#most of my fics are plotted just like this

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[imtherain]

Smeared Lipstick

Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.

This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol

Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!

Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.

Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

“Hit me,” 

The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.

“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.

“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.

“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How your hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.

You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.

“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty.  Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.

“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.

“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.

“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away. 

Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.

But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.

“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,” 

“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you were a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You could also see how lucky someone was, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.

“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.

“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk. 

You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.

“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.

“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.

“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions. 

“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.

You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.

“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.

“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You pressed as he stepped forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips moved against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.

“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,” 

“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel far enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,” 

“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.

“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.

“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.

He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.

“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.

“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy. 

Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.

You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.

Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.

With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.

You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.

When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.

Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.

You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.

Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.

Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air. 

Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good one.

“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.

“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,” 

“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.

“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.

“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,” 

“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You took another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he was compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.

You kissed the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.

The second time was always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he would let out those grunting noises you love so much.

And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.

You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.

The noise Logan makes is something you wished you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.

Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.

Logan never lasted long with your fingers in his ass.

You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.

Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.

“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,” 

“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.

“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.

“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.

“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.

Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.

“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.

“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.

You liked it when he was gentle.

When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss. 

But he knew better than that. 

You both did.

You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.

“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.

“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,” 

“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.

“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.

“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.

You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.

“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.

“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,” 

“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,” 

You were about to give in entirely when the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were still at work.

“Fuck… Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he just dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.

“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.

You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.

“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”

You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.

“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.

“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.

It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.

“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,” 

You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.

“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,” 

“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckled in your ear as he finally pulled his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groaned at the loss of him, but hummed in pleasure when you watched him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teased.

“Oh shush,” You stood and adjusted yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,” 

“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said, like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.

“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chided. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,” 

“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious? 

“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.

And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.

[More Logan]

[Main Master List]

[tvwebs]

Excuse me? Oh no

Part 1 - curiosity

platonic!yandere!batfam x reader

Warnings: this was made with MALE reader in mind but please interpretate the gender however you like, the reader here is minor coded but no confirmed age, invasion of privacy, out of character depictions, this is a joke fic but taken seriously, mentions of kidnapping, no beta we die like jason

Dividers by aquazero

(this is a series) part one (your here) , part 2 , part 3, part 4

PLOT: you were given a phone, but your "family" can't help but feel nosy about your own privacy

You hate it here. There was no doubt to that, you have been held hostage by the Wayne's for a couple of months now and it was terrifying AND somewhat annoying. You don't these guys, you haven't met them until like when you were kidnapped, it was horrible.

They promised you can have boundaries, they broke those, privacy, you don't know they don't actually allow that, you felt like they were trying to be as considerate to you as possible for you to stay and you can't help but be in sort of awe, they are your kidnappers and despite their possessive and terrifying tendencies you felt like they geniuely cared for you (you didn't even wanna be here), so to cope with this situation you do what other people do- staying on social media.

Bruce gave you a new phone a few weeks ago and you have been obsessively using it so you could feel you have security again, not ideal nor healthy but hey, what else is there? You found a way to log in into your old Tumblr and/or Wattpad account, obviously you were trying to hide th fact from the bat family, you would be lectured for hours! So you tried to keep it in a down low, removing every search, hiding apps, deleting shit is saddening but it's for your safety and security.

Damian. He was the first to notice you spending much more time on your phone recently and as the little as he is, he tries peeking behind on what your doing but can't see clearly but he sees words? No texting- what is it your reading? "What is that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and weirdly stern tone of voice, you flinched and quickly existed the app "o-oh! nothing." You are horrible at lying when it comes to Damian, he makes you feel.. uneasy.

Damian wasn't convinced as expected and he tries to grab the cellular device in your hand and with your idiotic instincts you slapped his hand away, he gasps and he turns irritated. That wasn't your best move. "How could you? All I want is to make sure you're safe and this is how you react?!" He huffs and now you're scared, like they are always so unpredictable when they are mad.

"i-im sorry." You apologized, you wish that Damian doesn't convince Bruce to put you back in the white room. It was torture, Damian scoffs and walks away, you were left shaking, what happened just now..? You just went back reading a stupid FNAF fic to calm your nerves (you are such a weirdo)

It was dinner time, you were eating in the so called "room" you were in everyday, Bruce said you weren't ready to eat at the dinner table, whatever that means. Alfred bought you your food, you thank him and he left, is the grandpa okay?

As you eat you listen in the conversation in the dinner table, "When will we ever have them eat over here?" Seemingly to be Dicks voice, he was the one that seemed to be the most clingy to you. "When they are ready." Bruce said to him in a stoic tone. You continue to listen in..

"Father, there's something I feel that needs your attention." Damian announces, oh no what is he going to do? Bruce perks his attention to Damian with the 'hm?' sound. "I feel that Y/N is hiding something from us. Just today they slapped my hand away when I asked." He said recalling the event from earlier.

Tim who was also here (don't forget him) looks confused "like what?" He asked, Damian always seemed so dramatic about you to Tim, Damian gave an annoying sigh "Their phone! They might be hiding something in their phone!" He shouted, "they shouldn't be keeping secrets from us, were family!" He continued to argue

Oh god.

"Damian calm down, I will handle this little situation later, if they are hiding something they aren't supposed to they are going back to the white room." Bruce exclaimed and/or added.

"Doesn't that seem a bit extreme Bruce?" Jason teased with a smirk in response with Bruce's statement, Jason may present himself as the most normal and gives you a lot of freedom but he is just as controlling and possessive as the others.

"of course not, it's for their own good." Jesus Christ he is so ominous and cryptic. This is the same guy that is seen as a good billionaire?, the family continue to eat and banter

While they were eating, you were stuck in a position, when Bruce mentioned the "white room" you don't wanna go back, you don't wanna go back. That place was awful. Your privacy is not valued.

They don't care about you, they just think they do. what can you even do?

[brynn-lear]

for those who are looking which of these games have yandere endings, allow me to kindly add them in a read more :D

Cupid Parasite: Gill Lovecraft

The most consistent yandere-vibes from Lock's recommendations. Gill's I would say leans so much on pathetic sad dog yandere and irl stalker that the otome game community is very divided on him (and a majority of us are yandere/trash husbando fans lol).

You'll spend most of his routes looking at how much he's a loser (/aff) who simps for his former roommate. I mean, he's trying to get over you but the heavens might quite literally be playing with him— cause how can he move on when you're his matchmaker???????

Cupid Parasite is so silly and so fun, highly recommend for those who love romcoms.

Piofiore: Nicola (Bad End)

Note: don't search his name on google images cause one of the first things you'll see is his CG for the bad end. Do not spool yourself lol.

Oooh how I love this man. Him and Dante are my faves [and Roberto. Lord. I love Roberto so much why isn't he a love interest?!?!?]

I won't spoil much, but his bad ending is 🥰. Plus Piofiore is such a good game anyways, it's worth trying out. If you like mafia men that are trash and would definitely kill you in other routes (sometimes their own too aHEM MISTER CHINESE KEBAB)— this game is for you.

Olympia Soiree: Kuroba (Bad End)

Ngl I remember the yandere end for this one being relatively short, but Kuroba along with Byakuya are my faves so I didn't really mind. If you like your fics with some sort of "chosen one" flair to it, OS is for you <3.

Don't get it twisted though, the game makes it a point to show time and time again how much their color system destroys the people [definitely feels like a metaphor for racism-]

Even if Tempest: Crius Castlerock (Bad End)

TW: childhood abuse/neglect, cannibalism, straight up every route has murder since this is literally a Phoenix Wright fantasy otome game, blood, unending angst you can't escape from if you want to see a single good ending, etc. For the amount of girlbossing and (justifyable?) crimes the heroine had done [and lord she's such a pretty androgynous girlie], the game is very refreshing.

LOOK AT MY BABIIIIESSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

If you love suffering, I highly recommend this game because the plot is amazing. It does not hold back as much. It's not like Black Wolves Saga's level of "dead dove: do not eat" but man will it surprise you.

Crius definitely feels overprotective even in routes outside his. As an older brother figure-esque, he has this tendency to help you out without question [this fact will hurt you later.] His bad end? I'm a simp. And I like the hurt it gives. 10/10. Also him in the fandisk is 🤌🤌🤌🤌. Everyone in that game is so loveable.

I play a whole lot of localized switch otome games and let me just say, he's gotta be part of my top 5— and some people on that list are there for nostalgia's sake (Hi Tokimeki Memorial). Crius is great. Much love.

Bonus route: Steam Prison - Fin Euclase

I shit you not, bro is a yandere in every route but his. I am not joking. The amount of Love Interests that had fallen from his hands— meanwhile in his route he's a struggling wholesome puppy just trying to survibe the underworld. I love him but I cannot be with him simply because I'm not content with just seeing him happy, I wanna see that broken side again /silly

I forgot to mention: I wouldn't say CxM has a yandere route [I say that as someone whose faves are Okazaki and Shiraishi, who keeps being typed as yanderes when they're deranged at best /j]

... Buuut there is a bad end where it feels like Hoshino/the MC is a yandere for our poster boy :)

lock's otome game recs

i received some asks indicating an interest in a compilation of my favorite otome games, so i decided to go for it!! i've played about fourteen otome games, but of those fourteen, only these six left a lasting impression on me. there are still some that i intend to check out, so the rankings may update in the future. i'll give a very general overview of each game and how i'd score the categories that i find the most important in an otome game — the heroine, story, art, enjoyability, along with the characters i liked the most.

number 6 - piofiore fated memories.

heroine: 6/10 story: 6.5/10 characters: 7/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 8/10 favorite characters: dante (ishikawa kaito), nicola (kimura ryouhei) and yang (okamoto nobuhiko)

this game centers around the heroine, with the default name liliana adornato, who finds herself entangled in the politics of the region's three most prominent crime organizations. the game has an italian backdrop and iirc, takes place in the 1930s.

the overarching narrative, while it has its fair share of intrigue, isn't the game's strongest point. it's the interactions with the characters themselves that made the game feel worthwhile. each love interest has more to them than what meets the eye, so it's satisfying to watch the relationship between them and the heroine develop.

the heroine takes a passive role throughout much of the game, events sorta just happen to her. still, she has a kind disposition that makes her likable and doesn't make stupid decisions that has you wanting to fling your console across the room. her characterization changes slightly depending on the route. for instance, without getting into spoilers, she's more assertive throughout yang's route. the resulting dynamic made yang's route the most memorable, even if he's my third favorite character from the bunch.

what feels unique to this game is the effort put into the bad endings. in most visual novels, bad endings can feel like gimmicks. you make one or two wrong decisions and you're rewarded with a few paragraphs. the downward spiral of the characters in the bad endings are decently fleshed out and you can see how they arrived at this 'worst' version of themselves. they're suitably dark and it shouldn't come as a surprise that i enjoyed them because of that 😭

then there's the art. it's stunning, the details in each CG are mindboggling. the heroine gets to wear a variety of pretty outfits which is something i like to see. even in the story's weaker moments, a stunning CG would pop up that had me forgiving everything. i still glance through the gallery to this day.

number five - cupid parasite.

heroine: 9.5/10 story: 7/10 characters: 7/10 art: 9/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: ryuki keisaiin (junya enoki) & gill lovecraft (kimura ryouhei)

iconic. showstopping. a little bit camp.

cupid parasite stars one of my favorite heroines, lynette. she works as a bridal advisor whose ambition is to ensure everyone finds their soulmate. in actuality, she's the goddess cupid, who left her post in celestia to better understand humanity and create lasting pairs. she's a delight to play as.

this game's presentation and overall aesthetic is the most distinct from any otome game i've played. aside from the presentation, the story itself is unlike any of the others on this list. when it comes to romance, i typically prefer them to be dark and mature. this game opts for a more lighthearted approach. it vacillates between being a romcom and dipping into the absurdist genre. there were times i was literally left speechless (glances at gill's route)... but it makes for an entertaining experience. the game's plenty funny as well.

personally, i enjoyed the more grounded moments when the mythological elements remained in the background. because of this, the true ending doesn't do it for me as much as they do in other games. as with anything, this is a personal preference though. i liked all of the routes and found the game handles the development of each love interest well. we're introduced to these men at their most pathetic and get to help them become a little more well-adjusted. lowering the cringe meter, if you will. it makes their growth all the most satisfying as the narrative progresses.

number four - even if tempest.

heroine: 9/10 story: 8.5/10 characters: 8/10 art: 6/10 enjoyability: 9/10 favorite characters: the heroine herself, tyril i lister (noriaki sugiyama), crius castlerock (makoto furukawa) and lucien neuschburn (kaito ishikawa)

right from the get-go, this game's premise had me hooked. it features the heroine, anastasia (<3!), who leads an incredibly tragic life. she's bestowed the ability to reverse time following each of her deaths and uses this to unravel a mess of mysteries the world's setting is tangled in.

this game is absolutely anastasia's story. without spoiling anything, i loved the approach they took with the time rewinding ability. how it's incorporated is unique to an otome game, which they take full advantage of to amplify the tragic romances. on that note, the romance itself occasionally takes a backseat to the narrative as a whole. personally, i didn't mind this in the moment, since i found the story so interesting. in retrospect, i do wish that we got more moments between the heroine and each love interest, especially in the true ending.

there are more gameplay elements here as well. you have to conduct investigations, gather evidence, and apply what you've learned during these trial segments. when i first read about this, i thought it'd be a gimmick, but i liked playing through them. it incentivizes you to pay extra close attention to the world.

while i liked the narrative as a whole, i do wish we got more worldbuilding. there are hints of political subterfuge and religious oligarchy that, while touched upon, could've been leaned into more to give the setting a distinct feeling.

number three - olympia soiree

heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 8/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: akaza (yoshitsugu matsuoka), himuka (shun horie), and yosuga (yuma uchida)

in olympia soirée, the eponymous heroine, olympia, lives in a society divided into castes based on colors. she is the last surviving member of a clan that can perform rituals to keep the sun aglow. this game is a lengthier title, i believe i clocked in around 25 ish hours (i don't use auto-play so that sheds some time). the story benefits from this, as olympia has rich worldbuilding and lore that's revealed throughout the route's progression.

we get to see the consequences of this caste system and olympia's growth as she becomes determined to realize a better future for the islands. this makes the heroine someone that you want to root for. personally, i'm a sucker for stories that center around a sheltered individual being forced to face the harsh realities of the world and maturing in their own way. this, paired with the struggles specific to this setting, make for a gripping backdrop for the character's routes. all the love interests have problems of their own that they need to address.

this is certainly a mature title, there's plenty of steamy scenes featuring gorgeous artwork. seriously... all the pretty CGs are absolute eye candy. i enjoyed the balance between the main narrative and the development of the romantic relationships, i don't remember ever feeling bored.

ironically enough, i think this is the darkest game from the bunch listed here, surpassing the game with actual horror elements. there's a whole litany of trigger warnings to be mindful of when going through the game's bad ends. they are, as the term suggests, Bad. not light or humorous in the slightest. the poor heroine goes through it. please be mindful of these more touchy subjects.

