#like yeah ok Maybe he's rich enough to pay every single person himself but.... if that were the case then all concerts should be free

[meyhew]

. 

[millimononym]

The Attackers

here are Venus and Brambles, the attackers of my OC team! (i don’t have a name for the team yet. names are hard). Also if you remember the first oc post and remember the guys name and are wondering, yes, everyone in the team is named and has their looks based off plants. this drawing kinda looks weird cuz i drew the heads first like a dumbass

ANYWAY OC BACKSTORY/PERSONALITY TIME

so Venus is like...one of the only decent people in the entire team(don’t get used to it). She’s very energetic,bubbly and sweet. She also eats a lot. She grew up as the oldest sister in a poor household with a single mom and multiple siblings. As she’s an adult now(early 20′s) the responsibility of caring for her siblings falls on her as her mom is in the hospital. She uses the money she earns as a footballer to pay for her mom’s hospital bills and care for her siblings. She’s incredibly stressed (as you can see from her antennae,they droop when someone is feeling negative emotions) but tries to seem happy in front of everyone because she believes showing negative emotions will rub off on people and she doesn’t want that. She puts other people’s needs before her own because she likes seeing people happy. She doesn’t like conflict but CAN and WILL beat someone (cough cough BRAMBLES cough) up if they’re hurting kids. Dated Brambles at one point...i don’t know how that happened but i’m glad that’s over with

Brambles. This motherfucker. Actual alien equivalent of Ricegum. Going from talking about Venus to talking abt him is giving me whiplash. Absolute ASSHOLE. 0 redeeming qualities. anyway i should probably talk abt him now. He’s the brother of the teams’ backup player and Sugarcane’s cousin. He’s the oldest out of 4 siblings and is an absolutely horrible brother if you were wondering. Grew up in a rich household and is a spoiled brat. No wonder his father left (oh yeah btw his dad left lol). Regularly makes fun of the backup player(his youngest brother, who is SIXTEEN BY THE WAY) for having mental problems and attachment issues (HMMM I WONDER WHAT COULD’VE CAUSED THOSE. probably not LIVING IN A LOVELESS HOUSEHOLD WITH AN ASSWIPE OF A BROTHER). He’s even worse later but i’m not gonna spoil it. How did he manage to date someone as sweet as Venus. I have no clue. I don’t wanna talk about him anymore, his personality is draining to the brain. If he was a real person i’d spit on him

[[EDIT/UPDATE 19.8.2022: ok so i’m not really good at making my stories(i mostly make characters and specific scenes) but Brambles was a pretty barebones guy, even for me. Wasn’t much to him besides being his brothers abuser and being a disappointment to his family. So i wanted to flesh out his character a little more i guess (that’s a lie it came to me completely randomly while listening to music lol.(the music was Splitter Girl by weevildoing and Kareshi No Jude by syudou if u were wondering)).

This might change but as of now some things are added: Brambles was a child who took his familys’ neglect as any rational child would: By developing extremely violent tendencies to harm himself, and every other creature unlucky enough to be near him! ...yay. Frequent victims include animals(who he definitely murdered, by the way) and his youngest brother(hope i introduce him soon so i can stop calling him just that cuz its weird). His other 2 siblings were too slippery for it i guess. Plus theres 2 of them so thats twice as many hands to throw at his face, which they did. TIMEJUMP TO THE PRESENT, i actually have a reason for Brambles and Venus breaking up besides him being an asshole: Cheating. Motherfucker cheated on her with a defender in the team(who i ALSO havent introduced HNNNGHHH) and also cheated on him with Venus because NEITHER OF THEM actually KNEW about the other dating their boyfriend, so technically they were both cheated on. It didnt go to well for our boy here,as you can imagine. Probably gonna need to add some scars to his design now lol(maybe the back? cuz im lazy and dont wanna change anything). So yea those are the changes for now byee]]

WELL OKAY that’s them alright. As one last thing u may have noticed: you can see in the picture that they’re wearing matching collars. That’s actually part of the teams uniform (which i forgot to include in Sugarcane’s reference pic like a dumbass). Each position has a different color and the attackers one is red! A shame Venus has to share the position with Brambles but what can you do.

[pridewhatpride]

ok so I read your view on GX rivalshipping and how things would get messy when johan shows up because I was curious about another GX rivalshippers opinion, and holy you and I have the EXACT same thoughts.

Ive went on and on about how manjoume as a rival (and as someone who could have had the ability to support judai) was tossed aside as soon as johan shows up + turned into the comedic relief chara and nobody ever really knows what the hell im talking about LOL. a big thing for me is just how DIFFERENT that would be for manjoume as well? in the seasons before johan shows up judai is so clingy towards him, always busting into his room and being in his personal space...

then mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon and suddenly judai is like. smitten. which like youve pointed- out who could blame judai? johan is hard to hate and hes kind of perfect in every way. I always imagine what that would do to manjoumes self esteem in particular, because as we all know it IS a bit fragile at times, especially when it comes to being the best he can be.

I think having johan around would make him feel absolutely insignificant not only as someone who LIKES judai, but even just as judais friend. is he really so horrible at being a support that judai needs a stranger to lean on? even though he never asked for judais help much, is he really such a burden when he needs to be saved? why is judai acting like hes never been able to connect with manjoume, who can also see duel spirits, before? whoever said opposites attract obviously havent seen judai and johan! thoughts like that.

I could go on and on but I dont want you to have to read my 2746373 word long ask about them. id love to hear any thought or analysis you have on GX rivalshipping because its my favourite and the shippers are so rare, so I encourage you to post them whenever you feel like it!

Dear anon.

You can't ever know just how happy receiving this in my inbox made me. I can't fully express how grateful I am at the simple fact that you read my long rambles and reached out to me. I respect your anonimity if you want to keep it, but honestly, DM me whenever, if you want to. I think I'd like to talk to you if you're comfortable with it? I really do want to read your "2746373 word" essay on them. For the rest of my life.

I might get a little personal in terms of my view on this, so just... be aware.

The thing is that the way Manjoume is cast aside is just... a big fear of mine. "Sure, we might be friends now, but I'm not all that good and you know it. You won't mean any harm by it, but you'll find someone you like better and I'll be alone again." That kind of line of thought is probably something that goes through Manjoume's mind? He doesn't really... have friends outside of Judai. Maybe Fubuki. And Daichi? Except he disappears into nothingness very quickly. But that's it. And he certainly had none before that: just lackeys who pretended to like him because he was rich and perceived as promising. He lost that and suddenly found himself isolated.

It's nice to think that he bonded with the other members of the gang, but... he didn't. Shou certainly never really stops disliking/making fun of him. You could say it's meant as like... friendly teasing. But it doesn't read that way because there is nothing to indicate actual affection. Kenzan, Aster and the transfer students just... barely interact with him? Like have they actually ever spoken to eachother? I doubt it. Ryo is just the admirable upperclassman. Again, barely any interaction. Asuka is... a mess I don't want to get into, but again, she would probably file a restraining order if she could.

So yeah. Manjoume has one friend and the taller and cooler guy just kind of takes that away. Of course Johan is not aware of this! He wouldn't have been able to do much to change it, either way. It was Judai's own choice and that's what hurts the most, to me.

If shifting the focus and making minor changes to canon is something you like to do, here's a thing I think about a lot. "Teardrop", the Season 3 opening, except it's what Manjoume feels when seeing Judai's suffering and desperation. You know.

As you hang your head and smile, a single tear lands on your cheeks

You pretend to be strong, but underneath You’re hiding sighs; your smile is cloudy It sticks into me Like shattered glass

It’s OK to talk about the pain in your heart

Your smile Has always saved me You can cry now I’ll stay here with you

I can't bring myself to blame Judai or Johan for it, but I think Manjoume- if he'd been written like an actual character past a certain point- would have been quite devastated by this.

As you said, it's not just being abandoned, it's also being indirectly told that he was never truly someone worthwhile, that he is little more than extra weight. What of his supposed status of equal rival and all that? Nothing. Judai is just... on a different level than him. So Manjoume is simply left to stagger behind in a desperate attempt to chase after greatness. He wasn't good enough for his brothers and Judai stood up for him. But in the end he wasn't good enough for Judai either.

I like to think that Manjoume made an effort to get along with the others. He just didn't quite know how and couldn't just... switch off his more prideful persona. And he ended up paying quite the steep price.

I know I'm extra melodramatic when it comes to my favourites, but it's something that bugs me. I understand why the manga decided to approach Manjoume's character in a completely different way and it's the reason why I like to read Manjoume's personality as a mix of manga and anime canon. I really have to mention this- how can one even pretend that the writers gave a shit about Manjoume when they joked about how stinky he was in a scene that could have been... emotional in some way. Judai frees Manjoume from the influence of the Society of Light by reminding him who he really is (I don't want to talk about Kenzan being too strong to be manipulated because that is fucking stupid and besically the equivalent of saying "ahah, the light got you because you're not strong willed enough @ Asuka @ Manjoume. Get rekt"). And like... great! They are actually showing off how much they care for eachother as friends despite the rivalry! But no. Judai ends up basically saying: "You smell and your coat has stains on it!" and Manjoume's just: "Oh yeah, I'm goth I hate wearing white, nvm."

... I swear someone on the writing team looked at Manjoume and went: "Let's bully him!" Ugh ;; Can you tell I'm hyper biased towards Manjoume yet?

This was hilarious to read, by the way: "mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon"

But yes, this mess is now officially over. I will be spouting gx rivalshipping nonsense left and right because we were robbed of their dynamic and I'll never get over that. Also I really want to draw them, so that helps.

Ending this post by saying that this ask made me feel like I didn't waste time writing all that, that someone can get something out of it. I'm really glad.

[chanswavyhair]

filter | hwang hyunjin

warning: some cursing, fem!reader, too much fluff akshka.

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic and not a timestamp so,,, i hope it’s not very bad. this was kinda inspired by bts jimin’s filter but jagsjh,, anyways hope you enjoy it!!

you were in trouble

like,,, you were usually in trouble but THIS ONE WAS BIG

so you basically agreed with your parents that you would attend some ball ???

and with your boyfriend as your plus one ?????

well to start off you didn’t have a boyfriend and you didn’t even know why did you just say that HSJAKAH

you could do many things, but backing off and hurting your pride WAS NOT ON YOUR LIST

so now you had to find a boyfriend in like a month and half

i mean... you could ask jisung or felix, but you knew how uncomfortable they felt with your richies

also they didn’t give off the rich, classy and charming boyfriend look

well,, your friends were really handsome but not the type of handsome high society liked

but anyways that’s a problem for the future Y/N because we ain’t getting distracted at chemistry !! your grades were NOT falling

yeah you were living the rich and perfect y/n life

anyways in fact you were pretty annoying HSJSJD

you got very !! stressed !! when things were out of your control

there were only a few <lovely3 people who truly knew you and stood you, and they were jilix and your sis ryujin

(who invited her bestie daehwi, but he was rich too so he had no prob)

like,,, you usually hung out with your sis’ friends, but you weren’t THAT close

and for jisung and felix’s friends,,,,, it was weird when they weren’t all together

and that’s how jisung had the dumbest idea ever, and he’s had A LOT

like that one time he convinced you to let him dye your hair (you ended up looking like a light bulb)

or when you shaved his legs (WORST EXPERIENCE EVER YOU ALMOST GO DEAF but it was kinda fun)

anyways he just let out “why don’t you tell hyunjin? you know he does this weird thing of getting paid for acting as a boyfriend”

“what the FUCK JISUNG i am NOT paying hyunjin to act as my BOYFRIEND”

and,,, guess who heard you freaking out

nope not hyunjin but your sis ryujin

and her friend yeji

who hapepened to be hyunjin’s cousin

so yeah she told him and he went  ($ ‿ $✧)

now he’s been “AnAlyZInG” you for some days

and you were too busy thinking about your problem to notice it

so he decided to make a move, as you didn’t

“hey Y/N... somebody told me about your problem”

huh?

HUH??

“uh, what do you mean?”

“i know you need someone to be your supposed boyfriend in some ball”

lol it actually sounded really lame

THAT’S WHY YOU ONLY TRUSTED T H R E E PEOPLE

“wait— what do you mean???”

“well, i could help you and act as your boyfriend. i’m feeling generous, so i will lower the usual tax. which version do you want? cute? prince char—”

the fuck no, you weren’t that PATHETIC

“i’m sorry, but i don’t want your help. thank you anyways”

,,,,,,in that moment it turned to something personal to hyunjin

who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend???? at least if it’s just for a night????

and that’s how he started to be such a gentleman to you, to smile at you everytime you locked eyes, to initiate skinship

you knew he had ulterior moves, so you were irritated by him

but he was actually way more charming that you thought,,,,,,

like

HE WAITED FOR YOU AT YOUR LOCKER EVERY MORNING JUST TO GREET YOU

“’morning Y/N, looking fine today. how are you feeling? good?”

you were literally on a big ass sweater, but the bags in your eyes were even bigger

“hyunjin it’s too early and i’ve barely slept so please leave me alone—”

“oh, that’s no good,, should i call you tonight to make sure you fall asleep?. anyways, i’ll see you in english class. don’t forget we had homework!”

and,,, he always shared his food whenever you forgot yours,,,,,

he proved himself to be more than a cute face

he tried to help you whenever he noticed you were struggling to understand anything

and one out of five words he said were just him flirting

you eventually started not minding him being around you everyday

and then soome time after that,,, your heart ??? suddenly started to do weird things ??? when he was close to you ???

you MAYHAPS had a little crush on him

BUT IT WAS NOTHING SERIOUS HE WAS JUST TOO CUTE WHENEVER HIS DIMPLES SHOWED

or when HIS EYES WENT,,, (◠‿◠✿)

but you did NOT like him, right?

RIGHT???

he just treated you so well ಥ⌣ಥ

well lucky for you because this boy was also confused as fuck

since when have you been covering you beautiful smile when you laughed???

he honestly just wanted to put your hands down and tickle attack you

but that was just because he was getting into his role right??

RIGHT?????

anyways things got even worse for your weak heart when you saw him at you favorite cafe, studying, looking just TOO GOOD TO BE REAL

and then,,,, you two started to go studying there every evening

at some point he even started ordering your usual comand before you came

and,,, when you found yourself getting distracted by hyunjin’s cute mole under his eye by the 4th time you started to think that...

you maybe...... liked him ????

like... YOU liked HIM ??????

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N

“i have finished all my assignments. how about you?”

“i- i still have lots to do. you should go first or it will get late— ”

“and that’s why i’m staying. you shouldn’t go home alone it’s dark, i’ll walk you, if you don’t mind. and don’t worry, i don’t have anything to do now”

.......

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

you liked him A LOT

but you knew he was just being this nice so he could prove that you should hire him

which was not happening, as if wasn’t enough to fall for this boy :(

the thing is

he had forgotten about that weeks ago when his feelings grew bigger

he didn’t understand what he felt, but he knew he felt insanely good when you were around him

like whenever he told you he felt he was going to fail an exam you looked at him in some kind of way

he didn’t understand how or why, but he felt like whatever was worrying him didn’t matter anymore

and everything he wanted to talk, see, or think of was you

anyways he started to walk you home whenever he got the chance

this one day,,, you weren’t going to the cafe because you had things to do at home

but he insisted to walk you

so he was waiting for you in the hall

then he saw you at your locker talking with some random boy who was quite close to you

his heart went :(

but then he realized you were not exactly happy ??

“look, yeonsung, i already told you that i won’t tutor you. please leave me alone”

“no, Y/N you don’t understand, you HAVE to. we are meant to be, and if you won’t accept my dates at least help me with school stuff. it’s not that hard.” he grabbed your arm.

“yeonsung, no. let me go” you tried to pull, but he wouldn’t release you.

enough bullshit

“hey, i think you’ve heard her. she doesn’t want anything to do with you, so you’d better stop bothering Y/N. i’m not as polite as her”

“who the fuck are you? oh, little Y/N you’ve got some dickhead as your boyfriend? i’m much better than that. if only you fucking let me-”

ok so hyunjin’s blood has been burning for some time now but when he PUT HIS HANDS ON YOUR WAIST-

wait

did he

(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)(・о・)

DID HYUNJIN JUST CRASHED HIM INTO THE LOCKERS

“listen here, you asshole. if you dare to touch a single strand of her again i’ll fucking show you myself how to keep your hands down. understood?”

“un- understood”

“you’d better have” he pressed him a bit more before he let him fall on his feet

“let’s go away” hyunjin grabbed your hand

Y/N.exe has stopped working

hyunjin..... threatened this guy..... because he was harassing you

which was kinda hot btw ????

Y/N FOCUS

“hyunjin you didn’t have to-”

“don’t tell i didn’t have to because i made my best effort not to break his fucking nose.”

(๑ ● o ● ๑)

wow

he was really mad

“hyunjin-”

“Y/N, i know you are probably angry at me and that you want me to mind my own business, but i swear i-”

“HYUNJIN”

Y/N since WHEN did you have the GUTS to cup his face ?????

he went silent

“hey, calm down, ok? i’m not mad at you, this guy has been asking me weird things for some time now so i guess you just helped me to end it. i’m fine, yeah? calm down.”

you realized you were still holding his face so you were about to take them off but

HHHHhhhHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhHHHHHhhhh

HWANG HYUNJIN

WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU DUMMY

he put his hand ON your hands

why was he POUTING

“why didn’t you tell me? or anyone? he could have done anything worse if i hadn’t been there and Y/N, i honestly don- i don’t know what would i do if someone hurt you”

WHY WERE HIS EYES LOOKING AT YOU THAT WAY

(◕︵◕) INTENSIFIES

YOUR HEART WENT HHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhHHHhhhhhhhH

 AND YOUR FACE WAS GOING TO COMBUST AT ANY MOMENT

“it- it’s okay. let’s just forget it. come on, i have to go home”

“wait let me- please, let me hold you for a minute”

he DEADASS HUGGED YOU

AND

BURIED

HIS

FACE

IN

YOUR

HAIR ???????

HWANG HYUNJIN YOU ARE FUCKING RUINING THIS POOR GIRL’S HEART

“you smell really good. i wish i could stay like this for a bit longer... but it’s okay. anyways, let’s go”

you can imagine how HARD ryujin laughed at you when you told her you thought you had forgotten how to breathe

“Y/N YOU MORON, YOU DIDN’T JUST STAYED THERE STILL, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T”

“i HATE U STOP LAUGHING AT ME—”

“OR ELSE WHAT YOU’LL TELL HYUNJIN TO BREAK MY NOSE?”

yeah she was crying out of laughter

but anyways you two stopped shouting when your mother entered the room

“kids, have you already invited someone to the ball? it’s just week and half apart”

O SHIT

THE BALL

so now you were disturbing felix and jisung again with it

“Y/N just ASK HYUNJIN”

“ i CAN’T BECAUSE I ALREADY TOLD HIM THAT I WOULDN’T PAY HIM”

“Y/N,,,,,,,, has it ever crossed your mind that you two act just like a couple?”

(?・・)

“felix what do you mean he doesn’t like me and-”

“hi guys! hi Y/N.” he smiled at you with his whole heart and patted your hair “can you go today to the cafe? i don’t have much to study today, but we can go if you want to. i mean,, if you don’t want to it’s fine, i’ll just walk you home from here, if that’s cool with you.”

felix gave you that look

like the one he gave you when he was right

which was a bit usual because socializing wasn’t your best trait

but hyunjin didn’t like you, did he????

he was... he was just acting

as much as it hurt you, that was the truth

and in order to protect yourself... you should stop it

u MASOCHIST <(｀^´)>

“i think i’ll just go alone. don’t wait for me, it’s fine.”

you lost your appetite with just saying that

and hyunjin was like ????

you could see your two other boys-

Y/N! hyunjin is not your boy so stop it

anyways, jisung and felix were really confused too

well it was actually jisung because felix was more like DONE with your bullshit

you just went back to your classes and then, you went home

has routine been always this boring?

you couldn’t help but smile when you saw that hyunjin sent you a message asking about what where you doing tomorrow

but then you remembered you couldn’t let this hurt you anymore

so you said you were really busy at home and turned your phone off

“Y/N are you, okay?” ryujin said

“yeah, i am. why wouldn’t i be?”

“you don’t have to lie to me, sis. majorly because you can’t. talk to me, Y/N, tell me what’s wrong” she laughed softly

“i am... i am cutting off any relation with hyunjin.”

“what? why? you guys seemed to be getting along really well. i thought you liked him...”

“that’s why, ryu. i like him way too much. before he started talking to me, he told me to hire him to act as my boyfriend in the ball. he’s been trying to prove it, and i don’t want to fall deeper. i don’t know why did i let myself trust him, when i knew this from the first moment. i just don’t know why.

:(((( you started crying, and ryujin hugged you

“i don’t... i don’t think hyunjin is such a bad person to go this far with that thing of wanting you to hire him... but if you think that’s the best, then i’ll support your decision. we can sit in another table tomorrow. you know, just the girls, you and me. okay?”

you nodded into her embrace, trying to stop sobbing.

