couple have you pulling your hair out in frustration due to the ridiculous misunderstandings that occur between them.

however, it definitely still has its merits and its flaws, but I don't hate it as much as I did when I watched it for the second time back when I was 15. seeing it for the third time I can definitely see why it's considered a classic- so. lets get into it!

o⃣u⃣t⃣ o⃣ f⃣ t⃣ e⃣ n⃣

𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 - 7/10

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 - 6/10

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 - 7/10

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 - 7/10

𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕖 - 6.75/𝟙𝟘

o⃣u⃣t⃣ o⃣ f⃣ f⃣ i⃣v⃣ e⃣

𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖊𝖒 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 - 💎💎

[ even though in my mind it is a classic, I think the only really unique thing about it is how mature (lmao) the main characters are. the tropes and the arguments it presents are pretty standard. I'm also not the biggest fan of the drama's messages ]

𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 - ✨✨ ✨✨

[ it's very easy to rewatch- so simple and a good length but I think if I rewatched it too many times it would get kind of boring for me ]

‘keep reading’ for detailed review

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 - 7/10

the characters in this drama were all pretty good. I liked them all quite a bit. rewatching the drama for the third time, and with a much better understanding of mandarin in comparison to when I was 12 and 15 really made me appreciate how witty the writing was for some of these characters? I really liked the humour they had, even though sometimes it was a little stylised in true cdrama style. I loved the banter between bei weiwei and xiao nai and also the dynamics of their respective friend groups- I actually found myself laughing along.

however, the drama definitely careened a little bit too much into wish fulfilment which limited how well written their characters could be. most of the characters were pretty one-note, ESPECIALLY the two main leads. neither bei weiwei or xiao nai change much over the course of the drama and neither undergo any character development to speak of. it was also rather unrealistic and hard to believe how much the drama seemed to orbit around the two main leads unconditionally, in particular xiao nai. despite the female lead being presented as similarly intelligent and capable, her skills and abilities were kind of thrown aside to favour xiao nai's story. although it wasn't badly written and it did make sense for the direction the narrative was moving, it still kind of sucks and does feel pretty gendered in my opinion.

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 - 6/10

moving on to plot, I feel like this situation is rather recurrent in the drama- this situation where things work out almost too ideally for the main characters that it feels almost unrealistic, but within the set up of the drama it makes sense. which makes it a fairly well written wish fulfilment kind of drama- and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it, because I did T-T. but the plot was pretty solid.

however, the drama's narrative never really sat well with me even as a 15 year old, mainly because how traditionalist it was. sure, the plot did shed light on the treatment of women in corporate culture, women in gaming and in stem, as well as the struggles of being a conventionally attractive woman and also homosexuality; it doesn't really challenge the traditionalist mindset that produced this problems in the first place- even encouraging them. like when bei weiwei is consistently slandered throughout the drama for being sexually promiscuous, the drama resolves this with her beating these allegations by proving her sexual purity and demonising the sexually promiscuous xiao yu qingqing. I also really despised the lack of voice weiwei had during her more intimate moments with xiao nai. every kiss throughout the drama and every move towards something more was always initiated by xiao nai, with weiwei being the passive, slightly wary yet pleased receiver.

nevertheless tho, it's not a bad drama. it makes sense, it's just some things it- sigh. lets leave it here. if I open up the homophobia box as well I will never stop. Love O2O and I... it's a love-hate relationship y'all.

𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 - 7/10

overall, the acting was pretty decent and believable. I really liked the chemistry between the friend groups in the drama in particular, it all felt rather natural and easy. however some scenes were pretty stylised and over the top, in true romance-idol-cdrama style, which I can watch, just not the biggest fan of. in terms the the lead couples, yang yang and zheng shuang are literally the prettiest two people you can put on screen together- I'll give them that lol- though I kind of got this feeling that both of them were very very very aware of the camera that was watching them. their expressions and actions often didn't really feel like real people but felt very calculated to look good on camera. yang yang also wasn't the most expressive, though I suppose that might of just been xiao nai's character.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 - 7/10

the production on the whole was fairly decent, and I appreciate the work done used to create the gamescape. for an idol drama the sets were fairly okay, and just about believable though it definitely doesn't have a lived-in feel in comparison to some better quality productions and sometimes the luxuriousness of the places like xiao nai's office and bei weiwei's university dormitory felt slightly ridiculous. the ost on the other hand tho, slaps.

𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘!!

favourite characters

hao mei (resident gay)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜 (source mydramalist)

lead actors : zheng shuang, yang yang, mao xiaotong, bai yu

directors : lin yufen, guo hu

screenwriters : gu man, scarlett ouyang, shen fei xuan

#love o2o #bei weiwei #yang yang #zheng shuang #cdrama #romance drama #asian dramas #cdrama recommendation #drama review #tv show review #mao xiaotong #final review

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life-and-love-in-a-myst · 1 year ago

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Was inspired by this scene in S5 E10 Slave of Duty.... So wrote a version with OC visiting her grandfather's grave and telling him all that has happened in her life. (bit of a tear jerker!)

Kez stood next a headstone with a mixed bouquet of flowers. “Hey, Opa,” she said, as she knelt in the grass and brushed away the grass trimmings and loose stones. “Sorry, I haven’t been to see you. It’s been too long. I have been busy with work.”

Kez sat cross-legged as she removed the dead flowers from the urn-like vase, placing them to one side. She unwrapped the bouquet she had brought with her and began to separate out the flowers and foliage, before she began to arrange them. “So much to tell you. Oma is doing well, though she is getting older. Dad is now a professor at George Washington University. Apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree, huh?” she said with a chuckle, trying hard not to let the tears fall. “I wish you were still here with us. You would love Daniel. Dad says that he’s like you, cheeky and mischievous. A right little rascal.”

Kez paused to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. “Got transferred to a new job within the Bureau back at the end of October last year. So, I am now back in Virginia. Dad and Caroline love being able to see more of us now. Still, I miss Boston, but when you have lived somewhere for more than a decade, that’s to be expected. You would understand that.”

A light breeze blew a few loose strands of her hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s hard sometimes, being on my own, with just the boys. Though I have met someone, but it’s still fairly new for both of us. I think you would like him. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of you – the strong, quiet type, though he does have a sense of humour and is a softie.”

Kez looked up at the sky, sighed deeply before her gaze returned to the headstone in front of her. There was the sound of footsteps on the gravel path. Her back straightened, but she didn’t turn around. She stayed still as the newcomer approached where she was sitting. A few seconds later, the newcomer was sitting on the bench to her left, close enough for her to feel safe, far enough away to give a sense of privacy. Kez smiled as she turned to look at Aaron.

“How did you know I would be here?” she asked. Aaron was dressed in dark jeans and navy quarter-zip sweater.

“Daniel said something about your grandfather’s birthday,” Aaron said, as he looked at her. Kez gathered up the wrapper and dead flowers, and made to get up. However, she found that her legs had stiffened due to the length of time she had sat cross-legged. Aaron stood up and went over to her, bending down he held out his hands to help her up.

“How about I buy you lunch?” he said as they walked back to his car. Kez smiled and nodded, “Sounds like a great idea.”

Aaron would later tell her that he too had been to the cemetery, visiting Haley. Like Kez, he had talked to Haley about meeting someone who made him happy and how well Jack had taken to Kez. Aaron finally told Kez the whole story of the ‘dream’ he had had while he had been in the hospital.

#aaron hotchner #original character #criminal minds fic #grieving

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jade-eclipse-lithium · 2 years ago

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Maybe they will act normal in school.

Maybe you act nice.

You don’t understand my sense of humour.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.

What the hell does that mean?

An invented long word said to mean a lung disease caused by inhaling very fine ash and sand dust.

No, are you a genius now?

No, just separated them in different phonics and words.

Pneu/mono/ultra/microscopic/silico/volcano/coniosis

Pneu/mo/no/ul/tra/mi/cro/sco/pic/si/li/co/vol/ca/no/co/nio/sis

That looks dangerous.

A chair falling down? No, that looks dangerous.

Doing a splint?

Will you try and be nice?

I’ll give you a definitive maybe.

This is just a stage fright.

This is a full-blown panic attack!

You are a star, and that audience deserve to see you shine.

And the audience was not disappointed, they saw the brightest star that could ever shine in the universe.

You.

If you back me into a corner, i will whistle my way out of it.

So help me God, don’t make me blow this whistle.

School is a place for you to learn, not about fitting in the society.

If you are finding a way to exclude us students if we don’t “behave”, you don’t fit as educator.

You’re just a child!

Do i look like that i would be affect by that?

You’ll get killed by that.

So?

Your majesty!

My love.

But my liege our love is forbidden!

Let’s flea this place, just you and me.

Forever?

And ever.

Gtfo of my house.

Disproportionation means an element undergoes oxidation and reduction after a reaction.

…Did you recite that to make me feel dumb?

No, but i did want to know what that word means after know how to spell that word. Mostly to show off nerd stuff.

*gets out of my house in the morning for school

Hi neighbour

*gets back in my house

Hey don’t get back in your house.

*it’s too early to social

Thinking something is difficult, it’s only a state of mind. You think it’s hard simply because you don’t have fast solutions to it.

If you can solve it, it’s not a problem, hence it’s easy.

#incorrect quotes #family memes #memes #incorrect qoute #daily memes #funny memes #jade/eclipse

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drabbles-mc · 2 years ago

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the way part of me is coming into this kicking my feet and giggling and the other part of me is already crying. it's all very complicated yet very simple

Just, um, give me a bell when you can. Cheers -> why does this instantly just have me like 🥰🥰🥰🥰 i love him sm

fucked up her prep entirely -> IN HIS DEFENSE!!! i ALSO wouldn't be able to focus on my job if i was thinking about Marcus. Can confirm.