number two - 9 r.i.p

heroine: 8/10 story: 8/10 characters: 9/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: minami (nobuhiko okamoto), hibiki (shunichi toki), kureha (toshiki masuda), and koyo (ryota suzuki)

i was looking forward to the english localization of this game before it was even announced ... i'd been wanting an otome game with this vibe for ages. and it didn't disappoint! there are four different overarching story sections, with two characters each having their routes fall under them. this makes it difficult to give a summary since each route has a vastly different feel. some routes lean heavy into supernatural horror (such as hibiki and kureha), whereas others are just... supernatural (like with yukimaro and koharu).

the basic premise is that the main character, misa, is a high school girl burdened with her career survey. she's uncertain what she wants for the future and is being pressured by his mother to pursue a career in medicine. in one way or another, depending on the story section, she comes into contact with the afterlife and those who inhabit it.

i loved this game, i couldn't put it down. the routes that leaned heavy into horror were my favorites, which shouldn't be a surprise lol. i do feel some love interests were given preferential treatment of others, i wanted more from sena's storyline in particular, since he's voiced by one of my favorite VAs (tetsuya kakihara, the voice of scaramouche) 😭... apparently this game is receiving a fandisc, so hopefully they'll remedy that in the future.

minami stole the show for me. from what i've gauged online, he's a divisive character, you either find him grating or love him (like i do). i'm biased but i do think he has the most interesting and well-written story out of the love interests, i've played through it three times already. i just adored the dynamic between him and the heroine. he's petulant, selfish, and a bit immature, yet he goes to extremes for her as he realizes his unhinged feelings.

hibiki is a close second. the most yandere-coded of the bunch, he's soft-spoken and polite, but that exterior hides a creepy personality. like all of the characters in this game, there's a tragic element to him. i was worried about the role the heroine would play in helping him 'overcome' this, but i think they handled it well. it doesn't feel like the heroine's fixing him so much as she's helping him have a different perspective on certain events.

yeah i'm not normal about this game, i cannot recommend it enough. it would've taken the top slot if some of the routes were a bit more polished. i didn't care for yukimaro's at all, for example. routes like minami's, hibiki's, and koyo's more than make up for it though.

number one - collar x malice

heroine: 10/10 story: 10/10 characters: 10/10 art: 10/10 enjoyability: 10/10 favorite characters: takeru sasazuka (daisuke namikawa), kei okazaki (yuki kaji), and aiji yanagi (masakazu morita)

the holy grail. the otome games that died for our sins. this isn't just a good otome game, it's an excellent story, with a very human cast, commentary on issues like the nature of crime, and you're left wanting to solve the various mysterious as much as the heroine does. speaking of the heroine, miss hoshino ichika is my all-time favorite heroine. she's clever, resolute, compassionate, and you can't help but fall in love with her a little yourself 😭😭

i'm not sure if this makes sense, but the world feels very... full? you get this sense that ichika exists outside just interacting with the love interests. she has her career, friends, and her younger brother that act as more than passing NPCs. the writers ensured all the characters with portraits are given some level of depth. i left caring about more characters than the heroine and love interests.

each route is dedicated to working through a certain case, which keeps the story intriguing as you progress. finally, all of the little hints that have been littered throughout coalesce into the 'true' route, where questions you've had since the first chapter are given satisfactory conclusions. at the same time, you're left wondering about a few things, such as the complete philosophy of the main antagonist.

ichika's relationship with each of the love interests develops alongside the case they're investigating, which almost always have connections or parallels to the LI's past. this helped ground them in reality and flesh them out into dynamic characters. you come to care deeply about them alongside ichika. the romance feels earned and doesn't come on too fast, which some otome games suffer from.

if you like otome games and haven't played collar x malice yet, i fully recommend it!!!!!!!! it's the strongest title from what i've played so far.

[fyeahnix]

Ok lemme talk about this season of Arcane, the ending, and most importantly, Sevika. If you don't want spoilers, back away now but I'm leaving this open because people have a tendency to not open or read my posts with read more cuts after them 🙃

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First off, I will say that I like Arcane a lot. Like a LOT. I've watched the first season 4 times (rarely do I watch anything more than once) and I think it's a masterclass in adult animation. Fortiche really put everything into this series.

That being said...

While I did like season 2, I don't think it was enough. Animation wise it was phenomenal, writing wise...I think it could have been better. As I've learned through doing research for my Sevika fics, the League of Legends universe, lore, and worldbuilding is fucking MASSIVE and even if I don't give two shits about that community or game, I have to give it props in that department because they really put a ton of work into it to make it feel alive. Maps? Short stories? Timelines? Race and culture? Apex could never...

That ofc is why it's hard for me to say that the writing is amazing. We had far too many characters to keep track of in season 2 with far too many plot threads to finish in two seasons. I think ideally, this series should have been 3 seasons instead of 2. Acts 1 and 2 could have been its own season, and Act 3 could have been its own season. If not that, then at least one more episode per act would have helped a lot. Things just progressed and wrapped up far too quickly for my liking.

Also not a huge fan of how quickly video game related media tends to dip into the whole timeline and multidimensional business. It def works well for some games but here? Idk I guess it was bound to happen given some League character's abilities, but the stakes just elevated far too quickly for me. Not a fan of Viktor becoming one of the main antagonists at all, and DEFINITELY not a fan of the conflict between Piltover and Zaun being sidelined for an "enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing with the war against the Noxians. It makes sense, I just wish "war with the Noxians" came at a later date so we could focus on the twin cities.

And speaking of the generational conflict between Piltover and Zaun, let's talk about Sevika.

As I said before, Sevika is the most qualified person to become the leader of Zaun and I stand by that even after the ending. But first....what about her found family? Isha sacrificed herself and Sevika gets no on-screen reaction? The last two episodes just progressed SOOOO FAST that we and some of the characters didn't even have time to breathe. Did Sevika even get time to mourn for Isha? What about Jinx, who is now gone? Sevika barely even encountered Vander! I would have loved to see some of the aftermath there because I think season 1 did a better job of allowing characters time to process their emotions and grief, even if the pacing was still kinda fast. It was acceptable!

I am sad af she didn't get more lines, but remember, Sevika has always been a side character in this series. An important side character but a side character no less. The promo shot of her now feels like...what was the point? (more on that in a sec) but considering how many characters and plot points and plot threads they had to account for, I am not surprised she didn't get more screen time. Hell, Vi and Caitlyn didn't even get a chance to have a full conversation on eveything that happened and Caitlyn didn't even apologize on screen. The fuck bro.

Now about Sevika's ending....I am very happy she isn't dead. Like dawg, you have no fucking idea how happy I am about it. SHE FUCKING LIVED. But....

I am seeing some people saying they're not happy or they're confused or that her ending doesn't make sense. And I just disagree with those points. Let me explain why.

I posted something earlier today about it, but again, as people don't open my read mores, I'll repost it here:

We absolutely do not know how much time passed between the war and the final few shots of the season. So Sevika joins the council. I DO NOT THINK she would do this unless there's a good reason for it, and that's why I'm guessing she will be Zaun's ambassador on the council. That war probably significantly changed the relationship between Piltover and Zaun and while old wounds will take more than a fucking war to heal, her being on the council now means she directly has a say in Zaun's future. Remember, the council was literally about to hand Zaun their independence before Jinx blew it up, and Mel was in support of it. As I said before, Sevika is respected down there at a bare minimum with all the factions. She would know better than anyone how to lead Zaun at this point. So yeah I get the hesitation, but it makes sense in my eyes. And it makes it likely that Sevika could show up again in a future League animation, if not become a whole champion.

I like her ending. I am sorry but it just makes fucking sense. Sevika is extremely loyal to her home and her people of Zaun. We've seen that time and time again. She was willing to go to war and die for those people not just against Piltover but also the Noxians, so why on fucking earth would anyone believe she's making a bad choice here?

She is now in the best possible position anyone in Zaun could be to advocate for their independence and support their growth. She knows the chem barons and brought them to peace, she gained the respect of the Firelights with Scar leading them in Ekko's absence, and she even got the Jinxers together with them before the Noxian attack on Zaun. Sevika has experience, she has the ear of the people, she knows what it's like down there, she is made to lead and help advocate for them!!!!

Believe me I get that whole "changing things from the inside" angle doesn't work more often than not, but this doesn't feel like "changing from the inside," it feels like "let me advocate for my people's actual independence so we have a starting point to become self sufficient." Again, Piltover was literally about to let Zaun gain their independence, and while none of the previous council members that agreed to it are there, Mel is/was. Who's to say she didn't help negotiate for Sevika to sit on the council and start (or complete!) the Zaun independence process before she left for Noxus? I can't imagine Sevika would just show up to the table and sit there if she didn't have a damn good reason. Like come on now. This woman has seen first-hand what Piltover is capable of and does not like them nor looks like she wants to be there. But she's seen what Piltover has done to her people first-hand, and after learning from both Vander and Silco, this is how she feels she can best protect her people.

She IS the new leader of Zaun and their ambassador at the council.

And lastly, we've been told that some characters will be returning in future League animations. Mel seems like an absolute given, but what about Sevika? Zaun's story is only just beginning, and yeah they said they'd like to branch out to other regions, that doesn't mean a cameo or maybe another medium can't be used to continue that story (a book, perhaps??).

Anyway yeah those are my thoughts...

[letters-to-rosie]

Rosie!!!! Ep 7 had me pointing at the screen like that Leo DiCaprio gif when Jinx lit the match to blow up the bar and during the sweet Timebomb moment on the roof!!! I was like JUST LIKE ROSIE SAID AAAAHHHHHHH even timebomb only being possible in an AU is in line with that i think. AND you are giving us the revolution plot the show didn't!!

lol timebomb and roofs name a more iconic duo

the funny thing about the parallel is that Jinx is doing this tearful goodbye to a place that's been a home to her for so long and was owned by two successive fathers whose deaths she had a hand in and feels responsible for. and revolution!Powder is like "Ekko pissed me off" lmao. not to trivialize her feelings, because it's certainly more than that, but she didn't come there to destroy it initially. it's this explosion of all this pain and anger that then is released when she and Ekko fight in the alley. it's so much less deliberate than Jinx in the show. it was interesting for me to watch too lol I was like heyyyyyy I wrote something vaguely like that

I do wish the show hadn't given us the feeling that timebomb was only possible in an AU, just because it also explicitly shows us that Jinx heals when she has people to care for. I think Isha's death is to suggest that she'll never be anyone's true protector, but it really shouldn't have to be that way. because Jinx keeps saving people all throughout the season. Ekko even says her inventions change the world. and there's so much work to do in rebuilding Zaun and making it its own thing that Jinx could be a big part of. work that Ekko himself is going to be doing. this is all to say that we should've gotten Firelight Jinx lol. we kinda did with the final teamup, but we didn't get to see it, and that's a shame. I think that would have been a very natural ending for her, to hide away and then live amongst the people who have become her people. but noooooo we can't have nice things lol

and that kinda segues into the business of the revolution. I did figure that the two sides of the city would have to team up to fight off Ambessa, though I couldn't have seen her alliance with Viktor coming (though it makes sense given Singed's lore, in a convoluted way). really not a fan of how at the end of the show most of the problems that were present at the beginning as far as class and inequality go are left intact. the only real difference is that Zaun has some leverage, but not much. but this does align with my critiques of the first season having some pretty neoliberal underpinnings. the second season just doubles down on that super hard in a frustrating way

for me, a big part of why I wanted to do the fic is because the show gave me a world in which it was really easy to talk about a lot of issues I'm very serious about, and because I could see Jinx/Powder turning into a leader, even if not in a conventional sense, through traits that were evident even before season 2's direction was revealed to us. it's kinda crazy how it's so easy to forget that Ambessa only had such an easy in because of the oppression Piltover had been perpetuating against its poorer half the whole time. it's a good example of how oppression is dangerous for the oppressor as well (very Pedagogy of the Oppressed-core of me but it's me lol)

this got long anyway hope you're doing well!! we should talk soon!

fic we're discussing is here if anyone wants it

[11queensupreme11]

What would it be like if the Gods, adults not children, know all this about Percy being from another universe and everything he's going to have to go through and somehow they end up meeting a 12-year-old Percy? I'm talking about a Percy before the field trip to the museum with Mrs. Dotts, which is to say when he didn't know anything about the Gods.

this whole thing just reminds me of this final fantasy 7 ao3 fanfic where everyone got sent back to the past AND remembered what happened... EXCEPT CLOUD and they were all frantically planning on a way to train this poor kid on how to save the world in case sephiroth goes insane again while simultaneously not telling him cuz they didn't want him to remember all his trauma 😭😭😭

(also if anyone knows which fic this, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK CUZ I FORGOT THE TITLE AND AUTHOR AND I WANNA READ IT AGAIN!!!!)

anyway, if they got isekai-ed to percy's universe in the past AND THEY KNOW what's gonna happen to her, they are absolutely gonna scramble for a way to get back to their universe with percy in order to prevent The Plot from happening 😭😭😭😭

like "hell fucking no my baby is NOT going through any of that!!!!" 😭😭😭😭

i can't even blame them cuz imagine finding this tiny lil 12 year old girl, the de-aged version of someone you love so very much, and KNOWING she's about to go through some traumatizing shit soon and you have the chance to save her from that? they're gonna do whatever it takes to save her from that awful fate!!

poseidon is straight up kidnapping her, getting a child leash, and tethering her to him while he frantically tries to find a way to access the bifrost and send them back home, meanwhile he's got a feral 12 year old trying to gnaw through the leash 💀

hades definitely feels bad for kidnapping her from her poor mother, BUT IT'S FOR PERCY'S OWN GOOD, HE SWEARS!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 he's absolutely not gonna go to any of the gods for help because he's seen their buffoonery and wants no part of it, so it's up to him to find a way back home!!

beelzebub's not gonna bother with a child leash, after he kidnaps her he's whipping out the cuffs again cuz those have a shorter chain AND she can't gnaw them off 💀 probably gives up on the handcuffs tho when she somehow manages to break them and ends up just lugging her around like this:

apollo's gonna be such a nervous wreck. he does NOT want to kidnap her, he would prefer it if she just comes with him willingly but it comes off SO sus like "hi there little girl! do you want some candy? i'm trying to save ur life pls trust me" and percy may be 12 but she's not STUPID, so she goes "stranger danger" and runs away and now he has no choice but to kidnap her while he tries to find a way back 😭

loki's more subtle at first. he'll kill of mrs. dodds, chiron, and grover and shapeshift to become percy's new math teacher to replace dodds. he knows he still has some time before The Plot hits, so he's not TOO panicked rn and when he's not pretending to be a math teacher, he spends his time snooping around asgard to try and figure out how their bifrost works to send them both home. killing those three ^ eliminates the whole field trip issue, but you know, Fates 💀 ofc they find a way to make The Plot keep going so yeah, loki snaps and kidnaps her to keep her safe

i promise you, ten minutes into anubis' arrival in the pjo verse, the news article "freakishly tall furry man kidnaps child from yancy academy -- local furry community claims no ties to the kidnapper" is gonna spread around like wildfire 💀 he is absolutely gonna kidnap her is probably gonna spend most of the time freaking the fuck out instead of actually trying to find a way back home

cú chulainn's got it a little harder. yes he can easily kidnap her, but he's not a god. he's been blessed with his adoptive father's abilities, but he can't like... teleport, be in multiple places at once, easily search the universe in case percy runs away, etc. so he tries to be more discreet about it like loki by killing off mrs dodds and any monsters that come percy's way. he'll try to find a way to the bifrost too, but it'll be more difficult for obvious reasons. it's once The Plot hits does he finally say fuck it and just joins her to keep her close while trying to find a way to access the norse pantheon

[saythenametotheworld]

Foolish One | h.rj

A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?