“okay”

so you started to avoid him as much as you could

and it was eventually making him crazy

well,,, he had been coping with whOle week without you

until he just exploded

“guys, i don’t understand. everything was going really good, and then she started to treat me as cold as fuck. and i don’t get what did i do to deserve this.” he complained to his boys

he was really disappointed

because he knew he felt different to what he had ever felt before with you

he thought he was learning to fall in love, to stop worrying just about him and his friends

“am i not enough? have i bored her? or have i pressured her? i’m going crazy because i don’t even know why do i feel like this”

(ಥ⌣ಥ)

“hyunjin you like her is pretty easy actually”

did minho just

DID LEE FUCKING MINHO JUST

“what????? i’d never had something like that for anyone. it’s true things are different with her but—”

“when was the last time you did that fake dating thing?” chan asked

“well... like a month? i was busy”

“busy with what you genius”

seungmin don’t cross the line

“i... i was spending time with Y/N”

was this boy the same hwang hyunjin from a month before???

“omfg guys i think i like her but like a lot”

“dumbass that’s exactly what we are saying”

poor jeongin got slightly hit buy the so called dumbass :(

“but this doesn’t have anything to do with why she’s been dodging me like bullets??”

they all looked to felix and jisung, expecting they would know anything

“to be honest... i‘m not sure. she hasn’t told us anything” jisung said.

“well, the last time we talked about you we told her to ask you to go with her to her parents’ ball, and then i told her that you two already looked like a couple” felix said

then felix went

（・□・；）

“oh... so she doesn’t like me...”

hyunjin felt like the whole world was going down

there was this thing burning on his chest, a thing that he thought he could only feel for his friends or family

but then, you showed him he was wrong, again

“wait- i think i’ve connected the two dots— ” jisung said, but lix interrumped him

“no, you didn’t connect shit. i get it now. hyunjin, she thinks that you’ve been acting all the time to prove you should go with her to the ball. that’s why she’s avoiding you, because she thinks you just tried to play her” felix said

hyunjin’s heart broke a bit more when he processed felix’s words

(╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥) (╥_╥)

he... he hurt you

and really bad

“oh god, i’m so fucking stupid. what do i do know? she hates me!”

“ugh, go get your girl you dumbass!” changbin said

hyunjin suddenly started working again, and rushed off while calling someone.

so yeah back with u lil creature

you were doing homework, but you couldn’t focus

so you went to the kitchen to grab some snacks

and then your phone ringed

“ryujin?” you answered

“yeah. i’m at daehwi’s and i forgot to take a jacket. i will be passing be there in his car in like... 15 minutes. could you give me the versace one?”

“the colorful one or the leather one? ” you asked with your mouth full of a chocolate cookie

ryujin felt relief

“the leather one”

“okay. but weren’t you studying in the library for a physics exam?”

o shit

“i just went to his house! to study together! anyways! see you later! sis!”

????? weird

anyways you finished your math homework, and when you realized, you just got a message from her saying she was outside

so you got her jacket and opened the door in order to look for daehwi’s car

oh hyunjin’s there

cool

WAIT WHAT

you slammed the door in his face

then you realized THAT WAS WAY WORSE

“OMG I’M SORRY”

“can you open please?” he said from outside

you really missed his deep and soothing voice

“i- well- yes”

you opened the door, not being able to look directly at him

“can we talk? just give me five minutes, and if you still hate me after that i’ll just stop bothering you”

“i don’t hate you, and you- you aren’t bothering me”

“well... this past days it didn’t look like that. more like, exactly the opposite”

you went silent because you had literally no excuse

“are you mad?” he said

“why would i?”

“i don’t know either, that’s why i’m asking. i mean, it’s not like you’ve been avoiding me for days, not answering a single message or call. that’s all”

touché

“are you mad?”

you knew he should be, you deeply hoped he wouldn’t

“Y/N, i know you thought i was playing with you”

“wait- you weren’t?”

“oh god. i really told you i didn’t know what would i do if anyone hurt you, so why would i?”

“i thought... you were trying to prove i should have payed you to go to the ball...” you quietly said

but you looked at him when you heard him sobbing softly

“Y/N, you are the first person i’ve ever fallen for. i’ve been with plenty of people, and no one had ever make me fall like this. i don’t know why am i even crying in front of you, all i know is that i really, really like you”

your eyes were wider than the pacific ocean

HWANG HYUNJIN

HWANG HYUNJIN LIKED YOU BACK??????

LIKE,,,,, FORREAL?????

“i know you probably still hate me but please... if you at least gave me a chance for still being friends...”

“hyunjin”

GO AHEAD GURL

“what?” he stopped sobbing

“hyunjin, i like you too”

you didn’t even know what was happening, but you knew your mouth kept talking

“wait, you do???”

“hyunjin, i- i was avoiding you because i didn’t want to fall harder”

you were still malfunctioning

then you saw him getting closer to you

“can i,, like,,, kiss you?”

WHAT THE FUCK Y/N YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT

but his lips looked so soft HHHHHHhHhhhhhhHHhHHHHHhhhHH

he didn’t answer you

well at least not verbally

boi just WENT FOR IT

you thought you wouldn’t mind if you died there

his lips were even softer than they looked

was that like paradise felt?

but then,,,

“WELL GUYS I GUESS YOU TWO MADE UP HAHA COOL”

you two separated immediatly

“RYUJIN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU”

you, alias, tomato 1 said

“well i guess you two have to look for some clothes for the ball because there are only three days left, so go make out in another place but not in the porch. i don’t want to see hyunjin eating your face when i get home”

hyunjin, alias, tomato 2 intensified

“just,,, leave okay?”

you two lovebirds went for a walk, without a specific direction

you couldn’t be any more embarrassed

“can i call you my girlfriend?” he said

“i- yes”

THEN HE HELD YOUR HAND (ㄒoㄒ)

can you two get any cuter omg

“let’s go to the mall to look for some fancy clothes for my cute girlfriend and me and then make out when we get back”

“ ?????? HYUNJIN HHHHHHHHH STOP”

“n e v e r”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Spin Again if Not in the Lead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: M (non-explicit sexual content) Word count: 3163 @spideychelleweek​

Spideychelle Week Day 1: Road Trip

Summary: According to the game's original slogan, “You will learn about life when you play The Game of Life.”

According to MJ, you'll learn about capitalism, aardvark care, and how to go on the road trip of a lifetime without leaving your boyfriend's apartment.

“One, two, three, four,” MJ counts out defiantly, her plastic car clicking more with every space she taps it against before coming to rest beside the chapel. She glares at Peter and Ned expectantly. They must hate playing board games with her, she assumes―Life in particular―but they keep inviting her, and she keeps saying yes.

“Since you landed there anyway…” Ned begins to point out.

“I stopped because that’s how many moves the spinner gave me, not because I’m obeying that stop sign.”

“All you have to do is add another little plastic thingy to your car!”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“You had to stop,” Ned argues while Peter remains anxiously silent.

“The fact that the game makes you stop your life for marriage only demonstrates the inherent evil of the institution. Look how little time I got to be in college,” MJ says, gesturing to the short opening stretch of the board. “How about I just go back to the start and get another degree instead?”

“You’re supposed to get married here. It’s one of the milestones in the game. Job, marriage, house,” Ned lists. “That’s Life.”

His last remark was a little on the nose, MJ thinks, but it still makes her mad.

“I am not picking a spouse out of that plastic baggie. What does the spouse even contribute in this game? They don’t chip in on the house or make auto insurance payments. They don’t even have a job!”

“Children―”

“Don’t need a spouse for that,” she counters.

“―and companionship.”

“If the game was about companionship, you’d be paired up with another player, not a tiny peg-shaped piece of plastic.”

“It’s pretend,” Ned insists. “If I pull Athlete for the career card, I’m not going to make a big deal about being too short to be a professional basketball player.”

MJ has a retort ready for that too, except Peter finally decides to intervene. It’s not with words, not at first, but with the vibrating whirl of the spinner as he takes his turn. He stops his car next to hers, though his spin allows him to move five more spaces. God. She rolls her eyes, assuming he’s braking for marriage. Though they’re good friends, pretty much best friends anymore, she sometimes feels like Peter doesn’t hear a single word she says.

(Fine, they’re dating, but it’s early days. She doesn’t want one game of Life to send it all tumbling down.)

“Get in,” he says and she glances sideways at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Take your person out of your car and put her in mine.”

“You’re solving this by making me get married to you?” She’s only blushing because she’s angry. These infuriating nerds. “That takes away the only control I have in this game―getting to drive my own car.”

“You can drive,” Peter offers, moving his blue peg-man to the passenger’s seat. “I don’t care.”

When he looks from his car to her face, she has her narrowed eyes ready for him.

“What are you doing, Parker?”

“Getting you out of here. Let’s say your peg is a runaway bride who’s changed her mind about the wedding and mine is a friend who stops to pick her up because the chapel’s on his way.”

Ok, she might be smiling a little.

“Hurry up,” he urges, “I still have five spaces to go before Ned can spin.”

“What if your peg-man is a kidnapper?”

“You think he has the kind of car a kidnapper would want? It’s bright yellow. Pretty conspicuous. Anyway, he’s not a kidnapper, he’s your friend from college. You’ve kept in touch and frequently debate the merits of going back to get a second degree.”

This gets a full-on snort of laughter out of her.

“Also,” Ned offers, “he probably understands enough about your character to realize you would never be happy getting married so young, but also knows how independent you are and that you had to make that decision for yourself without his input.”

“That’s a lot of backstory for Life,” she comments, looking from Ned to Peter.

“Yeah, well, right now our rich imaginations are depriving you of what I’m sure would’ve been a lovely wedding… I mean…” Ned corrects when MJ notices his best friend giving him a look. “…are giving you an excuse to break the established rules of the game.”

“Companionship?” Peter offers with a smile. “And maybe the board isn’t even our plastic people’s whole life―” Ned is ready to ram the instruction sheet into their faces at this, she can tell. “―maybe it’s just a road trip.”

“I could do a road trip,” MJ says, fitting her peg-person into the driver’s seat of Peter’s yellow car.

“Awesome. I warmed up the seat for you.”

“Gross. Don’t make me drive away while you’re in the bathroom at the next truck stop.”

“There are no truck stops in this game!” Ned protests. “There aren’t even trucks!”

“I think I hear your plastic wife reminding you to take your blood pressure medication,” she informs him flatly.

Peter advances their car the remaining spaces and their road trip is officially underway. They keep the order of their turns the same, which should mean that Peter and MJ’s car finishes the game while Ned’s only halfway through, except arguments crop up and their friend takes his turn in the meantime. They argue over picking a house (Peter favours the white picket fence while she insists, with their pooled salaries, that they should go for the biggest, most extravagant house, because why not?), which route to take at forks, and if they should buy a stock card. The baby spaces are the trickiest. Her face feels hot again and neither she nor her road trip buddy are making much effort to meet each other’s eye.

“Is this still a road trip?” Ned checks in, comfortably ahead of them with his plastic wife, two kids, and a dog. “You guys own a house together now.”

MJ finally darts a look at Peter.

“We’ll just say it’s a pet instead of a baby.”

Of course, then they argue about what kind of pet they adopted. She feels foolish and uncreative for suggesting a budgie when, with the height of the ceilings in their mansion, Peter says they could very reasonably keep a giraffe. Their compromise is, somehow, an aardvark. The aardvark gets make-believe packed into a make-believe aardvark carrier and they continue the road trip. The tranquility of their household only lasts until the next baby space. They pick up another pet. They hit another baby space. It’s a fucking minefield, MJ thinks, and she wants to call up the inventor of Life and have a serious talk with him (clearly a man) about his agenda. There should be more natural disasters (she and Peter have home and automobile insurance, so they’re not worried) and fewer trips to the maternity ward.

By the fourth baby space, she’s annoyed and having less fun debating the pet they should adopt in place of human offspring.

“This might be crazy,” Ned says sarcastically, “but you guys could just have a baby together this time.”

Peter makes a weird noise and MJ’s too flustered to look at him. Her companion recovers himself.

“We can’t take a newborn baby on a road trip,” he asserts. “Somebody would have to stay home with them.”

“I’m not staying home,” she says quickly.

All power to stay-at-home moms, but she doesn’t think she’d want to be one. Not that reality matters, obviously, because this is just a dumb board game pushing conformity.

“You idiots brought an aardvark!” Ned blurts. “I’m pretty sure you can handle a baby!”

“Fine,” MJ snaps. She can’t help it. Something about her friend’s words made it seem like a challenge. “Parker, you’re on baby duty.”

“What? I don’t know how to take care of a baby.”

She shrugs.

“Figure it out. I’m driving.”

“Then I’ll drive for a while and you can be on baby duty,” he counters.

“No way! Letting me drive was part of the deal!”

“The deal has evolved! We’re parents now! We need to redistribute our responsibilities!”

“Peter Parker,” MJ hisses, “I will turn this car around and go back to the chapel where I left my car.”

“Then who’s going to look after the baby while I’m driving? Our aardvark? Besides, you can’t start from way back there this far into the game. You’ll never catch up.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll lap you! Just watch!”

“And you just go flying by while I’m busy being a single parent? That’s not fair.”

“I’ll pay for private school,” she negotiates. “And flu shots and stuff, if you land on those spaces.”

He sighs.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do it. This baby is really complicating our lives and they’re not even in the car yet.”

The two of them contemplate the board.

“JUST HAVE SEX!” Ned yells.

Startled, MJ looks up at her friend.

“Uh,” he backtracks, “I mean, to have the baby. You can totally have a baby on a road trip.”

She doesn’t know about Peter, but she’s kinda doubting that Ned is that frustrated about them arguing over sticking a plastic baby in their car. He needs to say something to take that back and make the atmosphere normal again, not like it is now, with MJ practically jumping when Peter’s foot brushes hers. Unfortunately, Ned stands instead of fixing this awkward mess of emotions he’s created.

“Where are you going?” she demands.

“I’m done.”

This seems like more drama―like Ned’s done with them and their baby debate―until he points at where the looping Life highway ends. His car’s parked at the less luxurious retirement home; with Peter and MJ combining their salaries, Ned has no hope of winning the game, since it all comes down to how much money you have. Capitalism, MJ thinks scornfully. Capitalism and a dozen baby spaces.

“Oh.”

“You guys finish,” Ned encourages before MJ thinks to tell Peter to just end it there and pack the game up. “You’re like three-quarters of the way through.”

“If you want to,” she hears herself saying to Peter as she casts an uncertain glance his way.

“Ok. If you do.”

Ned chuckles.

“Alright, you two. Enjoy your road trip.”

It’s a little awkward when he’s gone, awkward and quiet. Peter jumps up from where they’re stretched out on the floor and puts on a road trip playlist. MJ doesn’t stir up an argument over the music; there’s enough tension just with them being alone. Ned was supposed to stay later. There were supposed to be more games and then a marathon of the Jaws movies, ordered by how many people get eaten. That’s what the three of them agreed on and what MJ knows May is expecting. May, who Peter said (with extreme discomfort) told him not to wait up for her because she’s out with Happy. That little announcement of his, made so offhandedly an hour ago, now drapes the room that only the two of them occupy, heavy with new meaning in Ned’s absence. They’re alone and Peter’s just put on Bruce Springsteen.

With unspoken agreement, MJ flicks the spinner and Peter moves their car―they pretend like they never landed on that baby space. They don’t need that right now, trying to get out from under the feeling of having the apartment to themselves and the knowledge that the only thing that’s put the brakes on the making out they’ve done so far in their relationship has been the arrival of other people. They lie to themselves that it’s still just a road trip for their two plastic people (never mind the combined salaries and the shared mansion and the joint custody of an array of exotic animals) and still just a board game for them (never mind the way Peter’s looking over at her and the way MJ keeps looking back to check if he’s looking).

They survive “Born to Run” and are startled into concentration by “Highway to Hell” and landing on the square that forces them to change careers. A couple of forgettable road trip songs follow those, and then “Drive My Car” comes on. MJ’s never thought of the Beatles as the creators of a soundtrack for seduction, so why does this song suddenly have such a sexy lilt to it? Why is every line a double entendre? Why do she and Peter both reach to move their car at the same moment and end up overturning it (R.I.P.) as their fingers intertwine?

She’s about to say how dumb that is, how cliché, when his hand tightens around hers and he jerks her forward. Forget their car―she just took out an entire plastic mountain range with her knee and she’ll probably have a bruise later. She can’t check at the moment because her eyes are fixed on Peter’s, but only sort of, since his face is too close to look at properly. So MJ doesn’t look. Her breathing is quick and somehow the seconds are slow, the press of his nose into her cheek should be clumsy and embarrassing; instead, it’s gradual and sweet. Peter exhales through his mouth and she feels his air on her lips. As she tries to watch and not watch, her eyelashes flutter like crazy, and it’s finally his trembling grasp on the back of her neck that sinks her deep into the moment, which is when he tilts his face just enough to touch his lips to hers.

MJ sucks in―at least half of it has to be his used oxygen and maybe that’s what makes her a little dizzy―and chases her hormones forward. They lead her hands to Peter’s shoulders and send her scrambling into the lap he quickly constructs for her, rearranging his limbs and scattering colourful Life currency with a careless swipe of his foot. She ends up on her knees with both hands cupping his face. She hasn’t quite managed to straddle him properly, like women do so effortlessly in the movie scenes they both blush over and pretend to not really watch when they’re together. Rather than being centered over him, she’s straddling just one of his legs, but she’s too self-aware to want to move, terrified that Peter will realize she’s screwed up this attempt to bring them closer. It was supposed to be sexy. She was supposed to instinctively know how.

Maybe he thinks he can fix it, or maybe he has his own reasons for repositioning them. Either way, he shifts the leg she’s straddling and it rubs between hers. She doesn’t know what song’s playing now, just that it isn’t playing loud enough to cover the way she breathes in―rough, short, unpolished. Move your thigh, Peter, she thinks. She can’t say it out loud because if she said it out loud it would be a snapped command, a chastisement, a rejection. What MJ wants is for it to be an invitation. Even though their mouths break apart, there isn’t anything she wants to say. The nice thing, the right thing, is the sound of their lips parting. It’s good, though not cartoonish, not scripted like a board game. It’s a sound that makes her want more, but she waits for Peter to initiate this time.

She expects his mouth; she gets his hands. They slide up her back, softly, bunching her t-shirt without seeming to try to deliberately undress her. Only once her back is securely in his hands does Peter’s face come impossibly close to hers again. But he doesn’t kiss her. His cheek just rests against hers while his palms warm and rub her back. Abruptly, he raises his thigh again and MJ―willpower departed to parts unknown―rocks shallowly in response.

“We kinda messed up the game board,” he says quietly.

“Your Life is ruined,” she agrees and it’s funny, but neither of them laughs. The skim of his cheek across hers is making her heart race.

“Would you…” His voice runs dry. With a little grunted clearing that’s enough to liquify this desire between her legs, he gives it another shot: “Would you want to, uh, see some stuff in my room? My bedroom. With me.”

“Sweet,” MJ agrees. Her tone is high and flighty, a hot air balloon with its lines loosed. “Road trip.”

They glance at each other constantly over the course of their very short trip. From the second MJ stands, Peter holds her hand securely in his, snatched from where it hung at her side. This is so moronic; she’s been in his room before. When Ned was there too. And May was home. And they weren’t dating yet. Quickly, she gives up on trying to think of this as the same as those other times, because it’s not. There’s not much interesting in this room that MJ hasn’t seen―just what Peter looks like without his clothes on.

With bravado, MJ marches all the way into his bedroom, straight to the opposite wall, where she looks out the window. Can’t go any farther. It’s like the stop signs on the board game.

“We don’t have to do anyth―” Peter seems to swallow his tongue when she faces him and whips her shirt off over her head. “Anything,” he chokes out.

“I wanna go forward,” she asserts defiantly, though she’s not sure who she’s defying, since her boyfriend’s eyes on her bra hint that he’s probably ok with this. His gaze rises to her face.

“So do I.”

“Good,” MJ says with a little twitch of her head.

Peter yanks his shirt off and, clenching and unclenching his hands like he’s psyching himself up, approaches her. Rather than sweeping her feet out from under her, he holds her hand again and brings her over to his bed.

Sitting cross-legged on his drawn-back sheets as they start kissing, MJ finds they do go forward. She keeps her hands to herself until she can’t help it and puts her palms on his knees. His fingers trace her waist before he’s bold enough to grip her more securely.  It can’t take more than five minutes for her to shuffle closer and him to draw her in with eager hands. Like playing Life, they have small moves (the first time MJ runs a hand down his bare chest) and big ones (when Peter rolls on top of her), double turns if you’re not in the lead (somehow she’s naked first and retaliates by removing his jeans and boxers together) and spaces that pull you up short (the long pause while he hovers over her, right after he asks if he should get a condom). Like riding in a car down a highway on a hot summer day, it’s exhilarating and exhausting, sweaty and satisfying. They lie side by side on their backs, breathing hard, and MJ thinks they’re definitely someplace different from where they started.