‘Got a friend and…Yeah, he’s been on my mind a lot. Haven’t been sleeping well.’ -> A FRIEND???? Luca stop fuckin lyyyyyin 😂😂

‘You gonna rub that in all day?’ / She shrugs. ‘Maybe all week.’ / ‘Alright, cool, I deserve a week.’ -> do you think....that Ali knows that I love her????? please make sure she knows I love her

‘And you’re dragging yourself through the same shit, along with him?’ -> it's because he ~lOvEs~ him

It’s easy to add things, fix the acid, sweeten the sour, but harder to take them away. -> mj fuck off why is this one of the best comparisons ever. why am i spinning in my office chair thinking about this

‘Fucking hell.’ He draws the fuck out, long and groaning, and presses his palms over his eyes. -> the way i am VIVIDLY picturing this *chefjustrightblob*

no fine tuning to be made on a relationship with no future -> the way I'm literally shaking over the use of the word Relationship in this context. Trembling over my keyboard

He looks like the fucking personification of pillow-talk. Amber lighting, bed-squashed hair, bare shoulders against his mattress. -> the way i instantly just, "Whore Activities" sksksksk 😂😂

‘Beats brunch though, right?’ / ‘Fuck brunch,’ -> absolutely adore the way that everyone in The Bear Universe hates brunch. A common enemy among all

‘Dunno,’ Luca humours, ‘the French?’ / ‘Probably the French, yeah.’ -> THE FRENCH 😂😂 Im fucking dying I love them so much

‘I was thinking I could come to Chicago.’ -> LETS FUCKING GO BABY!!!!!!!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

My remaining two weeks are yours, if you want them. -> fuck OFF why am i crying romance-novel level tears over this? why am i losing my entire mind? I'm drowning 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

‘I don’t know, man. I mean, that’s, it’s fucking crazy that you would do that for me—’ -> Marcus i am shaking you shaking you shaking you shaking y- JUST LET THE MAN SPEND SOME TIME WITH YOU!!! LET HIM FLY HALFWAY ACROSS THE WORLD FOR YOU!!!!

‘Well, I didn’t say anything about working.’ / ‘Come on, like you’d be able to help yourself.’ -> i wish they were barbies so i could smoosh their heads together and make them kiss

quiet in a way that’s only appropriate for Copenhagen. For his bedroom in the dark, after the turn of midnight. -> this is so soft and lovely. i want to cry. i just might. 🥹😭

‘Yeah, y’know, Costco might fix me,’ Marcus continues, laughing in between. ‘I will definitely do that.’ -> I'm stupidly, stupidly in love with this man

Then I’ll come to you, he should’ve said, it makes the most sense. And I’ll muck about whenever you need a break from me, do all the touristy shit, you know? Visit the Bean. -> the way I'm weeping. Why didn't you say it, Luca? Why didn't you open your big beautiful mouth????? 😭😭😭

GODDDD you really tagged this shit 'pining and un-satisfaction' and i went into it thinking that??? what???? i'd come out satisfied???? IM DYING 😭😭😭😭😭

will i be back for more??? OF COURSE 😭😭

night//morning - pt. 2

part one - ao3 link luca x marcus (or luca & marcus tbh), 2.6k, i have no idea what to label this i can't lie. pining and un-satisfaction tagging: @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting @garbinge @hausofmamadas (bear squad jeje)

Tuesday, 05:48:

‘Hey mate, um, hope you’re doing alright. Just thought I’d check in and, yeah, well, actually I had something I wanted to talk to you about. No rush, of course, but when you’ve got a minute—and everything’s, you know, less intense. Just, um, give me a bell when you can. Cheers.’

Seen, 22:53.

‘That’s not yours.’

Four ounces will do twelve, six will do eighteen.

‘Luca.’

‘Yes, chef?’

‘That’s not your dough.’

‘What?’ He straightens, palms stilling on the floured edges. ‘Shit. That’s the…’

‘The filo.’

‘The filo, right. Sorry.’ Not the shortcrust he’d made, but the pastry she’d taken out of the fridge herself. He’d even reached across her to grab it. Mind in the locker room behind, sense on the wood-panelled floor of his bedroom. He’s spun the filo into a useless ball in his daze, patted it with flour it didn’t need, fucked up her prep entirely. ‘That’s my fault, Ali.’

‘Yeah.’ She scoffs, but there’s no malice in it. There’s no time for that.

‘I’ll make more.’

Ali nods, eyeing him from the side as he sets about fixing his mistake.

It wasn’t an easily made mistake, it wasn’t even a common one. It was an absolutely absurd thing for anyone with even a crumb of kitchen experience to do. They both know that, so there’s no point in trying to pretend otherwise. In shutting the door for the sake of pride.

‘I haven’t been focusing,’ he says. Bowl, flour, oil. Bin the old and wipe down the counter before starting again. ‘Got a friend and…Yeah, he’s been on my mind a lot. Haven’t been sleeping well.’

She does him the mercy of ignoring the pause that slipped between friend and—friend and—to say, ‘I can tell,’ instead. ‘It’s not like you.’

He nods. ‘I know.’

‘To mistake filo for shortcrust.’

‘I know, mate.’ He laughs, smile spreading, all corners and teeth. ‘You gonna rub that in all day?’

She shrugs. ‘Maybe all week.’

‘Alright, cool, I deserve a week.’

But with Ali, it’s never a week, it’s twenty minutes and then it’s forgotten about, because stress sits on her like lead. Shoulders down, jaw tight. He never gets a word from her after opening. Whether he’d been her best friend that day, or the nitpicking prat by her ear.

‘Have you spoken to him about it?’ she asks, reaching for the shortcrust that he was supposed to be working with. Picking up slack like they’re trained to do. ‘Problems shared, and all that.’

‘Sent him a few voice notes.’ One, to be exact, three days after the last message Marcus had sent. ‘I don’t want to push him.’

‘So he’s going through some shit,’ she deducts. ‘And you’re dragging yourself through the same shit, along with him?’

He sighs, talking around the end of it, ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

‘You know what I’m going to say,’ she adds, throwing a smile that he only catches the shadow of. Wry and knowing.

‘Yeah.’ Can’t help anyone when you’re both in the mud. ‘Thanks, Ali.’

She nods, chin flicking to his half-made dough. ‘Thank me by working faster.’

‘Alright.’

Faster and more efficiently. More focused. He pushes his hands into the mix, knuckles deep, welcomes the attention it requires from him like a rope thrown overboard. A gnarled root on the edge of the pit.

For the rest of the day, that’s all there is. Ali as a silent partner, in tandem, in sync. Rudy talking about football through every break they overlap on. The mice in the bins, the customer sending his praises to the chef.

Open, service, shut. Then the cold of his pillow as he gets into bed again.

And still no reply from Marcus, either. Just a little thumbs up, pinned to the corner of his voice note, sent some time around lunch.

He’s seen it, at least, listened and agreed to get back to him when possible. So it’s Luca’s turn to wait again, because he can’t do more than that. Shouldn’t, even. It’s easy to add things, fix the acid, sweeten the sour, but harder to take them away. He has to remember that. At one end of the spectrum, is that shit with Frankie, and at the other? This mania he’s driving himself into with Marcus, brakes off, steam pluming.

It’s not like him. It’s deeply unlike him, even, he’s unfamiliar and stumbling because of it.

Control what you can, control the reaction to what you can’t.

‘Fucking hell.’ He draws the fuck out, long and groaning, and presses his palms over his eyes. Finally time to rest and he’s lying here thinking about it, turning it over and over, fold mix fold. ‘Get a grip, man.’

Marcus is fine. And he’s fine. There’s no way to perfect a recipe with an undecided end product, no fine tuning to be made on a relationship with no future. Spending this much of his time trying to do so, will only twist him further into the ground. Bury him neck deep.

His phone buzzes then—buzzes because it’s still on silent from work, audible against the wood of his bedside. He’s on it before it gets to the second round of vibrations. Taps answer before he realises it’s a video call, and not just the usual voice-only chat.

Marcus appears on his screen, well, the top half of his head does, the bottom is lost somewhere beneath the home button. ‘Shit,’ he laughs, ‘you answered too quick, man. I’m still—hang on.’

‘Yeah, course.’

It’s near black in Luca’s bedroom, his own image nothing but a pixelated blob of grey in the bottom corner. He clicks the lamp on while Marcus finishes whatever he’s doing and, God, shit, that won’t work. He looks like the fucking personification of pillow-talk. Amber lighting, bed-squashed hair, bare shoulders against his mattress.

He sits upright, and holds the phone at an appropriate angle.

‘Wasn’t expecting you to call this late,’ he says.

Marcus’s beanie bobs back into frame. ‘It’s only late for you, dude.’

‘Right, obviously.’

‘Sorry—there. All done.’ His face fills the screen at last, still angled like he’s got the phone sitting on his chest, but his smile is there now. Cheeks to either side of Luca’s phone. ‘You good?’

‘I’m alright.’ He nods. Puts his free arm across his chest, hand anchoring on the shoulder. ‘Are you on break?’

‘Nah, had the morning off to sort some things out. Heading over there now.’

‘Cool. Nice.’

‘Yeah, real fun.’ Marcus laughs, dry and unaffected. ‘Sure love spending the morning with some anaemic-looking dinosaur, going over Mom’s will.’

He mirrors the empty laugh, nodding alongside it. ‘Beats brunch though, right?’

‘Fuck brunch,’ Marcus quips.

It barks through his screen, passionate enough to make Luca laugh for real that time, a smile tugging on his lips.

‘Who the fuck invented giving up two meals for one?’

‘Dunno,’ Luca humours, ‘the French?’

‘Probably the French, yeah.’

He’s walking now, buildings passing by from the upwards angle Luca has access to. It’s raining, misting Marcus’s camera, and pearling on the knit of his hat. He walks a few more steps without saying anything else, head shaking like he’s still thinking about brunch.

‘Did you listen to my voice note?’ Luca asks, switching the rain-dropped Marcus into his other hand, and covering his chest in the opposite way.

‘Shit, yeah,’ his eyes flick down to the phone, into the camera, ‘was gonna ask. What’s up? You wanted to talk about something?’

‘Yeah, I did.’ And suddenly it’s back down his throat, fleeing and cloying to the sides. Unwilling to come to life. ‘I know you’ve been having a tough time of it.’

Marcus sighs, or scoffs, or whatever sort of frustrated, dissatisfaction sits in-between the two. ‘I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear on you.’

‘No, no, that’s not it,’ Luca corrects keenly. ‘I get it, it’s completely understandable, mate. But I’ve been thinking—well, wracking my brain, really, over what I could do to help out.’ Drag it back, claw it out. ‘And I settled on coming to Chicago,’ he says. ‘I think.’

‘What?’

‘I was thinking I could come to Chicago.’ It’s easier the second time. Goes out of him like it isn’t an utterly absurd, completely over-stepping, gesture. ‘I've got some holidays to use up, y’know, been saving them for something important.’

Marcus frowns slightly, staring ahead like Luca’s there and not sitting under his chin. ‘Shouldn’t you be using it to, I don’t know, see your family or something? Go back home?’

He could do that in a weekend. Could go for a day, once a week, if it really compelled him. ‘I mean, Mum’s in Copenhagen so often she may as well buy a flat here, and Frankie. Well, yeah, you know.’

‘Would sooner close the borders than have you back,’ he says, with half a smile printed in his cheek.

‘Mhm. So. My remaining two weeks are yours, if you want them.’