ONE | two | three | four | five

Genre: crush-at-first-sight, college AU Pairing: Huang Renjun x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, language, the plot is dragged out a bit lol Notes: 17k words. Part 1 of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Genuinely, let me know what you guys think of this. I am very open-minded to constructive criticism. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: 1 2 3 by NCT DREAM, Risk by Gracie Abrams, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift, Foolish One by Taylor Swift

The campus library was quieter than you expected for a Tuesday afternoon during exam week, the kind of silence that made your every move feel amplified and noticeable. You were feeling self-conscious, wondering if everyone was noticing you standing awkwardly at the front desk while the librarian refused to check out the book you wanted to borrow. But the embarrassment didn’t bother you as much as the growing panic in your chest. You really needed this book right now so you could do a last minute study before your exam in thirty minutes.

Clutching a notebook against your chest, you gave the librarian a pleading look. “Please? Just this once?”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that without your student ID,” the librarian said, her tone polite but firm. “You know how it works right? We need it for the record.”

You gave a tight smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Isn’t there any way to bypass that? I mean, don’t you have librarian privileges, something like that? Please, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get to my apartment for my ID, and another fifteen to come back here.”

The librarian sighed, taking her glasses off and setting it down on her desk. She gave you a stern look. “I know you’re desperate, but I can’t just bend the rules even if I want to. Especially not for a student who’s negligent enough to forget her ID at home when you should be carrying it on your person at all times.”

You were about to protest when a smooth and calm voice spoke from behind you. “Here use mine.”

You turned to see a boy holding out his ID card. Silvery blond hair brushed lightly across his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the library lights. The thin-framed glasses resting on his nose didn’t hide the sharp clarity in his gaze—calm, observant, and entirely unbothered by the chaos you were exuding. His expression was calm as if lending his card to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made you even more flustered.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at him. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you’re about to cry.”

Letting out a sheepish laugh, you took the card and handed it to the librarian. “I mean, I was just about to, actually,” you quipped.

It didn’t even take two minutes for the librarian to check out the book. You returned his ID, your gaze catching his name—Huang Renjun—before handing it back.

“Here. And, uh, thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling before taking his turn to check out his books. “Good luck with your exam.”

“Thanks. You too,” you replied. As he went to talk to the librarian, you stood there for a moment, hesitating, wanting to say more, or to ask him something—anything—but you had stuff to do. The exam wasn’t going to study itself.

You rushed out of the library, muttering his name under your breath and telling yourself not to forget about the cute boy with the silvery blond hair and an ID he didn’t hesitate to lend.

It’s your second semester as a freshman, and so far, you could say you weren’t the type of student to get caught up in the grind of academics. You took up Liberal Arts out of necessity instead of passion. After highschool, you didn’t have a clear-cut direction or dream job in mind, but you knew you had to go to college so you picked something that left the options open, hoping that eventually, you’d figure it out.

When it comes to academics, you do just enough to get by. Your grades are respectable but nothing extraordinary. You’re not taking things for granted—you just didn’t see the point in staying up all night studying or stressing over perfect grades. Even with average grades, as long as you passed, that was good enough for you. While you respected those who worked hard to excel in their academics, you didn’t feel the need to compete with them. You weren’t interested in pushing yourself that far.

Your friends often teased you about it, calling you laid-back or lazy, but they understood. You didn’t need to be at the top of the class to feel content. You just gave enough to get by, balancing school and the rest of your life without too much strain. You figured most people probably felt the same way—just doing enough, hoping things would eventually fall into place.

“How are you feeling?” Karina asked Giselle, her eyes full of concern. The two of them sat beside you on the mat you’d spread out on the grass in the quad.

They were your housemates—your friends, too—living in the big apartment you all shared. You’d met them at the start of the school year, and sharing a space together had made it easy to grow close.

Giselle sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Not any better. I think the medicine’s not doing anything.”

You rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. “Just give it some time. If it gets worse, you can rest at home. I’ll make you some healthy soup.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You can’t cook.”

You laughed, shrugging casually. “How hard can it be? I’m a fast learner.”

Jaemin, who had been sitting across from you, snickered. “Shut up. You can’t even tell the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini.”

You gasped dramatically, scooting away from him, glaring. “You shut up! You used to follow me around like a puppy when we were kids. Stop acting like you’re the smart one.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “We were fourteen, not kids.”

You smirked. “Doesn’t change the fact that you followed me around like a lost puppy.”

Jaemin crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “I’m just making things clear because I don’t want to sit here and watch you rewrite the facts in front of your friends. And just for the record, I was lost at the time.”

Karina turned to Giselle. “How does anyone confuse zucchini with cucumber?”

Giselle just shrugged, unimpressed.

You shot them both a look. “In my defense, they look exactly the same!”

The two stared at you, shaking their heads in perfect unison. It was almost comical. “No, they don’t,” Giselle said flatly.

“They really don’t,” Karina agreed.

You were about to fire back when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. That unmistakable side profile, the silvery hair catching the sunlight just right. “Huang Renjun,” you blurted out, your voice almost dreamy as your gaze followed him.

“Huang who?” Giselle asked, turning to follow your line of sight. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, the guy from the library?”

“Yes!” you gasped, clasping your hands over your mouth like you’d just seen a celebrity. “See? I told you he’s cute.”

“You’re right, he totally is,” Karina chimed in, sharing the same gleeful smile as you and Giselle.

“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Jaemin leaned closer, his curiosity piqued.

You grinned, leaning toward him like you were about to spill the juiciest secret. “He’s the guy who saved my ass yesterday.”

All eyes shifted back to Renjun, who stood by the library talking to a group of students. From this distance, you could see the bright smile on his face as he laughed at something his friend said. He looked so effortlessly friendly, so unbothered—and something about that gave you butterflies.

Giselle nudged your arm, eyes glinting with mischief. “Go say ‘hi’!”

“No way!” you hissed, snapping your head toward her. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

You stayed rooted to your spot, feeling your friends’ teasing remarks rain down on you like playful jabs. They nudged and prodded, daring you to make a move, but you could only keep your eyes on Renjun. He lingered outside the library for a few minutes before finally stepping inside, disappearing through the double doors. Before you could think too much, your body moved on autopilot.

“I'll be back,” you mumbled to your friends, brushing off their teasing ‘oooh’s as you hurried across the quad. They exchanged knowing looks, grinning like they’d already won some secret bet, but you ignored them and followed him.  

Inside the library, the cool, quiet air made you pause. You spotted Renjun by the window just as he was sitting down at a vacant desk. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you approached him.

“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your voice wobble just enough to make you cringe.

Renjun turned, his expression neutral at first before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said with a small smile. “What’s up?”  

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, clutching the book in your hands like it was a lifeline. “I was going to return this today, so I’m gonna have to bother you again with your ID to check it in.” You laughed nervously, hoping the self-deprecation would make up for how awkward you felt.  

Renjun’s smile widened just slightly. “Sure, don’t worry about it. It would’ve been worse if you didn’t.” he teased lightly. Before you could answer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own card. “Here.”

“Didn’t want a loaned book to hold your GPA back at the end of the semester, right?” you quipped, taking the card from his hand. Renjun chuckled as he nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you added before turning to head to the front desk.

After the book was returned, you skipped over to Renjun’s desk and thanked him for his help. He seemed busy with something, so he just told you you were welcome before returning to his task. Meanwhile, you found yourself lingering. The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave and not push your luck, but the louder part was convincing you to stay.

You spotted a vacant desk next to Renjun’s, so you slid into a seat, pulling out your laptop and the notes for a class paper you were gonna start. The paper wasn’t due until next week, but you needed an excuse—a reason to stay within Renjun’s orbit. So you started typing, glancing at your screen for a few seconds before inevitably stealing a look at him. He was sitting a few tables away, scribbling in a notebook, his expression focused.  He looked extra cute by the window, a soft beam of sunlight catching his hair and his flawless skin as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the absentminded way he twirled his pen—it was like he didn’t even realize how distractingly handsome he was. Then again, maybe it was just in your eyes because there was no denying the fact that you were immensely infatuated by him.

You were mid-sentence in your essay when you stole another glance. But he glanced up just as your gaze lingered a second too long. Your eyes darted back to your screen so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash. Too late, you’d been caught red-handed already. Still, you couldn’t help yourself from doing it again, making sure to be more subtle this time—only to fail at it.

The second time he caught you looking, he held your gaze for a second longer, one eyebrow lifting in silent amusement. By the third or fourth time, he set his pen down, leaned back slightly, and called out softly, “Am I distracting you from your work?”  

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t—” You fumbled, searching for an excuse. “I was just… looking around. Yes. I’m looking around as I think.”

Renjun chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I see. I thought I had something on my head,” he said, gesturing over his head.  

You huffed, flustered, and busied yourself with your notes, hoping to regain your composure. To your surprise, Renjun didn’t let the moment hang awkwardly. Instead, he asked casually, “What are you working on?”  

“Oh,” you said, grateful for the topic shift. “It’s an essay for a philosophy class.”  

He tilted his head, curious. “Which one?”  

You named the subject, and his expression brightened. “I took that last semester,” he said. “Professor Lee, right?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed.

Renjun nodded thoughtfully. ““Well, then you don’t need to worry much. She’s really chill. She’s not the kind of professor who’ll mark you down for having a different opinion, so you can pretty much write how you actually feel about the topic.”  

His words surprised you. “Really?”  

“Really,” he said with a nod. “She actually encourages it. Just make sure you explain your points well. She likes a good argument.”  

You found yourself smiling, his advice easing some of the stress you hadn’t realized you were carrying about the essay. “Thanks. That’s actually very helpful.”  

“No problem.” He picked up his pen again, flashing you one last smile before returning to his notes.  

And just like that, you had one more reason to stay a little longer. You continued writing your paper, making sure you did it well and explained your points clearly. Occasionally, you would glance up at him, grinning to yourself at how attractive he looked when he was focusing. You didn’t need to talk after that. You wanted to, but you couldn’t find the right timing nor the right topic. By the time your phone alarm went off for your next class, you were already halfway through your essay.

Standing up to gather your things, you gave Renjun another glance, debating whether to say goodbye. The idea of walking off without a word felt odd, but you worried a goodbye might seem too eager, too obvious. So you hesitated—just long enough for him to notice.

“Done already?” Renjun asked, tilting his head slightly.

““No! Not yet.” Your response came faster than you intended. “I mean, I have to go to class, so… I’ll finish later.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If you need help with that paper, let me know. Maybe I can offer some pointers.”

The offer caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was blink at him.

Renjun seemed to realize how it sounded, and his hand darted up to rub the back of his neck. “Wait, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like—uh—it wasn’t supposed to sound—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That was kind of arrogant, wasn’t it?”

“No! Not at all!” you said quickly, shaking your head with more enthusiasm than you intended. “I mean, I would definitely let you know if I needed help.”

His laughter softened, and he ducked his head slightly, as though embarrassed. “Well, now it sounds like I think I’m a genius or something.”

“Renjun, stop. You’re fine,” you assured him, a smile creeping onto your face. And you meant it. There was something unexpectedly charming about his fumbling attempt to explain himself.

He hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, “What’s your name?”

You blinked again. “Sorry?”

“I just realized… you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he explained, the tips of his ears noticeably pink.

“Oh!” You told him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath—not once, but twice, as though memorizing every syllable.

When he looked up at you, his smile was soft, almost boyish. “Nice to meet you. You should get to class before you’re late.”

“Right. Yeah. Um, see you around,” you said, clutching your bag tightly and walking out before you said something embarrassingly incoherent.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let the grin you’d been holding back take over. It was silly, how a few awkward exchanges could make your heart race like this. For the first time in a long while, it felt less like fleeting, hormone-driven infatuation and more like a genuinely innocent crush.

For the next few days, the library became your favorite spot, and it definitely wasn’t just because of your paper. Whether it was morning or late afternoon, you found yourself there, trying to catch glimpses of Renjun. Sometimes he was already settled in when you arrived, headphones on and pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. Other times, you got there first and watched the door with anticipation.

You made it a point to sit near him whenever you could. If the spot next to him was taken, you’d find a table within view. Eventually, you started interacting a bit more, small moments that shouldn’t have felt significant but somehow they did.

Like the time you dropped your pen and Renjun leaned down to retrieve it, handing it to you with a quiet, “Here you go.” 

His fingers brushed yours briefly, and though it lasted less than a second, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Another time, while unpacking your bag, your water bottle rolled off the table. Renjun caught it mid-fall and handed it back with an amused smile. “Careful, your bag is out for sabotage today,” he joked.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not when you’re here to save the day,” you retorted, feeling proud of your quick and witty response.

Then there was the time you walked past him on your way to the shelves, and he looked up, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a polite gesture—but it left you grinning like an idiot as you pretended to browse the books, replaying the moment in your head.

One morning, Renjun sneezed, and you instinctively murmured, “Bless you.” He glanced at you, surprised but touched. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, his smile warm enough to make you forget where you were.

Each interaction, however small, only made you more drawn to him. One day, Giselle decided to tag along, claiming she needed to ‘see this Renjun guy’ for herself. The two of you walked into the library, and sure enough, he was already there, engrossed in his notes. Giselle wasted no time making her move, striding right up to him with her trademark confidence.

“Hi! You’re Renjun, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but direct.

Renjun looked up, startled but polite. “Uh, yeah. Do I know you?”

“No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Ningning?”

Renjun’s expression softened at the mention of Ningning, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, yeah, Ningning.”

“How is she? I haven’t seen her since last semester.”

You watched the exchange from a few steps away, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Giselle was handling the conversation so effortlessly, but you couldn’t help but worry about how this would make you look.

After chatting for a minute, Giselle turned to you and grinned. “Nice to meet you, we’ll leave you to it. Or, actually,” she gestured to the empty seat across from Renjun, “do you mind if we sit here?”

Renjun shook his head. “No. Go ahead.”

Giselle gave you a pointed look as the two of you sat down, clearly proud of herself for setting this up. That day, you ended up sitting with Renjun without needing an excuse. Giselle paved the way with her easy conversation, dropping Ningning’s name enough times to turn the awkward encounter into something comfortable. She only stayed for about twenty minutes before leaving, claiming she had other things to do. 

“Good luck with your paper!” she called out, leaving you alone with Renjun. You chatted a lot more than usual then, and you were giddy and smiling the whole time.