She wonders what she’ll say if Ned texts to ask who won.

[lampmeeting]

If you still need a toki/mags prompt, can I suggest 40 or 42? (I made this for you / is this ok?) I'd love to see anything anyone else picks instead too so don't worry about this one if there are others!

ohh thank you!! “is this ok?” grabbed at me immediately :O

this one gets a bit lewd and a little sad........sorry...(but it’s sweet!)

also post-doomstar, but maybe like 3 or 4 months after the other fic (sorry it’s mostly in magnus’ apartment again haha, the poor man doesn’t get out much)

=+=

A kiss on his way out the door became a regular occurrence. A quick press of lips, a soft sigh, a softer smile, and then Toki would head home. Magnus didn’t know what the fuck it meant, hadn’t really felt up to analyzing it yet. He just knew he liked it when it happened, and obviously it was something Toki wanted to do since he initiated every single time. Even so, once Magnus was left alone in his apartment, there would come that not-so-small voice in the back of his head screaming doubts at him, as it liked it do.

After what you’ve done, you don’t deserve this. Especially not from him.

The next time Toki flew over, Magnus had promised to take him to that really nice aquarium over in Scottsdale. Toki had been talking about it for weeks and texting him pictures from their website. “They gots the movings stairs with a fish tanks all arounds you!” And he was right, they did, and Toki dragged Magnus up and down that escalator at least a dozen times.

Well, maybe dragged was a strong word. Aggressively encouraged, perhaps. Magnus wasn’t really a fish guy, but he had to admit his heart swelled with affection as Toki stared up at the curved glass of the tunnel, pointing out fish as he saw them and tugging at Magnus’ arm.

“Looks at that ones! Oh oh! That ones! And those ones! Oh, wowee!”

The touch pools were Toki’s favorite, though. He flinched with a squeak each time he poked a grippy sea anemone, and he gazed with wonder at the scuttling underside of a horseshoe crab as one of the handlers showed it off to him and a bunch of gathered kids. He tried to get Magnus to pet the stringrays but every time one started to glide close Magnus lost his nerve and popped his hand out of the water to a chorus of children’s laughter. He really wasn’t a fish guy. Still, the brief humiliation seemed worth it if only to hear Toki’s laughter like music over the other voices.

After a visit to the gift shop, they rode the bus back to the Home for Wayward Musicians where Magnus was still set up. Things were...better, he supposed. The job was good. He wouldn’t say rewarding exactly, but it was whatever. And he wasn’t being kept tabs on so strictly anymore, had more freedoms. Still didn’t have a car, but Toki had convinced Offdensen to have a proper lock installed in the door and to remove the security cameras. Dude wasn’t even their manager anymore and he was still taking care of shit. Magnus understood that inability to walk away.

Once inside, Toki took a running dive onto the sofa, hugging his new stuffed whale, sprawled out on his back. “This was the best days evers!”

Magnus peered down at him, resting elbows on the back cushions, exhausted and achy in his chest, but content. “Glad you had fun, buddy.”

“And you hads fun, toos?”

He did, actually. “Yeah.”

Toki smiled, smooshing his cheek into the fuzzy whale. “That’s good to hears.”

Magnus realized he was smiling back and cleared his throat, ears warm. “You wanna get a pizza or something? I dunno about you, but that jellyfish funnel cake in the food court didn’t really do it for me.”

Toki’s eyes twinkled. “Yes please! Ooo!” He sat straight up. “Cans we gets that place whats has the reallies good, um, tir--tirs--um, tirmas--”

“Tiramisu? You mean Parlor?”

“Yeps!” Just as Magnus was about to fret about the cost, Toki added, “I wants to pays for it, toos.”

“What? No way, you’re visiting me. You’re not paying for dinner.” That hurt to say because Parlor was fucking expensive as hell, but it was the principle of the damn thing. He was trying to be a less shitty person, after all. And besides, Toki was only able to come see him every couple weeks, so in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t too terrible.

“But you pays for the aquariums,” Toki said. “And the bus. Ands my whale.”

Magnus felt like he was arguing over the check at the end of a date. No, no, honey, of course you’re not paying. Put your wallet away, this is my treat.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re my guest and I wasn’t raised in a fucking barn. I’ve got this, so don’t you even--uh, what’re you doing?” He almost laughed. “Are you texting right in the middle of me fucking talking to you?”

Toki was on his phone, tapping away with his thumbs, the whale nestled in his arms. His tongue poked out and Magnus fell silent, watching it play across his wet lips. Oh, that was...oh.

After a moment, Toki held up his screen with a smug grin. “Ha! Reads it and weeps!”

Magnus blinked hard to clear the daze from his head and squinted. Order Completed - Thank You! Oh, that crafty bastard had ordered the pizza online! “Hey, not cool, man. You can’t just do that!”

Toki sat there and giggled up at him. “But I dids it!”

The pizza came (Toki had picked Magnus’ favorite, the margherita, damn him) and they ate and watched Dirty Harry and had a few beers. Magnus was still feeling a little gripey about Toki getting the upper hand, but about halfway through the movie Toki finished off the last bite of his tiramisu and reclined into Magnus’ shoulder, and that improved his mood more than he wanted to admit.

“I likes this movie.”

“It’s a classic for a reason,” Magnus said, casually throwing his arm around the guy. Couch cuddles were a normal thing for them now--just something else he refused to think about too hard. It was enough to just enjoy it.

As he settled in a little closer, Toki made a small, relaxed sound in the back of his throat that could’ve easily doubled as a moan, and Magnus’ heart throbbed with a weird skip. His breath caught for a second and heat pooled heavy in his hips. Fuck, he was not doing this right now. He was too old to get hot and bothered just from the sound of someone’s voice. And it didn’t help that Toki kept shifting and rubbing up on him.

Thoughts racing, he traced fingers up and down Toki’s arm and tried to keep his breathing steady for the rest of the movie, barely noticing when Toki snickered at the tits in the topless bar or gasped as Harry dodged bullets fired through the roof of the school bus. When it ended Toki yawned into his whale and announced that he should probably have the jet brought around and start the long flight back home.

Magnus suddenly realized he didn’t want Toki to go at all. Sometimes he had thoughts like that, but never this strong. He wanted to hold Toki snug to him and tell him to call the jet off. He wanted to watch another movie. Play a fucking game. Talk. Anything to keep him in the apartment. But he didn’t say anything, just let Toki get up from his arms and stretch until his fit stomach peeked out between shirt and pants.

He averted his eyes, saw the whale still left on the couch. “You taking this guy?”

“Nopes, he can lives with you. He keeps you company whiles I’m gone so you don’ts gets lonely, okay?"

Magnus’ throat tightened just a bit. “Okay.”

They walked to the door and Toki grabbed him around the middle in a loose hug, grinning up at him. “It was goods to sees you, Magnus. You ams doins, um, reallies great, and I’ms, um.” The grin twitched a little and he went kinda pink high up on his cheekbones. “I’ms prouds of you. S-Sorries, that sounds silly, I thinks...”

“No,” Magnus said quickly, “it’s, uh. It’s fine. That’s good to hear, actually. You, uh--” He swallowed. “--you make it easier, y’know.”

Toki’s eyes went wide and round and looked like two twin aquariums in his head. “Toki...helps?”

“Well...yeah, of course you do, buddy. Of course you do.”

“Oh.” Toki trembled against him. “Ohh, wowee.” Then he craned his neck up and pushed his lips to Magnus’, kissing him firmly. He was delicious, tasting of rich coffee and sugary marscapone. Magnus savored it and waited for him to pull away like he usually did, but Toki twisted fingers in his shirt and moaned and didn’t let him go.

Holy shit, this was new.

And Magnus wanted it.

He reached to cup Toki’s jaw delicately with one hand, his other sliding down to hold him at the small of his back. Toki shuddered and his mouth fell open, deepening the kiss, and he forced Magnus backwards until they thudded into the wall.

“Oof--”

“Sorries.”

“S’fine.”

They continued their crushing kiss and Magnus drew Toki’s hips against his own. Toki gasped, rocked into him, and fuck the guy was already hard. All right, so this was certainly a thing that was happening.

Magnus slipped his hands under the hem of Toki’s shirt to grip at his waist, marveling as core muscles flexed and moved beneath his fingers. How was he in such good shape? What did he do? Magnus tried to think back to when he was that young, all the energy in the world, could get his dick up at the drop of a hat. Better times, man. Could’ve done without the raging smack habit, but, y’know, live and learn.

Fuck, Toki wasn’t slowing down. His breath was fast and needful as Magnus raked hands over him everywhere he could touch. “Magnus--” The kiss broke for a second, long enough for Toki’s pleas to leak out. “More--”

Magnus brushed lips teasingly along Toki’s jaw, his earlobe, down the length of his neck, earning a shaky “oh, fucks”. The earthy smell of the day’s sweat filled his nose, but also the distant scent of strawberries. God damn, was that his shampoo? It made his mouth water and his senses swoon. As he reached the base of his throat, Toki let his head tip back into Magnus’ waiting hand, surrendering to him with a shivering groan.

All right, now was Magnus was hard. He could get off just listening to this. But as he took a moment to adjust himself in his jeans, reality, unfortunately, caught up to him. Every doubt he’d been stuffing down, every nagging feeling that lingered in the wake of Toki’s goodbye kisses, they crowded in on him now and demanded to be dealt with. He pulled back and Toki rubbed bleary eyes, obviously confused.

“What’s wrongs?”

Magnus tried to steady his breath. He didn’t know how to explain himself. “Just, uh. I dunno, Toki. Is this...okay?”

Toki seemed to sober a bit at the question. “Is whats okay?”

“What we’re doing.”

“Magnus.” Toki heaved a frustrated sigh. “Is totallies normal for two mens to kiss each others and be--”

“I know that,” Magnus said, and he couldn’t help the slight laugh that huffed out of him. “I know that very well, trust me. No, I meant, like, us specifically. Is this okay for us.”

“I thinks sos. Why wouldn’ts it?”

“Because of, well--” Over Toki’s shirt, he pressed a palm to his back where he knew the knife scar still marked his skin. “This.”

Toki had shown him the scar a few months ago, was almost excited to. He’d said the lights had made him heal faster and better than he should’ve, and the scar was only barely raised and felt smooth to the touch. Magnus still didn’t know what he thought about lights and gods and prophecies. It all felt so far away from him, and when he thought about what he had seen that night, the star and the bolts of white electricity, Toki felt far away too, even moreso than he was already.

“Oh,” said Toki. “Right. That.”

“Yeah.”

“I know we don’ts...talks about it very much,” Toki said, looking down and fiddling with the buttons on Magnus’ shirt. They really should talk about it more, Magnus resolved. It would be good for both of them. “But, um. Evens though you hurt me and dids bad things, ams givins you the second chance. I know you wasn’ts my friends before, but you ams my friends now. And you makes me happy, and I cares about you, so I’ms not gonna gives up on you.”

Magnus’ heart beat in his throat. That just might’ve been the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him. “I...care about you, too.” He tried to squeeze out more words, like thank you for one, but there was an honest to god possibility he’d start to choke up.

Toki seemed to understand his difficulty and smiled as he brought Magnus’ hand back to the curve of his cheek. “Kiss me agains.”

“If youre sure it’s okay.”

“Is more than okays.”

This time it was tender and unhurried, still just as heated but without the frantic urgency, very unlike any kiss Magnus has ever experienced. There was a love in it, something gentle, something that made him ache so sweetly inside and at the same time catch fire.

“I don’ts wants to go,” Toki sighed into his mouth.

“Then don’t go,” Magnus said, burning, their foreheads touching. “I’m so fucking tired of missing you when you’re gone. Stay with me tonight? Please?” To say please, to ask for such a thing aloud so blatantly, it was like cracking his chest open all over again, exposing his heart.

Toki nodded, rubbing their noses together, and he took Magnus by the wrists and drew him away from the door. “Lets me takes you to bed.”

“Toki...”

“Lets me takes care of you.”

Magnus allowed himself to be led. And in the comforting darkness of the bedroom, with his arms curled over Toki’s strong shoulders, he allowed himself to be loved.

[luvknow]

not so bad | lee minho

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | friends-to-lovers ; roommates ; college au ; swearing ; alcohol consumption

summary: falling for your best friend isn’t the most ideal situation, but it’s not as bad as you think

wc: 13.7k

For most people, living with your best friend sounded like the most ideal situation - the absolute best and only option. Most people couldn’t even begin to think about living with anyone else. Think about it; endless nights staying up watching some shitty Netflix live-action adaptation of an anime, eating Chinese take-out on lazy Sunday evenings, going grocery shopping together? The list of things to do together was infinite! Who else would anyone want to do all the boring domestic stuff with other than their best friend?

But you, on the other hand, would rather be homeless.

“Wo~ow,” Minho scoffed when you rejected his generous offer.

The two of you sat in his newly-furnished, but still a bit empty, living room to take a break from unpacking and arranging all of his junk. About a month before the new semester started, Minho’s rich-ass uncle so graciously offered him one of his several houses just a couple bus stops away from campus. As long as Minho kept the place clean and maybe got a roommate or two to help pay the mortgage, then he was free to stay until he graduated. Of course, you were the first person he asked because the above statements spent with you sounded like so much fun.

Too bad you’re cold and heartless and wanted him to die alone.

“Why don’t you want to move in?” his asked, cheeks filled with lo mein. “Didn’t you just say you hated living at your place?”

“I didn’t say I hate it… I just hate that she brings a different guy over every other day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds like normal roommate shit. It’s better than her being a slob, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but when it’s 2:00 am and I can hear EVERYTHING through the walls, I want to jump off the balcony.”

“Not everything.”

“I mean it, Minho. Everything.”

“Damn, invite me over next time.” You chuck a piece of your half-eaten fortune cookie and it hit him right on his bare forehead leaving a tiny scratch mark. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“Stop being weird!”

“If you hate hearing all that gross stuff all of the time, isn’t that all the more reason for you to come live with me?”

“No, because you’ll literally do the same thing!”

“Ok, you have way too much faith in me to think I’m going to bring someone home that often.”

“Hm, I do, don’t I…”

“C’mon, cheap rent, cool aesthetics, good company - what’s actually holding you back? Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

Minho held a single chopstick between his big bunny teeth and did that weird little smirk and wiggly brow combo that somehow caught the hearts too many girls back in your high school days. To this day, you were one of the lucky few who didn’t fall under his spell. The sriracha sauce stains on his cheek made him look EXTRA sexy.

“Why in the world would living with you mean I’d fall in love with you?” you asked, shoving a napkin to his cheek.

“Don’t girls like that corny domestic lifestyle shit? Coexisting in the same space, mutual seemingly-platonic hugs and cuddles, cooking together, and all that jazz?”

“You’re not even into all that jazzy stuff!”

“I like to cook!”

“And then what, I’m left with the dishes? I’ll be falling head over heels for you in no time.”

“That’s how mutualism works, silly! We each benefit from each other’s skills! Symbiosis, or whatever.”

A giggle left your lips from his expanded vocabulary. Who knew he knew so many words with more than two syllables?

“Those are some complicated words. I take it you like Biology 101?” you asked.

“I do! It’s super cool! Did you know in most species, the male is known to be the more colorful and prettier one and not the females? And the males compete with each other and the females are the ones choosing the prettiest, strongest male?”

“I did not know that.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s called sexual selection - it’s like peacocking.”

“Sounds like some shit you do with all your name brands and stuff.”

“Please, like other guys could even compare to my train of feathers.”

In the end, after days flowed into weeks of begging you to come live with him in what he called his playboy penthouse, he reluctantly accepted your rejection and was off to beg one of his other friends because there was no way in hell could he afford this place alone. Though ideally Minho wanted to be roommates, having you visit often was close enough. It’s just… asking you to move in with him was not about helping him with rent in the least. He truly, genuinely wanted to do dumb domestic chores, bicker all day, and have those deep, late-night talks with you whenever he could. Wouldn’t it be so fun if he annoyed you and followed you around every waking minute of the day?

Doing all of those things to half the extent would be just enough for now. His favorite activities with you were anything involving food. Even grocery shopping, normally one of his least favorite and most stressful chores by himself, was tolerable with you around because you knew just the right cuts of meat and what ingredients were needed for the perfect meal.

“Why did you pick so many vegetables? I’m not a rabbit…” the seemingly twelve year old next to you pouted. Like an angsty teenager, he used the cart as a means of support and followed closely behind with a pout on his lips as you dumped vegetable after vegetable into the cart.

“You kind of look like one, though.”

“Are you callin’ me cute?”

“I’m calling you a nuisance.”

“A cute nuisance, right?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying.”

But soon the semester would start and your day would no longer be spent with him, it’d be spent at the library either studying or tutoring the dumb freshmen. Before you ask, yes, he was jealous of all the other people who took up your time and yes, he’s very clingy. You could see where Soonie, Doongie, and Dori all got their bad habits from. Normally, with any other guy including some long-term boyfriend, you’d be tired and annoyed if they were anything like Minho. But only the real Minho could get away with texting you so often and wondering why you weren’t baking brownies with him at ten at night.

Things weren’t easy on your end, either. You barely had time for yourself and it was only the first round of midterms for the semester! All you ever did these days was wake up, eat, school, eat some more if and ONLY IF you had time, and finally sleep… sometimes. This routine included the weekends, too. You offered for Minho to join you in the library for a study sesh nearly every day, but he’d rather die than sit in germ-infested chairs that are never sanitized, so yeah, you don’t get to see him face-to-face very often anymore. Facetime and Skype would have to do for now.

But then all that lost time started to catch up with you. You’d often come home late, especially if you knew your roommate had someone over to do their thang, and before you could flop on your couch to take a breather, it was completely missing from the living room because your roommate packed up all of her shit and left! Without even telling you! How rude, right!? Until you found a note on the coffee table that said, ‘I moved out today! Sorry if this is such short notice… You haven’t been home the past couple of weeks for me to tell you in person and I didn’t want to break it to you in text…’

Ok, so you wouldn’t say you were totally not at fault for this considering she was considerate enough to want to tell you about moving out in person, but didn’t she think to at least text you like… a couple of days before she did it!? Your lease was supposed to renew tomorrow, but now there wasn’t enough time to find a last-minute roomie on the college forum-version of craigslist and you didn’t make enough money to pay for the rent solo, so now you were almost homeless.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Minho’s place at half-past midnight on the dot with your big stuffed bear in your arms and a cheeky, adoring smile on your guilty-written face. You must have woken him up because his fluffy hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were barely open, and… he was shirtless…

“I’m not interested in your Girl Scout Cookies,” he mumbled tiredly.

“I wish I was selling those, then maybe I wouldn’t be here…”

“What do you mean?”

“Guess who wants to be your roommate ~!” you sang cheerfully.

“No.”

“Wha-? Why not!?”

“I already have one.”

“Who!?”

“Changbin,” he said, shooting his thumb to the small lazy boy lounging on the couch. Wasn’t he rich as fuck also? What does he need to live here for?

“‘Sup,” Changbin greeted, unable to look away from the television.

“Don’t you have one more room in this place? I’ll even sleep in a closet if I have to,” you pouted tiredly. You were ready to ring in the water works if you had to because if Minho rejected you one more time, your tears were ready to flow.

“Whoa, you’re that desperate, huh? What happened?”

“Roommate moved out, I couldn’t find another one, cried and contemplated life for a little bit, and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that is pretty bad…”

“Yeah, so as you can see, I really need you right now.”

Minho knew you were never one to rely on people, no matter how close you two were. For as long as he could remember, you always did everything on your own. So for you to say that you needed him, you must have really meant it. Your words were soft and quiet, your gaze set on the porch you stood on, and of all things he hated, seeing you so upset and stressed like this was among his top five on the list. How could he turn you away when this was a time you needed him the most? He knew if he were in your position, you’d welcome him in without hesitation.

You sighed tiredly, pushing your pride aside to ask a friend a favor. “So could you spare another roommate? Just until I can get back on my feet again?”

“Hm…” Minho fake-contemplated, rubbing his scruffy chin. “You know, normally I would never do this, but since you’re my friend, I GUESS I could let you stay here until you’re set.”

“If it’s too much trouble, or if you don’t want me here, I can go -”

“No! You’ll stay here with me for as long as you’d like.” A half-naked but jolly Minho smothered you in a bone-crushing hug. Even though touching so much surface area of his skin made you cringe, his hug made you feel more at home than your apartment could ever make you feel.

“Don’t ever assume I don’t want you here, dumbass. I’ll always welcome you with my open, naked, buff arms.”

“Ugh, this is so gross.” Regardless, you returned his hug with equal force. You never felt safer. “Thank you. I seriously owe you one.”

“Anything for my girl. Where’s all your stuff?”