The lump’s back in his throat again, this time paired with a creeping heat in the shell of his ears. Marcus says nothing, head tilting like he’s physically weighing up the idea, a set of scales balanced between his eyes. Luca’s offer slow-rolling between the two.

It feels like three minutes pass in wait of it. Four now. The room’s silent minus the tinny echo of downtown Chicago, cracking through the line. He pulls his knees up, bent, to balance his arm and the phone on top of them.

‘You really wanna stay here?’ Marcus asks eventually.

He shrugs, watching himself do it in the corner of his screen. Easier to look there than— ‘I can get a hotel,’ he suggests.

‘No, I mean,’ he looks down at Luca, ‘you really wanna waste your vacation days on me?’

‘Yeah,’ he replies, thick with sarcasm, ‘call it self-flagellation.’

‘Self-what?’ Marcus laughs. ‘Come on, none of your cryptic shit when I’m being serious, please.’

‘Sorry.’ He smiles. ‘Bad joke. But it wouldn’t be a waste, Marcus.’

And he knows better than to think of it like that, because he knows Luca, right? Even if it’s only in that surface level, co-worker sense—which it isn’t, it can’t be—because he knows Luca isn’t one for waste. Ever. Not when he’s paying attention, that is.

‘Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to,’ he adds, once the silence starts to itch again.

Marcus sighs. ‘I don’t know, man. I mean, that’s, it’s fucking crazy that you would do that for me—’

‘Steady on, it’s not just for you.’ He laughs, voice full of fake offence. ‘I like holidays too, y’know?’

A tsk scuffs through the phone. ‘No you don’t, man.’

‘Alright,’ he knows him, ‘but I am long overdue.’ Outside of the kitchen, he knows him. ‘Been promising Carm for years,’ he says. Heat along the top of his ears, skin reddening down his neck, hidden by the orange of the bedside. ‘I’m sure he’d be glad to see me.’

‘Yeah,’ Marcus nods, ‘would be glad to have you in the Beef, too.’

‘Well, I didn’t say anything about working.’

‘Come on, like you’d be able to help yourself.’

‘I might.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

The silence steps back in; uninvited, between the laughs, over the unfinished hypotheticals. He watches Marcus duck under a low portion of scaffolding, then nod in a no problem way, as he pauses to let someone past. A whole world in his palm, a snapshot of a day he’s already lived through.

‘What’s your hesitation?’ he asks, quiet in a way that’s only appropriate for Copenhagen. For his bedroom in the dark, after the turn of midnight. ‘About me coming?’

Marcus shrugs, he assumes, only able to see the upside-down crescent that his mouth forms with it. ‘Guess I was kind of hoping to get out of here myself.’

‘We can do that,’ Luca answers, far too quick. Sharp enough to invite another silence in, hand on the door, fingers catching the edge of it. ‘You should, I mean. It’d be good for you.’

If Marcus notices the fumble, he chooses to ignore it. ‘Thing is, I can’t imagine myself leaving right now. Y’know, going far from home, incase I…’ He laughs without the spirit of it. ‘Man, fuck, I don’t really have a reason, do I?’

Luca shakes his head. It makes sense. He’s seen it before. ‘I get it,’ he says.

‘Really? Cause I’m feeling like all my logic is mad crazy right now. Keep doing shit and I don’t even know why.’

‘It’s normal.’

‘Is it?’

‘Were you wanting me to disagree?’

He holds his frown just long enough to make Marcus crack, teeth flashing as he smiles. ‘Okay, yes, I wanted you to tell me I’m not crazy.’

‘You’re not crazy,’ Luca obliges.

‘Thank-you.’

A nod. It’s nothing. ‘So where do people from Chicago go, when they don’t want to leave Chicago?’ he asks, lying back onto the pillows at last. He’s been slouching deeper and deeper as the call goes on, and it’s starting to bite. Numb-ache tugging between his shoulder blades. He needs his spine flat, stretched out. He hovers phone-Marcus over his face while his arm can tolerate it still.

‘I have no idea,’ Marcus answers, back to looking ahead of him. Into the road Luca has no view of. ‘Fucking…Costco?’

Luca snorts. Then he lifts his eyebrows, head tilting, like it’s a plausible option, something worth considering. Costco hotdogs and a Coke. He’d take it, if the offer was there.

‘Yeah, y’know, Costco might fix me,’ Marcus continues, laughing in between. ‘I will definitely do that.’

The smirk toys in the corner of Luca’s lips again. ‘I’m glad we could sort something, mate.’

‘Plus, it saves you buying a plane ticket.’

‘Yeah.’ He swallows, back to watching himself in the corner of the screen. A square of gold over the blue of Marcus’s jumper. Tired eyes watching tired eyes, slow blinks in-between. ‘I should probably head off,’ he says. ‘Getting late.’

‘Shit,’ he glances down, ‘I’m always messing with your sleep, dude. My bad.’

‘Yeah-no, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you called.’ His arm’s aching, and the phone drops slightly as he tries to maintain it. ‘It’s good to speak to you.’

Marcus is indoors now, having just stepped from the grey sky into the bright, man-made lighting of the Beef. ‘Hit me up tomorrow?’ he asks, with a quickness that gives Luca no time to do anything but nod in reply. ‘Sweet.’

‘Have a good day, man.’

‘Yeah, you too.’ He corrects himself. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’

The call ends, Marcus’s image replaced by the blinding white of their text conversation, that thumbs up emoji staring back at him again.

There’s no relief now that his idea’s been voiced, because he’d barely even argued the case. Marcus didn’t want to travel, it was right there, even after his hesitation, the stone through the stream. Then I’ll come to you, he should’ve said, it makes the most sense. And I’ll muck about whenever you need a break from me, do all the touristy shit, you know? Visit the Bean.

He sighs and lays the phone flat on his bare chest, screen going dark after a few passing breaths.

Marcus was right, it was crazy of him to even offer to do that. Like throwing slate into a lake and expecting it to float. Another angle then, another gift in the post, maybe, one that neither of them can talk out of existence.

Or maybe nothing at all.

He switches the light off, night blanketing him. Tomorrow. He can think about it tomorrow.

#marcus #marcus brooks #luca #luca the bear

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leejungchans · 3 years ago

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impulsive : h.js

word count | 1.1 k

pairing | joshua hong (svt) x gender neutral reader

warning(s) / includes | food mentions, kissing (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour(ish), university au, established relationship au, joshua’s flirty in this idk what else to say <3

summary: in which you help your boyfriend with yet another one of his 2am impulse decisions.

a/n: happy birthday @joshuas i lob you berry berry much and so does joshua!! i said most of what i wanted to say to you on discord so i won’t ramble hehe <33 wishing you a very lovely day and i hope you like this ;-;

Finals week has truly driven everyone insane, your boyfriend far from exempted.

“Why that face?” Joshua whines upon seeing the appalled look you send his way. “This can’t be worse than what happened last week.”

You’d really rather if he didn’t bring up the past Monday when you came home to him and Seokmin slurping up ramen at the dining table after their study session. Perfectly innocuous, until your gaze lowers to quickly find their feet dunked into a tub of ice water.

They claimed it was so they could enjoy their ramen better, you claimed that side effects of studying Science Communication for five hours straight include insanity.

“It’s 2am, we’re both in a state of studying-induced delirium, and you want me to dye your hair? Now?”

“Yup!” Joshua chirps, much too hyper for someone at 2am. He slides off his chair and hurries into your bathroom, emerging seconds later holding a box. “I already bought the dye,” he says, nudging the box closer to you, “I just need some help to make sure it’s applied evenly!”

You glance between the box and the blonde hair sitting atop his head, a result of yet another impulse decision caused by cramming just a week ago. “You sure, Shua?” you ask, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sure,” he reassures. “Plus—this is a time for experimentation! And it’s just hair!”

“Well, yes, but I meant you trust me to do it for you? What if I burn it off?”

Joshua hardly seems fazed, his head thrown back slightly as he lets out a hearty laugh. “You won’t, baby. It’ll be fine, though you’re not allowed to leave me if I end up bald.”

You snort at his lighthearted jest, choosing to scan the instructions printed on the box instead of meeting his eyes as you admit, “Don’t worry, I’ll still love you even if you’re an egg.”

“Even sunny-side up?”

“Don’t push it.”

“She’s staring at me.”

“Lovingly!”

“It’s creepy! Flip it over, please!”

“You’re the bossiest hairdresser ever,” Joshua jokes, but he does as you request anyways and turns his phone over so the screen faces up instead. “You’re so mean to her,” he pouts at you through the mirror. Her, as in the bunny splayed across his phone case. Admittedly, it can be cute on some days, but at 2am when you’re squished between Joshua and the wall of your bathroom with the flickering bulb—you make a mental reminder to buy a replacement one—its beady eyes seem to follow your every movement.

Either that, or the pungent stench of hair dye has already killed off a few of your brain cells and is making you see things. You definitely have a newfound sense of respect for hairdressers after today.

“I think we’re done,” you inform, giving his sectioned hair one last check to ensure the dye is even before helping him put on a flimsy shower cap, and you can’t help but think how it makes him look a little like one of those lunch ladies in the school cafeteria. “What now? The box said to wait half an hour.”

“We—” His stomach lets out an answering rumble before he can finish his thought, prompting you to stifle a giggle as he looks up at you with a sheepish smile. “Well, I guess now we know what we can do.”

Ten minutes later, you find yourselves huddled around the stove and slurping from a pot of steaming ramen, bowls out of the question because no one wants to do more dishes than necessary at such an ungodly hour.

“I can’t believe we’re eating ramen this late,” Joshua comments, his tongue peeking out from between his pink lips to catch the drop of broth threatening to dribble onto his chin. “My face is gonna be so swollen tomorrow morning!”

“What a tragedy that’d be.” Your reply is disinterested, partly because you can’t bring yourself to care all too much when you’re spending the next few days cooped up in your apartment anyways, and partly because you know your “hunk of a boyfriend” (his words, not yours) will still look better than ninety percent of the human population even with a puffy face.

Besides, you added two eggs in there for protein, so if you convince yourself hard enough you might just believe it’s healthy.

Being his personal hairdresser and now risking a puffy face—you suppose these are the things you do for Joshua Hong out of love.

“Will you be paying with cash or credit?”

Despite the halfhearted roll of the eyes you receive, the corners of Joshua’s lips curve gratefully. Gone is the blonde, now replaced by an ashy brown with just enough warmth to complement his pretty features perfectly. You’re surprised it turned out even, more surprised by how incredible he looks with the new colour.

“Very funny, baby.”

“I’m dead serious. Cash or credit?”