The moment that truly melted you, though, happened on a particularly busy day. The library was unusually crowded, and you could not find a vacant seat. You were about to leave for the day when you spotted a hand waving in the air. It took you a second to realize it was Renjun, beckoning you over to the seat next to him.

The sight made your stomach flutter, sending a wholesome kind of warmth through you. You didn’t even hesitate, smiling as you walked through the maze of desks and sat down next to him. “Hi! This place is full full.”

“I know. It’s not even exam week,” he replied while you were setting your stuff down. Then he gestured to the side of the table where his books were sprawled. “Do you need more space? I can move these.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but the gesture made your chest flutter all the same.

It was almost the deadline for your paper, and while you were hoping you could use that as an excuse to sit with him that day, it seemed unnecessary now. Still, you thought it would be best to ask for his help while you were there.

“I’m taking you up on that offer today,” you began, hoping your cheerfulness would mask the nervousness you were feeling.

“Finally,” he quipped back, closing his book as he watched you open your laptop beside him. “I was starting to feel embarrassed about that offer. I was thinking you never really needed help and I was being arrogant.”

“Oh, stop it,” you huffed, toggling to the paper in your device. “Here. Would you mind taking a look at my draft? Just to see if it makes sense?”

Instead of tugging the laptop toward him, as you normally would, Renjun scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he leaned over your screen. He read it as it was, eyes scanning your words with quiet focus. Probably too focused to even notice you holding your breath beside him, heart racing in your chest at the sudden proximity.

“This is good,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful. “But here, maybe you could elaborate more on this point. And this—” he gestured to another part, “—is strong, but you could link it back to this statement more clearly.”  

You nodded, though most of his advice went over your head because your brain was too busy short-circuiting over how close he was. The scent of his cologne, the way his lips moved as he explained something you didn’t catch—all of it was impossibly distracting.

When he leaned back, you snapped out of your daze enough to say, “Thanks. That was really helpful.”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, flashing a small smile. “If you need help again, just let me know—so long as it’s something I actually know.”  

And then he added, almost offhandedly, “It’s nice studying with someone.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment. “Maybe we could be study buddies?” you offered, trying to sound as casual as you could.

Renjun looked at you for a second, then nodded. “You know what? Maybe we should be study buddies.”

Ever since you moved away for college, you’d grown to enjoy three things: first, the independence of doing things on your own time without having to consider family members; second, experiencing a city so different from the hometown where you’d spent most of your life; and lastly, going to parties without a curfew.

These might sound shallow to some people, and honestly, you thought so too. Then again, you’d happily admit that you weren’t a profound kind of girl.  Growing up, you’d always been easy to please—and just as easy to disappoint. You wore your heart on your sleeve, never bothering to bottle up your feelings or hide your opinions. It helped that you were outgoing, the kind of person who cared more about your own well being than having beef with other people, so you never really had to fight anyone.

That being said, you liked to keep your circle small, only making friends with people you like and keeping a civil relationship with everyone else. With your small circle of friends—only Giselle, Karina, and Jaemin—it was easy to just tell them everything about you.

But tonight, even that small circle couldn’t make this party feel less exhausting.

“Girl, you did not come here just to stay invisible in a corner,” Karina sighed, towering over you on the lumpy corner couch while you sipped from a red plastic cup.

“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, be normal? You’re more fun than this,” she retorted, squeezing herself into the seat next to you. “Don’t make me sound like your mom, but it’s like you’re not even trying tonight. You’re usually the one dragging me into something embarrassing.”

“Yeah, but this is kinda boring, don’t you think?” you said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around you.

Music blared from the speakers, with strobe lights dancing in the ceilings and the floors all around you. Blending with the music were the sounds of people chatting and laughing animatedly. Students were either drunk or high, dancing in circles or hanging off each other. Even the air felt too heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, booze, and something you were pretty sure wasn’t tobacco.

Karina’s eyes widened like you’d just said something ridiculous. “Boring? This?” she scoffed, throwing her hands up at the lively crowd.

You grinned at her over the rim of your cup. “Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but you noticed the corner of her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. The two of you must have looked ridiculous, crammed onto the tiny couch while the rest of the party swirled around you.

“Where’s Gigi, anyway?” Karina asked, scanning the crowd.

You leaned to the side, spotting Giselle at the bar. She was laughing with a guy who was practically draped over her, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something that made her toss her hair back and giggle.

“She’s having fun,” you said, nodding toward her.

“At least one of us is,” Karina grumbled.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here and look lonely with me. I was doing a good enough job of it by myself,” you teased, nudging her shoulder.

Before she could retort, Jaemin appeared between the two of you, crouching slightly so he could speak right into your ears. “Long faces at a party? You two are ruining the vibe.”

“Go away,” Karina grumbled, shoving Jaemin’s face with her palm.

Undeterred, Jaemin grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with a devilish grin. “I know why you’re sulking. Forget about him; he’s not coming.”

“You little—” Karina tried to yank her hand back, but Jaemin held on, wagging his head as if scolding her.

Turning his attention to you, he asked, “And you? What’s your excuse? Hungry? Sleepy? Time of the month? Which is it?”

“What are you even talking about?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin narrowed his eyes like he’d caught you in a lie. “You do know that it’s weirder to see you idle at a party than when you’re throwing it back on the dance floor, right?”

You shrugged, taking another sip from your cup. “Can’t a girl take a break from all that?”

Karina, finally prying her hand free, leaned back with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this? Less activity from her means less work for you.”

Jaemin stood upright like he’d just had a light bulb moment. It was also then that Giselle came bounding over excitedly. “Jeno. Jeno. Jeno,” she chanted, pointing toward the staircase.

Your ears perked up as you followed her gaze. There he was—Lee Jeno—locked in a steamy makeout session with a pretty girl you’d seen around before.

Karina gave you a sidelong glance, her voice cautious. “Are you seeing that right now?”

“I am,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “What a fuckboy.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, nudging your arm. “Yet you still like him, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Him being a fuckboy doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.”

Karina cringed dramatically. “Your judgment is so questionable.”

Jaemin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hold up. What’s going on? Do you have a thing for Lee Jeno too?” When you grinned instead of answering, he groaned, shaking his head. “Just how many crushes do you have, woman?”

Honestly, only two—Jeno and Renjun. But these days, Renjun had the edge. Jeno might’ve been the one who flirted with you last semester, but lately, you couldn’t help but swoon over Renjun’s quieter, more thoughtful charm.

“I like Renjun more,” you confessed. “He’s just the complete opposite of Jeno. I kinda wish he were here. Though I know this isn’t really his scene.”

“Girl, doesn’t it bother you that you like two completely different types of guys at the same time?” Karina asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in mock exasperation. “Girl, does it matter?”

For a while, you stayed in the corner, sipping your drink and chatting with your friends. But as the minutes ticked by, the infectious energy of the crowd started pulling you in. Soon you were getting up from the couch and joining the thrumming crowd, Karina trailing behind you.

Giselle and Jaemin quickly found their own adventures—Giselle gravitating back toward the bar, her giggles disappearing into the noise, and Jaemin vanishing somewhere toward the dance floor. That left you and Karina sticking close, both of you weaving through the chaos as you searched for the makeshift minibar.

That’s when Donghyuck appeared.

The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you going home with me after this, or should we just skip the formalities and head back to my place now?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Pass.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “The bathroom’s closer if my place is too far for you.”

“Isn’t your place Mark Lee’s place?” you shot back. “Hard pass.”

Donghyuck’s grin widened like he’d been waiting for you to say that. “Aw, still sore about getting rejected by Mark?”

“I wasn’t rejected,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Sure it was,” he drawled, leaning in closer. “But lucky for you, Mark’s not coming home tonight. Think of it as a golden opportunity.”

“Dude, she’s just not that into you,” Karina cut in, her tone flat as she rolled her eyes.

Donghyuck turned to her with a theatrical gasp. “I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking back at you and winking playfully.

You felt a chill run down your spine—not the kind caused by fear or disgust, but the kind that made your skin tingle and sent heat between your thighs. It was infuriating how easily Lee Donghyuck could pull that off, and even more infuriating that your body had the nerve to respond.

But you’d sooner gouge your own eyes out than admit that to him. “Go away, Hyuck,” you said, shoving him lightly with your free hand.

He laughed, stepping back just enough to give you space but staying close enough to remain a nuisance. “See you later, then.”

As he walked off, Karina gave you a side-eye. “You’re not hanging out with that guy, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you lied, taking another sip of your drink and avoiding her gaze.

“Good. That guy is nothing but trouble,” she replied, glancing back at Donghyuck who had now found another girl to bother.

The next morning, you woke up to the sharp ring of your alarm blaring in your ears. Disoriented, you reached out blindly to silence it, only for your hand to slap the cold, hard floor. Floor? You groaned, peeling your cheek off the surface and wincing at the sticky residue clinging to your skin. Why were you on the floor?

Your head pounded mercilessly, a dull ache that only grew worse as you sat up and tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Your phone buzzed on the table, and when you reached for it, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the black screen: mascara smudged, hair in complete disarray, and a faint red mark on your forehead where you must have hit something.

“Crap,” you muttered, staring at the time. You had twenty minutes to make it to your study session with Renjun!

Scrambling to your feet, you almost tripped over your own feet on your way to the bathroom. No matter how tight your schedule was, you must not skip taking a shower before going out today because you stink. So you stepped under the shower head, using cold water on purpose in hopes that the freezing water would jolt you into wakefulness. You scrubbed your face like it would erase the remnants of last night’s chaos.

What even was last night’s chaos?

Snippets of loud music, flashing lights, and Donghyuck’s smirk popped into your mind, but you shoved them aside. You could recall every bit of last night if you tried hard enough, but there was no time to dwell on your questionable life choices. You threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed your bag, and sprinted out the door, hair still damp and heart pounding.

When you reached the library, you were breathing hard, and the cold air made your headache even worse. The library was almost deserted. Pulling out your phone, you texted Renjun to let him know you’d made it, only for his reply to make you cringe.

Renjun: Love your enthusiasm, but aren’t you an hour too early? 😀

The realization came with shame: you were way too eager. There was no other way to spin it. You sat down at a random table, trying to blend into the background despite the fact that the library was far from crowded. You spent the next few minutes scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself from the embarrassment you were feeling inside.

Ten minutes later, Renjun walked in, his usual calm demeanor intact. When he spotted you, he smiled and quickened his pace. “Hi,” he greeted, setting his bag down across from you.

“Hi,” you greeted back, moving your bag out of the desk. “Aren’t we supposed to meet later?”

“Yeah, but you’re already here, so might as well,” he replied, shrugging. “This works better for me, actually, since I have errands later.”

“We could always reschedule, you know?” you suggested, though that was far from what you were feeling inside. “And did you rush here? You look out of breath.”

“Ah.” Renjun chuckled as he grabbed his water bottle and took a huge sip. “I didn’t want you to wait too long, so I rushed out,” he said after a drink.

His words caught you off guard. He looked so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of him rushing because of you warmed your chest.

From that day on, Renjun always sat with you during your study sessions. It wasn’t something you planned, but it became an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a rhythm that settled into place without either of you needing to say a word.

Small gestures like him offering his pen when yours ran out of ink felt special, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. It was just convenience, you told yourself, but the way his hand lingered a second too long or the faint smile he’d flash before going back to his notes made it impossible not to wonder.

He’d text you ahead of time if the library was packed, letting you know he’d saved you a seat or that you should just reschedule. You’d thank him, trying to sound casual, but your chest always felt lighter seeing his name light up your screen.

Over time, your study sessions became less about the textbooks and more about getting to know the little things that made Renjun… Renjun. He was a linguistics student who could explain the quirks of syntax or the history of a word with an enthusiasm that made you want to listen, even when you weren’t entirely interested. He liked sci-fi movies—ones with confusing plots and bizarre visuals—and he’d binge them whenever he wasn’t drowning in assignments.

You noticed he had a birthmark on the back of his hand—grayish with a hint of purple, like a bruise that never faded. The first time you commented on it, asking if he’d hurt himself, he chuckled and said, “It’s been there since I was a kid.”

Sometimes, when he was particularly focused, his brows would furrow and his lips would press into a pout that you found annoyingly endearing. You’d have to stop yourself from staring too long, afraid he’d catch you.

Renjun had this habit of quietly humming under his breath while writing notes. It was so soft you almost missed it, but once you noticed, you couldn’t unhear it. When you teased him about it one day, he laughed, embarrassed, but the sound of his laughter stuck with you long after the session ended.

It was in these in-between moments that you realized how much you looked forward to spending time with him—not just as a study buddy, but as someone who made the world feel a little less ordinary.

One afternoon, you caught him sketching in the margins of his notebook while you took notes. His pencil moved with a quiet confidence, tracing lines and curves that turned into an intricate little doodle.

“Is that what you do when you’re bored?” you asked, leaning over to get a better look.

Renjun quickly covered the drawing with his hand, chuckling nervously. “It’s nothing. Just a habit.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “A habit? You’re pretty good.”

He gave you a small smile but didn’t seem convinced by your words.

“I mean it,” you insisted, giving him a sincere look.

He hesitated before glancing down at his notebook. “Thanks,” he said softly, opening his notebook again. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Are you kidding me? Yes!” you giggled, leaning closer to take a look. “I love visual arts. It’s like something I wish I could do but since I don’t have the talent for it, I just settle with appreciating it.”

“Well, I don’t have the talent either. It’s just a hobby,” he replied while you were flipping through the pages of his notebook, admiring the small doodles on the margins.

“You’re too modest,” you chimed, impressed by the effortless beauty of his cute, almost cartoonish art. “I think you’re really good at this.”

Encouraged by your sincerity, he opened up a little. “I liked drawing as a kid. I used to think I’d pursue it as a career, but, you know, priorities. I have a vision of an ideal future which seemed difficult to achieve if I chose art.”

You frowned. “That’s kinda sad.”

He quickly shook his head, his tone light. “I don’t feel that way about it, though. It’s not like I’m completely banned from making art. I’m just putting it on hold for now.”

You watched him closely, noting the way his expression shifted between wistfulness and acceptance. The way he brushed it off so easily tugged at something in you. “Well,” you said after a moment, “for what it’s worth, I think you should keep doing it. Even if it’s just for yourself.”

Renjun looked at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile that lingered a little too long. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, he sounded like he meant it.

“I think he likes you,” Karina said, sprawled across the couch, hugging a throw pillow with a dreamy grin on her face. “You’ve been spending so much time together lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you out soon.”

“Agreed,” Giselle added, flipping through a magazine that was clearly not as interesting as this topic. “He really should do it soon.”

You plopped down on the floor with a loud sigh, dramatically draping an arm over your eyes. “You think so?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaemin muttered from his spot on the carpet, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. “You’ve barely seen each other outside the library. For all you know, he’s just being nice.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, lifting your arm to squint at him. “You don’t see the way he looks at me with this little smile, like…” You mimicked an exaggerated dreamy face.

Karina giggled. “You’re so delusional. It’s cute, though.”

Giselle joined in. “Yeah, the way you’ve been acting lately is straight out of a high school drama. You, of all people, getting excited about study sessions? Who are you?”