“Yeah, that sounded more like a tomorrow problem, but I came here tonight because I was lonely.”

“Ha ha, you miss me ~”

“Just a little.”

“Since you’re already here, just stay the night. We can order food and start our big, happy, poly-domestic partnership right now.”

“For the love of God, please do not say that aloud in public…”

“No promises.”

Minho dragged you into the only other bedroom that wasn’t occupied and you’re pretty sure it was just as big as your living room. It was pretty much furnished with all of the basics, so you’re lucky that you won’t have to bring too many heavy things in the morning. As you were admiring the room, a finally fully-clothed Minho chucked his pajamas at you.

“You can wear these for tonight,” he said.

“Ew! Why did you give me your boxers!?”

“I thought my pants would be too long on you?”

“I’m not wearing wearing these.”

“So ungrateful… My sweatpants are in my room in the drawer. Go nuts.”

Minho left you alone to go order food for his two favorite pals while you were left to your own devices in the room where the magic happened, as he called it. For a dude, you knew he was on the cleaner side, but his bedroom was a lot tidier than you expected. There weren’t any clothes on the floor, all of his accessories were placed neatly by the mirror, and the only thing out of place was his blanket that was jumbled up in the corner of his bed. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you for disturbing his beauty sleep, but like you said at the door, you owed him one. Well, maybe more than one… like, a dozen ones…

While looking through the drawers for pants, you rolled your eyes at the site of all the name brands embroidered near the pockets. The logos were strictly swooshes and SUPREME. An opportunity to wear matching sweatpants and hoodie that were worth more than your textbooks didn’t come very often, so you chose the heather gray pair. Just as you slipped your head through the top, Minho came in to check on you.

“I ordered chicken, I hope that’s cool - whoa!” Minho burst into a fit of giggles at the site of his his already-oversized sweats looking extra oversized on you. You’ve worn his hoodies before and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way you look in them. You’re just so cute.

“You look like a jumbo toasty marshmallow.”

“I wouldn’t say jumbo… and marshmallows aren’t gray.”

“Same difference. Are you ready yet? Changbin’s gonna drink your beer if you don’t come out sooner.”

“That little -! He’s such a roach!!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom and hopped over the empty side of the couch, scaring the boy dressed in all black who was just trying to eat his chips and watch How to Get Away With Murder in peace. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Minho, but you two hung out within the same circle enough to be comfortable around each other so living with him shouldn’t be TOO terrible. Luckily, your drink looked like it hadn’t been touched.

“So are you like, living here living here?” Changbin asked with fake disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, so get used to it.”

“Just when I thought I’d get Minho all to myself…”

“What are you doing here, anyways? Aren’t you also like, super dumb rich? You could probably buy this whole building.”

“No, my parents are super dumb rich. I, on the other hand, barely have a dime to my name until I graduate law school.”

“Oh yeah, you changed your major right?”

“Yeah, and let’s just say my parents weren’t too happy about that… Thankfully, my favorite hyung here has so graciously let me into his home ~”

“Yeah yeah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing himself in the middle. “Anything’s better than being alone in this place, even if it means housing you two rats.”

“Hey, you said you’d always welcome me here, so that’s your fault for agreeing,” you argued.

“Love you, babe ~” Changbin sang.

Once the chicken arrived, your night of being welcomed to the penthouse had only begun. The rest of the evening was spent talking about literally anything your tipsy and dumb brains could conjure up. From crying about school, to praying to the stars, and telling Changbin stories about yours and Minho’s prepubescent days, you could already predict your days living here would make your heart full.

“I bet you’re single, huh, _____?” Changbin said suddenly after popping open his third beer.

A conversation about each other’s love lives was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially when alcohol was involved, but your mouth started talking before your brain could process.

With a pout on your lips, you retorted, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because what person would be ok with having their girlfriend living at another dude’s apartment and with me as the other roommate?”

“If you already knew the answer, why bother asking?”

“I just wanted to confirm in case you and I accidentally fall in love.”

“I’ll evict both of you before I let that happen under my roof.” Minho slurred.

“What is with you and Minho and the whole roommates falling in love trope? Is that a common thing? Have you two been watching dramas since you started living together?”

“So what if we have!?” Changbin yelled.

“They’re not realistic, you know.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“I feel sorry for the next person you end up dating.”

“Yeah, me too.” Changbin took a huge, final chug of his beer before crushing it in his hands. So macho… “All right, I guess it’s time I pass out. See you guys in the morning. Don’t get too crazy while I’m asleep.”

“Nighty night.”

You and Minho were left in the quiet living room snuggled up in your own blankets. You thought the silence was comfortable, as you’ve spent enough time with him that not a word said in between for long periods of time was just fine, but by the look on his face you could tell something was up. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he was just tired, but his eyes never left the random spot on the coffee table for a solid five minutes.

You threw a potato chip at his cheek.

“Hm?” he hummed, surprisingly unphased. His tired eyes turned to look at you questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, my Prince?” The origin of the beloved nickname was from the time you dared him to try out for the high school play as the leading role and to your excitement and his dismay, he was passed the audition. He’d never admit it to your face, but he kind of enjoyed the spotlight and popularity for a while, and he never lets you forget how much he loved that nickname.

You managed to crack a smile from him and your worries began to fade away. “I was just thinking about something.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What Changbin said - what if you end up really liking someone and they’re not ok with you living with two hot and sexy guys?”

“Well, he can either get over it or I’ll dump him.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Remember that pact we made our first year of high school? The one where we pinky promised each other that no matter what, we wouldn’t let anyone come in between us?”

“Of course I do, but we were like what, fourteen? That was so long ago!”

“So?”

“So what I mean is…”

The ruggedly handsome boy beside you sighed deeply like he was ready to tell you something important. He laid his heavy hands on your shoulder and pulled you close so that you had all of your attention on him and not the fact that there was only two inches between your faces and that he smelled like alcohol. Was his skin always this clear? What the hell was his skincare routine? The blush on your cheeks continued to glow brighter as his eyes bore deep into your own, like he was searching for an answer to a question that only you held the answer to. He must admit that your shy side made you look so cute. Each second that passed was more intimate than the last and you so wished that he’d tell you what the hell was up with him already because your inadvertent breath-holding from the close proximity was making you light-headed. This felt like one of those scenes in those corny dramas that Minho watches - was he about to… dare you say… kiss you…?

Then you figured Minho learned a thing or two in drama class because his serious persona flew out the window when he shook you roughly by the shoulders, but at least you could breathe freely again.

“You shouldn’t have to choose between me and someone you like ~!” he whined childishly. “If he doesn’t like you living here, and you really like him, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle!”

“Minho, you idiot, you’re the sole reason I’m not homeless and dying on the street, so what the hell do you want me to do IF that ever happens!? Move out!?”

“Ah, I didn’t think about it that way…”

“Lee Minho,” you emphasized to the pouty boy. “If - if - I meet someone I like, and they don’t like that I’m living with two guys, then fine, I can understand that and feelings like that can easily change over time. But if he can’t understand that you’re my best friend, that I cherish our friendship more than anything, and thinks there’s something else going on, then that’s when I’ll dump him. So there’s no need for you to worry that I have to choose between those two, ok?”

Minho sighed once more, breathing out all his worries about you being alone forever and stuck being a hermit in his apartment. “Ok, I believe you.”

“God, you’re so weird! Since when did my love life matter to you?”

“We’re nearing graduation, _____. We’re not getting any younger! And look, we’re both STILL single as a pringle…”

“When you and I are twenty-five and alone, unemployed and rotting away in this very room, then that’s when we’ll cry about it. But for now, we gotta worry about graduating.”

“I know. I just want you to be happy ~” With crocodile tears in his big, curious eyes, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. It reminded you of all the times you told him not to touch you because he was being too sappy or he was sweaty and proceeded to hug you tighter anyways. Those were the best hugs.

“Shut up, I am happy.”

“Good.”

“What about you, hm? What if a girl you like sees that I live here?”

“Easy - I’ll just say you’re the housekeeper.”

“… You’re going to make one dumb girl very happy one day.”

“You think so?” he asked sincerely. “You really think I could make someone happy one day?”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to tell Minho how much happiness and sunlight he brought into your life. From the minor inconveniences to the darkest days, Minho was always your only source of light. You were way too tired to even attempt to be cheesy with him and closed your eyes instead, relaxing into his tight hug and hoping sleep would find you sooner rather than later.

“I know so, Lee Know.”

You stayed in Minho’s arms while the hum of the television and rhythm of his heart lulled you to sleep. Your favorite boy was content with where he was - holding you in his arms and stroking your hair until you were asleep and you didn’t have to worry about school, moving out, and whether this was mutually platonic or anything but. He thinks that there’s no way that ordinary best friends could lay like this and not cause any sort of tension in between. Then again, you two were extraordinary at best, so maybe the standard rules didn’t apply. To an unknowing passerby, this scene might look like two people in love who couldn’t get enough of each other. If Changbin came to see this, he’d probably think the same thing.

In the end, Minho wouldn’t care what anyone thought if they saw. It didn’t matter because this just felt so… right.

He’ll question his tugging heartstrings some other time.

Minho ended up carrying your sleeping form to your room. After tucking you in and resisting the urge to crawl onto the open space beside you, he thinks to himself that he could get used to this.

There was no way you could get used to this.

For such a huge place, only one of the two bathrooms had a shower. Which seemed fine, right? Considering there were only three of you living there. But you totally forgot that you lived with two of the most high-maintenance men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Minho wasn’t as bad as Changbin because he didn’t spend an hour moisturizing his entire body and fixing his hair - he only took half an hour. But you know that weird thing guys do when they take a dump they take an extra half hour just to play phone games or scroll through social media? So think about it, two boys who are mildly-to-severely high maintenance took a total of almost three hours using the damn bathroom.

That wasn’t even the worst of it! Other than the night you told Minho you were moving in, you guys haven’t had any fast food since. The two of them were watching their weight and muscle progress together so their diet strictly cut out carbs and the good stuff which meant the fridge was filled with veggies and brown grains you couldn’t even pronounce.

And even then, that wasn’t the worst. The absolute worst was when Minho would text you or call you at nine on the dot every single night that you weren’t home at that time. First, he’d call, and half of the time you would answer, but when you didn’t, he’d spam your messages until you replied with a pin drop of your location.

Tonight was the last straw.

“Stop calling,” you scolded while walking home from the library.

“So Changbin and I are in the mood for pizza and we figured you wanted some. You must be tired of all the quinoa,” he explained, ignoring your scolding. “Where are you?”

What’s the best way to spook Minho but not to the point where he’d call the police and demand an amber alert?

“I can’t right now. I’m with a guy.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end and something that sounded like he dropped something on the floor. You can hear Changbin’s faint ‘bro, what the hell!’ in the background and Minho heard you stifle a giggle.

“What? A guy? Who?”

“No one you know. I’ll see you when I get home ~!”

“Wait -”

You hung up before Minho could get another word in and you instantly regretted it. Once Minho found out you were kidding, he was probably going to relieve you of your pizza privileges and force you to eat more quinoa as punishment. You would hate it initially, but if there was even a slight chance that this made your message to him to stop worrying and calling you all the time crystal clear, then you’d eat bowls upon bowls of it and get all the grains stuck between your teeth because that’s how worth it it’d be.

What the hell had gotten into him, anyways? He was never like this in high school. If anything, HE was the boy you’d sneak out with, doing dumb hooligan things with, and being too close for comfort with - he was the boy he was trying to protect you from. Not even your parents were this protective, but you had to give him credit for being so diligent.

You weren’t too far from home, so you left Minho’s texts all on read until you stepped through the door. Changbin wasn’t surprised in the least that you were joking, and Minho knew you couldn’t have possibly be truthful about that, either, but he stepped out the door and scanned the hallways just to make sure you weren’t actually with some creep. You took this moment to sneak a slice or three before Minho could hoard the whole pie.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” you teased, cheeks filled with cheese.

“I can’t believe you would joke about that.”

“I can,” Changbin muttered.

“What made you guys buy pizza?”

“A man can only eat salads and white chicken for so long. We deserve this.”

“We all deserve this. I wasn’t even on a diet in the first place, I was forced into it.”

“Yeah, but you look great at least, so you’re welcome.”

“Whatever.”

Sure, there were a lot of inconveniences when it came to living with two dudes who annoyingly functioned the same, but you would take on this form of entertainment over television any day. So yeah, Minho was annoying like ninety percent of the time… but he was just being a good friend and worrying about you.

It was nice to be cared for once in a while. Minho was the only one who would go out of his way just for you. Whether it was picking you up in the middle of the night from some party to walk you home or scolding you harshly about how you should wear scarves more so you wouldn’t get sick while making you a hot bowl of soup made with love, he never made you feel like you were an inconvenience. This curfew thing was a little over the top, though.

Changbin went to his room after whining about being a law student and how hard it was that he had to wear a suit everyday to his internship, leaving you and Minho alone at the kitchen table. The kitchen was were you spent most of your time together, whether it was using the table to eat, play dumb board games, or as one big desk to study on. Tons of late-night studying, gossiping, and snacking were spent at this table with Minho sitting across from you every time.

“It’s been about a month since you moved in, right?” he asked, plucking a pepperoni off of your slice. “How do you like it so far?”

There’s a short silence in the air before you answered. It was a little worrying, so he kicked you under the table to make you answer faster. How dare you not immediately answer with anything other than ‘I fucking love it’? “Besides only having five minutes to shower every morning, forced to go vegetarian, and having a 9:00 PM curfew? It’s better than being homeless, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” Another short pause, followed by Minho shyly avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot of fun having you around.”

“Really? I don’t scare any poor souls you try to bring home?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been trying.”

“Whoa, Minho the slut taking a hiatus!?” you teased, earning you a crumpled napkin to the face.

“Shut up.”

“Why the sudden disinterest?”

His shoulders did a tiny shrug as if letting you know that even he was unsure of why. He hoped you’d help him find the answer. “No one catches my eye these days, I guess.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah, ok…”

“Well, what about you, huh? Has your boy-crazy self found someone interesting?”

You take a big, defeated bite into the leftover crust, allowing you to exploit your anger through vigorous chewing. Your efforts have obviously gone to a waste. “You and Changbin always like to remind me that I’m single.”

“I simply asked if you found anyone hot.”

“You know what’s sad? I haven’t…”

“Ah, I see - Changbin and I made your standards too high now, huh?”

“Both of you are probably stashing the hot guys in the gym somewhere because you know I won’t find them.”

“Damn, you caught us.”

“You know what else is sad, though?” Minho had to suffer and watch you sip your cola with your sad, pouty lips. It wasn’t that he felt bad, or anything, you just looked so… self-pitying. He’s seen this look way too often during your first year of college when some other chick would swoop in a steal the guy you had your eyes on. “Even if I did like someone, I don’t think I would act on it.”

“Why the hell would you cockblock yourself like that?”

“I’ve never been on a legitimate date before!”

“You’re such a damsel. You’ve totally been on a date before.”

“Senior prom with Hyunjin doesn’t count.”

“You guys had dinner and some dancing, doesn’t that count?”

You ignored your idiot friend’s justification and would much rather feel sorry for yourself than to consider prom as a legitimate date. You’re what, nearly into your twenties now and have gone this long without a guy properly asking you out on a date, maybe a movie and eating dinner at a nice restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers next to you, and ending the night with a kiss? The thought of your inadvertent abstinence made you want to chug a bottle of something strong.

“Do we still have that bottle of wine lying around?” you muttered, searching every corner of the kitchen. “Aha! Found it.”

“Mm, pizza and old wine. How are you single again? You’re so classy.”

“Do you want a glass or not?”

“… Hand it over.”

So another night was spent drinking and drowning your sorrows away while Minho watched - what else was new? Before, he didn’t think much of these nights, considering they were spent with Changbin also who drank just as much as you did, but Minho hadn’t even finished his first glass yet when you were already pouring your third. You must have been really going through it.

“Ok, I think that’s enough,” Minho scolded, taking the glass away. Clumsily and lazily, you reached out to take it back, but your state of mind was too loopy for you to fight back further. God, your tolerance had gone down significantly as time passed. Was this indication that you were getting old?

“Is this how you’re going to act on your first date at dinner while having several glasses of wine?” the mean boy across teased. “Good luck with that.”

“That’s ok, I’m never going on a first date, anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because who would want to date me?”

“Hey.”

Your eyes are droopy and you feel like you could pass out from the drowsiness of the wine at any second, but Minho’s hand on top of yours snaps you awake. There were plenty of ways you and Minho shared skinship, like hugging, wrestling, high-fiving, and punching each other, but hand-holding was not one of them. It was… weird. You know when cats sometimes put their tiny paws on top of human hands? This was what it reminded you of and you had to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t say that stuff about yourself, only I can do that.”

“Well, there has to be a reason why I haven’t been on a date yet. It’s because I’m unlovable, right? Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was on a real date. Like what do we talk about? The weather? That’s what adults talk about, right?”

“Yeah, if you work a nine-to-five at an accounting firm. You really are kind of hopeless, aren’t you? That’s ok, you and I can practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, practice on me. Pretend you and I are on a date.” Minho left his seat across from you to steal Changbin’s seat that was to your right. The proximity of your bodies was so close that your knees knocked together, but your tipsy best friend was too distracted by your challenge to care. “A~and boom, we’re on a date.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Look, we got our glasses of wine on hand, some dinner, we could even watch a movie if you want. But first thing’s first, we gotta test out your communication skills. What kind of things would you ask or talk about on your date?”

“I guess… What do you major in -?”

“Pause, red flag number one: never talk about school. Next question.”

“U-Uh, what kind of music do you like…?”

“Better. Let’s pretend that I’m some snobby older rich dude and I say, ‘oh, today’s music doesn’t interest me. I prefer classical music such as Bach and Beethoven, you know?’”

“I would never go on a date with someone so pompous and old.”

“Ok, but let’s say you’re dating this guy for money.”

“Minho!”

“At the rate this fake date is going, this is what your future dates are going to look like, _____! I’m just helping you prepare!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… you’re so right. I’m gonna end up as a sugar baby and I’ll be too hyped up about the influx in my bank account that I’ll drop out of college and make this my career!”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that -”

“I can’t believe this is what all my hours in the library have amounted to! Screw good grades, if I can’t find love, then what’s the point! This is it - this is how my life is really going to be like -!”

What Minho said goes in one ear and out the other as both of your hands are tangled in the mess of your hair and your blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. You were making a huge deal out of this fake date but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make a huge deal out of nothing! If this was how you were on a fake date, Minho doesn’t want to know how you’d be on a real date.

The first thing you hear is his boyish laugh as he removed your hands from your head before you could tear out your hair. You look like you have a bird nest on both sides of your pouty face and even though Minho thought you were being ridiculous, you still looked cute regardless. His tiny but warm hands smoothen your messy strands before holding your face. It’s hard to look him in the eyes after your mini breakdown and he didn’t make it easier by the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Was he doing this on purpose because he liked to see you squirm? You didn’t think so when you finally looked up.

Minho didn’t have his signature sly smile where the corners of his lips curled like a cheshire cat. There was no teasing twinkle in his eyes that normally accompanied it, either. Both were softer, like he couldn’t understand why someone as charming, intelligent, and hilarious as you could constantly worry about finding someone who would love you back. How could someone not, when you had the stars in your eyes after spotting a dog across the street, when you could sing an entire concert setlist in the shower, or when you had the cute sad look on your face after you burned your third pancake? Even now, in your tipsy and sad state, your eyes still sparkled and begged to be loved - exactly like all the cute puppies you spotted on your walks with Minho. The thought of someone NOT falling head over heels for you sounded completely ridiculous.

Before his heart could drop to the pit of his stomach, Minho broke the intimacy by squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips puckered like a fish.

“Stop being so sad,” he said sternly.

“Just like that, the sadness is gone,” you sputtered sarcastically, careful not to spit in Minho’s eye.

“I mean it. You’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. No, you’ll find someone who loves you more.”

“How do you know…?”

“Because I’m Lee Know, remember?”

His cocky smirk returned and the corners of his lips curled adoringly. It was a smile you were more accustomed to and you’d never admit it aloud, but you liked this one much better. Soft Minho was kind of gross.

“You’re intelligent, selfless, sometimes funny, and life would be so exciting to be in love with you. I promise you’ll find someone.”

“… Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow, I put so much heart into my speech and that’s all you got out of it!? That I didn’t call you pretty!?”

“All of that doesn’t matter if I’m not cute.”

Minho squeezed your cheeks a bit harder. “Nevermind, you’re hopeless.”

“Ow ok, I’m kidding! Can you let go of my face now!? You know I bruise easily!”

He released his hold on your face and you tried to circulate the blood that pooled up. Minho usually wasn’t good with these types of talks, but something must have changed after high school. What kind of classes was he taking that he was being so poetic to the point that your heart felt like it was fluttering? Must be the bit of wine left in your bloodstream.

Even so, you were thankful. What would you do without your handsome Prince?