His gaze meets yours in the mirror, the corners of his lips curving up seductively. You know he’s being playful, at least for the most part, but the sight still has your heart taking flight and fluttering around in your rib cage. “What about I pay in kisses?”

Your smile mirrors his in mirth. “Mm… tempting, but no.”

You don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he gets up from the chair and brings a hand up to his hair, his smirk growing when he realises you’re enraptured by how the brown strands pass between his elegant fingers.

“What if I make it a really good kiss?” he murmurs, letting his soft lips graze the shell of your ear. The ticklish sensation has goosebumps rising on your skin in an instant, and an invisible fire burns a scorching path up your neck towards your cheeks.

A giggle bubbles up from your chest as he backs you against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, his arms easily wrapping around you to pull you impossibly close. Warmth radiates from him when he leans in and rests his forehead on yours, eyes dripping with adoration and love boring into your own. “Well?”

“Just kiss me, Joshua,” you laugh.

And he does—eyes fluttering shut, finger crooking underneath your chin to tilt your head up, lips stretching into a sweet grin before he presses them to yours. He kisses you tenderly, softly, as though you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen in his life. Perhaps you are, just as how he is the most treasured presence in your life.

So you kiss Joshua back with just as much enthusiasm, and hope he feels the endless bounds of your love.

a/n: :hehecat: i hope this is shuawife approved <333 thank you for reading and if you liked this please consider leaving some feedback :’)) it helps me a lot as a writer 💗

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tootiredforaname · 3 years ago

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had thoughts about soulmate aus as dystopias, merged that with the boys hyperfixation, here we are

(Butcher is at odds with the nature of soulmates.)

Mum used to tell the story of how she met dad. Coming into the graduation party soaked from the rain. Her friends daring her to ask the boy across the way for a dance, and the way his hair shone in the dim lights as she staggered over. How she stuttered out the question as her heart beat through her ribcage. The sparking moment he took her hand, and everything around them froze in place to let her hear his slurred laugh. Like angels singing. The story always ended with them dancing into the morning, never letting each other go. Then a kiss on Billy's cheek as she told him to have sweet dreams.

Smashed china, beer bottles carpeting the floor, blank staring at the wall waiting for him to stumble back from the pub, she never mentioned them. The stories were meant to send Billy to sleep, but he was always up past midnight, trying to stitch together the shiny man in mum's head with whoever slept next to her now.

"You take care of your soulmate," she said once, while Billy dropped dad's empties into the bottle back behind Tesco's. She would do it herself, but her hands were so blistering red from bleaching the smell out of the kitchen tiles that she couldn't stand getting dripped on. She kept asking for that fancy hand cream off the telly, but there was always something more important to buy. "You take care of them."

(Maybe it was a joke.)

Lennie never met his soulmate. Hardly anyone that young does. The priest made sure everyone knew they weren't only mourning Lennie, but the future that could have been. "Perhaps, if they had been part of the lucky few who met early, we would not be here today."

"It's tragic, how someone can be so selfish," one of the Irish cousins said. "His soulmate's all alone in the world now."

(Billy always knew how to fight. Here's where he learned to enjoy it.)

Butcher let his visa run out in the States. Mainly because the yanks had better drugs, maybe because most soulmates are the same nationality. Leave all that back across the pond, drown the rest in gin and fentanyl.

Of course, then Becca came along, and oh.

Becca, Becca, Becca.

The chainsmoker who took a lend of his lighter and never gave it back. With crows feet from smiling so hard so long, and a singing voice too reedy to make up for her shit music taste. Who hadn't met her soulmate at twenty-five and wasn't much bothered by it. Who dip-dyed her hair so she could cut the purple ends off to visit grandma. Who didn't give a rat's arse about what was written in the stars.

(If the universe had any sense, it would have set her up with some nice millionaire instead of convincing her the best she could do was Butcher.)

Billy let his guard down. Stopped planning for an empty bed or a note left in the night. He could wake up wrapped in Becca's arms without that sick stab of relief. On the best mornings, when the sun lit Becca up gold and neither of them had to go anywhere, he could curl up against her and fall right back asleep. He trusted her when she said they were building something together.

(The universe either has the same sense of humour as mum, or it fucking hates him.)

(Back to the gin and fentanyl.)

It's not about Homelander. Butcher knows that, in the darkest part of him. If life's as set in stone as people like to think, then Homelander isn't the thing at fault.

So when a gangly twink asks if he's interested in nanny cams, and the air around them shudders like angels sighing with relief, and the kid's eyes go wide as the moon, and the darkest part of Butcher's heart flutters its wings-

(Well. There's plenty of grieving widows in this city.)

#the boys fic #billy butcher #becca butcher #hughie's there for like three lines but shhhh #lennie butcher #billy x becca #a becca version is probably coming so. watch out #butchie #a bit #butcher x hughie

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jeskoholic · 3 years ago

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A Little Piece of You: Chapter 3 Love Potion

This is chapter 3 of an ongoing series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist here.

---

“Your face is really red, you know.”

Those were the first batches of words I heard from Ningning as I perched alongside her. I thought I wanted to retort back with a snarky and clever sentence but my head was too bungled up with everything to even think of something funny. If it was not for the glass-protected railings of the Penthouse, I might have pushed my glass to fall on the street below just for humour. Yeah, I was THAT drunk, yet ironically I was aware of the urge. Anyway, I didn’t even immediately process what Ningning had said to me and I merely smiled in return in the hopes of covering how drunk I really was.

“It’s always been like this for me, so I’m pretty much used to it. I tried drinking a couple of times before and it always turned out like this. I’m surprised that you’re not back at the table exchanging stories with the rest of them, by the way. It seems like Soyeon’s ranting here and there. She could use your advice, you know… I don’t think there’s any good advice she could get from us guys.”

“I’m not really good in that aspect so I don’t think that there’s that much I could do. I’m just trying to let the alcohol pass, that’s why I’m here. I think I drank way too much it’s getting on my senses.”

“That seems to be the case, yeah. You were guzzling those glasses as if they were your last, you know.”

“You’re one to talk. I saw you do the exact same thing and treating the liquor as if it’s just another kind of drink… a juice, perhaps or even refreshment. I’m surprised that you could still walk to the rest room without knocking anything over.”

“Well, they call it beginner’s luck,” I said as I smiled back. “I’m just here curious how this entire idea feels like. My sister’s not entirely cool with it, but I guess once won’t hurt now, won’t it? Plus, the cocktail… the so-called ‘Love Potion’… it really tastes good once you really get used to it. It’s more of a satisfying beverage at some point. If only I would not get really dizzy after drinking more, I would have beckoned myself for another glass.”

Ningning smiled after a short silence broke, and then she continued.

“There’s no way this is just going to be a one-time thing; not when Hongseok’s in the friend group and even Kyungsoo, even Shinwon for that matter. It’s almost impossible to decline a huge invite especially when you’re not really paying for anything.”

“At least I have good role models, I guess. How about you? Drinking too much like that could only mean something, especially from the point of view of a person who really does not drink a lot. Do you have a problem, by any chance? I might not look much but I think I can help… maybe….”

God what on earth am I saying to her?

“I just figured I could use a break,” she replied with a shake of her head. “University work is literally beating the shit out of me. A little distraction would be nice, which is why I’m here. It won’t solve anything directly, but at least I get to relax and take a breather.”

“Ah, I know a good distraction; I discovered a small coffee shop not far from the Uni’s main gate. You should check it out. They serve really good coffee.”

For the first time since standing beside her, Ningning turned her gaze and actually faced me; her eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight.

“I mean, it’s a good unwinding spot if you have nothing to do,” I continued. I honestly don’t know what I’m even saying at this point. Random bullshit, go, I guess.

Let’s just hope that it works. It’s the alcohol that’s making me talk.

“I’ve actually been there,” she replied while still keeping her gaze on me. “They do serve good drinks. It just annoys me sometimes that there are a lot of people who stay there when I need a seat, and that is saying that it happened to me a lot of times now.”

“It’s a testament to how good their coffee is. I think I’ve tried almost every single one of it so I can testify; it really is good.”

Before I could even continue, I was startled by the sound of Ningning actually bringing her barely filled glass between us with a nod, as if she’s trying to imply a toast for us both.

Of course it was a universally recognizable gesture and so I beckoned ahead and clanged my glass with hers. We then both proceeded to drink the remainder of our glasses as we gazed off into the evening.

“So you’re trying to loosen the alcohol up as well, huh?” she asked amidst the ensuing silence.

“I am. I certainly don’t want to go home like this, despite how late it is in the evening already.”

“You can do that while staying on the table, though. You said it yourself that Soyeon’s ranting about something; if anything she could use your advice more than mine. No matter how stupid it sounds, I think it’s better if it’s coming from you rather than me,” added Ningning. “You seem to be the type who’s into those kinds of things. You had that aura about you.”

“Yeah I really didn’t catch the whole story since the beginning so all I’m hearing now are her frustrations. I might end up saying some things that are not what she wants to hear, especially with this confidence that the Love Potion has given me.”

Ningning smiled.

“Well, if you’re trying to loosen up before heading home, I suggest you stay here longer. Your face is really red I could easily mistake you for a tomato. Surely you won’t like for your sister to see you like that now, would you? I certainly won’t let you head home with that face either; definitely not.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t really intend to—“

“YAH…!” interrupted the shrill voice of Soyeon going louder than the blaring music. It was enough to sway both Ningning and me and turn towards her for the sudden commotion, just in case it was something that was going wrong. However, it could also be that she’s just answering back to either of the guys she was talking to, and the shrill voice mas merely and emphasis on her point. It turns out; she actually yelled out of spite and pointed towards both our directions.

“YOU TWO JUST MET AND YET YOU’RE ALREADY DATING IN FRONT OF ME. YOU DARE YOU DO THAT TO A PERSON THAT JUST CAME FROM A HEART BREAK, ESPECIALLY YOU, YOON JAE-IN!”

“Oh my god, she’s drank so much it’s already getting to her head,” Ning whispered to my left. “You got to forgive her; not all people let the alcohol pass like we do.”

“We’re not dating, Soyeon-ssi; we’re just letting the drink pass down!” I called back towards her.

“’NOT DATING’ MY ASS; YOU WERE SECONDS AWAY FROM KISSING NING! I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED IF IT WERE ME, JAE-IN!”

My god, it’s turning weirder and weirder by the second. The fact that my other drunken friends are joining on the train by laughing their asses off certainly did not help the situation. Fuck.

“Can you please do a new friend a favour and head back there for me? They won’t listen to me at this point because they’ll just tease me,” Ningning asked before she turned her back again towards the dark horizon, swatting my face with her lengthy hair in the process.