“Hey, I’ve always been academically inclined!” you defended, sitting up.

Jaemin snorted. “Cramming at 3 a.m. doesn’t count as ‘academically inclined.’”

You threw a popcorn kernel at him, which he dodged with an annoyingly smug grin. “For your information,” you said, pointing at him with mock indignation, “I’ve been taking notes. Like, actual, color-coded, neat notes. With highlighters.”

“Oh no,” Giselle gasped, feigning horror. “The highlighters! It’s worse than we thought!”

“It’s called being responsible,” you huffed, crossing your arms with a proud smirk.

“It’s called being whipped,” Jaemin corrected, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re basically studying because you’re hoping he’ll think you’re smart and fall for you.”

“First of all,” you said, holding up a finger, “Renjun already knows I’m smart.”

Jaemin snorted.

“Second of all,” you continued, ignoring him, “this newfound work ethic has nothing to do with him.”

“Right,” Giselle drawled, shooting Jaemin a look.

“Absolutely nothing,” you repeated with a grin, tossing popcorn into your own mouth.

“Guys, give her a break,” Karina chided softly, though she was grinning playfully too. “Isn’t it good that she’s motivated?”

Giselle snickered, giving you a mischievous side eye. “Anyone would be motivated if they’re being promised some di—”

You cut her off by shoving popcorn in her mouth. “I haven’t been promised anything.”

Giselle chewed her food quickly and started poking your sides. “You’re grinning so hard your face is gonna crack.”

You laughed, playfully swatting her hand away. “I just think it’s nice, okay? To have a study buddy who, like, actually cares if I pass my exams. Unlike some people.” You gave Jaemin a pointed look.

“Hey, I care,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think you should fool yourself into thinking it’s anything more than studying.”

Karina laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I think it’s sweet. It’s cute seeing you so motivated, even if it is…” she trailed off, glancing at Giselle.

“Dick-motivated,” she finished bluntly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re so gross,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Giselle shrugged. 

“I will say this, though, if it’s making you study harder, maybe it’s not the worst thing. We’re freshmen, so you can still pave the way for yourself to graduate with flying colors,” Jaemin added, wiggling his eyebrows. “But you guys need to go out of that library first. Go to the quad for a change. Maybe get coffee together or something.”

“Jaemin,” you said, resting your chin on your hand with an exaggerated pout, “why would I need coffee when Renjun already gives me a caffeine rush by just existing?”

Giselle cackled. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” you declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor with a hand over your heart.

Karina shook her head, laughing. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“You love me anyway.”

Jaemin groaned. “No, seriously. Stop living in your fantasy world and ask him to hang out. Outside. Of. The. Library.”

You peeked up at him with a mischievous grin. “But what if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to confess? What if he’s just as nervous as I am?”

“Then you’re both pathetic,” Giselle deadpanned, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” you said with mock seriousness. “When we finally get together, I’ll make sure to invite you to the wedding.”

Giselle and Jaemin groaned again, this time louder. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this,” Jaemin complained.

You just laughed, the giddy, teenage-like crush bubbling over until it spilled out of you in the form of exaggerated dramatics. Maybe your friends were right, and you should try to take things further, but for now, you were perfectly content basking in the joy of it all—even if your friends never let you live it down.

However, it seemed like your friends weren’t the only ones bothered about the slow development in your relationship with Renjun. The universe too, knew that it was time for you to leave the safe confines of the campus library. 

It happened on a late Sunday afternoon. You walked into a café, expecting nothing more than a quiet moment with your usual overpriced latte. But then you spotted him—Renjun. He wore a soft expression that caught the golden light streaming through the window, his face almost glowing as he leaned over a notebook. He was sitting alone with a half-empty cup of coffee by his side, his pencil moving in quick, deliberate strokes.

You knew, logically, that Renjun didn’t spend every waking moment in the library. He had a life outside of it, of course. But seeing him in a place without the endless shelves of books and the soothing silence of the library around felt a little weird, in a good way. There was something oddly intimate about it, like you’d stumbled into a part of his life you had never seen before—and in a way, it really was something you hadn’t seen before. 

You were still rooted to the spot, trying to decide whether to turn around and flee or walk over and say hi, when Renjun glanced up—and noticed you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before his face broke into a small, easy smile. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, gesturing for you to come over.

Well, so much for running away, you thought to yourself as you waved back. You walked over, trying your best to seem like you weren’t overthinking every step. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile widening as he closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded light and not as jittery as you felt. You glanced around, pretending to take in the café like it wasn’t the hundredth time you’d been there. “I was just gonna grab some coffee but I didn’t expect to run into you here. No offense but I thought your all-time favorite place is the library.”

Renjun chuckled. “Not really. I like coming here when the library gets too quiet.”

You nodded, though his words sent your mind spiraling. He’d been here all this time, escaping the quiet of the library, while you’d been basking in it, thinking it was your shared haven.

“I see, so you come here often?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché you sounded.

Renjun nodded. “Not as often as I’d like. I get caught up in schoolwork most of the time. But when I do, this is my go-to spot.”

“Cool,” you replied, though you felt anything but. Your mind was screaming at you to think of something interesting to say but all you could do was nod.

“Do you want to join me?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The question caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stared at him like he’d asked you to solve an equation without a calculator—and you sucked at Math!

“Yeah, sure,” you said finally, sliding into the seat. As you settled in, the reality of the situation hit you—this was your chance! No library distractions, no pretense of study sessions. Just you and Renjun, in a cozy café, with nothing but time and the faint buzz of espresso machines between you. And suddenly, your usual crush-induced dramatics didn’t seem so silly anymore.

Renjun had this ability to make the simplest moments feel meaningful. Like when he offered to buy you coffee, even remembering your favorite drink—something you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if he paid this much attention to everyone or if you were, somehow, different—special, in a way. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe he was just polite. But maybe, just maybe, he actually cared.

The two of you talked about random things as the café buzzed quietly around you—favorite movies, weird study habits, how caffeine was both a blessing and a curse. Renjun listened intently, and just when you thought the conversation might drift into silence, he asked, “Why did you choose your major?”

The question caught you off guard, not because it was invasive but because of how thoughtful it was. It wasn’t something you expected to be asked over coffee. You paused, giving yourself a moment to consider your answer.

“I guess I just fell into it,” you admitted, twirling your straw. “It felt like the safe choice, you know? Like something I couldn’t go wrong with. But sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve picked something else. Something I’m actually passionate about.”

Renjun tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What would that be? If you could choose anything?”

You hesitated, surprised by his genuine interest. “I don’t know. I’m not really passionate about something in particular.”

“Well, you are interested in something though, right?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m interested in a lot of things, just not interested enough to pursue them.”

“Any hobbies?” he asked again, looking genuinely curious. “They said what you do in your free time says a lot about what you’re passionate about. Sometimes you don’t even realize it.”

“I don’t know if the things I do in my free time are considered hobbies.”

“That’s the general description of hobbies, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly. “Things you do in your free time?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I know. I do have hobbies and I tried looking at them to see which one would be interesting enough to pursue. Couldn’t decide on one. Everything just seems so generic.”

Renjun’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded like he understood. “I think a lot of people feel that way about the things they love. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled back, warmth blooming in your chest.

When you mentioned that you were on your way to the library to catch up on assignments, Renjun said he’d join you since he had nothing else to do. Your heart flipped at his casual offer, though your mind immediately began spiraling. Did he actually want to spend more time with you, or was it just convenient?

The evening passed in quiet companionship at the library. While you worked on your assignments, Renjun sketched in his notebook, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper. You stole glances at him, unable to help yourself. There was something peaceful about the way he was so focused, his  hair falling into his eyes as he worked. At some point, you asked to discuss your assignment with him, hoping to get his opinions on your stance.

When it was time to leave, Renjun offered to walk you home. The offer sent your mind reeling again, but before you could respond, Jaemin showed up, his usual smirk firmly in place. “You guys going somewhere?” he drawled, the mischief in his eyes impossible to miss.

You blinked, barely processing his words, because all you could feel was a faint irritation bubbling up. Of course, Jaemin had to show up now, of all times. You trudged toward him with your brows furrowed. And in a low voice, you scolded him. “What are you doing here? You’re ruining my moment!”

“Karina sent me,” he explained, also lowering his voice. He looked irritated too. “She’s going cuckoo. Said you weren’t picking up your phone and it’s past ten o’clock now.”

You stole a glance at Renjun, who was watching the interaction quietly, his expression curious but unreadable. You cleared your throat. “This is Jaemin,” you said reluctantly, gesturing toward him. “He’s a friend.”

“Best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Jaemin corrected.

You elbowed him in the rib, making him wince in pain. “Teenagers. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. He’s my mom’s friend’s son.”

Renjun’s gaze shifted to you briefly, as if silently asking for more context. The slight crease in his brow made your stomach flutter, and you felt the need to elaborate. “My roommate Karina made him come check on me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you must be Huang Renjun. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.

Renjun took it. “You have?” he asked, his tone polite but clearly surprised.

“Yeah. She’s been talking about—ow!” Before Jaemin could finish, you elbowed him again.

“Thanks for today,” you chimed, smiling brightly at Renjun in an attempt to steer the conversation back to normalcy. “For, you know, the coffee and the help with my assignment.”

Renjun turned to you with an easy smile. “Anytime. Hopefully, I didn’t distract you from it too much.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, shaking your head.

“That’s good then,” he said with a small nod. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you next time?”

The words were casual, but they echoed beautifully in your ears. See you next time? Did he mean that? Like, does he actually want to see you again? Or was it something polite people like him would say? You started overanalyzing right then and there, picking apart his tone, his word choice, the little upward curve of his lips when he said it.

“Yeah. See you next time,” you replied, waving a hand as he gave both of you one last look before exiting the double doors.

Your eyes followed him as he walked away, his silhouette framed by the glow of the library’s lights. It was like your crush had decided to script this scene for maximum drama. You wondered if he’d think about this moment later. Would he replay it in his head the way you would? Probably not.

As soon as the door closed behind Renjun, Jaemin leaned in, pulling you out of your musings. “You’re smiling like a total lovesick fool right now,” he sniggered. “It’s almost painful to watch. Almost.”

Your smile vanished as you shot him a glare, though your cheeks burned. “You’re literally the worst.”

“Maybe. But I’m also the reason Karina’s not hunting you down with a broom, so, you’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the exit, Jaemin falling into step beside you. Still, as much as you wanted to be annoyed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Renjun’s soft smile and the way he’d said, See you next time.

Karina and Giselle were at the apartment when you got back. Before Karina could preach about your agreement to let each other know if one of you would come home late, you told them about Renjun and the teasing started immediately. 

“Did he say anything?” Giselle asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

You groaned, dropping onto the couch dramatically. “No, he didn’t say anything. But he wanted to walk me home, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Karina repeated with a laugh.

“He offered, but Jaemin showed up, so it didn’t really count,” you admitted.

“Well, at least he offered,” Giselle pointed out.

“Exactly,” Giselle said. “That’s practically a confession of love in boy language. Men are simple like that.”

“Hey!” Jaemin protested but no one paid any attention.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe you were just hopelessly, blissfully delusional. Either way, you didn’t mind.

The smell of food greeted you as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom, and your stomach rumbled in approval. Following the aroma, you found Jaemin in the kitchen, busily moving around with your hot pink apron tied over his t-shirt.

“Guys, it’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!” you announced dramatically, taking a seat and marveling at the spread of dishes already on the table.

“Stop lying and eat,” Jaemin scolded, his tone sharp but his eyes amused. He carefully set a steaming clay pot in the center of the table, the savory aroma filling the room.

“Na Jaemin, you’re cooking up a feast!” Giselle exclaimed, appearing in the doorway and eyeing the food hungrily. “What’s the occasion?”

Karina came in last, casually pulling her hair into a bun. “I asked him to cook for us because everything in the fridge was about to go bad.”

“Really?” you asked, your spoonful of fried rice hovering mid-air. “All of it?” Without waiting for an answer, you stuffed the spoon into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum at the flavor.

“Nearly all of it,” Karina confirmed as she sat down next to Giselle. “We haven’t been cooking much lately. The groceries have been untouched for over a week now.”

“Why do we even bother to buy groceries when all we do is order takeout,” Giselle asked, shrugging.

“Hey, don’t say that. We eat home cooked meals sometimes,” you chided, pouting because you were the cook in the house. “Although, I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been cooking much lately.”

“Good thing you have me,” Jaemin said smugly, wiping his hands on the apron. “Everybody say ‘Thank you, Jaemin.’”

“Thank you, Jaemin,” all three of you obliged.

As everyone dug in, Jaemin leaned back, watching you all enjoy the food with a satisfied expression. The sound of clinking utensils and satisfied hums filled the room, and for a moment, you thought this was just another one of Jaemin’s regular ‘save the kitchen’ moments. But then Jaemin reached into his backpack, slung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a small stack of flyers. 

“Speaking of appreciating my genius,” he began, sliding one to each of you, “the fine arts department is hosting an exhibit this weekend. Photography, paintings, sketches—you name it. You guys should come.”

You glanced down at the flyer. The bold text read ‘Life Imitates Art: NCIT Student Art Exhibit’ accompanied by an artsy photo of a painted skyline.

“Oh, this looks cool!” Giselle said, holding up her flyer.

“Of course it does. My department made it,” Jaemin replied smugly. “And, I know someone who loves art and would definitely appreciate this.”

“Who could it be?” Karina muttered, smiling as she glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes at Jaemin’s theatrics, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest. Art exhibits were totally your thing, and Jaemin knew it. However, the moment you looked back at the flyer, your thoughts drifted to a certain someone.

Would Renjun enjoy something like this? You remembered how he’d once shown you his drawings, shyly flipping through margins of his notebook filled with sketches and doodles of nature, cartoons, and people.  The idea of walking through the gallery with him, admiring the art and sharing thoughts, made your heart skip a beat.

“Will our photos be there?” Giselle asked, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve taken enough pictures of us to fill a gallery.”

Jaemin snickered. “Nope. Freshmen aren’t allowed to participate.”

“What?” the three of you exclaimed in unison, outraged.

“Unfair,” Giselle muttered. “You’re better than half the juniors I know.”

“Exactly!” Karina added, frowning. “Who decided that rule anyway?”

Jaemin shrugged, unbothered. “Rules are rules. Besides, you think I want to deal with more critiques from professors? Hard pass.”

“That’s so lame,” you chimed in, frowning as well. “Your pictures of us deserve to be up there.”

“Flattery won’t change anything,” Jaemin replied with a grin. “But you will come to the exhibit, right?”

“Of course,” Karina answered immediately.

“Definitely,” Giselle said, nudging you. “Right?”

“Obviously,” you replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do we have to RSVP, or can we just show up?” Karina asked.

“Just show up. But get there early—it’ll be packed,” Jaemin said. Then he turned to you specifically, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t flake.”

“Who, me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’d never miss a chance to see what the fine arts department cooked up. You know that.”

The conversation continued with Jaemin fielding questions about the exhibit, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how to casually bring it up with Renjun. Would it be weird to invite him? Would he even want to come?