“I guess I’ll try to sleep the hopelessness away,” you sighed. Before heading off to your room, you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend’s neck from behind and pressed your rosy cheek to his own. Normally, he’d let out a grossed-out groan, but tonight he returned the gesture with his hands on top of yours. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His chest ached. “Mhm. Love you, too, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, my Prince. Don’t stay up too late.”

The sound of your door closing triggered an empty silence in the entire apartment. Not a single sound is heard other than Minho’s beating heart that felt like it was blasting in his ears. Now he’s alone sitting at the dining table, downing the last of his wine and all he could think about was your lack of presence and how it lingered casually all around him. He could still feel your cheeks in his hands, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and the way the warmth of your cheek heated up his own. That wasn’t enough - he wanted more of you, but that was for a later time even he couldn’t predict. After cleaning up the table and trying to leave those moments in the dining room, they ended up following him to his bed until he was too tired to stay awake thinking about them.

That night, you ended up dreaming about Prince Minho and what it was like to be by his side forever.

It didn’t seem so bad.

There’s this crazy phenomenon that happened to you too many times to count, but this time had to take the cake. There were times when you’d have dreams about not necessarily random people, but people you didn’t normally associate yourself with. Like an old coworker, or a past partner for that one single assignment, or even that one time the guy next to you asked you to borrow a pencil for an exam. They would appear in your dreams at random with no purpose other than to play as your boyfriend, but the morning you wake up, you had this sudden weird… attraction towards them.

Maybe attraction wasn’t exactly the right word, but the moment they stepped into the room, you could feel your face heat up and your palms sweat and it really made you question your type in men because why was your body reacting so sensitively to seeing someone who literally just asked you for a pencil? Maybe this was why you’ve been single for so long…

Now let it be reminded that you’re having these weird, little crushes on guys you practically considered strangers. But now, for the first time in your entire life - in all your years knowing that stupid, handsome idiot, you had your very first dream about Minho. If you acted like a fool in front of strangers, how did you act around your best friend? Let’s just say you didn’t know how to act… or rather, you did what you do best - make things like ten times more awkward than they should be.

What did you do when Minho woke up in the morning with his stupidly cute bedhead and flopped on the couch next to you muttering a soft and gentle ‘good morning ~’? You got up and ran to your room after returning the greeting with a squeaky voice. What did you do when he would wrap his arm around your shoulder in that sly, boyish way that literally meant nothing? You’d run to the bathroom, whether you were at home or out in public.

And what did you do when he would walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist? You literally ran. You went to your room, put on your workout gear, and you ran - ran as far as your legs could take you with your ears blasting music to drown out any thoughts about your best FRIEND.

With his heart sinking, Minho didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, have you seen _____ these past few days?” he asked Changbin sometime around dinner. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand and he made sure he gave himself enough time to ask Changbin for his opinion before you came home.

“Yeah…? I see her like everyday. She lives here, too, you know.”

“I know, but she seems a little distant lately, right?”

“Mm, not with me,” the buff boy shrugged casually. His once unquestioning expression quickly turned into something sly when he realized what kind of situation Minho was in. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“The last thing we did together for more than five minutes was eat pizza and drink wine and that was last week.”

“Did anything happen after drinking wine? We all know how you get when you drink…”

“Mm… she was moping about how she’s never going to go on a date, or something, and then I told her she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Why doesn’t she have to worry?”

It was then that Minho figured maybe this was the reason why you were avoiding him. Shyly, the older boy avoided the teasing gaze from his close friend. “N-No reason.”

“Is it because you told her how wonderful she is? Or how funny, and smart, and how all men were idiots for not falling head over heels for her ~?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you called her pretty, too.”

“Ok, she made me say that!”

“God, no wonder she’s avoiding you! You probably made her fall head over heels for you, or something!”

“… You really think so?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful at the idea.

Thankfully, Changbin didn’t seem to catch it. “If I heard that kind of corny stuff coming from you, I’d react the same way, to be honest.”

The sound of the door unlocking made both boys jump and quickly drop the subject, but not without Changbin shooting Minho a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance that reminded him of his dad whenever he got in trouble. For the first time that week, you didn’t sprint to your room right away. Rather, with a cheeky grin on your lips, you joined the two boys who eyed you suspiciously at the dining table.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Nice to finally see you for more than five minutes,” Minho pouted childishly.

“Aw, you miss me ~?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Why are you so smiley, missy?” the smaller, more suspicious boy squinted.

“I can’t be happy on this fine Thursday?”

“No.”

“Fine, you downer. I’m super stoked because guess who has a date tomorrow ~?”

A short silence fell at the table. The first ten seconds of silence was so the two idiots could process what you just said. The following ten seconds was just a series of different ugly facial expressions from thinking about the question too hard.

“Did Seungmin finally ask that one person out? He’s been talking about it for months, he won’t shut up,” Changbin asked.

“No, not him…”

“Woojin? He’s not really the dating type, though.”

“No, idiot, me! I have a date tomorrow!”

“With who?” Minho finally asked. Of course he knew you were the one with the date, but he didn’t want to believe it until you said it. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter after you told him who it was.

“This guy named Wooyoung in one of my classes. We worked on a project together sometime last year and I just found him in lecture the other day. Small campus, huh? We caught up this past week and he asked me out just now after walking me home. Ah, I can’t believe it!”

Your smile was bright and so big that Minho could hardly see your eyes. He couldn’t recall a time when you were this excited for something since you and him both got accepted to this school. He was happy to see you like this, despite the circumstances. With your eyes all sparkly and cheeks blushed pink, the bit of aching was worth it.

“Oh, I know Wooyoung!” Changbin had a goofy smile when he saw how disappointed you looked. “His dad and my dad are close friends and we got close by coincidence.”

“Aw man, you know him!? I wanted to date someone not within this weird circle of friends!”

“He’s not! He’s like a little bubble outside of the circle.”

“Whatever… he’s nice and rich, at least.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie. Minho, what do you think?”

“Hm?” You raised a curious brow at your spacey friend. Minho had been in his own little world after blocking out the details of how you ended up with a date tomorrow night. He put on a fake smile so you wouldn’t have to worry. “I don’t know Wooyoung, but I’m happy for you.”

“I’m kind of scared… what if I blow it like our fake date?”

“Good thing it was fake, right?” The handsome boy across from you ruffled your hair into a bird’s nest style - much like how it was last week. You were a mess, but you were his pretty little mess. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung may be rich, but his standards aren’t that high - ow! What the hell, dude!” he whined, rubbing his bruising shin.

“You two are so mediocre when it comes to these pep talks… but thank you. I’m so excited that my cheeks hurt because I can’t stop smiling!”

Minho watched you hide your heated face in your hands. He hoped you’d smile like this for a long time, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it.

If the boys were allowed a collective three hours in the bathroom nearly every damn morning, you were allowed three hours to yourself once this evening. You practically put on a spa for yourself in preparation for this. Every centimeter of your body was exfoliated and moisturized, every strand of hair fixed in its place, and every eyelash was coated with mascara. Not to mention that your outfit didn’t have a single wrinkle to be seen.

“Not gonna lie, you look pretty decent,” Changbin admitted while leaning on the doorframe. “Expecting some dessert tonight, if you know what I mean?”

“You think I’ll let it go that far on my very first date? Who do you think I am!”

“A touch-starved damsel.”

“… Shut up.” At 7:00 pm on the dot, you received a text from Wooyoung that he’s here. “Ah, gotta go!”

Like you would on a Monday morning already late for class, you shoved all of your essentials in a bag and scurried for the door, but not before Minho came out of his room and caught you. After putting on your nice shoes, you finally looked up to stare back at your wide-eyed, jaw-dropped friend. The only other time he ever looked at you like that was prom night, and even though you were glammed up times ten that night, his face tonight was more intense. The sudden waves of confusion and erratic heartbeat skips reminded you of why you accepted to go on the date so quickly in the first place: to get rid of these weird feelings for your best friend that you couldn’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whined. “Too much? Or too little?”

Perfect. “No, no. You look fine.”

“Really?”

“I promise. You got everything you need?”

“Uh, wallet, keys, phone…”

“Condom?”

“Minho!!”

“Just kidding! Be sure to practice abstinence because I’m not letting some guy come into our apartment just so you can do THAT.”

“Don’t worry, he has his own place.” He knew you were joking… kind of… you were joking, right…? “I’m kidding.”

“You better be… Don’t forget, curfew’s at 9:00 pm.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at 2:00 am ~!”

You did a final wave goodbye before heading out the door to forget all about Minho while he was stuck being a boring homebody. He heard his other, more irritating roommate tisk annoyingly from across the room.

“Shoulda said something ~” Changbin sang.

“What is there to say?”

“Baby, don’t leave! Why go out with a boy when you can go out with a MAN like me?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t really sound like that, do I?”

“Only sometimes.”

So while you were off on your date, smiling at him like no one else in the world could matter more, Minho would glue his ass to the couch and wait for you to come home.

Your first date was both exactly and the complete opposite of how you expected it to be - quite awkward, but it gradually melted into something you would best describe as comfortable. It didn’t feel very date-like. It felt more like you were eating dinner with a very handsome friend. You could easily see why all of your friends were jealous that you were on this date. Wooyoung was so easy to talk to and just his stare alone, he could get anyone to fall in love with him just like that.

A moment like this, when he’s laughing at your corny joke or fixing a loose strand of hair, was when you truly wished cupid would shoot a thousand arrows into your heart at one time with Wooyoung’s name on the heart-shaped head. That itself would solve about 75 percent of your problems. But it was too late, for your heart already had a hundred thousand arrows lodged in with no way of taking them out, and every single one had Minho’s stupid name on them.

Your date ended earlier than expected which was a little after midnight when his friend San called him in some party-related emergency. Of course you understood, as you’ve experienced being that friend one too many times, and he bid you a farewell with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“I’d love that!” Though it probably wasn’t going to happen.

During the walk home, you took the time to reflect on everything that went wrong tonight. Fifteen minutes in, and you couldn’t figure out why your heart didn’t beat for Wooyoung. Passers-by gave you a strange look as you passed because of how your face twisted in confusion, but they went unnoticed because now you actually had to deal with your feelings for Minho straight on.

When did this all start exactly? Like when did the first arrow lodge itself in your right ventricle? Was it in middle school when he stopped those bullies? Was it during your last year in high school when he hugged you so tight, crying tears of joy when the team won the championship basketball game? Maybe it was during your first college party when he held your hair up while you puked into the toilet, but you knew there was no way this all happened because of one silly dream… Maybe your feelings were there all along.

The saying goes when it rains, it pours, right? Tonight, that phrase is both hypothetical and literal.

In a matter of seconds, the skies cried heavily with no thunder or lightning to be heard or seen. On this warm night alone, you were getting soaked to the bone with little-to-no-coverage. You didn’t pack an umbrella and for some reason, even the store awnings couldn’t give you shelter very well, so your only option was to take off your pretty much-ruined nice shoes and sprint home barefoot and that’s exactly what you did.

Minho liked the rain. It was calming, but only added to the lonely ambiance on this fine Friday evening. From inside, he watched the city glow different colors as the light reflected off of the rain droplets and this was when he thought the city looked the most beautiful. He could fall asleep at any moment just to the sound of the rain.

Minho’s apartment is so high up that it’s difficult to see the details in in peoples’ faces and clothes as they walked the streets, but it was easy to spot the little speck running towards his building a couple of blocks away. No one else for blocks on end could be seen other than the tiny speck running. He didn’t have to see your face to know that it was you running home because you didn’t have an umbrella. Not that he’s not happy to see you home, but why were you here so early? And alone, for that matter? Did that Wooyoung guy ditch you?

“Idiot,” Minho mumbled grumpily before grabbing his umbrella and making his way to you.

By the time he reached the lobby, he thought he’d see you inside by now, but that wasn’t the case and he was starting to get a little worried. He didn’t waste time running out the building and immediately he spotted you taking a breather under the big coffee shop awning. You’re completely soaked as if you took a dip in the ocean, strands of hair clinging to your rosy cheeks, and your shoes in your hand…? You’re barefoot, feet all cut up and a little bruised. Without looking at your face, a stranger could say that you were having a bad night, but even Minho knew that wasn’t exactly the case. You didn’t look disappointed or anything near that.

You must have enjoyed the date.

A huge shadow blocked the streetlight from your body and a pair of Minho’s beat up dance shoes are in your eyesight. Tiredly, but happily, you look up to a stern-faced crush who held an umbrella over his head.

“‘Sup,” you greeted casually.

“Let’s go, you’re gonna get sick,” he muttered.

Neither of you said a word until you reached your shared home, and Minho didn’t bother to give you a second glance until then, too. After carelessly tossing his umbrella near the pile of shoes, he found his spot on the couch again.

“You should shower.”

“Right…”

Still, he didn’t give you the time of day, and it hurts. From your cut-up feet to your pounding headache, everything just hurts, and your entire body was ready to crawl under your sheets and call it a night. But you obeyed, taking a long, hot shower to wash away all the wrongs that happened tonight.

When you were done, Minho had a first-aid kit ready in his hands. He didn’t seem as angry as earlier - now he just looked worried.

“Sit,” he commanded nicely.

Of course you obeyed like a misbehaved puppy walking to its cage. Nervously, you sat on the couch while Minho sat on the floor. Before you could ask what he was doing, he had already grabbed one foot to inspect for major cuts.

“You don’t need to do that - ah, hey!” The concerned boy wasn’t listening when he dabbed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant over a single super small cut on your foot… that was bleeding… a lot. “That stings, bro!”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now sit still.” He put a tiny bandaid over the clean cut and when he thought he was all finished, he held both of your ankles in his hand. “Why is one bigger than the other? Is it swollen?”

“I may have tripped once… or twice…”

An aggravated sigh left Minho’s pink lips before he grabs the bandage to wrap around your swollen ankle. After neatly wrapping around once, the rest of the wrapping was done by yanking the bandage until you felt the blood flow cut off at that point.

“Ow ow!! Chill, Minho, you’re hurting more than helping!”

After realizing what he’d been doing, Minho halted, muttering a soft ‘sorry’ before re-wrapping your ankle with more love and care.

“Why were you alone tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why wasn’t your date walking you home like he should? Doesn’t he know it’s common courtesy to do so?”

“Ah, well he had an emergency to attend to.”

“Still… He just left you to run home in the rain, and look what happened. Also, why the hell were your shoes off!?”

“I didn’t want to ruin them…”

The inside of his cheek was starting to numb from all the inherent chewing. At this point, Minho was tired, and you probably were, too. What was the point in arguing?

“Don’t date that guy,” he demanded.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be dating someone who leaves you in the middle of a date. Was it even a real emergency?”

“It was at the end of a date. But no, not a REAL real emergency…”

“Still, he left you, and look how you ended up.” Another sigh left his lips. “I don’t like him, _____.”

“I know.” When Minho finally looked up, he saw that you were smiling at him. You’re not angry or upset by the way he was acting, and he’s really surprised. What was going through your mind? “You don’t have to worry. I don’t think there’s going to be another date.”

Good. “How come?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that ‘I can’t wait to see you again’ type of feeling like I thought I would. I guess I wasn’t that into him.”

The shy boy below you cleared his throat hoping you wouldn’t see how relieved he was. “Oh, that’s good.”

“What happened to you wanting me to be happy with some guy?” you teased, lightly kicking his arm.

“I still do. Just not with him.”

“Mm. Maybe the next one will work out better.”

“Yeah… the next one.”

Minho finished wrapping up your ankle and went to stash the first aid kit in his room. You happily followed your confidant slash magical healer and he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hid his growing smile so you wouldn’t see.

“I had a weird dream last night,” you said after flopping on his king-sized mattress.

“Tell me about it.”

“You were in it as a Prince.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound so weird to me.”

“I was right beside you the whole time.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Minho hopped on right beside you and the two of you laid side-by-side as you told your fairytale. “Were you my Princess? My sidepiece mistress? The cook’s daughter I fell in love with? Oh, or were we betrothed to unite two kingdoms together?”

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“God is in the details, baby. What else happened?”

“That’s all I could remember. You were a Prince who smiled everyday and I was right there the whole time.”

“I probably smiled all the time ‘cuz you were next to me.”

To play it off as playful, the boy only a couple centimeters beside you nudged you several times. It was hard for him to keep up the facade when you said,

“I was probably next to you the whole time because of your smile.”

Now what was he to do? Subconsciously, Minho turned on his side to face you. With your cheeks and the tip of your nose a baby pink, you refused to look at him. Maybe you were getting sick.

“What, you like my smile, or something?”

“Have I ever told you it makes me feel safe?”

“Safe? Why?”

“It lets me know I have nothing to worry about - that I’m going to be just fine.”

The ceiling must have been very interesting. You have yet to look at him and though he wanted you to, he hopes you don’t, otherwise the magnetic pull between your lips might be too strong for him to resist. He wondered what you tasted like.

“I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

The world felt at peace again when he returned to his position on his back. As if the roof did not exist above, the two of you laid on his bed and pretended to count the stars. Minho’s hand blindly found its way to yours and the tiny bumps and touches of his fingertips made goosebumps travel up your arms. The handsome, confusing boy traced tiny stars in the back of your hand.

“Did you like your dream?” he finally asked.

“You mean did I like being stuck with you for eternity?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His shy giggle filled the empty spaces of his room, and yours soon followed.

“Neither would I.”

An eternity together wouldn’t be so bad.

The spot beside you on Minho’s bed felt empty. You must have knocked out the night before, too tired to crawl back to your cave of a room, and ended up sleeping next to him the whole night. Either last night’s date was exhausting or you didn’t want to leave Minho or his bed because you slept in so late that he had already got up for the day.

Changbin was eating cereal in front of the television when you finally left the room.

“Whoa, what the hell,” he smirked, not knowing that’s where you slept last night. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, idiot. We were talking and we fell asleep. Where is he, anyways?”

“Either at the gym or running errands or both.”

“Ah, ok…” If you knew Minho like you thought you did, then maybe he’s at the gym, but running errands? The hell kind of errands did he have? You were the one who ran all the house-related errands.

“You goin’ out tonight?”

“Can’t. Huge paper I have to work on.”

“C'mon, it’s Jeongin’s birthday! And Minho’s going ~”

Your cheeks burned from his teasing. “So? I’ll literally fail if I don’t get a good grade on this assignment.”

“Fine, you bookworm…”

So that’s what you did - you became a homebody for the day and hermitted in your room to work on that cursed paper. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was going out tonight with Minho. If you went, would you stick by his side the whole time? Would he drag you to the dance floor and hold you close? Would the alcohol take over and close the gap between your lips?

Let’s pretend the answer was yes to all of the above.

You didn’t see him for the entire day. Not for lunch, or dinner, or when he finally came home and hopped in the shower, or when he got ready in ten minutes, or even when he and Changbin left for the party. No texts or calls, either.

He was avoiding you at all costs.

Ugh, dammit, _____! Why did you sleep in his bed last night!? Ok, to be completely fair, he was sending you mixed signals that everything was fine, you know? He smiled after you told him how it made you feel safe, those little touches and whispers, literally agreeing to how life beside each other 'til you both grew old and wrinkly would be ideal… Why would you want to leave his side on the bed after all of that?

Boys were confusing, you knew that. Maybe you just misread the signs.

Minho felt like his heart was collapsing. Waking up beside you made this morning the best he’s ever had. You were so sleepy and so cute… All he wanted to do was press little kisses all on your forehead.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You just happened to fall asleep here with no real purpose. It’s not like he was going to wake you up and tell you to move? But did that make him selfish for wanting you to stay when you didn’t intend to? Maybe, so that’s why he had to slip out of the apartment before you woke up.

In the morning, he ran for a couple of hours. Then he went to lift weights. Then he ate and wasted time around town until it was time to get ready for Jeongin’s birthday. Nothing he did made it easier for him to forget about you and the night before. He’ll just use this opportunity of free booze to help him with that.

After successfully slipping in to get ready and out for a night of festivities, he thought that avoiding you for the whole day only made him miss you more.

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid tonight, are you?” Changbin asked.

“No promises.”

Well, no promises was right, because as soon as the two stepped into Chan’s place, Minho weaved his way through the crowd of strangers and went straight for the alcohol table. There, Chan was serving the jungle juice.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted them, but his grin dropped when he saw the distressed look on Minho’s face. “Yikes, rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Changbin answered for him while he chugged the sweet drink.

He held the solo cup out to his concerned friend. “More.”

“Uh-oh…” Chan didn’t disobey.

For a while, Minho was fine on his own while Changbin was off doing God knows what to some poor soul. He socialized here and there, greeted the totally incoherent birthday boy, and even flirted his way around for the sake of distraction. When something new didn’t seem to work, he’d down another shot, and by the time it was 2:00 am, Minho could barely stand on his own.

“Oh, son of a - are you kidding me!?” Changbin groaned after seeing his poor roommate passed out on Chan’s couch.