I nodded in response although I’m still not sure what she’s implying I do. I was actually about to head back to the table when I was greeted by the sight of Soyeon leaving the table first. Kino was already napping while Kyungsoo transferred his attention to the still-talking Shinwon and Yeri; perhaps wanting to put them on the hot seat. Soyeon was clearly out of her balance, tripping almost on every stool that was placed in front of her and sending some of them crashing around. I immediately went out and caught her just as she was close to both Ningning and I’s positions, her breathe clearly emanating a strong tinge of the Love Potion’s remnants.

“I knew that you were such a gentleman, Jae-in,” she said with a dreamy haze, supplying me with a wide smile as she rested her weight on my body. “You looked really good under the moon and stars for tonight, you know.”

Wow, she’s so different when she’s drunk. Oh my god.

“Ning,” Soyeon said towards the figure of the other girl resting on the terrace. “Do you mind if I borrow Jae-in from you for a couple of minutes? I might not bring him back though; I got something serious to tell him…”

‘Something serious’…? What is going on between us that she has ‘something serious’ to tell me?

I was expecting, and half-heartedly wishing, that Ningning would just say ‘no’ due to Soyeon being really drunk in her current state, but instead I got a mere flick of the wrist from Ningning as if to say that she’d care less if Soyeon takes me for her own. Of course, there was a part of panic within me, but then again I doubt there’s anything Soyeon could do on her current state. Ningning then proceeded to down her throat with the remaining liquid on her glass.

Jeon Soyeon pulled me with such surprisingly vigorous force despite her drunken state away from Ningning, and eventually, away from the rest of the table. I was sobered up a bit after talking to Ning by the ledge, and now I was able to notice how empty the boathouse as well as the entire rooftop had been. I lost track of time for sure, but I guess in these types of places, staying up pretty late is quite a normal practice. There were literally no other people present in these premises, and I think the next batches of tables were filled with sleeping people who unfortunately got gut by the alcohol.

Soyeon and I went through the boathouse and beyond, settling both of us far from the main table of our group and into the darker, farther part of the place where we were clearly out of earshot. Her choice of seat perfectly concealed us from the view of the table, and the perfectly placed post further shrouded any evidence that we were even there. Both of us collapsed on the leather seats with Soyeon blocking my view of the table for good.

This must be really serious then if she’s letting me sit here with her away from everyone else.

I just can’t think of anything on the top of my head as to why she’d resort to doing this. What’s the huge deal?

Also… why me? Soyeon and I barely even talked during our lunch out, and we really haven’t had a long enough conversation between us so why would she even begin to trust me with something that only I am supposed to know? I don’t get it.

I don’t get any of it.

“This seems really serious. I just don’t get why you would talk to me instead of the others, Soyeon-ssi.”

“I just… I just wanted to talk to you… in private, Jae-in,” she replied, barely even keeping her voice on point. “I need it to specifically be you, otherwise this won’t work.”

“Are you okay? Aren’t you sleepy already? If you can’t drink, don’t force yourself anymore. Sooner or later we’re already going home anyway. We certainly can’t let you go home if you’re drunk like your current state.”

“Then, if they won’t let me go home alone, why don’t you take me with you instead?”

What?

Surprisingly, Soyeon then wrapped her right hand around my neck as if to embrace me. I knew she was drunk, but that gesture felt really concise and something told me that she was fully aware of what she was doing.

“Soyeonah,” I said, holding her hand with my own in the hopes of moving it out of my neck soon. “You’re really drunk. I think you should sober up a bit because you’re starting to go all over the place. Let’s head back to the table and clean-up with everyone else.”

I was about to stand when I felt her hand prevent me from even standing up. Once again, I looked back to her in utmost effort despite the faint light of the boathouse.

“Please don’t leave me here alone, Jae-in. I just want to talk to you and I haven’t gotten to my point just yet. Please, can you just spare me a couple of minutes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Can you promise me that you’re not feeling dizzy or anything?”

“I can promise you that. I may be a bit tipsy but I sure know what I’m doing.”

Well, I guess I’ll just have to put up with this. I don’t think that I have a way out of it anyway.

“So how are the first impressions doing for you currently?” she asked.

“Everything’s going really well so far… at least I got to say that having alcohol in me gave me courage to talk to you and Ningning otherwise I would not have given in. I’m normally just a shy and timid guy who waits for people to come talk to me.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Jae-in… I really look forward to drinking often with you because you seem to be a really fun guy to drink with.”

“I… I honestly cannot agree with you on that. I don’t know what else I bring to the table other than my presence.”

“Really now…? I don’t think that’s what I saw when I first saw you on the lunch out… I’ve had my eye on you since then, you know… you’re really effortlessly… attractive.”

She’s really drunken her ass off oh my god.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that, Soyeonnie.”

“You don’t have to say anything to that… it’s just the sheer truth. You’re very outspoken and shy like you said, and probably won’t even agree to whatever I’m going to tell you right now… but you don’t have to. I know you won’t anyway, but please let me voice out what I see in you… can you let me do that for tonight, Jae-in-oppa?”

“O-Of course, I can’t see any reason why I won’t let you do that…”

What the heck is going on?

A brief silence emerged between both of us with the loud party music blaring on the background. Even though I was seated right next to her, I could barely even see the outline of her face thanks to the limited lighting. I fell silent, quite unsure of what to tell her, and so I merely stared at the broadcast on the television above.

And then, I felt Soyeon’s head rest on my left shoulder.

---

Soyeon’s gesture alone sent thousands of signals throughout Jae-In’s body like an electric jolt. However, it quickly subsided as soon as he realized what the cause might have been. He then immediately turned towards her figure and spoke.

“Soyeonnie, are you okay? Are you already sleepy?”

“No, I’m not, Jae-in-oppa… I just… I just wanted to rest on your shoulder because I can’t take it anymore…”

What Jae-in thought was just a product of his imagination turned out to be true as Soyeon’s eyes began to get flooded with tears, streaming down her prevalent cheeks and down towards his very shoulder. There was a split-second of panic with Jae-in as he really had no idea how to deal with a crying person, ever more so a girl that he barely just met recently. The fact that it was also Soyeon, a person he viewed to be really open and easy-going, be the person who’s breaking down in front of him felt something that appeared out of nowhere. Regardless, any illusions of leaving Soyeon there and joining the rest of the group were thrown off of the window.

There was no way he’d leave her, not when she just shed every barrier in front of him like that.

“Soyeonnie… are… are you alright…?”

It felt a really cliché thing to ask, pointless even, because it was already obvious that she was crying and that she’s not, but it was the only thing that Jae-in could muster for having to react on such a sudden event.

“We… we have our personal reasons on drinking out t-tonight right…?” Soyeon continued on amidst her eventual crying. “I know that you wanted to try things out… but d-do you know why I c-came here to drink?”

“I… I have no idea; Soyeonnie… is it the same reason as everyone else…? Did you want to meet some new people like we all wanted when we first got added to the messaging group?”

“Maybe that’s what people like you want… I’m just happy to meet some new friends as well, but I also figured it would be nice to lull myself in alcohol this evening… especially because I got to meet an amazing person such as you, Jae-in…”

“You’re putting me too much on a pedestal. I don’t think you’ve know me enough to say how much of an impact I actually do to people, Soyeonnie. I told you… I’ve always been the background character and I’m perfectly fine with that… I’m sorry but I don’t think I deserve the praise that you’re giving me.”

Silence erupted which lasted for about a couple of minutes. Jae-in was not sure whether that was because Soyeon finally caught up to what he was trying to make her understand, or if she’s just too tired to even argue back because the conversation would yield no fruit in that aspect whatsoever. It was an awkward position for sure, but since Soyeon did not show any signs of stopping her crying any time soon, Jae-in thought of ways to comfort her as her friend.

Slowly, he lifted his free arm and brought it behind Soyeon and gave her a soft caress of comfort. He tried to make it as casual as possible; certainly the last thing he’d like to happen was for Soyeon to think that he’s taking advantage of her current state.

“D-do you want to know why I went off drinking tonight?” Soyeon asked.

“Why…?”

“My boyfriend… well ex now… we broke up yesterday… he broke up with me.”

Oh shit

“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry to hear that… I didn’t know… you didn’t seem to have a problem when I first saw you a while back.”

Was that even what I was supposed to say to her?

“It’s okay… I know that I don’t really show too much… I got really good at that ever since we had a fall out two months ago…”

In Jae-in’s head, there’s no real reason for Soyeon to tell him of her life story precisely because they had just met, but also he had to consider that perhaps it was her way of breaking the ice between them. Maybe in Soyeon’s perspective, it’s easier to open up like that and anchor their friendship for something else. The other half of him, however, still felt puzzled nonetheless.

“We’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” she continued. “But it’s about two months ago that we just had a huge disagreement that lead to him treating me differently… things never became the same ever since. I tried to console him and save what was left of our relationship… I even went to Gangnam to see him; booked us a trip to Jeju for everything, but he refused to meet up with me… he told me to get lost and yesterday, he called it off already…”

“I’m… that’s too harsh, Soyeon… I’m sorry that you had to experience that.”

Soyeon began to sob really hard after recalling the story, flooding Jae-in’s shoulders with more tears as she gently rubbed her eyes against his sleeve.

“It is okay; Soyeonnie… let it all out. It’s better than keeping it in. I’ll listen to you.”

“Is there something wrong with me, Jae-in? Am I not enough that every guy I seem to date end up breaking up with me? Am I not enough?”

“Shh… don’t say that to yourself… you’re enough, Soyeon. You’re more than enough.”

“Then why do I always end up miserable?”

“Maybe you’re just picking the wrong guys; I guess… maybe you’re always choosing the ones who don’t value you, or who don’t see the value in you…”

“What made you say so?”

Oh shit, I haven’t thought of this through…

“You’re really talented, Soyeonnie…. Not everyone can write songs the same rate that you do. Kyungsoo told me what you’re capable of. Not just that as well… even though we really haven’t gotten that time to interact too much, I could tell how much of a caring and loving person you are. Let’s just say that… in a theoretical situation where you’re my girlfriend, I would consider myself really lucky. It’s an honour to be dating the one Jeon Soyeon… I guess it’s just the guys who were really after your fame rather than your heart that you often meet…”

“You can see those traits in me, Jae-in-oppa?”

“Yeah… actually I’m envious of your boyfriend… or ex, sorry. I mean, not in a romantic way or… yeah. The point is, he managed to get a girl like you and yet I can’t even move past the friendship border with the people I get to like. I really don’t know what else to do after ‘hello’, which is perhaps the reason why I can’t find a girlfriend after my last one, did not totally work out. The standards of the people I end up liking were too high that I can’t even fathom.”