By the time dinner was over, your mind was already racing with possible scenarios. One thing was clear: you needed to find a way to mention the exhibit to Renjun without sounding like you were asking him on a date. Even though that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

Three days later, you wondered how you managed to invite Renjun to the exhibit without fumbling over your words too much. The memory of your awkward phrasing made you cringe slightly every time it replayed in your head, but here you were—standing next to him in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by art.

He seemed genuinely interested in the pieces, his eyes darting from one frame to another with a quiet intensity. Every now and then, he’d point something out—a brushstroke technique in a painting or the composition of a photograph—and you’d nod along, pretending you weren’t hyper-focused on the way his lips curved as he spoke. 

Normally, you’d be more proactive than this. You could talk about art and techniques for days. But at the time, you were more focused on spending the time with him that you could only listen to his thoughts. You offered some of your own comments, but not as much as you would when it was someone else there with you.

The exhibit didn’t lead to anything romantic, as you’d half-hoped. There were no magical moments, no grand gestures, no accidentally brushing hands that sent sparks flying. But somehow, that was okay. You were content just being there with him.

Dinner was a grander affair than the exhibit, to you, at least. It wasn’t anything fancy—just fast food at a brightly lit diner. You sat across from each other, unwrapping burgers and sipping on sodas, talking about this and that.

As you both ate, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—how the exhibit had surprised you both with its variety, how one of the paintings reminded him of a place he’d visited as a kid, and the sheer horror of seeing the price tags on some of the pieces.

“Five thousand dollars for that?” he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely as if the painting were still in front of him.

“Art is subjective,” you replied with a shrug.

Renjun shook his head, biting into a fry. “Subjective or not, I think my two-year-old cousin could’ve done that with finger paints.”

You laughed, nearly choking on your drink. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. But honestly, same.”

After a pause, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you like art? Like genuinely?”

You nodded, pushing your tray aside. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not an expert or anything, but I like looking at it. It’s relaxing, and sometimes it makes you think about stuff in a different way.”

“I see. Art can make people feel feelings.”

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head cutely. “Do you just doodle on your notebooks or do you, like, genuinely want to pursue it?”

“I like sketching, but I’m more into digital arts,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Like I said, it’s more of a hobby. I don’t think I’m good enough to call myself an artist or anything.”

“You do digital arts?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s so cool! I thought you just sketch on the margins because you want your hands to not stop moving.”

Renjun chuckled heartily, looking a little sheepish. “I do like art a lot. And yeah, maybe I doodle on my notes because I don’t know what to do with my hands sometimes.”

“Can I see them?” you said firmly, leaning closer.

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Your digital arts. Can I see them?” you asked and Renjun shrugged. “Only if you wanna show them, of course.”

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If I ever think they’re worth showing.”

The conversation shifted naturally from there. You learned that Renjun liked savory food more than sweets, that he loved sci-fi movies and old-school animation, and that his favorite season was summer because it was warmer.

In return, you told him about your favorite books and the time you’d tried to paint but ended up with more paint on yourself than the canvas.

Renjun’s laugh came easily, and you found yourself wanting to hear it more. “Sounds like you’d be a hit at one of those paint-and-sip nights.”

“Only if the wine is good,” you replied, grinning.

At one point, he pointed at your tray. “You’re not going to finish that?”

You glanced at the fries you’d left untouched. “No, I’m stuffed. Why? You want them?”

“Waste not, want not,” he said, sliding the tray toward himself.

“Do you even like cold fries?”

“Food is food,” he replied simply, popping one into his mouth.

It was such a small thing, but the casual ease of the moment made your heart warm. You wanted to believe this connection, this closeness, was something meaningful—something real.

But doubt crept in, uninvited and persistent. Was this really going anywhere? Renjun was affecting you more than you’d expected—your mood, your energy, even your plans. You were falling so fast, yet he hadn’t even shown you anything to suggest he was on the same page. Every small gesture, every laugh, every lingering glance—you found yourself dissecting them, overthinking, convincing yourself they meant something when they might not.

Would you be okay if the spark you felt wasn’t mutual?

When dinner was over, the two of you stepped outside, only to find it raining. The kind of rain that drenched you in seconds if you stepped out without an umbrella. You both stood under the awning of the restaurant, staring out into the drizzle. The air was cold, and small splashes of water reached your feet, soaking through your shoes.

Renjun stood beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the chilly air. Despite the miserable weather, you didn’t feel annoyed. If anything, the rain seemed to add a certain weight to the moment—a quiet intimacy that made your heart ache in a good way.

You wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as hyper-aware of the proximity between you as you were? Did he feel the way your shoulders nearly brushed every time one of you shifted your weight?

“I didn’t check the forecast,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the ground. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You nodded, your hands buried in your pockets. “Yeah. Bummer.”

It was a half-hearted reply, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your voice trembled, not from the cold but from the nervous energy bubbling in your chest.

“What should we do now?” he asked after a moment, turning slightly to look at you.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say anything coherent. “No idea,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze firmly on the rain.

Then, without warning, you felt his hands on your shoulders. The touch was light but firm enough to make your heart leap. Before you could even process it, Renjun had pulled you closer, draping his jacket over both your heads.

“Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly full of determination. “We’re making a run for it.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-hidden under the shared shelter of his jacket.

“It’s just rain,” he said with a grin that sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. “If we don’t do this, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

You hesitated for a split second, but his enthusiasm was contagious. “Fine,” you relented, unable to suppress a small laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his smile widening. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted, but before you could overthink it, Renjun tightened his hold on you, and the two of you darted out into the rain.

The world seemed to blur as you ran, your laughter mingling with his as water splashed up around your feet. The jacket did little to shield you, and soon, droplets of rain were sliding down your cheeks and soaking through your clothes. But you didn’t care—not when Renjun was pulling you along, his own laugh ringing like music in your ears.

When you finally reached the bus shed, you stumbled to a halt, breathless and soaked but grinning from ear to ear. Renjun let out a relieved sigh, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, which only made you laugh harder.

“We made it!” he announced, his voice tinged with mock heroics.

“Barely,” you shot back, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “I didn’t know you were the type to do something like that. You’re insane.”

“Insane or genius?” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the metal pole of the shed.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. The rain continued to pour, the sound of it hitting the roof above you creating a soothing rhythm. You both stood there, catching your breath, the moment stretching into something quiet and tender.

“Thank you for today,” Renjun looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad we did this.”

The way he said it made your heart flutter, but before you could dwell on it too long, he added with a teasing grin, “Even if I had to brave the rain for it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Totally worth it, though.”

“Totally,” he agreed, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

For a moment, you thought he might say something else—or that you might—but the sound of car horns broke through your silence, and you both turned to watch the busy streets. The road in front of you was alive with motion—cars speeding past, their headlights streaking through the rain-soaked night. Most of the taxis that passed were already occupied, and when Renjun checked the bus schedule on his phone, he sighed. 

“Caught in traffic,” he said, showing you the GPS map with the slow-moving icon of your bus.

“I figured,” you replied, leaning against the metal pole of the waiting shed. But oddly enough, you didn’t mind. Despite being drenched and stranded, you were having fun.

“Well,” he said, giving the jacket a rueful look before glancing at you, “I’d offer you this, but it’s basically a sponge at this point.”

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. We’re already wet. What difference would it make?”

He shrugged, tucking the useless jacket under his arm. “Fair enough.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes chatting about anything and everything—jokes about how your shoes squelched when you moved, your terrible luck with rain, and a particularly embarrassing story Renjun shared about slipping on wet pavement once.

Then your gaze wandered to the poster on the wall of the waiting shed. It was an advertisement for some soft drink, with bright colors and cheerful models smiling down at you. Or at least, they had been cheerful—someone had scribbled on their faces with marker, adding mustaches and angry eyebrows.

You tilted your head, amused. “What are your thoughts on this piece?” you asked, the same way you’d asked him about the artworks in the gallery earlier that day.

Renjun followed your gaze and chuckled. Then he put on a serious face, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “It’s tasteful, yes. Based on the lines, I think the artist made this on the spot. A spontaneous piece. Overall, it’s top-tier art.”

You tilted your head at the poster, humming in disagreement. “I think it’s mid-tier at most.”

“Think you could do better?” he challenged.

“I’m not much of an artist.”

“Well, how about this?” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket with a mischievous grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

“To write,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Vandalism?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably gonna change those posters soon anyway. Might as well leave our mark.”

You grinned, loving the gleam of mischief in his eyes that was too tempting to resist. “Alright,” you said, taking the pen from his hand.

You leaned toward the poster, careful not to smudge it too much with your damp sleeve, and drew the best fox drawing you could make, unsuccessfully, but you were content with it. Then you wrote in large, messy letters: CUTE LITTLE FOX, INJUN.

“That’s a fox?” Renjun asked, surprised. You nodded with a grin. “Looks more like a wet squirrel.”

“That’s fine. Art is subjective,” you scoffed, handing him the pen. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, laughing. Beneath your writing, he drew a cartoon girl who resembled you, and added: YOU’RE MUCH CUTER THAN THE FOX ^_^

The two of you stepped back to admire your masterpiece, grinning like a couple of kids who’d just gotten away with a prank. “Think it’ll make someone’s day?” you asked.

“Either that or they’ll roll their eyes and wonder what middle schoolers did this,” Renjun replied, pocketing the pen.

When the bus finally pulled up, its headlights cutting through the rain, you both boarded, still laughing. As you climbed the steps, you turned back for a moment and snapped a quick picture of your vandalism.

Renjun noticed and leaned closer to take a look at your screen. “What’s that for?”

“Evidence,” you said with a smirk. “Just in case the poster police comes after us.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile as the two of you found seats near the back of the bus, the sound of rain and the hum of the engine accompanying your ride home.

That weekend, while your friends were out doing their own thing, you were in your bedroom, grinning at your phone. You spent the morning scrolling through the pictures you took with Renjun the day before—zooming into his face and admiring the features you’d grown so fond of in the last few weeks. The picture you took of the graffiti was posted in your stories, and you kept checking who’d seen it, hoping one of them would be Renjun himself.

You wished there was an excuse to go out and meet him, but there wasn’t any. Even if there was a valid excuse, you probably wouldn’t act on it because you were worried about being too obvious. Besides, anything you say to invite him outside would only seem like an eager attempt to see him. So you opted to wait till the next time you can hang out with him.

“It’s still Saturday morning?” you grumbled upon seeing the date and time on your phone. “Has the weekend always been this slow?”

As soon as Monday rolled in, you went to your classes with a bounce in your step, listening intently to the lectures and hoping time passed faster. When it was all over, you skipped to the library knowing Renjun would already be there.

And so it continued. The library was your sanctuary as usual, but after a few more days of hunching over the same cramped desks and flickering fluorescents, you suggested a change of scenery. Renjun wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but you managed to convince him to see the appeal of the wide open space and the green grass of the quad just outside the library.

You would spread a small blanket on the grass, and sprawl there with your books or laptops. There were times when your friends would join you but when they did, you’d spend the time chatting instead of studying, so you limited their participation.

Other times, you opted for the cozy cafe outside the campus,  books spread across the table. That space was more intimate and somehow, private. You would read through notes and discuss theories over coffee and dessert. Sometimes, you’d just be talking about random things.

At a glance, it would seem like you spend every day with him without fail, but that wasn’t the case. You studied together once every two days, for only two to three hours max. But it was enough time to fall harder for Renjun. When you weren’t together, you’d be thinking of him. And when he was right before your eyes, your thoughts would still be filled with him. When you were out doing things you usually did with your friends, you wondered who he was hanging out with, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in books.

One day, Renjun suggested a detour after your study session. “There’s this little bookshop near campus,” he said. “It’s got a good vibe. You’ll like it.”

You followed him through winding streets until you reached a hole-in-the-wall shop with dusty windows and a bell that jingled as you entered. The air smelled like old paper and candles. Renjun drifted toward the art section, his fingers skimming the spines of books.

“Here,” he said, pulling one out and handing it to you. “This one’s good.”

You looked at the title, a collection of essays on creativity. A smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the time Renjun complimented a creative essay you once showed him. “Are you trying to inspire me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “The piece you showed me last time was really good. You need to write more of those.”

You hummed, looking around the shop. Your eyes stopped at a shelf of vintage sketchbooks and canvasses. “Well, in that case, you should sketch more,” you told him, beaming as you led him toward said shelf so you could pick one.

Later, back at your apartment, you flipped through the book, pausing on a passage about capturing fleeting moments. You thought of Renjun—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on his work. Your chest tightened with both affection and frustration. Just how much longer could you go on without telling him how you felt?

As long as you could, it seemed. The days passed, and the feelings only grew stronger, but Renjun remained blissfully unaware. Sometimes you wondered if he truly didn’t know, or if he was just pretending not to. You’d catch little moments—a smile, a glance—but you dismissed them. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe you were imagining it all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move. You were too shy, too scared of risking everything, too afraid that the warmth you thought you saw in his eyes was nothing more than your imagination. If you never confessed, you could never be rejected. And so, you kept quiet. It was easier this way. But even in the silence, you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

And so it goes.

One day, you sprawled out on a blanket beneath the oak tree in the quad. Karina joined you, which was fine because she wasn’t as noisy as Giselle or Jaemin. Renjun was supposed to be studying, but he was sketching in his notebook instead, the soft scratch of pencil against paper the only sound you could hear from him.

You tried to focus on your notes, but your eyes kept drifting to him—how his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in that adorable way that made your chest tighten. His focus was so intense, so effortless, and it made you wonder if he even knew how attractive it was.

“What are you drawing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Just something,” Renjun replied, turning the sketchpad slightly toward you. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, genuinely impressed by the details of his art. You glanced up at the oak tree, which was clearly the reference for his sketch. “How old do you think this tree is?”

Karina looked up from her tablet, following your gaze. “Probably a few decades old.”

“Seventy-three,” Renjun said, his eyes still on the tree. “They said it was planted by the founder of this school. It’s been here since.”

You smiled, looking back at the tree with new eyes. “Is that why it’s in such a weird spot on the school grounds? I always thought it looked out of place.”

“Hi, Jun!” she said, pulling your attention away. She was pretty, with an effortless kind of grace that immediately made you wonder who she was.

“Hi, Lia,” Renjun greeted back with a smile, and you couldn’t help but measure how much of a smile it was. Was it just friendly, or was there something more?

“Is that a sketchbook?” she asked, leaning down to peek over his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah,” Renjun said, closing it quickly, though not before she caught a glimpse of the pages.

“Wow,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re so talented. I didn’t know you could draw.”

Renjun laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I can, though I’m not that good at it.”

You felt your jaw clench as she lingered, her gaze fixed on him. It wasn’t subtle—how she twirled her hair, leaned just a little too close, like she was trying to get his attention in the most obvious way. But Renjun seemed oblivious, like it was all just normal.

Beside you, Karina tugged at your sleeve. When you exchanged looks, you saw the same confusion in her eyes.

“Who’s that?” she mouthed, and you could only shrug, your stomach tightening with an unfamiliar knot.