“Should I call an Uber…?” Jisung asked.

“Nah, I have a cheaper solution.”

At 2:03 am, while you were munching on some chips and crying to some Miyazaki movie, Changbin’s name lit up your phone.

“Yo.”

“How much do you love your roommates?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four and a half.”

“Can you cash in that four and a half and pick us up from Chan’s place ~?” the whiny boy begged. “Minho is being insufferable! He keeps drinking everything in site!”

That did not sound good… Minho got very, uh, unbearable when he wasn’t himself. You felt your headache come back and your blood pressure fly through the roof.

“But I don’t have a car.”

“The keys to the Audi are hanging by the door.”

“What the - he has a car!?”

“No, his uncle has a car. Just don’t tell him we’re using it. Hurry, before he gets outta hand - NO, DON’T LET HIM DRINK THAT -!!”

The line cut out and the dial tone rang in your ears for a solid five seconds before you could process what Changbin was asking of you. So you were supposed to grab the keys to an expensive Audi, drive to Chan’s house, pick up your incompetent roommates, and somehow end up back home alive? Well, all right…

The key to the car wasn’t actually a key… It was just a remote. The car was hidden in the corner of the underground garage and if you weren’t being careful, someone could honestly kidnap you at any moment and no trace of the kidnapping would be seen. The Audi was very beautiful, all white and shiny like it was brand new. The interior was pitch black with red stitching, tons of fancy buttons normal cars didn’t really have, and a button for the ignition. You prayed to whatever Lord was listening that it was Automatic because you had zero idea how to handle Manual.

The drive wasn’t that far, but it was far for a walk, so no wonder Changbin called you for assistance. After texting him that his personal, beautiful Uber driver had arrived, you were left with your erratic thoughts about how you were going to handle seeing Minho for the first time since last night. Would it be awkward? Maybe on your end because you were sober enough to remember everything, but maybe his drunken state would ease up the atmosphere.

Your love life sucked. Your crushes never worked out in the end, your first date ended up mediocre, and now you fell for your best friend. You were in denial for the most part, thinking that maybe this was just a coping mechanism for all your failures and that Minho was the only real man to ever care about you, so of course you fell for someone like him. But that wasn’t it, was it? Minho wasn’t made to be your security blanket when all else failed. Maybe all else failed because he was the one all along. Fate always had a weird way of playing with you.

A loud thump in the back seat shook you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, he’s very heavy and I got tired,” Changbin said as he sat in the front seat.

Looking back, you saw a passed out Minho curled up on the seats.

“Jeez, that kind of night, huh?” Did you do that to him…? Was this because of last night…?

“Yeah… you wouldn’t believe the shit he was saying -”

“_____, is that you?” he asked cutely.

“Hey there,” you giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“I miss you ~”

“Huh?”

“Bro, he would not shut up the entire night! _____ this, _____ that, I was honestly so happy that he passed out on the couch because for those ten minutes, I could hear my own thoughts again. Can you two figure out whatever sexual tension you guys are having -”

“Changbin!”

“What!? I’m tired of living with you two!”

“Move out then!”

“No way, I was there first!!”

“Stop yelling,” the poor, drunk boy whined, moving up so his face was in between yours and a pouty Changbin. Minho turned to you all giggly and smiley like a kid in a candy shop and poked your cheek. “I miss you ~”

Of course you did, too. “I miss you, too, dork.”

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home, I’m sleepy.” And he was out like a light once more.

“What the hell…”

“Chan’s jungle juice, man. It’s magical,” Changbin tisked.

It took two small adults to carry one Minho all the way from the parking lot, to the lobby, to the elevator, and then finally to the door. You’d think with all the working out Changbin did that he could handle the unconscious boy all on his own, but Minho was very muscley… A lot more than you remembered. From supporting his back and abs and having his arm around your shoulder, you could feel every crevice of his taut muscles that you should definitely not be thinking about at a time like this. He was fine to support himself by the time the door opened, and Changbin happily let go of him to go to the bathroom, something about ‘needing to piss really bad.’

Before you could fathom that you were left alone with a loosey goosey Minho, he had already grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t escape, but it wasn’t like you were going to, anyways. With his cheek resting on your forehead, you felt safe.

“I miss you ~” he repeated in his sing-songy voice.

“What are you doing?” you muffled into his chest.

“Showing and telling you how much I love you.”

“Wait, what -”

“In fact, let me show and tell the whole world!”

How Minho was able to run to the balcony and not trip and fall flat on his face was a mystery to you. The weird boy literally swung open the door and breathed in the fresh air before screaming into the night,

“I LOVE _____!”

Still inside, feet glued to where Minho first told you he sincerely loves you, you were shocked as the man you loved screamed at the top of his lungs to the city below.

“I LOVE YOU ~!” he screamed once more.

“Oh, my God.”

You sighed tiredly, though your growing smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Reluctantly, you made your way to the balcony to bring in the boy you loved before he lost his voice. After screaming a couple more times, he tuckered himself out and leaned over the edge of the railing.

“You’re going to fall!” you lectured, pulling him back up. That was a bit of a mistake on your end though, because now he used you as his means of support and coddled you tightly like you were his own personal teddy bear.

“I love you, _____,” he said perfectly like there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in his system.

“Minho, you’re drunk.”

He held you tighter. “Do you wanna hear a story? It’s called ‘The Day I Fell for You’.”

“Ok. Tell me all about it.”

“You were in art class and it was the pottery unit. You absolutely hated the mug you made, but I loved it. I told you to submit it for the art exhibit anyways. The following week at exhibition night, you won second place for the best pottery piece. When you went up to get your ribbon in front of all our other classmates and their parents, you only looked at me. You had the brightest smile on your face, and when I gave you a thumbs up, you glowed even brighter. I didn’t think that was even possible. Then when the awards were over, you ran up to me and hugged me so tight. Just like this. And my heart was beating so fast! Just like now, too. I never wanted to let you go, you know? And then when you let me keep your mug, it was all over from there.”

Ah, you remember that story perfectly, even if it was so long ago. Minho made you feel like you could fly without wings.

He hummed happily, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. “It’s my favorite mug. I drink coffee out of it every morning.”

“I know, I’m the one who washes it…”

“_____, what do I do ~?” He broke the hug and the heart-wrenching moment to hold your face and squish your cheeks so hard your lips would pout. “What do I do ~? I love you and I want to kiss you so badly!”

“Eh!?”

“Just one kiss,” he begged, puckering his lips playfully.

“Ah, no, you weirdo!” you giggled, but you weren’t even fighting back.

“Just one, I promise.”

Before you could fake-object, his lips barely touched yours for a split second. They were soft, sent goosebumps all over your skin, and made sparks fly.

He giggled softly before leaning in again. “Ok, one more.”

“You said just one!”

“I got a taste and now I want more. This is your fault.”

“You sound like an addict.”

“Only for you, baby.”

So he kissed you once more. And again. And again. And then again for the tenth time. The eleventh time he made the kiss last a little longer. The fifteenth time was a kiss on your nose. The sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth were for your cheeks twice. The twentieth and the last was on your forehead, making your heart flutter like a little hummingbird.

"You taste like punch and tequila,” you gagged.

“Do you like it ~?”

“No!”

“Do you like me ~?”

“Only sometimes. But I guess I love you all other times. Luckily, you probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

There’s a short silence afterwards, only the sounds of the wind blowing could be heard as Minho continued to hold you. “Loving me means you can’t get mad at me, right?”

“It means I’ll probably get mad at you more frequently. Why, what did you do…?”

“Nothing, I swear! I’m just… not as drunk as you think I am anymore…”

“Ah, so you’ll remember this in the morning…”

“Absolutely. If you rejected my screaming confession though, I would have still pretended to be drunk. Isn’t my plan so smart? I’m a genius, bro.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say genius,” you teased.

“Whatever, you admitted you love me, that’s all that matters.”

“I only said it 'cuz you said it first. If you didn’t, I would have kept it to myself.”

“But why ~?”

“You left me this morning. I thought telling you my dream was a huge mistake and I scared you away.”

Your loving boy pressed a twenty-first kiss to your forehead. “I was scared, but not because of that. I was scared you would leave everything at that and wouldn’t think of me as anything but a friend.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m an emotional man, ok.”

“I know ~” you sighed happily. The night air was crisp and cool, but Minho kept you warm, as he always did. He was always there whenever you need him. “I love you, you know that?”

Minho took a long and dramatic breath in, pressing his expanding chest to yours and you kind of regret tell him you love him because from the top of his lungs, he screamed,

“I LOVE YOU!!”

“Minho, shut up!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, _____!!”

The rest of the night until the following morning was spent with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around you. The only time he ever let you go was when you burned the pancakes and needed his help making more.

Minho, the dorky, annoying, loving, sweet, dumbass of a friend was now YOUR dorky, annoying, loving, sweet dumbass.

He wasn’t so bad.

[danidoesathing]

ok! i’ve got the beginning and end written, it’s the middle that i need to write still, and it’s disgustingly sweet (i’ll post it to ao3 when i’ve got it finished bc i refuse to upload an unfinished work). also lemme know if you wanna read the ending as well, i wasn’t sure (it, too, is fluffy to hell and back)

Chapter 1:

Tim hated this. He hated it all. He’d rather be anywhere else in the world if he could, he could’ve been at home in his room with his laptop and Jay to talk to, but instead he was here with his mom who thought that she had any right to his life after leaving it for good (when he was twelve years old in a mental hospital too, who did that to their child?) and apparently forgot why she did, since she wouldn’t shut up. He’d had enough by the third hour of the “vacation” she took him to, and maybe if he hadn’t hated pity as much as he did, especially from the one that caused him to be pitied, he would have enjoyed the five-star hotel stay more, rather than feel like he was stuck in one long panic attack. He had managed to get away, though. He excused himself to the bathroom and felt grateful she had allowed him that much. He didn’t pay too much attention to the walk to the bathroom - he was trying to breathe in and out regularly and count to ten and pay attention to what he felt and all the other coping methods they taught him in the ten years he spent in the psych ward. He only realized there was someone else in the bathroom when the person (Tim assumed they were male, this was the men’s bathroom) sighed and firmly said, “I need more time, you can’t just ruin my entire life to gain a few weeks.” 

Brian had really been looking forward to the week he’d spend on his own - privacy and being alone weren’t really concepts that his family understood, and it had only gotten worse when the marriage proposal came. He’d tried to explain countless times that he was gay and that he would rather marry a frog than the fake, manipulative, entitled, rude, homophobic, racist, bitchy, but most importantly rich girl his parents had chosen for him to marry. As if he’d spend more than a minute within a five-mile radius of the piece of shit who wanted his money and his name, nothing else. When the call from his mother (Brian had stopped calling Carol Thomas his mom years ago, when she first started denying his issues and instead punished him for things he couldn’t control) came, he escaped to the bathroom since it was closer than his room, even though it was a lot less private. He didn’t think anything would go wrong, it wasn’t busy at the restaurant and even if someone entered, they would probably leave him alone to suffer in his misery. 

Brian hadn’t noticed the tired man who slunk into the bathroom at first, but when he saw the defeated slump of his shoulders and how utterly exhausted his eyes looked, his mother demanded that he come home the next day. He was pretty sure that everyone within the state could hear his sigh, and he thought about how he had gotten so sick of his own family that this was the case with every conversation he had with them. After his final compromise, he hung up without saying goodbye or waiting for Carol to respond. He knew what she would have said anyway, was far too familiar with the same conversation.

Tim hesitated, trying to figure out what to do - he couldn’t just leave and pretend he’d heard nothing, but he didn’t know this man, like, at all, so he also couldn’t try to comfort him or ask him what was wrong, because something clearly was. 

“Family problems,” Brian said into the silence, which was probably just a few seconds long but to Tim’s anxiety-ridden mind it was a lifetime of waiting. 

Tim smiled slightly. “I’m familiar.” 

Brian made an interested noise.  “You tell me about your life, and I tell you ‘bout mine, alright?” 

He understood what sort of deal this was, he was used to therapists and doctors and psychiatrists trying to take his brain apart and figure out what was wrong with him, to try to fix him (or that’s what they said, but he wasn’t sure there weren’t any other reasons behind their words). He despised being treated like a wild animal who could lose his mind and attack at any moment, with a single wrong move. They had treated him like he was dangerous and they pitied him for it, but Brian, he hadn’t looked scared of Tim. He hadn’t acted like he was trying to play it safe - rather, he had tried to make Tim feel comfortable by making himself as vulnerable as Tim was. He realized that he didn’t want to strangle Brian. I’ve spent so much time with psychologists that I’ve started acting like one, analyzing everything and everyone’s actions. Tim laughed internally at the thought. 

“Sure. I don’t have anything else to do anyway,” He responded, and told Brian about his current predicament with his mother, leaving out the parts in which he was at the hospital - he just said that he had a chronic illness and his mom had left him at 12 when he had been in the hospital for four years. 

“Shit, dude, that really sucks. She doesn’t have any right to your life now, you know that right?” Brian said at the end of Tim’s story, after a short pause to take it all in. “I’m going to sound like a whiny white asshole with my story now,” he added. Tim shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. After all, my life doesn’t invalidate yours,” he said, and the corners of Brian’s mouth twitched up. “I guess you’re right,” he said, and started explaining how his parents wanted him to marry a rich woman high up the ladder of status in the elite community he was born into, and Tim could feel himself tensing up and his mind starting to buzz. 

Brian noticed that the man in front of him was looking a little off, and stopped midway through describing that he only had the next week or so to find his soulmate, otherwise he’d be stuck with someone he hated for the rest of his life. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly, and the other man (Brian only just realized that he knew this man’s life story but not his name, and mentally reprimanded himself for not introducing himself and asking his name) took a shuddering breath. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, and Brian didn’t call him out on his bullshit. “Please continue, I’m way too invested in your life now.” He smiled, and Brian laughed. 

“Alright, but first, you have to tell me your name because I’ve realized we haven’t introduced ourselves and it’s killing me,” Brian said.

“My name’s Tim Wright.”

“Brian Thomas. Nice to meet you, I guess,” Tim rolled his eyes at Brian’s antics, but Brian knew he was amused, as evidenced by Tim’s light snort. Tim told him to get on with the story, (a bit like a whining child, but in a good way, Brian thought) and he responded with, “Okay, okay, I’ll get to it then.”

“There isn’t much left,” Brian warned. When Tim nodded his understanding, he continued from where he had stopped, and when he had finished talking about his current fucked-up situation, the other man had been shocked into silence. 

“You have to be kidding me,” he finally said. “There’s no way that that shit’s real and actually happening to you.” 

Brian shook his head and sighed. “I wish I was, but nope! My parents are just assholes who are outta their minds.” 

Tim thought for a second - he had to do something, but he didn’t know what he could to be able to help. He chewed on his lip, and after a minute or so, had an idea that he thought could possibly work. 

“How about we pretend that we’re soulmates?” he asked Brian, who looked taken aback but also as if he was considering Tim’s proposition. Tim was about to backtrack and apologize, maybe say something along the lines of or we can just not do that if you don’t want to I’m sorry for bringing it up you must think I’m so creepy and weird and can we just ignore this ever happened?  

But then Brian nodded thoughtfully, and said, “Actually, I can imagine how that would work. I’d call my parents and tell them that I’ve already found my soulmate and that I want to spend more time with you, and you’d talk to them in order to convince them further if they don’t believe me. I already know I’m gay, so my soulmate is definitely a man, so your voice being a guy’s wouldn’t be a problem and when I find my actual soulmate, if they sound different to you, we could just blame it on the phone being weird through the call. We could say that we wanna spend a few weeks getting to know each other before I leave, and during that time I could find my real soulmate. If I can’t, then we can come up with scenarios in which I’d need to stay longer until I do. Yeah, actually, this is a really good idea, Tim.” 

“Uh, really? I mean, thanks,” Tim said, still reeling from Brian’s rambling. “How are we going to do this? Do you like, I don’t know, wanna call your parents and I can talk to them?”

“Yeah, sure, give me a sec,” Brian fished in his pocket for his phone and Tim internally panicked while Brian called his mother. He would have had a panic attack, but before he could truly get worked up, Brian was already talking. 

“Hey mother, guess what happened - no, you’ll never guess - I found my soulmate! And he’s a guy like I said he would be! Oh, you don’t want my soulmate to be a man? Well, unfortunately, apparently the universe doesn’t share your homophobic views - oh come on, would I lie about this? You don’t believe me? Fine, I guess I’ll have to prove it. Mother, meet Tim.”

“Hello Mrs. Thomas, it’s nice to meet you,” Tim said, and Brian couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and he didn’t want Tim to be there for it. He hated his parents, and the thought of them hurting Tim in any way was unbearable. Wait, what? I met him like 15 minutes ago, why do I care so much about him? He was going to figure out his feelings regarding Tim, but then he saw how he was getting anxious, so he decided to intervene now and unpack his shit later. 

Grabbing the phone from Tim, he told his parents that he and Tim wanted to get to know each other by staying at the hotel for longer, and when they objected, he simply reminded them that he was his own person and as an adult, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, slowly getting more pissed off with every word that his parents said. Knowing that he would snap if he listened to more of their bullshit, he hung up after letting them know he would stay for a few more weeks in Ohio, though probably in a motel (he wasn’t rich enough to spend weeks at a five-star hotel). He looked at Tim. “Are you okay? You looked pretty freaked out there, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put that much pressure on-”

“No, no, you’re fine. I guess I just felt overwhelmed, sort of? I don’t really know why I felt so anxious, but I’ve been dealing with anxiety for, like, 16 years. I should be used to it by now,“ Tim assured Brian. "Plus, it worked, didn’t it? they weren’t happy, but they seem to have believed us, so you can stay for a few more weeks and try to find your soulmate. Actually, why are you searching in Ohio and not Alabama anyway? Aside from the obvious reason, of course.” he added. 

Brian frowned. “I don’t really know, I guess this just felt closer to my soulmate. You know how your mark is supposed to like, tingle and shit?” Tim nodded, and Brian continued. “Yeah, I guess that’s why - Ohio feels like I’m closer to finding them than in Alabama." 

"Yeah, I think I get it. It feels the same for me too, if I think about it - my mark feels weird and that’s never happened before, so I must be doing something right,” Tim said after thinking for a while, and Brian laughed.

“Hey, who knows, maybe we’ll find our soulmates in here, and maybe we’ll find them at around the same time - that would be so cool! You know, I think I rather like you, Tim. I’d like to be friends - if you wanna, of course,” Brian said, and Tim answered with an affirmative. 

“Well, you’re pretty cool yourself Brian Thomas, and I would indeed like to be friends, but I really gotta go. Emily’s probably going out of her mind, wondering where her son she found after 12 years went to,” Tim joked, and they exchanged numbers. 

“ So, I still have a week or so left, which means I’ll probably see you around the hotel and shit. Bye Tim,” Brian called as he left the bathroom, and Tim waved back before following.

  Chapter 2:

Brian walked back to his room, since he had already finished his dinner, and contemplated the last hour. He had gone from having to fight his parents for less than a week to find his soulmate to being given permission (well, sort of. Brian thought it counted if they had always encouraged him to do something until it actually got to the point in which said thing would be applicable - they couldn’t just change their minds because they were homophobic assholes) for almost a month doing whatever he wanted wherever he wanted to. 

Of course, there was also Tim. He didn’t quite understand why he liked Tim already, or why Tim had helped him, but he knew that he didn’t regret it at all. Plus, they were friends now, and he felt that they would only get closer with time. He’d arrived at his room by this point, and after entering, he decided that he wouldn’t get anything else done today. Within minutes he was in bed - no point pretending to be functional when there was nobody around to see it, and plus, he was very sleep-deprived and he should probably go to sleep to fix that. 

Since he’d been lying still with his eyes closed for over an hour, Brian believed that he was justified in going on his phone. However, once he opened his phone, he realized that he didn’t really have anything to do, and in a moment of boredom and apathy for his future, he decided to text Tim.

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: Hey tim

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: it’s me brian

  savingprivatebrian [23:42]: if you couldn’t tell

  He was surprised to see that Tim was online, and soon enough, he saw Tim’s typing bubble pop up.

  Tim [23:44]: yeah 

Tim [23:44]: i saved your number

  Tim [23:44]: anyway whats up

  Brian smiled because of course Tim was awake, he totally seemed like the type of person who’s constantly tired and sleep-deprived.

  savingprivatebrian [23:44]: nothing

  savingprivatebrian [23:45]: i just couldnt sleep

  Tim [23:45]: i get that

Tim [23:46]: insomnias a bitch

  savingprivatebrian [23:46]: yep

savingprivatebrian [23:47]: so do you wanna just talk until we can sleep

  Tim [23:47]: please

He laughed at Tim’s response, and settled comfortably into his nest of pillows (perks of five-star hotels) to talk to Tim.