“Is that true…? Aren’t you being a bit too hard on yourself?”

“It’s just the truth…”

“What if there’s someone here who’s starting to like you, do you think that they’d like to hear those words escaping your lips?”

“I honestly cannot imagine that someone would do that. I’m not exactly a person who appeals to the majority of the girls, especially on NLU’s standards. It would take a huge bunch of luck if I’d—“

Before he could even finish his sentence, Jae-in was immediately silenced by a soft slap coming from Soyeon’s side. The small gesture was more than enough for him to transfer his gaze to her, only received by Soyeon’s own piercing gaze as she tightened her hold on Jae-in’s neck.

“What if I told you that I’m starting to like you, Yoon Jae-in?”

#kpop fluff #kpop gg #girl group #fanfic #kpop #gidle #aespa kpop #drunktimes

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nokingsonlyfooles · 2 years ago

Text

WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 10

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Part 10: Disaster Roulette: DEATH and Abigail Thorn

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: Darkness, with the All Hail Gozer logo in the corner.]

A: What the fuck? Isn’t it my pick again? Are we back on the fucking Kursk? [starting to panic] Are we all out of picks? Is this an endless loop? Oh my God… I’m not running Unreal Engine anymore!

D: Hang on, hang on… Laptops open, everyone! Are we all here?

L: We’re here! But, uh…

R: We’re on a sofa.

A: The Kursk doesn’t have a fucking sofa!

[footsteps, rustling]

R: I found a lamp…

D: I’ve got a light switch over here…

[click]

L: It’s a house?

D [annoyed]: It’s a flat.

A: Sort of a nondescript twee little flat…

R: There’s a microwave, and some dishes…

L: Is that Thomas the Tank Engine over there?

A: Where the hell are we?

L: Gandalf, buddy, is this your place?!

D: What does a lamassu want with a sofa and a microwave?

L: Comfort and convenience, my friends. Comfort and convenience!

A: And Thomas the Tank Engine?

L: Maybe he likes trains, I dunno…

A: Do you smell something burning?

R: [sniffing] Smells like… Substandard aluminum composite rain screen cladding?

A: GET OUT RIGHT NOW! DO NOT SHELTER IN PLACE! GET OUT NOW!

[SLIDE: The Grenfell Tower Fire.]

[running, scuffing, door slam]

[coughing]

L: FUCK!

A: Oh, fuck, oh…

R: Stuff that throw rug under it!

D: Who picked this? We wouldn’t pick this! We’d never…

L: We’ve had four picks, right, guys? The Kursk, the Silver Bridge, the Atmospheric Railway and Frankford Junction…

D: So shouldn’t it loop back around to Alice?

A: I didn’t pick this.

L: I think… I think Gozer picked this.

A [resigned]: Yeah. I mean, xe seems very into fire. And strategically speaking…

D: Can you see out the window? Are we over the 11th floor?

A: It doesn’t matter, no one’s coming to rescue us. If it’s any consolation, the smoke will probably get us before… before anything more dramatic happens.

D: Don’t give up! Don’t lose hope! It’s still before dawn, we’ve got time — we’ve got hours! As long as we keep podcasting…

L: Dev…

A: Dev, we barely made it through this one in the first place…

D: But you did make it through! We can do this! We know we can do this! We… We have pitch black senses of humour and indomitable human spirits. There is nothing we can’t laugh at. How… How is this any worse than the existential trauma of hurtling through space on a lonely planet with full knowledge that you and everything you ever loved or cared about will inevitably die? Our situation is fundamentally pointless and absurd, and this is how humanity copes! Fuck Gozer! Somebody make a joke about how many Xboxes you could buy with the government’s totally inadequate restitution and let’s go!

[brief silence]

D: Come on! This isn’t worse than Aberfan! This isn’t worse than fucking Bhopal!

L: We didn’t have to sit in an apartment in Bhopal and stare at some probably-dead kid’s Thomas the Tank Engine.

D: Rocz! You spent over a minute cackling after you found out Ruth Bader Ginsberg just died! Surely you…?

R: While it is often said that comedy equals tragedy plus time, I believe it may be more accurate to express “time” as “distance.” Laughter, as we call it, is the sound of a shock-induced dislocation of the human soul. In a community, laughter is validating; it’s a sign we all understand something is very wrong here, but it’s far enough away not to be hurting us at the moment. With laughter, we affirm our collective purpose and strength. In the matter of Notorious RBG or climate change or the heat death of the universe, we have room to seek that community with each other before the consequences hit. But this… I’m sorry, Dev. This is just too close.

A: It is oddly peaceful, though. I mean, the inevitability.

R: Yeah.

D: This can’t be what kills us! This is only… This is only… the government-sanctioned murder of over seventy human beings in need of housing assistance, at least one of whom was a child who likes trains…

[brief silence, quiet sniffling]

L: It’s all right, Dev. You did your best. We went out swinging.

A: If it’s any consolation, Ishtar’s probably not going to let this stand.

R: Yeah. Just, not much she can do with a pocket dimension.

D: What do you want to do? We’ve probably got hours…

A: Well, I have a few emails I’d like to write.

L: Yeah… I mean, it’s your prerogative, but I’m not gonna tell anyone I’m trapped in a pocket dimension and they can’t help us. Just, ya know, gonna try and keep it positive.

A: Yeah…

[typing sounds]

D: I… [weak laugh] I suppose I’d better let Abi know we won’t be in to record next week…

A: Oh, that’s thoughtful of you, Dev. Thanks.

[typing sounds]

A: Does anyone want to listen to some Mountain Goats?

R: We don’t have the rights.

A: Yeah, [laugh] but, we’re probably not going to get a chance to post this, so…?

[muffled ringing]

A: What’s that?

L: It’s my pocket…

D: Your pocket’s not ringing, it’s the cursed phone!

[beep]

L: Uh, hello?

[muffled, irritated phone voice]

L: Uh, no, they’re right here, though… Dev? It’s for you.

D: Hello?

[unintelligible, but very annoyed, phone voice, which continues intermittently throughout]

D: [sigh] No. No, Abi. I’m sorry. I promise, I did not make you watch the entire Bourne Identity TV series for a prank. No. No, we do not have covid. Or Vigo. No, um, I do understand you can’t do a podcast with one person, but, er… To be perfectly honest, we’re both about to die in a pocket dimension and then Ishtar and Gozer are probably going to have it out, so… Er, Gozer the Gozerian? Um…? No, xe can’t come to the phone right now… Because xe has taken the form of the Grenfell Tower Fire and… Um, hang on…

[beep]

Abigail Thorn (ABI): I SAID PUT ME ON FUCKING SPEAKER! AM I ON SPEAKER?

D: Yes.

A: Hi, Abi!

ABI: [cheerfully] Hi! [back to being annoyed] GOZER, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?

G: UH, BATTLING THE GODS OF THIS WORLD FOR SUPREMACY? WHO IS THIS, PLEASE?

ABI: MY NAME IS ABIGAIL THORN, I AM THE AVATAR OF ISHTAR WHO IS TALKING NOW, MY PRONOUNS ARE SHE AND HER AND I AM FUCKING ANNOYED!

A: What?

G: Oh? Abi? Hi! [clearing throat] OBVIOUSLY I WAS NOT GOING TO DESTROY YOU OR ANY PART OF KILL JAMES BOND, HA-HA. BIG FAN OF YOUR SUFFERING! SO, UH, IS THERE SOME OTHER PROBLEM?

ABI: YOU’VE GOT TWO-THIRDS OF KJB TRAPPED IN SUBSTANDARD PUBLIC HOUSING AND YOU’RE ABOUT TO SET THEM ON FIRE — THERE’S YOUR PROBLEM, YOU DAFT FUCKING ENBY!

G: WHAT? [slightly lower voice] WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE, AGAIN?

A [automatically]: My name is Alice Caldwell-Kelly, I am the person who is talking now, and my pronouns are she and her.

D: I, er… I’m Dev. Devon.

L: I’m Liam Anderson…

G: SHUT UP. NOBODY CARES.

A [faintly]: Yay, Liam.

G [sheepish]: TERRIBLY SORRY, THEY DIDN’T DO THEIR INTROS.

R: Fuck.

G: BUT NO HARM DONE!

A: I am traumatised and covered in horse viscera.

D: I’m questioning the meaning of my existence. Also, Abi never told us she was an avatar of Ishtar and… I think I’m a bit hurt by that?

A: Yeah. I mean, I assumed she was an avatar of something, but she might’ve specified…

G: ALL RIGHT, A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF HARM DONE, BUT NOTHING IRREPARABLE! DO I, ER, HAVE THE “ALL CLEAR” TO KILL THE OTHER TWO?

A & D: NO!

ABI: STOP TRYING TO END THE WORLD, YOU CUNT! I TOLD YOU, I AM STILL USING IT!

G: [sigh] HANG ON.

Part 11

#wtyp #well there's your problem #ghostbusters #long reads #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover fic #gozer the gozerian #alice caldwell-kelly #liam anderson #justin roczniak #devon #engineering disasters #podcast

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Text

y/n is smitten with jungkook and it’s really, truly driving her crazy

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; university!au!! hello newbie bff!kook!! woohoo this is part one of a brand new mini-series!! honk honk humour!! boo hoo angst!! jungkook and y/n are bestie goals!! y/n feeds jungkook at one point which is pretty cute too

➺ wordcount; 5.3k

➺ summary; y/n finally decides to tell jungkook about her feelings for him and she doesn’t know if she’s ever been this nervous about anything before.

➺ what to expect; “when you like someone... do you think that you should tell them that you like them?”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

“i have special feelings for you.”

your face screws up in disgust as soon as the sentence comes out of your mouth and you shudder before shaking your head

‘special feelings’?!

you’re definitely scratching that one off the list

special feelings

way to sound like a creep

“c’mon, y/n,” you grumble, pushing yourself up from the sink before reaching up to knock against your forehead, “think, think, think...”

you’ve been in the washroom for the last half an hour just talking to yourself in the mirror and it’s safe to say that it hasn’t been a very productive half an hour because you’ve basically been spitting the same sentence out in increasingly cringeworthy ways

“...i think i like you?”

see, now why did you word that one like a question?

do you think you like him or do you actually like him??

where’s the confidence??

where’s the oomph factor?!