After she left, you tried to play it cool, but Renjun noticed the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in that endearing way.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that felt like a mask. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

It was hard to ignore the knot of frustration that settled in your stomach—jealousy, confusion, possessiveness. The way Lia had leaned in just a little too close, the way she smiled at him like she knew something you didn’t—it made your heart twist. You weren’t oblivious to it. She was clearly a competition. And you hated how much that thought stung.

But then, you reminded yourself: you were in no position to feel frustrated or jealous. You couldn’t expect him to cater to your feelings when you hadn’t done anything to express them. And even if he did know, he didn’t owe you anything. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was obligated to cater to whatever unspoken expectations you’d built in your head.

And so it goes. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and hoping he’d one day confirm that he too had feelings for you. That all this time, he’d been keeping it to himself worried that it might ruin your friendship.

“Worried about your hair?” Renjun teased one day, while you were standing outside the cafe under the dull gray sky. It has started drizzling and you were wondering if you could make a run for it.

“No,” you shot back, laughing. “Are you worried about yours?”

“No, but just in case…” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella with cartoon characters. “I brought an umbrella.”

You stared at it, then at him. “Did you steal that from your little cousin or something?”

“It’s mine, actually,” he corrected nonchalantly. “I got it yesterday.”

“You’re walking around campus with that?” you snickered.

“Hey, Moomin is cool,” he said, unfazed. He popped the umbrella open. “And it’s functional.”

You giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I think it’s very cute.”

Renjun gave you a deadpan stare. “Ha-ha. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

The two of you huddled under the umbrella, the sound of rain pattering against it. The closeness made your heart race, and you were hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours as you walked side by side. By the time you reached the library, your cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the rain.

Inside, you settled at a desk by the window. Renjun started sketching again, and you observed him quietly, wondering how much longer you could keep your feelings bottled up. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand being this close to him and not telling him everything.

You busied yourself with an assignment, racking your brain and going through your notes to come up with the best output. Anything to distract yourself from Renjun. And it worked for a while, until the appearance of a certain someone made it impossible to focus on anything at all.

“Renjun,” Lia said, appearing beside your desk with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

“What’s up?” Renjun asked, setting his pencil down.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

Lia glanced at you with a glint of embarrassment in her eyes. “Can we talk there?”

“Alright.” Renjun nodded, rising to his feet. He gave you a small smile and a nod before following Lia.

You stayed at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of your notebook. You tried to focus on the notes spread across the table, but your eyes kept darting toward the direction Renjun and Lia had gone. What could they possibly be talking about? A prickle of curiosity crept under your skin, impossible to ignore. The logical part of you insisted it was none of your business. But another part—a louder, restless part—was dying to know.

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the notebook, and your knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. You glanced out at the rain, trying to convince yourself to stay put, to respect their privacy, but your thoughts were spinning out of control. What if she was confessing? What if he said yes?

You shook your head, banishing the thought. You didn’t even know what they were talking about. For all you knew, it could be about something entirely irrelevant to confessions and feelings. Still, your chest tightened at the idea of them sharing something you weren’t a part of. Once again, you tried to focus on your work, but your resolve crumbled with each passing second.

“Fuck this,” you muttered, and before you knew it, your legs were moving, carrying you toward the shelves where they had disappeared. Your heart thudded in your ears as you peeked around the corner. There they were, standing by the window, their voices low.

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” Renjun said, his tone warm. “You’re an amazing friend, and I’d hate to lose that.”

“No, not at all,” Lia assured him. “I actually just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for being honest.”

You covered your mouth, stopping the gasp that almost escaped your lips. You were right after all. Lia was confessing her feelings for Renjun!

They continued chatting briefly, their tones light and unstrained. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear there was no animosity. Lia seemed to take it well, laughing softly at something Renjun said before they started walking back.

Panicking, you quickly ducked behind another shelf, snatching a random book. When they passed by, you waited a few more moments before returning to the table. You then sat down across from Renjun, and when he noticed you, he gave you that easy smile that always made your chest flutter.

“Where were you?” he asked, one hand flipping a page in his sketchpad.

“I just grabbed something from there,” you lied, showing him the book you took from the shelf. “Are you done talking?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Nice, you thought to yourself, smiling. I think I’m good too.

By the time the rain had stopped, you were done with your assignment and Renjun had packed his sketchpad away. These days, he had been drawing a lot, and it made you giddy each time you saw him take out the vintage sketchbook you got for him. Sometimes, you liked to think he was properly practicing his art because of you, but that was just something you told yourself. He didn’t really say or do anything to back it up.

As you glanced out the window, sunlight began to peek through the rain clouds, and you gestured toward it. “Looks like the weather is getting better. Should we head out?”

“Sure,” Renjun said, tucking his pencil into his bag. “We’ve been here long enough.”

The two of you walked side by side, the damp air cool against your skin. Renjun tugged on the sling of his bag, his gaze distant, as though he had something on his mind. You didn’t press him, though you were wondering what was bothering him. It was unusual to see him so conflicted—Renjun, who was always so calm and composed.

You let the silence stretch, looking around the campus grounds. There was nothing you could think of saying, and it didn’t seem like Renjun was in the headspace to talk about anything either. But then he let out a deep sigh, making you glance at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, peeking at his face.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, his voice low with a hint of uncertainty. “Have you ever had a friend confess their feelings for you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe? I mean, I think most of the people who confessed to me were my friends at first.”

In your mind, you were wondering if he was asking because of his conversation with Lia earlier.

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes stayed distant. “Yeah, I figured. It’s just... earlier, Lia said she liked me. Romantically.”

You knew that already. “Okay. What happened?”

“Apparently, she felt that we had a really good connection. She enjoyed hanging out with me and started liking me because I was nice and all that.”

You hummed, urging him to continue.

“It got me thinking, I should probably draw lines with friendship. As flattering as it was to be ‘liked’, I don’t really want to keep unintentionally leading people on,” he continued, tugging your jacket sleeves gently to veer you away from a puddle.

“That’s fine. You can do that,” you told him, your eyes lingering on his hand on your jacket. “But it’s not your fault if people get the wrong idea. There’s nothing wrong with you or your personality. That’s just how you are as a person.”

“You think so?”

You glanced up at him. “Yeah. But I do understand Lia though. It happens to some. Sometimes people catch feelings, even if they know they shouldn’t,” you chuckled, hoping Renjun wouldn’t notice you were literally talking about yourself.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging. “I wasn’t trying to make her like me like that. I’ve spent way more time with you than with her, but you don’t feel that way for me.”

You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat as a jolt of panic engulfed you. Your chest was tightening as if all the air was being sucked out of you. Renjun kept walking ahead, oblivious, until he realized you weren’t beside him

“What are you doing?” he asked and you couldn’t answer him, so you bit your lip nervously.

What should you do? Should you let his assumption slide? Or should you finally be honest and tell him what’s been bugging you all this time? What if you said something you couldn’t take back?

“Is something wrong?” he asked again, reaching for your shoulder.

“I-I…” you stammered, locking eyes with him. His gaze was steady, but your thoughts were a mess. You swallowed hard. “You’re wrong. I do feel that way.”

It was his turn to be stunned. His brows furrowed slightly, and his hand on your shoulder loosened as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Actually, I have felt that way before we even became friends,” you continued. Your chest tightened further, but there was no turning back now. “It was just a crush at first, but I got to know you and I just fell harder. I have feelings for you, Renjun and I don’t know what to do with it. I just know I had to tell you about it.”

Renjun still didn’t say anything, flustered and confused by your sudden confession. In your mind, you were screaming, hoping you could fast forward and skip this part because it was making you cringe with embarrassment. But you couldn’t back out—not now that you’d spilled everything out.

The two of you continued to stare at each other, seemingly communicating with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. Your mind raced with questions and possibilities, all pointing at Renjun and begging for him to finally say something. Every brain cell in your head was rioting, a chaos that was the complete opposite of the weighted silence stretching between you and Renjun.

And when his hand  slowly slipped away from your shoulder, you held your breath again, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

“I’m so sorry.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you released the breath you were holding. Those three words—though short and straightforward—were enough to sum up everything Renjun was about to say. You already knew what it meant, and despite the heavy weight settling on your chest at his words, you somehow hoped he’d surprise you with a plot twist.

“I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I really just wanted to be friends with you. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.

You nodded, even though the words stung. He didn’t need to finish for you to understand. “It’s alright. I understand.”

He sighed your name out, shoulders sagging as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. You smiled, despite the turmoil in your head. It was hard to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you—hurt, embarrassment, frustration—but you forced it down. You could handle this. You could take it like an adult.

“Renjun, it’s fineee,” you said, your voice a little lighter than you felt. You laughed softly, almost as if to convince yourself. “I said I wanted to tell you about it. I wasn’t asking you to reciprocate or anything.”

He still looked uncertain, his brows furrowed with that familiar concern you could never shake. But you didn’t want to drag this out any longer, didn’t want to let him see how much his words had hit you. It wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you added, giving him a small wave as if to dismiss the whole conversation. “We’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.”

Renjun hesitated for a moment, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure how to handle your response. You could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, and that made you want to reassure him more.

“Really,” you said with a shrug, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. I’m starving. I need to get home and make some food, otherwise I’d be eating takeout again for dinner.”

You both continued down the path, the sound of your footsteps against the wet pavement the only noise between you. Renjun didn’t say anything more, but you could feel his gaze on you, lingering with that worried expression. He was probably still processing everything. You could almost hear him overthinking it in his head, trying to figure out if he had somehow hurt you.

But for now, you were just grateful to keep moving. You had your pride, and you had your space. And for a moment, despite the mess of it all, you felt a small wave of relief.

You said you’d be fine, that nothing would change between you and Renjun. But as the last few days of the semester rolled around, you found yourself doing what any mature, emotionally stable woman would do—avoid him like the plague. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse—last-minute assignments and projects that seemed to always appear every end of semester. You were both swamped with coursework, so really, it wasn’t avoidance; it was just conveniently timed busyness. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You also told yourself it was just temporary. You’d heal, bounce back, and return to being the friend who could sit across from Renjun without your stomach twisting into knots. After all, you were still friends. Nothing had changed, right?

Wrong. In the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract you from your thoughts, the truth would play itself on a loop: it had changed. The ache that would creep in your chest was sharp and annoyingly persistent like a bad pop song stuck on repeat. No matter how hard you tried to bury it under denial, it kept rising to the surface, demanding to be felt.

When Renjun texted you, your responses were cheerful, using the same emojis and the same upbeat tone to mask the fact that your heart was broken. You couldn’t tell if he bought it, but since his replies sounded as casual as ever, you figured your performance deserved an Oscar. Or at least a participation trophy for effort.

Your roommates, Karina and Giselle, noticed it. They could tell something was off. You had always been the one who kept things light and bright, the one who filled the room with laughter and jokes. But now, they could see the small cracks. They could hear the silence that replaced your usual chatter, the way you kept to yourself more often. Even your jokes had gone from playful to suspiciously self-deprecating. 

“Girl, you don't look okay. Like, at all!” Giselle had told you once.

“This is fine,” you’d said with a lopsided grin. “I’m just living my sad rom-com arc. All I need now is a montage of me crying in the rain, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”

It was even more obvious to Jaemin, who, instead of teasing you or trying to get under your skin, seemed to have adopted a strategy of quiet support. He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t try to fix things, and—bless him—didn’t say, “I told you so”. You appreciated the space, but you also hated the awkwardness that had replaced his usual antics. You didn’t like it when he walked on eggshells around you, and it only made you feel worse.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Karina offered again one night, her voice full of concern. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off with a half-hearted laugh. “This is character development. Pain builds personality, or something like that.”

Giselle handed you a tub of ice cream. “Here, have a snack while your character is developing.”

No amount of jokes or distractions could fully numb your heartache. You kept telling yourself you’d get through it, that it would pass, but every time you were alone with your thoughts, the weight settled back onto your chest. You weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending to be okay, but for now, the show had to go on.

Then, by the time spring break was around the corner, the heaviness in your chest had started to lift. It wasn’t gone entirely but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been two weeks ago. You were finding your way back to yourself already. Giselle even pointed it out one evening while you were packing for the trip home.

“Hey, look at you, humming again,” she teased, flopping onto your bed. “I was starting to think Renjun broke you for good.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. “Oh please. He wasn’t even a fling. Being rejected by a crush wouldn’t break me,” you said, folding another shirt into your bag. “Besides, it’s my first spring break. I can’t walk out of this campus brokenhearted.”

“Aha, I see you’ve found your lost vigor for real fun.” Giselle gave you an approving nod, like a coach satisfied with her team’s performance. “Progress. I’ll take it.”

The next day, as you walked across campus for one last errand before heading home, you spotted Renjun. He was walking toward the library, balancing a stack of books in one hand and holding his bag in the other. You hesitated for a moment, instinctively considering walking in the opposite direction, but the impulse passed as quickly as it came.

You reminded yourself you were okay now—or at least getting there. Avoiding him would only keep you stuck, and besides, the two of you were still friends. Nothing had changed. Right?

“Hey,” you called out, jogging up to him.

Renjun turned at the sound of your voice, a small smile forming when he saw you. “Oh, hey! I thought you left already.”

“Not yet. I’m heading out later today,” you said, nodding at the books in his hand. “Still cramming in some last-minute reading?”

“No, I’m returning these,” he said with a chuckle. “What about you? Got big plans for spring break?”

You grinned. “Are you kidding me? Of course, it’s our first one as college students. You?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “Just going home. Last night, my mom sent me a whole list of chores waiting for me when I get back.”

You laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy between you two again, like the past few weeks hadn’t happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, his tone softening. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I thought it would be wrong to bring it up when we’re not face-to-face.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you thought about brushing it off, but you realized you didn’t need to. Not anymore. “I wasn’t,” you admitted with a small smile. “But only for a bit. I’m okay now. Really.”

Renjun studied your face, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and for once, it wasn’t suffocating. It didn’t feel like something was left unsaid or hanging in the air.

“Well,” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder, “I should get going. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do during spring break.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You have fun with your chores too.”

“I don’t know if I will, but I’ll make sure to try,” he replied, chuckling. “Text me if you need anything though, okay? Or if you're bored, I don't know. Just... Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."

“I will,” you promised, waving as you walked away.

As you made your way across campus, you fished your phone out of your pocket, remembering that Karina once told you about a confessions page on X. It was called NCIT Campus Confessions, and after skimming through the posts, you typed in a submission of your own:

To HRJ, Maybe I will finally learn my lesson. -xx

You felt lighter. Maybe not entirely free from the disappointment, but enough to know that you’d be okay. After all, it wouldn’t do to carry heartache with you to a place as vibrant and alive as Aruba.

[To be continued in Wonderland]

[dark-dragon-8]

Do you guys ever think about eighteen years old Sam, going to his first university pool party, having fun, drinking booze. While everyone else just stares at him as he takes off his shirt, only to reveal a myriad of scars across his skin.

Imagine, you're in some club/committee/Student Council and want to throw a party to accept the new freshman year students to the school. So you get permission to use the pool for a welcome party and everything's great, everyone is having fun.