In the end, they both agreed to go to sleep at around 3:30 in the morning, after having texted for almost four hours. If he wasn’t so sleepy, he might’ve wondered why conversation was so easy when he was talking to Tim when he normally wouldn’t be able to even form sentences with people he knew as little as he knew Tim. Instead, though, he placed his phone on the bedside drawer, rolled over, and fell asleep within minutes, still with a little smile playing on his lips.

  Chapter 3:

  A week later, Tim’s mother left to go back to work, and Tim promised her that he’d come to visit every now and then. He was surprised to find that he was planning to keep that promise - after his mom explained her reasons, he learned that she hadn’t left because she wanted to, only because she had to. Her life had been easier without him, and that realization hurt. He had held her back her entire life, and he really couldn’t blame her for having done whatever she could to get rid of the reason she couldn’t be happy. He was over it, though. He had had more than a decade to come to terms with the fact that everyone he cared about would leave him eventually, when they realized that he would always be problematic, that he would never get better, and that he would always drag them down. Why would anyone stay with that?

Then came was Brian. Tim knew that he was falling, falling hard, but he also knew that Brian didn’t feel the same - they both wanted to find their soulmates, and even if Brian did like someone as fucked up as Tim, when he found his soulmate, he’d just leave. 

He had told Brian about his mom and how he felt, as well as why he was in a hospital for 10 years, and Brian’s only reaction was to hug him (they didn’t notice that no parts of their skin had made contact, Tim would later realize) and telling him that he’d never leave. That was a bigger deal than Brian realized, and he had broken down crying, which caused Brian to start crying too. They had spent about 2 hours talking about their problems, and Tim left Brian’s room feeling better than he had for over a month. They had only been friends for a few days at that point, but there was no denying that they had a connection - they were already so, so close (and if Tim wanted them to be even closer, well, no-one had to know). 

Jay had called, on the second day. He had asked what was going on and why the hell Tim hadn’t texted or called him - rightfully so, since they usually talked daily and it had been more than 2 days with nothing. Tim had ranted about Brian and his mom, but it had taken Jay about ten minutes into Tim’s monologue to point out that he was totally crushing on Brian, and Tim had found himself unable to argue. After talking for over an hour, Jay had hung up with a threat to Tim if he didn’t text him everything that happened. 

Tim thought back to that conversation many times over the following days - he could trust Jay to call him out on his bullshit and help him work through it, and he knew Jay could do the same. Whenever his anxiety convinced him that they simply tolerated his presence and actually hated him, Tim would text Jay (and now Brian) and Jay would not stop texting him until Tim had no doubt left about their friendship.

On his last day in the hotel, a week after he arrived and met Brian, he had breakfast with Brian to talk about what they were going to do, since this was Brian’s last day too. 

“Over here,” Brian called out as Tim walked into the restaurant in the hotel, from which they got free breakfast. 

“Hey,” Tim said when he sat down. “You wanna go get some food? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sure. Just a second,” Brian put his stuff on the extra chair, and connected his phone to a charger. “My battery’s at 12 percent,” he explained at Tim’s questioning look.

“Alright, let’s go. What do you wanna get?” Brian asked when they entered the self-service area.

“Eggs and bacon first, so they cook, but I’ll look around anyway to see what’s there,” Tim answered while grabbing a plate.

“Why didn’t you get a fork and knife too?”

“Because I’ll drop them, Brian.” 

“Ha, weak.”

“Do you really want to try me?” 

“Geez, you’re just so scary.”

“I know.” 

They had reached the omelette station, and they waited for their orders to be cooked in comfortable silence, which was new to both of them. Shaking his head, Tim decided to ignore his lack of friends while he was so happy and had the chance to spend time with someone who not only could tolerate him, but also wanted to befriend him. 

He was brought back to reality by Brian nudging him, and snapped his eyes onto Brian in alarm, quickly realizing there was no threat, there was just his food (paranoia had become a reflex at this point, and he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to laugh or cry because of it). 

Throughout breakfast, Tim found his eyes lingering more and more on Brian’s lips when all social and conversational norms stated that his gaze should be on his eyes or overall figure to watch his body language and hand gestures, so like everyone else who’s ever been in this situation, he decided, okay, we’re going to put these feelings of attraction in a box, now close it, and yep! Push it as far away from coherent thought as you can, right up against the childhood trauma, self-hatred, insecurity, and look! It’s the box of fear of abandonment. Now, we don’t think about these, so surely this’ll be safe here. After cataloging everything into the dark basement of his mind, buried deep under everything else and covered in the mental equivalent of cobwebs and a layer of dust over everything, he simply looked away from Brian’s mouth and focused on literally any other part of his body, like, like- his eyes! That would surely work, wouldn’t it? You can’t possibly mess eye contact up, even though you’re, well, you, Tim. Don’t fuck this up with your social incompetence.

Yeah, no. After only a few minutes of trying to draw his attention away from what Brian would taste like, he found out that eyes are just as dangerous as lips, since he found that it was easier than it should be to get lost in Brian’s warm hazel eyes. He never realized that there were rings of different colours, and with the light framing his face, he looked otherworldly, like he didn’t belong to planet Earth or at least had some kind of magic coursing through his veins, just like warmth was coursing through Tim’s as he drowned in the ocean of brown and green filling Brian’s eye sockets. Because he was drowning, drowning, drowning as he forgot to breathe, move, do anything at all in the haze that came over him.

-------------------------------

[imaginethathaikyuu]

Hi I’ve been reading your scenarios and I couldn’t help but see what your take on a soulmate AU for oikawa would look like (of course if it is ok with you). I really love your writing!

okay i dont even know what happened nor do i know how the fuck this got so long, i just got carried away. i told myself i didnt like soulmate au’s all that much and then i wrote one that was ten pages long. anyway, this is my take on a soulmate au. thank you for the kind words and for the request!▻fem reader

word count: 2424

Everyone wanted to be Oikawa Tooru’s soulmate. Everyone - the literal sense of the word.

Boys, girls, and everything in between or outside of the two. At least one person a day would come up to him and ask that fated question: “Can I see your tattoo?”

And Oikawa gets it, he does - having him for his soulmate would be a ticket to the top of high school’s social hierarchy. He’s not even being egotistical; it’s just the truth. Everyone knows that the person destined to be with Oikawa not only got to be with the attractive boy forever, but they also got eternal bragging rights. At times, it seemed that pride mattered more to those around him than actually finding their soulmate.

It was that reason that Oikawa never showed anyone his tattoo; not even his best of friends had seen it. And it’s not that he doesn’t, technically, want to find his soulmate - he does. Oikawa yearns to hold someone close, kiss their lips until he’s seeing stars, tell them how much he loves them - he wants to find the person who has the perfect match of his tattoo so badly.

But he knows it isn’t worth it. He’s not going to go around showing off his tattoo to everyone who asks, only to find his match and realize all they want him for is an accessory.

“My soulmate is a volleyball genius!”

“My soulmate is going to go pro one day! We’ll be rich!”

“My soulmate is the hottest guy in school!”

Those phrases and many like it bounce around in his mind any time he sees someone who he may enjoy looking at for the rest of his life. Being with someone who refers to him as their soulmate rather than their boyfriend was one of his greatest fears.

So instead of letting himself be excited at the prospect of finding his soulmate - like most others are - he forced himself to forget about the entire thing. To him, it was as if soulmates don’t even exist. The tattoo on his upper-inner arm was more like a birthmark rather than an indication of eternal love. He never looked for his soulmate, he isn’t suspicious of everyone he meets, he never even engages the idea. And that’s how he likes it.

If Oikawa never finds his soulmate, fine by him.

It was because of his attitude that he was able to go about his day normally. He was able to focus in class. He was able to have the best practice he could every single day. He was able to sit where he is now - in the lunchroom with you - and enjoy his lunch with his friend and with peace of mind.

Until that infamous question was asked again - by someone standing behind him.

“Oikawa, let me see your tattoo! I want to see if we match!”

Fuck off, he wanted to say, but he’d never allow himself to be so rude. He thought about what would happen if this random girl was his soulmate - would the universe be so cruel as to give him a soulmate who doesn’t even respect him enough to look him in the eye before speaking to him?

In the time he spent lost in thought, you spoke up for Oikawa. “Fuck off,” you said with your mouth half full, “maybe if you were more respectful, he’d show it to you. Go away.”

He heard the footsteps of the girl leaving, and that along with your frustrated face caused him to smile. You had nearly read his mind - he appreciated that about you.

“Thank you,” Oikawa said with a sigh. You gave a hum in response as you continued to eat your lunch, unaffected by the mini confrontation you just had.

After a beat of silence, Oikawa spoke again. “Y/N, it’s too hot.”

“Duh, it’s nearly summer,” you replied, fanning yourself with your hand.

“Wanna have a pool party?”

“Yes, please,” you said. “Who else is invited?”

“Iwa-chan, but he already declined,” Oikawa said. “Just me and you.”

“Perfect.”

“Come over after school, then.”

Thanks to the plans awaiting him, the rest of the school day felt neverending. Luckily for Oikawa it was Monday, meaning no practice - and while he should at least work out, he’d be damned if he put any more time between him and his pool.

He had already been swimming for at least ten minutes by the time you got to his house. When you walked through the gate you saw him in the pool, floating lazily about the water on top of a large, bright green inflatable ring.

He looked so relaxed that it made you genuinely envious, and you couldn’t wait to be floating next to him.

That’s where you were after a few minutes - both of you were laid back, quietly soaking up the sun as if you had no worries in the world.

Except, Oikawa had just one worry.

He kept looking over at you, trying his best to ensure that you weren’t looking at him. As far as he could tell, you weren’t, but he knew you could be sneaky.

He had become undyingly aware of his soulmate tattoo from the moment you stepped foot into the pool - and he had completely forgotten that this would be an issue for him.

You were one of the people he trusted most, so it’s not like it’d be the end of the world for you to see his tattoo. But all of his bad experiences - especially those he’s had while swimming - keep his anxiety at the forefront of his mind.

After three years of friendship, neither of you had seen the other’s tattoos. You had never even asked to see his - you didn’t care about that at all. That’s something he loved about you, it’s what made him keep you so close.

But Oikawa could not stop thinking about all of the times people had fooled him into showing them his tattoo. That’s usually why he swam with a shirt on, or at least something covering his arm, but today he had completely forgotten.

“Stop looking at me.”

“Sorry.”

You laughed a bit and ran your hand through your sopping wet hair. The wind was blowing, you could hear the sound of children laughing and playing a little bit down the street, and you had never been so relaxed - until you were splashed in the face by a large wave of water.

“What the fuck, Tooru?!” you yelled, thinking he had rudely splashed you. After wiping your eyes you looked over to see that wasn’t the case, instead he had fell off of his float and into the pool. You groaned, wiping the rest of the water off of your face before closing your eyes, trying to find your relaxed state again.

Oikawa was fucked.

What do I do. What do I say. How do I speak.

These are all the thoughts he had while under water. He wasn’t moving his limbs, he was just sitting under - for as long as he possibly could.

He needed air, but his need to avoid his issues mattered more.

Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I saw it wrong. That’s it - that’s definitely it. The heat it getting to my head.

After one more second of being alone, he stood up, reminding himself that he’s not thinking straight and that he should go inside before it gets worse.

Oikawa wiped his eyes and turned around to tell you he was done for the day. You were holding your hand up over your eyes to block the sun and get a good look at him, and he saw it again.

You were going to ask if he’s okay, but he cut you off. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

He watched your brows furrow. “The hell is your problem?”

He had to get out. He had to get away. He needed to talk to someone about this.

Except he couldn’t, because the person he always goes to for advice just so happens to be his fucking soulmate.

“Your - your tattoo.”  

God, he sounded pathetic.

Your eyes darted to your inner arm where your tattoo is, and you snorted. “Oh, yeah. I forgot you hadn’t seen it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He was out of breath. He felt teary eyed. This entire day was fucked. He had spent all this time avoiding and hating soulmates all together that he couldn’t even be happy that he found his.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but Oikawa didn’t seem like he was dying, so you weren’t too worried.

“What about my tattoo?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

Without looking at you he said, “I’ve got the same one.”

“Cool.”

His head snapped to your direction, his eyes wide - did you even care?

“What do you mean ‘cool’?”

“You don’t think it’s cool?” you asked, glancing at him.

“I don’t know, I - I need to go.” He had already been on his way to the pool’s steps by the time he finally choked out the words.

“I’m staying until sunset,” you called to him, closing your eyes and resting your head on the float. Oikawa didn’t respond.

He grabbed his towel before walking inside, dripping water on the floor but paying no mind to it. After grabbing his cell phone and clothes from his room, he went straight to the bathroom.

His face looked rough in the mirror. His eyes were red - from the pool water, but he wouldn’t doubt the tears he nearly shed contributed to the redness a bit.

This was all his fault for inviting you over to swim without even thinking - but he was trying to think of anyone else to blame.

You, for having the tattoo.

The universe for giving it to you.

Iwaizumi, for denying his invitation to swim with him.

Speaking of Iwaizumi, that’s who he was currently trying to get ahold of, but the bastard wouldn’t answer his phone.

This is definitely the universe’s fault.

It took no time for him to change into dry clothes - calling Iwaizumi three times in the process - before he went back to his bedroom.

He debated taking a nap to just check out for awhile, but that decision was made for him when his phone started ringing.

“What the fuck do you want?” he heard through the speaker as soon as he answered, “you woke me up -”

“I’m having an emergency,Y/N is my soulmate, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Where is she right now?”

“In my pool.”

“Where are you?”

“In my room.”

“You idiot.”

Oikawa gasped. “How am I an idiot?”

“You’ve finally found your soulmate - who’s hot as fuck, by the way - and instead of taking her to your bedroom, you run away from her. You’re the definition of an idiot.”

Oikawa wanted to scream - at Iwaizumi, at the world, at the universe. He doesn’t want a soulmate. You would understand him better than Iwaizumi, if only he could actually talk to you.

“She’s your soulmate for a reason, don’t be a moron and fuck up what the universe has laid out perfectly for you. Knowing Y/N, she probably doesn’t give two shits about being the Great Oikawa’s soulmate. You have nothing to worry about, dipshit.”

That’s when Oikawa heard the glass door slide open, followed by the call of his name. He quickly told Iwaizumi he had to go before rolling over onto his stomach, hiding his face in his pillow.

This is all too scary for him.

“Tooru,” you called again, going straight to his bedroom where you knew he’d be. “I forgot a change of clothes, can I borrow something?”

All Oikawa could bring himself to do was point at his drawer, which you ruffled through to find sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“It’s alright if I change in here, right? Since we’re soulmates and all?”

“No!” Oikawa said loudly into his pillow, the thought of you being naked in his room haunting his mind and his body.

You laughed all the way to the bathroom, and Oikawa wanted to take this chance to run away, but he couldn’t make himself move.

Your mood had shifted when you returned to his room. Honestly, you weren’t surprised that Oikawa is your soulmate - after all, you had never gotten along with anyone better than you had with him. But just like him, the idea of soulmates never quite mattered to you; you’d spent years watching your peers obsessing over them, making themselves upset over not having their soulmate yet, and you could never let yourself go down that rabbit hole.

Oikawa, on the other hand - you knew how he felt about the whole thing.

You laid down next to him, laying on your back and looking up at the ceiling.

“You okay?” you asked, combing your fingers through your tangled, wet hair. Oikawa didn’t respond. “Come on, Tooru, I know having me as your soulmate isn’t ideal, but it’s not the end of the world is it?”

You were party joking - but you were worried at the reaction he was having to this.

He turned his head and looked at you, and you looked at him. “Shut up.”

So, you shut up until Oikawa decided he wanted to talk to you. And it didn’t take long - he couldn’t handle being left in silence for too long. He rolled over onto his side, facing you. “Can I see it again?”

“Hypocrite,” you whispered as you lifted your left arm, pulling up your sleeve so your tattoo was visible. “I want to see yours, too, I need some proof that you’re actually my soulmate.”

Tooru pulled up the sleeve on his right arm, moving so his tattoo was visible. You rolled over to face him, getting a better look at it.

A circle with a smaller circle inside of it and a pair of crossed lines on top of them. A perfect match for yours.

“It’s weird seeing it on someone else,” you said, reaching out and running a finger over his skin.

“No kidding,” Oikawa scoffed. You couldn’t help but smile at him, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

“We’re soulmates,” you cooed, wanting to wrap him up in your arms - but that could wait. You did have forever, afterall.

“I guess so,” Oikawa responded, smiling back at you. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“You know, they say sex with your soulmate is mind blowing.”

“Shut up.”

got a request? send it in. i’ll write it.

[priboltao]

here’s some more triggery fucked up shit [all triggers apply]

i’ll just spare your 173 dashes

i cut real bad today and i felt fucking proud i managed to do that

like “fuck yeah i really gave myself what i deserve! cut this bitch!”

im not even joking, that was what i was thinking

also i tried being happy with brendon coming out

i should, right

but the internet made me a suspicious bitch so i just got like “is he really tho”

also over the past hour this fucking hell hole of a site reminded me of every single bad thing he ever did and can i be honest? I don’t wanna know

i  dont  want  to  know

I just wanna keep looking up to him cause his music helped me so much during this very dark moment im going through and believing in him being a good person (although slightly misguided at times) makes this so much easier

(like when he donated a fucking million dollars to charity and i couldn’t even be happy about it cause you fuckers made me second guess that too)

but my point is, i wanna be happy for him and be like those people like “omg he’s such a legend” and then i go to all-loving-ryan tumblr and all i see is the bad shit he did and my point is i don’t wanna know. I literally wanna overlook everything and pretend everything is fine. Let me say that again

i wanna pretend everything is fine

cause it just makes my life so much easier, it’s so much better when i want to die just because i’ll never go to a panic! concert instead of wanting to die because the one person i admired and looked up to ends up being a fucking idiot who harrasses people and jokes about stuff that should never be joked about

i just wanna love something and not be fucked by it

even though this is also becoming a problem because looking at photos of a happy couple also makes me wanna kill myself because i’ll never ever find love in life and it kills me even tho i say it doesn’t

love really is the most important because even if you’re super broke, when you really really love someone that seems to be less important cause at least you have love

but if i’ll never find love i wish i could at least be filthy rich, but hey, i can’t - i’ll be broke forever cause that’s how capitalism works

(we have a song in brazil about it that goes like “the rich gets richer, the poor gets poorer; and everyone knows the reason why: those who are up go up, and those who are down go down”)

So, the two most important things in life are: love (like real fucking undying love) and money (a real obscene amount of money) and I have none of those and never will

also the only two times someone said they loved me romantically i didn’t love them back, and one of them assaulted me

also there’s the sex thing - don’t ask. there’s abuse involved.

also i’m super broke even tho i work full time in a job i hate cause i have no prospects of supporting myself in any other way- well, my mom. It’s just to support my mom, if i didn’t have to do that, i would have killed myself long ago and even she knows that

(not that she cares, she’s too busy being depressed as well and expecting me to be supportive when she never was supportive of my mental ilnesses. In fact, to this day, when she sees new cuts she calls me stupid and says she should hit me. I’m thirty, mind you.)

also my dream of becoming a writer tanked so many years ago and people go like “why don’t you write anymore” and i’m like bitch i would if i got paid but money is the only thing that matters to even get published in this shitty country and i dont have it

maybe im just not talented enough

to overcome what everyone knows is a business where you have to have connections

and if we’re being honest being a writer is a plan B cause its the only thing i do sort of well (not well enough to succeed apparently) cause what i really wanted was to be a singer or a performer or to be in broadway but the thing is i suck and i missed my window to try and succeed by looks, and i sing like a dead hyena and move like said hyena was hit by a truck and act like, well, nothing, i took six months of teather in college and chickened out because of the pressure so broadway would eat me alive (but at least i would die in NY instead of stinky brazil)

So, big summary

im cutting like hell cause i deserve it

i wish brendon was a better person but if he’s not i’ll just ignore his shitty behaviour like the coward i am and just c h o o s e to believe him

of the two people that make me feel amazing things with their music, one is problematic as fuck and one killed himself (and i won’t go into it, but it fucks me up to think it’s being a year and only now i’m getting the realization he did that and he’s not coming back. LIKE, JUST NOW)

i’ll never find love or happiness cause i’m just shit and don’t deserve anything

i’ll never have enough money to just try and fill this hole i have where my soul should be, i barely get by to pay my bills

i can do only one thing sort of well but not well enough to succeed 

i suck real bad at everything else i would love to do

i’m ugly as fuck

i wish i could end my life like yesterday but i can’t cause it would crush my mom’s feelings and i cannot do that even though i’m sure she would thrive without my toxic influence

so i’m just dragging my ass through life, living paycheck to paycheck and pretending everything is fine cause if i don’t, i’ll cave in and breakdown and i don’t even have the right to do that

and i’m like, beyond any help at this point, like there’s literally nothing i can do to change how i feel and i’ll just have to suck it up and hold it together till the day i can die which can be like 50 years from now

it will be pretty pathetic when i get to kill myself really cause it will be like “ok, but you could have waited you’re really old already ur gonna die anyway”

but it will be a fucking while

long story short

this has been a post.