“no, wait, i mean-” you wince and quickly shake your head, “what i meant to say was that i think that i know that i like y- no, no, listen to me, i actually like you-”

well, if there’s one thing that can be said for sure, it’s that this is going absolutely nowhere

the past two months of your life has been consumed with you debating with yourself in your head about whether or not you should tell jungkook that you like him or if you should just bottle it up and keep your feelings shoved deep, deep inside your soul for the rest of your life and even the entirety of your afterlife

it was approximately a week ago that you finally decided it would be best to just put your big girl pants on and tell jungkook about your feelings for him because you know yourself and you feel like you might really go crazy if you don’t do anything about it

of course, you wouldn’t have come to that decision if it wasn’t for something he’d said during a library study session

"should you tell someone that you like them?”

“-!” you immediately choke on your water and quickly twist the cap back on the bottle before patting your chest lightly and looking up towards jungkook, “what?”

“when you like someone... do you think that you should tell them that you like them?” he asks, continuing to type away at his laptop as if he didn’t just ask you what seems to be a pretty loaded question, “or should you just keep it to yourself? to not accidentally make things weird, you know?”

why would he suddenly bring something like this up?

“i, um...” you clear your throat before offering him a halfhearted shrug, “well, i- i mean, if you- i think that if you have serious feelings for a person- like, if you know that it isn’t just a silly little crush-” you pause for a second to collect your thoughts so you can string them into a coherent sentence before going on, “okay, let me put it this way: if you know that your feelings for this person are genuine and that you really do want to pursue a romantic relationship with them, then, yeah. yeah, i think you should tell the person that you like them. because if you don’t, you’ll live the rest of your life wondering what would’ve happened if you did tell them, you know? if you do tell them about your feelings, then you don’t have to wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of your life.”

“huh.” jungkook looks up at you from his laptop before giving you a nod and a hum, “i guess you’re right... yeah, that makes sense. but what would you do if they didn’t feel the same way?”

you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously at his question and the little voice in the back of your head warns you to stay cool and definitely don’t get your hopes up

he can’t possibly be talking about you and him, can he?

...but if he’s not talking about you and him, then why would he bring the topic up in the first place?

oh my god. does jungkook like me too?

“well, i-” you can’t hide the soft smile on your face from the thought of jungkook having feelings for you but you quickly remind yourself that he hasn’t said anything like that at all and has really just asked you a simple question, “i don’t think you have anything to worry about, kook. you’re, like- you know, you’re super nice and funny and- yeah, i- i think if you told someone that you liked them, there would be a 100% chance of them liking you back.”

“do you really think so?” jungkook’s gaze softens and you feel your heart skip a beat at the sight

oh, god

you are so whipped for him, aren’t you?

“of course! i know so. is there- is there a reason why you asked?” you ask quickly as you lean forward, wanting to take advantage of the conversation before he loses interest in the topic

“well, i just wanted your opinion on it, because i feel like you always have something logical to say.” jungkook smiles, gently nudging your leg with his foot underneath the table, “i trust you.”

i trust you.

“i... i like you... and...” you frown at the piece of paper in your hands before looking back up at yourself in the mirror

perhaps it would be better to not follow your script word for word

this message should come from your heart, right? it shouldn’t come from a crumpled up piece of notebook paper that’s been living at the bottom of your backpack for the past week

you nod to yourself as you fold the sheet of paper in half before tucking it into your back pocket

“okay, i have something that i’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes for a second to imagine his face in front of you before opening them again, “before you freak out, it’s really not that big of a deal. we are... we’ve been friends for- we are friends, and friends are honest with each other, so this is me being honest with you. i like you. i like you, as in, i have feelings for you. and to be completely honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, which, i know is a pretty long time to have kept it a secret, but- i’ve tried multiple times to force myself to not like you but at this point it’s become clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. i guess it doesn’t help that we basically spend every day together, right? anyways, if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely fine. i promise i won’t let it ruin our friendship because i really do cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want is to make things weird, so... you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings, you know? i just want you to be honest with me, too. ...yeah.” you finish your little monologue with a smile as you give yourself a quick pat on the back

okay, not half bad!

it’s short, it’s sweet, you get straight to the point, you have a safety net to fall back on-

you jolt in surprise at the sound of a splash and a whoosh of a toilet flushing from one of the stalls behind you and you press your lips together tightly and look down when someone steps out

wonderful

you just gave someone a free show!

she doesn’t say a word as she steps up to the sink next to you, her bracelets clinking together as she scrubs her hands under the running water

she twists the tap off with a creak before leaning down to look underneath the mirror for the paper tissue dispenser

she stands back up before pointing towards the one under your mirror, “could you pass me some paper tissues?”

“uh, yeah, for sure-” you quickly reach under and yank a couple of paper tissues out of the dispenser before handing them over to her with a sheepish smile, “by the way, i was just- i was just practicing a monologue, so...” you clear your throat quietly and she gives you a stiff smile and a nod before turning to head towards the door

you mouth a silent ‘oh my god’ and reach up to bite your fist as soon as she turns away, your entire face now red from getting caught basically confessing your feelings to yourself in a dimly-lit restroom like a total weirdo

“hey-” the stranger turns to look at you from the door, “good luck with your- um, your monologue.” she smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes, “i hope it works out for you.”

“oh!” you return a smile while reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “uh, thank you. so do i.”

the door shuts with a slow creak and you exhale slowly before turning to face yourself in the mirror again before chuckling lightly, “god, so do i.”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

before you freak out, it’s really not that big of a deal...

you adjust the strap of your backpack as you push the door open and step out of the bathroom, a blast of cool air from the library immediately making the hairs on your arms prickle to life

we’re friends, and friends are honest with each other, so this is me being honest with you...

you reach down to press your palm flat over your tummy when you feel it rumble

i like you, as in, i have feelings for you...

you and jungkook are supposed to meet for lunch today and that’s when you decided you were going to tell him, but now you’re starting to wonder if maybe you can push it to tomorrow or something because you’re starting to get really, really nervous

i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, which, i know is a pretty long time to have kept it a secret. i’ve tried multiple times to force myself to not like you but at this point it’s become clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon...

the smell of freshly-baked pizza suddenly tickles at your nose and you look up to see that muscle memory has already brought you to the building that you’re meeting jungkook at

if you don’t feel the same way, that’s completely fine. i promise i won’t let it ruin our friendship because i really do cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want is to make things weird...

“okay, y/n. you’ve got this.” you mutter, looking at the doors of the building as you straighten your back, “everything is going to be-”

“hey, there you are!”

you grunt in surprise when you’re suddenly being tackled from behind, strong arms wrapping themselves around you and lifting you up for a split second before you’re being set back down on the ground again

“jesus, kook-” you immediately spin around and grab onto jungkook’s forearms to keep yourself steady as you wait for your eyeballs to stop rolling around in your skull, “someone’s certainly in a good mood today!”

“i’ve been thinking about pizza ever since i woke up!” he chirps, turning you back around before pushing you towards the doors eagerly, “let’s go, let’s go, let’s go-”

“alright, alright-” you laugh lightly, smiling as jungkook brushes past you to hold the door open for you, “how did your midterm go?”

“actually, it went a lot better than i expected!” jungkook nods enthusiastically as the two of you join the queue of hungry students

he turns to glance at you for a second before raising his head slightly so he can take a look at the menu up front, “i think the mock quiz you made for me really helped.”

“hey, that’s good! that’s good.” you nod slowly, pausing for a second before clearing your throat, “hey, by the way- there was something that i wanted to talk to you about.”

“ooh, i actually have something that i want to talk to you about, too.” jungkook grins before leaning over to nudge your side with his elbow, “i think you’re going to like what i have to say.”

“i- i am?” you raise an eyebrow, “well, what do you want to talk ab-”

“yeah, four slices of pepperoni, please.”

“to go or for here?”

you don’t get a chance to say anything else because the two of you are already up at the front and you shut up before hurrying to grab your wallet

“for here, please. and... hold on, gimme a sec-” jungkook pulls his student card out of his wallet before handing it to the cashier, “and an order of cheesy garlic knots too. oh, and also, two little cup-thingys of garlic aioli. what do you want to drink?” he turns to look at you and you blink owlishly before realizing that he’s paying for all of the food

“oh, you don’t have to-” you raise your own student card, “i can pay for the knots-”

“relax, you can just get it next time.” jungkook snorts before nodding towards the drinks in the back, “what do you wanna drink?”

“oh, okay, i-” you narrow your eyes to look at the drinks before nodding, “can i get a lemon iced tea, please?”

“i’ll just get a coke.”

you stay quiet as jungkook pays for the meal, the cashier handing him the receipt a second later

“do you wanna find a table for us before it gets too crowded?” jungkook turns back to look at you before taking his bag off his shoulder, “here- put my bag on the seat so no one will take it.”

“’mkay, got it.”

it seems that lady luck is on your side today when you end up spotting two empty stools facing the windows and you hurry your way over before anyone else grabs the seats

you carefully weave your way around the tables, being careful not to knock into anyone’s chairs or the back of anyone’s head (it happened to you once and it was not a pleasant feeling.)

you grin in success as you set jungkook’s bag down on the first one before settling yourself down on the second one

everything is working out wonderfully today!

“oop-” you feel a little crunch in your back pocket when you sit down and you lift yourself up for a second to quickly reach behind and- “oh-” your eyes widen in panic when you realize that you just pulled out what’s basically your love letter to jungkook and you hurry to take your backpack off so you can quickly put it away

“y/n, the nice girl gave me a brownie on the house!”

you feel your anxiety skyrocket through the roof when you hear jungkook’s voice coming up behind you and all the alarms begin to blare at the sight of the note that’s still in your hand

“we can share it!” jungkook chirps, now standing right behind you with a tray full of food, “can you lift my bag for a second?”

“uh, yes! yes, i-” you grab jungkook’s bag off the chair with a grunt and plop it down on your lap next to your own backpack before turning to look at kook with a smile, “free brownie again? that was nice of her.” you blindly feel for an opening on your bag before shoving the note into it right as jungkook gets settled next to you

pheW

crisis averted

“i know, right? i think she might like me- or maybe she likes you, i don’t know-”

“i’m pretty sure you’re the one she’s batting her lashes at, kook,” you snort, turning to glance back towards the front counter to see one of the girls staring in your guys’ direction with a dreamy smile on her face, “i feel like she’d behead me if i touched your brownie.”

“it’s okay, we can still share it- oh my god, everything smells so good.” jungkook slides the box of garlic knots with a little cup of aioli sitting on top of it over to you, “let me get a couple of bites in before i start talking- you want a bite of pizza?”