[yuki-d-raizel-blog]

Believe Me

Chapter 11/??

Relationship: Rin x Reader (Your/Name) , (Full/Name)

Summit: Inside the class there was the same confusion of always, Rin and Bon were fighting over something stupid, Shima and Konekomaru were trying to stop them while Shiemi and Izumo were laughing for the scene. Everything was as always. Until the bell rang. The Exwires notice that the professor was late, but nobody knew why. When the door opened… A new student arrived to the True Cross Academy. She’s smart and strong, still a quiet and solitary person. Moved by a strange feeling, Rin would like to know her, help her if he can but nobody would think that that student was someone so… special.

--- 

In the following days, after training, Rin comes to your place to play, talk and swim in the pool, or to drag you out somewhere he would like to go. Shura notices a huge improvement in Rin and his ability to control flames, so she decides to follow him and know the truth. She was caught by Yukio and his students, so she dragged everyone with her.

They followed Rin in a rich and beautiful villa.

<<What the- Who lives here?!>> she screams whispering, and Yukio tells that (Y/N) is the owner of the house, <<Hah? You’re kidding!>>

<<I’m not. She lives here with her brother.>> he adjusts his glasses and turns his heels, <<I’m not going in.>>

<<Why?>> the woman is curious to know what Rin do when he’s with you.

<<It’s rude to enter without announcement.>> “And she hates it. I don’t want to deal her again.”

<<Let’s go guys!>> Shura and the students break in the propriety and follow the demon carefully.

The group hides in the flowers and looks at Rin relaxing in the pool, while you are in a room watching the TV with a giant wolf. You look so nervous and your eyes are glued on the screen. What are you watching?

<<Ah, Yatsufsa it’s him!>> you pointed at the TV joyfully and Rin comes near too.

<<Is Shion’s turn already?>> he asks going out the pool, <<Woah, that’s an awesome costume!>>

You increase the volume to hear what your brother will say, even if you know that too well. He always says a phrase before the performance, and those words never fail to drive the audience crazy.

<<Now, the prodigy ice skater!>> the commentate is so enthusiastic to introduce Shion, <<He’s a rather quiet person and rarely talks. However, whenever talking about music he always mentions how “fate is written in the stars”. Interviewing his coach, we discovered something new about this mysterious and charming boy! He’s extremely dedicated to his duties to the point of suffering emotional breakdowns->>

<<Yukiya you piece of shit! You didn't have to say that!>> you are throwing chips to the screen, <<Now if Shion loses his change to get the medal due to this shit, I swear I’ll kill you when you come back home!>>

<<Why don’t you go with your brother?>> Rin asks stealing a few chips, <<You train him, right?>>

<<I can’t, Shion is too- Wait a second.>> she turns facing the friend, <<How do you know that?>>

<<Ops… I’ve never said that to anyone!>> he quickly takes a few steps backwards, <<Nobody knows that you’re his coach and prepare everything for him, from the music to the choreographies!>>

<<Double torture for Yukiya when he comes back.>> now she’s focusing again on the competition.

<<He's very hard on himself, as he believes he has to do anything to prove that he’s a valuable member for his brother. He eventually let down his guard and openly smiles and jokes around with everyone, but he is very close to his brother Orion.>> the skaters are warming up while the commentate is taking his time, <<Let’s remember him for a moment. He made his first and maybe last debut with his little brother two years ago, Canada. They performed with a new skate style and they conquested all the world with their voices, songs, and moves! Their win was declared with their duet song, “Immortal Inferno”.>>

<<Yeah, yeah, I remember that! C’mon, let me see my boy win against those idiots!>> Yatsufsa too is moving his tail faster, impatient to see Shion.

A young man skates on the court and stops in the center, the crowd goes complited silent, <<Ladies and gentlemen, Shion is here!>>

He’s still and silent with a microphone on his ear. The silence is cruel, but nobody tries to make a noise to not disturb and not hear the sweet voice of the skater, <<The stars have led me to you; now, whisper my name.>>

The music starts and Shion begans to skate gracefully on the ice. His voice is so deep and hypnotic, even Rin is staring at the TV with wide opened eyes. You sing along with Shion and move a bit your body to release the pressure to watch him trough a screen. The jury is focus on every movement, jumps, the position of the hands, the arms; they are stricter than usual.

<<You can do it…>> you hug tight Yatsufsa and continue to stare at the TV, praying that he doesn’t fall or makes mistakes. You know if that happens, Shion will blame himself for everything and will avoid you for a while. You don’t want it, you want he comes back home, hug you and show at you his pure smile.

Shion sings like a melodic instrument, jumps with an angelic harmony, spins like a top but he hasn't done yet. When the music stops, he stays still, the chest is going up and down with a crazy rhythm.

The audience is quiet like your living-room....

Suddenly, loud screams born into the arena and on the ice court there are so many flowers, flags, sweets, stuffed animals.

<<SHION! SHION! SHION! SHION!>> the entire stadium calls his name like one person.

<<Wow!>> exclaims Rin, he has never seen something like thath before, <<If he won, what->> you’re too focus on the jury. “Shion is really important to her. Look how she is praying for him.”

<<Come on, he did everything perfectly…>> your anxiety is almost palpable, <<Please…>> you close your eyes and hide your face in Yatsufsa’s fur.

….

<<Oh my goodness! That’s a new world record!>> the commentate screams joyfully, and you raise your head to see the score, <<He took a full score! And we know what this mean!>>

<<Oh my god Yatsufsa!!>> you jump off the sofa and join your hands firmily.

<<LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! OUR STAR SHION, RISES AGAIN! HE’LL GOES TO THE WOLRD CHAMPIONSHIP!>> after that scream, the entire stadium explodes with the loudest cheer of all the time.

<<YES! YES! YES! HE DID IT! HE FUCKING DID IT!>> you and Yatsufsa are celebrating the boy’s win; the wolf runs all over the room barking, while you’re crying tears of joy watching Shion’s doing the same on the screen.

Rin is clapping enthusiastic for him. He skated amazingly, his voice was like a blessing, the lyrics too… He deserves the first place more than anyone. Moved by an unstoppable happiness, you jump in Rin’s arm and hug him. He didn’t see you at all, so he loses the balance and both of you fall in the pool.

<<(Y/N), are you crazy?>> he scolds the partner, but you’re too busy on celebrate with Yatsufsa, which is in the pool too. “She is so pure… How can her presence be a catastrophe, I really can’t understand that.”

<<I must text hi->>

<<Not so fast girl.>> Rin grabs your shorts and pulls you back in the water, <<You’re gonna pay for this.>>

<<Wanna fight?>> with an invisible jump, you get on the edge of the pool and with a simple snap, the water is moving like a snake, <<Bring it on!>>

That tecnique hits Shura and her group's attention. They don't know anything like that. You didn't say any sutras or mantras, so what did you done to create a water wall so easily? The questions and dubts about you and your identity grows more and more. Are you an enemy? A spy? Who are you?

<<Woah wait!>> the blue exorcist jumps out and looks at the liquid, <<It's not fair!>>

<<Why?>> you hold the water still with a finger, <<I did the same the other time too. What's the problem?>>

<<Last time you used your swords! What is this?! How can you do that?>>

<<Hahaha look at your face!>> she laughes and moves the liquid, <<I told you at the exam before the mission, remember? I can manipulate Elements, which means I can use fire, water, wind, lightning, ice, light, darkness, earth and steel.>>

<<....Those aren't->>

<<These aren't japanese nor exorcism tecniques, you're right. I learned them in my village. Traditions, you know.>>

<<If you can control them bare handed, why do you use swords?>> Rin is curious, you are so new to him, like a strange but still affascinating lands, <<You told me that you’ve more than two weapons.>>

<<He, it's a secret, sorry.>> you avoided the topic and concluded the issue putting the water back in the pool with a smile, <<However, you’re weak Rin.>>

<<What?!>>

<<You depend too much on  your powers. First, learn how to use a sword.>> going near him, you hit him for adjusting his posture, <<Can you divide the water with a single swing?>>

<<...Like what?>>

<<Ah...>> sighing, she leaves an arm hanging, suddenly, moving it like a clawed hand, she raises it and a strong wind comes... <<Like this.>>

<<....What the hell are you? Really!>> Rin is speachless, all the water leaks from the pool and on the garden there is something like a path, the air you moved was too strong that crushed the grass on the ground, <<You were unarmed too!>>

<<If you move your body like a gear, you can do it too.>> calling Yatsufsa, you order him to bring two training sticks, <<Your sword skills are very bad buddy.>>

<<I'm not that weak!>> Rin protests, even if he knows that is true.

<<Even Shion can beat you. The son of Satan can't lose against a human!>>

<<Shion can't beat me, damn it! I'm more used to fights->>

<<I trained him for self-defense. He knows martial arts very well and can use a few weapons just in case.>> the student crosses her arms and makes a playful grin, <<You can barely use your body correctly->>

<<Ok, I get it! Yukio and Shura are enough!>> Rin sits on the grass and ignores you, <<Fuck.>> a light weight hit him on his blue hair, <<What?>> he has such an angry face, it's kinda cute.

<<I can teach you if you want.>> you pass him a long wooden stick, <<It's not a bother for me, and it’ll save your life one day. I'll make each lesson funny for you, don't worry. I understand which is your best learning method already!>>

<<You’re pretty secure, aren't ya?>> he stands up again and grabs the weapon, <<I'm in your hands again, (Y/N)-sensei!>>

Starting slowly, you show him the basic movements to loosen muscles and joints of the body. Being flexible is a fundamental requirement for learning martial arts. 

As the first lesson continues, Shura and the others decide to retire for the moment, go back to the Academy and reflect on what they have just saw. Rin knows about you more of them, but what exactly? What was all that force that came out of your arm in that istant? Rin said you have more than one sword... So it means that you’re used to fight with various types of weapons and how to take advantage of them. Right now, for the team, the main questions are: who are you and can they trust you? Making an immediate report to Mephisto, the principal decides to tail and watch the two Exwire until holidays are over. As soon as they'll come back, a very complicated mission awaits them.

Shura continues to follow the son of Satan, but one day she finds a powerful barrier surronding your house. Not knowing how to break it, she calls Yukio and the Exwire avaibles to formulate a plan. When they were speaking, the second gate opened, (Y/N) cames out the house and waits with Yatsufsa. While she’s waiting, a young boy suddenly appears next to her.

<<I checked everything, he isn't here.>> he says putting an arm on your shoulder for rest a little, <<If Yukiya finds out the truth we’re all in trouble, you know that, right Master?>>

<<Don't worry Raika.>> you rest your head on his arm, <<I made this barrier for Shion and you guys. I feel something weird in the air today... Bare with me a little longer.>>

<<I’ll be always by your side.>> Raika pats your head and adds sighing, <<Master, you need to sleep more.>>

<<Geez not again...>>

<<I know I'm a pain in the ass, but I'm worried about you. That man broken your peace and I can see that in your actions and your eyes. Do you want to move again?>>

<<No, Shion really likes here. Let's stay a little longer.>>

<<Master, you should stop to carry the burder all by yourself.>> Raika strokes your hair sweetly and his voice is so gentle, <<We’re here with you, so share it with us.>>

<<I'm only afraid, you know that.>> with a sad sigh you raise your head and cross your arms, <<I don't wanna be happy... When I'm too happy, something terrible always happens...>>

<<What you’re afraid of is quite stupid, Master. You’re the strongest in the world, and so we are... We don't go anywhere (Y/N).>>

<<If I'm lose all of you... I'll go crazy... I can't take it; another member of my family who dies on me... Never again...>> deleting all the sad memories, you add: <<You said my name. Call me that more Raika->>

<<Master, Shion is back!>> the boy points at the horizon and a car is moving to your place. Raika goes into the house to prepare something fresh and cool for your brother, today is hotter than usual so it will help him.

A car stops in front the gates and Yukiya is the driver for the occasion. Shion get off with a smiley blondy girl next to him.

<<Shiemi?>> you’re pretty surprised to see her, same as the team that are still watching your movements. Shion says that he finds the classmate on her way here, so he accompanied the young lady to her destination.

<<(Y/N)-san, I'm sorry for the disturb...>> Moriyama is a little embaressed.

"What was that?" you heard something, so smiling, you encourage the two to enter while you will check what was that sound.

---Continue...

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

[castlehead]

[identity vices]

[who the fuck were we?, we didn’t know, but when we had a shred of a notion, it was the biggest thing in the real world, i get my shreds and move on think of something about myself as im quietly stocking shelves and the whole time it’s just there, in my heart, and I’m just doing what I do cuz nobody cares I say, how was your weekend ah, slept in, didn’t do much the mundane is the single most common mask, precisely because it is what it says it is, it’s foolproof, locked I mean people do care, friends do, but you don’t pay people to be your friend, and that’s what ****** was: just a bunch of fucked up rich kids thinking they were making way, myself included, because we paid people to congratulate us for the most insignificant shit       hahahaha hahahaha that’s not psychology it’s pedology it’s infantile So basically, they were making up for us all having fucked up parents?        or fucked up childhoods?                      there’s something my mom says to me: "it’s never too late to have a happy childhood" I think that’s the best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten. As crazy as it is, I feel like I’ve stabilized in a way. Maybe it’s premature, but I feel like that level of depression is behind me, not because I won’t ever be that fucked up again, but because I can rationalize it and deal with it better now. And the past is just that — it’s something behind me.         I feel powerful, like I have a choice in my own life again. that’s amazing and that’s giving credence to your will to move at all it starts not with the choice but with the belief that there is one, after all. inertia means powerlessness, fated to be nothing, do nothing, achieve nothing just a marble rolling across frictionless space that’s for the universe to give a will to, if there even is a thing so wild the will to salute yourself      that’s what I’m glad you’ve found I mean, our own interpersonal relationships weren’t compliment based, I don’t think   in a way, they were but they were also driven off of needs that we still have to this day I think between you and I, there’s one night in particular that comes to mind

you were crying in ***********

and I consoled you         it was a very human experience for me but I’m not complimenting, just saying that the seeing of choice in one’s life through the depressive whatever-fog, is maybe a shred I’d keep close, because it’ll always be the first thing people who are depressed will need to do before they act: find the will.           .  [SIDETHOUGHT: [The ‘proper’ way to read a poem or novel should be interpreted by the majority who read it, not the minority consisting of scholars and schoolmarms. The good perception of words is what effect taken in by the greater good. That, after all, is why she^ lasts. The greater good has taken its opinion over to sit with her after you slept all night on the park bench, wouldn’t even get up to let the great hunk of their collective ass hunker down next to you—once you moved that silly raincoat, it already stopped pouring five seconds ago. On top of your drenched body, the common good reads The Wasteland as your skull slowly crushes beneath the incontinent hams of a bubbling, a farting girth of what even though just metaphor must weigh as much as the continent itself, or western hemisphere if you prefer a lil meat. On bones.]]] ? ?           .  Who: Kafkazzzo, Freckett K. Where: Frumple of a/my bedroom, (a) Earth, getting ready to head to—a party— When: 4:42AM. Though it’s probably already happy hour somewhere. As the saying goes. What Dimension: Third Possibly Askew And Flattened Like A Very Delicious Pancake Into What Dimension: 4th, time Background: Mobile lamp way too bright. Cigarette resting in glass ashtray. Empty glass of water, purposelessness, general purposelessness. I am evading that space of it tho. And silence only stopped by the glum entreaty of the air conditioning system. Noises, kds. playing baseball in the courtyard, downstairs. Drugs Ingested: Pot. Any Pharms?: Klonopin, maximum required dosage, Lithium, Cymbalta (duloxetine HCI)               And I punch him in the face. You by me a soda YOU BUY ME A SODA "You buy me soda?" Said RANDOM FRENCH GUY. “Sure.” Reached into pocket. Gave RANDOM FRENCH GUY four dollars. My Wallet has Hawaii on it. There are two pictures of HAWAII on each side of the wallet. They are the same picture. Somewhere there is a person who I am a reflection of, a year’s ago same picture, and everywhere I see and repel this sameness if that is I see it in others, however small the observation. Except, of course, if I observe such things in her. I do not wish however for others to have the same glitches. Human character is diverse enough to go a night at a party without reminiscence, eh? She is in the left ventricle of my heart, clearly seen by microscope, eating away at the cement walls there. That to the human eye, is mere idiosyncratic dominion. They say. And they say to me should I just gulf out one person from another if I have some chick who used to have big boobs chewing on my left ventricle, by now a block of pure cement fresh from the whisking mixer? How could I tell them that if so then both aren’t to be found again in the other, which is me, together; I lose her I lose myself. Then who would we be, remain as? Perhaps it does not matter to her. Or like to be even, who would I get to be if I can grant myself that? I guess what I am trying to say is that I “I need more dollar. Buy pizza.” “Only because you’re French. Consider it a war bond for the next time those Germans come to kick your sorry ass.” I gave him three dollars without thinking about it. Don’t think about it. Not often. Always willing to spot. Never have money to spot with. Because I spot so much. Drunk thinking. Here’s half a forty I’m chugging. The liquid goes down my esophagus. It is meant to be drunk to make you drunk. Everything should have meaning. That is how life should work, but it doesn’t work that way at all. It’s groping for good in life and scratching [searching] out for crumbs like tickets, no lotto, again, and the chaff of once purposed greatness led on its way up higher and higher from conscious desire, throwing away everything, only to come upon none other than unconscious desire: and then the desire is all that remains, ah so I guess that is what I would be. A lustfiend. Surviving in and of himself as a medical-grade loner. Him the result of his own destruction, the result itself, seen safely from a distance of billions of miles into his head, somewhat like a black hole. And I am like a dog forever biting its tail in an effort to gnaw the thing off. Except we are MAN, and so we hack off our tails with bare bodkins and pursue our efforts and dismays daily, diffusing it all as like a poison of the tragically mundane. Life goes well spooned together with a nice molasses of confused sensations to create the pastiche that is for our lives and for life, yes, but this becomes rather what we see in life: it might be equally as false or true, it might be: LIFE, yes, that grand, technical, way-out-there celebrity in gloves, and hardly enjoying himself at the awards ceremony, his smile attempting to reach to the ceiling, and to look maybe for a vent or some means of escape or even a deadly event as tragic as ever: well yeah who cares he is merely at a cheap height of the cosmos after all is said and done but no one knows where exactly it is done saying, so this image goes and rakes in the cosmopolitanism around him anyhow. Hungry, not for that, but having no other means to sate himself. Well, nothing like the stacks of cash this demiurge counterfeits on regular to land a celeb in jail. All the time? For years, yo. Nobody figured it out. And well don’t you know, I might say back, that God doesn’t do cash, that’s some stairway to heaven shit. God says this to me, in a toys-r-us of course, buying his fifth monopoly game board this week, opening it up, and stuffing the monopoly money in astounding pants. I suppose he is just as anyone who does this would be, now, officially desperate to pay rent:

GOD say: For, we whom are not yourselves live in coves, and do not disrupt the willing men and women of the surf to splash upon our chapped land and get up foot to foot and dust off themselves, off. It is they do not bother. The only off is on in the cave of the Removed. Stalactites filled in full rings by the petrifying jelly of screams and shrieks, of you—clear, consumptive squawks. You continue to at least darken this prison cell with your resignation, bars thick enough to shrink the teeth of my steel monster, you all beneath my skin, lingering on the meddling cusp of what I don’t know—what I don’t understand, perhaps we don’t, I know I don’t—I look at the world as though on a merry-go-round that blurs things. People smiling and looking with pleasant face. Every still phantasm, you, staring back and looking into a deep lecherous void in my eye I see. Meanwhile, it is OK: we the Removed have already supplanted that steel monster with a giant, happy frog to distract you [when you weren’t looking]. It gaily farts and bubbles in the mud and says with his blank eye [as though frogs could speak at all!] no, that we cannot go, o no, o no, NO, cannot go to heaven. Enough of farce. I’m listening to twee music. What does it matter. What does any of it matter any more. Twee crap blends in with the rest of this mess. I’ll try and get sleep, later. So many memories. Touching me. Wresting my heart from its bone prism. All the horrible memories, the forgetting me by friends I thought would stay, the forgotten sadness I too have let pass painlessly out of recollection. Sadness, sadness, deep sadness. Friends out somewhere getting wasted all alone, [as I was, am, tho it used to b among people] with just their good company to keep. Eaten by the night. Wake up, scratch leg, bug bite. Lighted I am and my recollections only by the perfidious youth sense nowadays and leaking out with regularity. Anyway let them say that was all they ever had. Ha! And yet already as I see them in my mind’s eye, through film: musty, shitty film that ratchets against the projector like a master the axe to hitch in his steed the leftover stump from last Spring, doubled with mosses for whatever reason considered consumptive to the land, or was it, they were poisonous?, my friends, they are all so very old. I am so very old.