“mm-mm, i’m fine with my garlic knots.” you smile, popping the flimsy paper box open and immediately being hit in the face with the rich scent of butter and garlic, “wanna try?” you ask, tearing a chunk off one of them before dipping it into the sauce

“mm, gimme.” jungkook leans over before opening his mouth eagerly and chomping at the air and you can’t help but giggle before feeding him the bite

a minute or so ticks by where the two of you sit in comfortable silence and you chew thoughtfully as you stare out the window

you feel good!

you feel good about this

you feel like all the lights are green and all you have to do is rev the engine and slam down on the gas

you know what to say, you know exactly how to say it, and you’ve planned out all possible routes of how this conversation with jungkook might go

a) the 'oh my god, this is really happening’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he tells you he likes you back = you’ll enjoy each other’s company for the rest of lunch and maybe he’ll hold your hand when he walks you to your next class afterwards

b) the 'you’re a really good friend, but no’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he tells you that he doesn’t feel the same way and that he just wants to be friends = you tell him that it’s completely fine and that you’ll get over it, you’ll enjoy each other’s company for the rest of lunch and afterwards he will definitely not hold your hand when he walks you to your next class which is fine because friends don’t hold hands with friends

c) the ‘yikes, this is awkward’ scenario: you tell him you like him, he reacts with discomfort and mild disgust = you’re slightly offended but you still tell him that you understand anD that you’re willing to give him as much time and space as he needs, and you’ll walk to class alone

...you really, really hope it’s not the last scenario that unfolds.

“-said yes!” jungkook slaps a hand down on the sticky metal counter before letting out a laugh, “can you believe it?”

oh god

you’ve been so in your head this whole time that you completely missed the exciting news that jungkook was waiting all day to tell you about

do you want to ask him to repeat himself or do you want to pretend like you were listening to him the whole time?

“that’s... i’m so... happy for you...?” you trail off sheepishly, jungkook turning to look at you before snorting

“you weren’t listening to me, were you?”

“i was!” you argue before gesturing out the window, “i totally was, i was just- i was just a little distracted because of the pigeons outside-”

“okay, well, let me just tell you again-” jungkook wipes his greasy fingers on a napkin before turning to face you slightly, his knees knocking against the side of your legs, “i finally did it. i finally grew a pair and i finally asked ji-eun out and she said YES!”

“hey, look at you go! that’s so-” you immediately clam up when his words finally settle into the deepest depths of your brain and you feel your heart plummet to your stomach

...

oh.

well, it looks like you weren’t as prepared as you thought you were

d) the ‘i just asked someone out so i clearly don’t have feelings for you’ scenario: you don’t get a chance to tell jungkook about your feelings for him, jungkook tells you that he likes someone else, and you...

what do you do?

“hey, what’s the matter?” jungkook frowns, tilting his head before reaching over to give your shoulder a shake, “you haven’t said anything in, like, a minute.”

you didn’t even know he was interested in someone else

the name ji-eun sounds a little familiar to you — now that you think about it, you’re fairly sure jungkook’s brought her up before (something something i sit next to this girl something something she’s nice and she let me borrow a pen something something along those lines)

she’s in his sociology class, you think?

“-great!” you blurt out, forcing a bright smile on your face as you look over at him, “sorry, i just- i was just processing your great news so i guess my brain just shut off for a second- that’s so... great, kook. super great.”

“isn’t it?!” jungkook clasps his hands together before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth, his eyes all wide and twinkly, “i mean, i was actually surprised she said yes, you know? i practiced what i was going to say to her all week- i stumbled over my words a couple of times but if anything i think she found it endearing...”

jungkook’s voice starts to fade out in the background as you turn to look back out the window

the chunk of bread in your mouth feels like it’s getting bigger and bigger as you continue to chew

suddenly you’ve lost your appetite

okay

well

this is... this is fine.

this is fine, right?

if anything, this is great news!

at least now you know that jungkook definitely doesn’t feel the same way, which is... fine!

it’s fine

and it’s a good thing that he started babbling first because you can’t even imagine what would’ve happened if you’d spewed your news out first

once again: crisis averted!

you let out a little sigh as your shoulders droop slightly

you had prepared yourself for what to do if jungkook didn’t feel the same way about you... so why does it feel like you’re flailing around in the middle of the ocean trying desperately to keep your head above the water?

“to be honest, i probably wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for what you said to me in the library last week,” jungkook hums, “you know, about how you should go for it otherwise you’ll be left wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your li-”

“yeah, yeah, i remember.” you interrupt him a little more crassly than intended before reminding yourself to loosen up, “i- yeah. i remember. i’m glad i could help.”

“oh, and you have to help me plan the date- everything has to be perfect.” jungkook reaches over to poke a finger into your arm, “you know i’m no good at all the mushy romance stuff, but you certainly are.”

“well, i-” you let out a nervous chuckle before shrugging, “i mean, everyone’s different, you know? i, um... i don’t know if it’s a good idea that i help you plan out the date and stuff because- you know, i... i don’t know anything about ji-eun! you know more than i do, so i probably won’t be able to-”

“i feel like dinner and a movie would be super boring.” jungkook sighs as he folds his grease-stained paper plate in half before pushing it away, “i mean, i definitely still wanna take her out for food and stuff, but-”

“i would argue that a dinner and a movie is a good first date,” you shake your head, “you know, you get to talk and get to know each other during the dinner, and then during the movie, you don’t have to talk to each other for like, an hour and forty minutes so you get a bit of break.”

“i mean, i guess, but... oh, shit, i’m sorry.” jungkook winces, suddenly perking up a little, “you said you wanted to talk to me about something, right? tell me about your thing first before we plan my date.”

“my thing?” your lashes flutter and you feel your ears starting to get hot at the reminder of what exactly your thing is, “oh, god, i- it’s nothing, now that i think about it. it was something... it was something silly, so- like, i don’t even remember what i wanted to- it’s stupid. it was stupid, it’s nothing.” you chuckle uncomfortably as you rub at the back of your neck, “let’s just keep- let’s just keep planning your date! i wanna keep planning your date.”

“okay, well- if you change your mind at any point, i’m all ears.”

“mhm.” you nod as you swirl the chunk of bread around in the aioli absentmindedly before letting go of it, “got it.”

“ooh, i’ve got it!” your eyes widen when jungkook suddenly reaches over and takes your hands in his, forcing your stool to swivel around so that you’re face-to-face with him, “imagine that i asked you out on a date.”

“u-us? on a date?” you swallow thickly, “that- that’s so dumb, kook-”

“no, listen, listen-” he chuckles, giving your hands a squeeze, “if i asked you out on a date, what would we do together?”

“well, i...” you look down at your hands in his (and for a second you can’t help but feel as though your hands just fit together perfectly) as you think of what to say, “we... we like pizza, right? i think, like- we could order a pizza and a box of garlic knots and maybe have some kind of a picnic on the rooftop of your apartment building. i mean- you’d probably have to decorate the rooftop first with a bunch of little twinkly lights and you’d have to lay out a blanket and some pillows to make it comfortable, otherwise we’d just be sitting in the dark on the cold, hard ground, but- yeah. i... i think that would be really nice. because it’s an intimate setting and it gives us the chance to talk in private, and we could literally stay up there all night if we wanted to and... you know, watch the sun rise and stuff. so... if we went out on a date, that’s what we would do together.”

the little voice in the back of your head suddenly reminds you (quite cruelly) that you, in fact, were not asked out by jungkook and you won’t be having a romantic rooftop picnic with him and you immediately pull your hands away from his before laughing nervously, “but you know, that’s just an idea, so you don’t have to take it.”

your face feels hot as you turn away from jungkook and you look down at your cold garlic knots before reaching over to shut the lid and push it away

“mm... no, i actually like that!” jungkook nods eagerly, “i like that a lot- i mean, a rooftop picnic is a little cheesy, but i think ji-eun will think it’s cute!”

“great!” you clear your throat, “as long as ji-eun thinks it’s cute, i think it’s great-”

“will you help me set it up?”

great.

he’s really rubbing salt into your wound, isn’t he?

“i... of course! i would love to.” you smile stiffly before lifting the sleeve of your hoodie to check the time on your watch, “so, i'm gonna head out, i think- i need to get to my next class early if i wanna get a good spot-”

“mm, okay-” jungkook slurps up the rest of his coke before shaking the empty paper cup, “i can walk you there! i’m done for the day so i think i’m just going to go hang out in the library- ooh, i can plan out my date while i wait for you-”

“oh, you don’t have to walk me to class, it’s fine.” you dismiss him with a flick of your wrist as you pull your backpack on, wanting desperately to just end the conversation so you can get the hell out of here, “i can just meet you in the library after i’m done.”

“are you sure?” he frowns, reaching over to pick up your box, “hey, you didn’t finish your garlic knots-”

“i know, i just- i guess i wasn’t super hungry.” you shrug, “you can take them if you want! you paid for them, so...”

“okay, in that case, i’m just gonna hang out here and finish up these knots and then i’ll go to the library.” jungkook plops back down on his seat before reaching over to punch your arm gently, “text me when you’re done, bud!”

»»————-　🖤　————-««

“-now, for this next portion, i just want you to take some notes down on your computers or your notebooks or whatever you have- think about any thematic concerns in the poem that stand out to you...”

you draw circles on the blank page of your notebook in disinterest as the sound of your professor’s voice drones on and on in the background and your mind immediately takes you back to what just went down with jungkook

your hand freezes on the page and you let out a quiet little huff

damnit!

you said that you weren’t going to be all mopey if things didn’t work out, but here you are, all sad and droopy and very much radiating woe-is-me energy

all you know now is that you’re going to take your feelings out on a big ol’ pint of ice cream tonight

by the way, you should probably throw out your little love letter because you certainly don’t need any embarrassing reminders of what you were going to say to jungkook

you don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if you told him you liked him before he told you that he’d just asked someone out

you set your pen down before leaning down to unzip your backpack, reaching in and blindly rummaging around for a crumpled up piece of paper

...

you frown, leaning down further to get your arm deeper into your bag

your fingers bump up against your planner, your wallet, your water bottle and your pencil case, but...

that’s odd

you roll your eyes in frustration as you pull your backpack up off the ground and plop it down on your lap with a fwump!, unzipping it all the way and opening it up so you can get a better look inside

you pull everything out and set your belongings down on the small table one by one, being careful not to make too much noise as to distract the professor

you’re more than confused as you stare into your empty bag after taking all the contents out of it

what?

where the hell is it?

you reach into the side pockets and you’re disappointed when you end up pulling out old tissues and empty gum wrappers

it’s not in the front pocket either — just your key, a pack of bubblegum, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer

your brows knit together in deep thought as you settle back against your seat, your eyes flickering to the side as you-

you immediately pale

oh my god.

you’re positive that your heart stops beating for three whole seconds the moment you realize where exactly the note is — because no, you idiot, you didn’t shove it into your own bag earlier-

the note is in jungkook’s bag.

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles/mini series like this one!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

957 notes · View notes

ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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