But then, that one guy takes off his shirt (and the situation is actually a whole lot worse because there were a ton of girls checking him out because he was ripped) and his body is just 𝙘��𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 in scars. And it's not like those scars that almost everyone has, like a biking scar or maybe one you get from a knife when you cut your food and aren't being careful.

No, these scars are 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 and more importantly 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩, one of them looks like it hasn't been too long since it's finally healed, kind of fresh.

He has a gunshot wound in his shoulder (run in with law enforcement before he left).

His chest and back are 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 with knife slashes and, if you look close enough, you could see a stab scar on his lower waist and another one on his collarbone near his neck.

His arms have those scratchings on them that honestly look way too deep to be human.

And just when you don't think it can get any worse, someone asks him why he isn't getting into the water (he already took off his shirt, why not take a dip) while he's a little tipsy, and his answer is "Because something (which most people hear as 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾) might grab my leg and try to drown me"

Everyone leave that party feeling absolutely horrified about this kid's past and vow to never inflict any harm on him and protect him from bullies for as long as they can.

Sam doesn't remember that day, however he is pleasantly surprised when everyone at school is extra nice to him and buys him extra food whenever he can't afford it (because he's broke asf).

I might actually use this for my fic (only in my fic, Dean comes to Stanford with Sam, so people might think that he's abusing him in some way, shape or form, so that'll be an interesting plot device, at least until Brady, or someone else, asks him if he's okay and he tells them how Dean helped him get away from his father, and people interpret that however the fuck they want because he doesn't care because he's a troll raised hunter raised liar).

[strange-lamp-stranger]

OKOK this is just pasted in from my notes app so apologies if the formatting is weird! it's very much so just the way i spat it all out of my brain and onto the page, lol. i also started actually planning out plot beats n stuff in case i was gonna write a whole fic but i don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon, so i'll throw those in too! it's all under the cut because. long.

Modern AU Kyana-centric. Takes place in Canada because i said so.

She's studying business administration in uni and feeling really stuck in life. She rents a tiny basement apartment, and while she gets along with most of her classmates, she's not close with any of them (but she is closest with Ione, who has a crush on Kyana). Not to mention, the department head, Dr. Rose Sephrum, who is incidentally Kyana's great-aunt and closest living relative, is bitter and overly strict. While Kyana is actually pretty good at most of the stuff in her classes, she's struggling to keep up because she isn't receiving any supports for her (undiscovered & undiagnosed) ADHD.

Kyana's backstory: grew up in foster care after her parents died when she was a toddler. She never got adopted and bounced around a lot of different homes. Dr. Sephrum could have adopted her, but refused. When Kyana turned 18, she entered into a government program supporting young adults coming out of the foster care/child welfare system. She basically gets a government stipend every month. It pays her rent and groceries and not much else, but between those payments and gov't student loans/grants, she's able to comfortably support herself. She volunteers at a local animal shelter every other weekend WITH IONE!!

Dani's backstory: She grew up with her cousins Roy (4 years older than her) and Egan (1 year older than her, but 100% the baby of the family) under the care of her Uncle Oto. (The three of them nicknamed their backyard and make-do play area "the Heap" because it was. well. a big heap of junk that Oto could never be bothered to clean up). Oto was one of those father figures that is definitely shitty, but also definitely cares and is always doing what he thinks is best for the kids, even if it's incredibly misguided. In highschool, Dani's only good grades were in math and tech/construction classes, but she had a reputation for doing dangerous and impulsive things in her tech classes without her teachers' permission. She got an apprenticeship as a mechanic at a local appliance repair shop right out of highschool. DANI IS AUTISTIC. IT SHOWS. KYANA'S TOO POLITE TO ASK ABOUT IT SO FOR A GOOD WHILE SHE JUST THINKS DANI'S WEIRD FOR NO REASON. (Dani got diagnosed in middle school because social differences were really starting to show and she was getting kind of bullied, and the school psychologist saw her and was like "hmmm i have a suspicion".)

Fic begins when Kyana's roommate moves out mid-semester (they were apparently on academic probation and got their last strike), leaving Kyana stranded and needing a last-minute roommate. She put out an ad and the first person to respond was Dani. Dani the appliance technician apprentice. Dani with her wild blue hair and adorably annoying cat, Plug. Dani's passion for life rubs off on Kyana, who begins to feel inspired again.

Eventually, Ione moves in with Kyana and Dani [she DOESN'T get together with Kyana, who is Very Aroace. Actually, when she learned that her feelings weren't and never would be reciprocated, Ione decided, in her self-destructive ways, that the best way to deal with it would be to completely break off her friendship with Kyana so that Ione's feelings might fade. After a year or so, her romantic feelings DO fade, but she still feels a gaping, Kyana-shaped hole in her life. Ione's convinced it's because she's not actually over her feelings for Kyana yet, but really it's because—regardless of the type of attraction she feels—she's in love with Kyana and has developed a similarly strong "squish" (platonic crush). Kyana, after some prodding from Dani, decides to try to reconnect with Ione, and that's when they become friends again, and move in together and eventually become platonic life partners.]

Plot beats (UNFINISHED):

- Dani moves in. Background exposition on why Kyana needed a new roommate. Kyana instantly falls in love with Plug. Kyana is clearly burnt out from school.

- Kyana goes to class. We meet Professor Sephrum and Ione. Kyana and Ione study together. Kyana laments how much she dislikes the program they're in, and Ione agrees but says that she herself feels like she just needs to suck it up until she graduates. she thinks it'd be a waste of her athletic scholarship otherwise (Ione is a lightweight wrestler. Kyana was on the highschool wrestling team with her but dropped it after highschool). Kyana thinks that is a really sad outlook to have.

- Kyana fails one of her courses because she couldn't keep up with the courseload. She desolately contemplates dropping out. Dani learns about Kyana having failed that class and gets Kyana her favourite flavour of gum (she'd seen Kyana chewing it while doing chores around the house) and gives Kyana an awkward pep talk. Plug is a cute little asshole. Dani tries to steer Kyana in a positive direction and asks what course(s) she did best in. Kyana says she got a 78 in her kinesiology elective. [warblingly like, yknow, someone who was just crying really hard a few minutes ago] "I wish I'd done better, honestly. It's the one class I actually looked forward to."

- Semester 2 reading week—Kyana and Ione finally catch a break and Dani invites them to come with her on the roadtrip she's been planning on taking to go visit Roy and Egan. (Incidentally, Kyana has been taking another kinesiology elective and really enjoying it also. She's considering declaring it as her minor.) The three of them (and Plug. he has a cat backpack) pile into Dani's old little 2008 Volkswagen (golf?). on the way down, Dani and Ione learn that Kyana's never been to an amusement park. There's a big one in the city that Roy and Egan live in, and so the five of them (plus Roy's fwb, Cressida) spend a day at the amusement park. Kyana turns out to be a total adrenaline junkie and goes on all the huge rides with Dani. They convince Ione to go on the biggest rollercoaster with them. She's scared out of her mind the whole time but Kyana is happy so it's worth it, Ione thinks. when they get back to Roy and Egan's place, Plug is smugly napping in a pile of upturned potted plants.

- [SOMEHOW, THEY RETURN HOME.]

- Dani's been helping Kyana with her homework whenever she can. Kyana has to take a statistics class and Dani is like "fuck yeah, math, something i actually understand!" Because of this, Kyana managed to do pretty well on her midterms. Kyana mentions she's considering declaring a kinesiology minor. Dani's straight up like "why just a minor? don't you like it way more than business or whatever-the-fuck? you can still change your major, yeah?" Kyana's like "huh, i think i can? i don't know yet though. Business is more... there's more job opportunities, i guess?" Dani says Kyana could keep business as a minor then, since she's probably already got like half the required courses for it. Kyana thinks about it.

- Kyana is walking to her one evening class from the animal shelter. Her and Ione were helping out with a vaccination clinic the shelter was holding. she couldn't help with the vaccinations, obviously, but she helped with, like, client intake and stuff. Ione was really good with the nervous animals. anyways, before class she stops in to see the kinesiology department head, Dr. Enoch. She wants to know what switching majors would be like. Enoch notes that her grades are pretty lackluster and that she'd probably need to bring her grades up a bit before the administration would let her declare a new major. Enoch offers his help, pointing Kyana to resources around campus, etc. He asks about what Kyana feels like she struggles with the most, and when she explains, he's like "oooohhh, okokok i've heard that one before. go to the uni's medical centre, tell them exactly what you told me, and say that your advisor(s) have recommended you get an educational psych assessment focusing on adhd. your uni health insurance plus provincial student funding should cover any costs. alright?"

- Kyana's working part-time (25ish hours a week) over the summer at a local café (Wild Springs Café & Bistro) to save for when her funding cuts off. Her bosses are Finbar and Elyse, who were Dani's neighbors growing up. Dani frequently stops at the café for coffee runs for her work, even though it's a 10 minute drive. She says that it's cause the coffee's better here than any Tim's or McD's and also the longer drive gives her more of a break, but really it's mostly because she likes annoying Finbar. Kyana learns the absolutely wild lore behind Finbar and Elyse's relationship. Ione picks Kyana up after her shift and confesses her romantic feelings. Kyana has a hard time reacting and tries her best to turn Ione down ("you're my best friend, and i love you. i love you so much. but—i don't really think i love you in the same way you love me? i don't think i can love anybody that way. i... never have. i can't really imagine it, if that makes sense? i'm sorry.") Ione cries, Kyana offers a hug, Ione refuses and says goodnight.

- Kyana is leaving the doctor's office, adhd diagnosis in hand (figuratively speaking). [NOTE THAT THE DIAGNOSTIC CLINIC HAD TO CONTACT DR. SEPHRUM SINCE SHE'S THE ONLY PERSON WHO KNEW KYANA AS A CHILD. DR. SEPHRUM WAS NOT EXACTLY THRILLED.] She's in a mix of shock and relief and happiness and when she gets home she collapses on the floor to pet Plug. Dani asks how it went and when Kyana tells her, Dani fist bumps her like "hell yeah, brain buddies!" this is how Kyana learns that Dani is autistic. Kyana has barely heard from Ione in a month and a half, now, (Ione's even been volunteering at the shelter on opposite weekends from Kyana) and asks if Dani knows what she's up to. Dani says she doesn't, but she'll reach out. Meanwhile, Kyana needs to contact her school's accessibility office in order to get the accomodations she needs, which is a whole other hurdle. She wishes she had Ione to support her.

- Dani contacts Ione. As soon as she brings up Kyana, Ione gets very weird about it. She tries to change the subject and is generally very cagey. Dani gives up and tells Kyana about it. Dani asks about what even happened between the two of them. Kyana explains and is generally very distraught, says she thinks it's her fault but she doesn't know what else she could've done. Dani is very matter-of-fact and is like "you did exactly what you thought was best and let her down easy, the rest of this is Ione's shit to figure out". Kyana sees her point but doesn't feel much better.

- Kyana and Ione start their second year of uni. Kyana's grades go up significantly and she is able to switch majors. she keeps business as a minor because she basically already has all the credits she needs for it. However, this means that Kyana and Ione don't have nearly as many classes together. In their one business class together, Ione acts very standoffish and avoids Kyana. Until one day, they end up in a group/partner project together (Kyana was away sick the day it was assigned, and Ione hadn't found a group, so they end up having to partner up) for their final assignment in that class. Incidentally, Ione's been performing very well in her wrestling matches, but she looks run ragged and frequently complains about being really sore.

- After a very awkward evening of working on the assignment together at the school library, Ione needs to get home. However, it's completely dark out and Kyana knows she's not keen on walking home alone when it's dark out. Also Ione generally looks like shit and Kyana wants to try and do something nice for her. So Kyana asks if Ione wants her to walk her home, and Ione's like "I... yeah. I'd appreciate that." At the end of the walk, before Ione goes inside, Kyana says something along the lines of "You know I don't resent you or anything, right? I still wanna be friends. I really, really want to." Ione is like "not right now you don't. i'm sure. not until i stop... wanting you. you can pretend it doesn't make things weird but i know it does." Kyana tries to impress upon the fact that it really doesn't but Ione doesn't really believe her. they agree on a time and date to finish the assignment and then say bye.

and uhhhhhh that's the last beat i'd written down. which is not the best place to leave off, huh. but!! i also wrote down what i called "the killscreen/end conditions" for the story, which are as follows:

- Kyana and Ione in QPR, Dani is their best friend (if Ione was a middle aged man she'd call Dani "wife #2")

- Kyana has her kinesiology degree and becomes a certified physiotherapy assistant

- Ione drops out of university and goes to college to get her veterinary technician diploma

- Dani starts her own appliance repair business (?)

OUAUGH i forgot how much i like this AU... i really wanna actually figure out how it ends one of these days,,

hello I have recently been made aware that a bad situation I am in is much worse than I thought, and I really could use some fluffy (or honestly angsty too) rwd thoughts or headcanons

[benevolenterrancy]

Swords pining for each other's cultivator is my new favorite type of pining. Love your NieYao content! <3

I don't suppose we could get Baxia or Hensheng throwing a tantrum while Jin Guangyao / Nie Mingjue are away, leaving their owners to deal with the embarrassing aftermath?

Also, do you have any recs you'd recommend with these two?

this is the exact moment Nie Huaisang realised he was going to have to start meddling in his big brother's love life (con't: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Hensheng, on the other hand, doesn't throw tantrums but WILL sulk...

[treasureplcnet]

also quite obsessed with karl being as detached from the story as he is. there's nothing that makes him have to be the detective that has to be involved, but he unknowingly dooms himself by agreeing to work with the KYAL cult. every other detective basically deals with elias head on except weissman, who only meets him right before he kills him. like he's right when he says "by my choices" because everything that leads him to being mixed up with the mannix cult is himself. it's the gambling debts and the choice to do the dirty work for an organisation he knows nothing about. he's the only one that doesn't encounter that body doing police work and it's specifically because he's told to cover it up. he gets himself into the mess and eventually fixes it but the fact that esther always dies in the doomed timelines and he's always too late even if he starts wanting to change things ("till this child. esther.") it just makes me very ill

[piromina]

huge props to marinette for spinning up that lie so fast and on the spot, too. I thought I was good but damn. of course she must have had a general idea of what she was going to say to adrien beforehand going off of gabriel's "make me look good" and her own love telling her that the truth would hurt adrien even more, but that's just a very vague idea. she could not have possibly spun up that entire story of a lie in her head beforehand with all that was going on - dealing with all the truths coming in one after the other, the crying, the emotional trauma, getting the kwamis back -

and of course, there's adrien. he is one of the highest things on her list of priorities, his safety being the first thing she needs to take care of. the problem is, she doesn't know how. the only thing she can do in that situation is lie. a small lie. just one to make it better for now and then she can make it a long-term lie later. make sure no one else finds out.

and once she started telling the lie, once the first words were out of the mouth, it was all improvisation. her next words showed up in her head as she was going, spinning up a believable story, just good enough to be taken as the truth. she rambled - a rookie mistake for liars - but you couldn't blame her. she's a professional liar, almost, with her superhero identity, but this one is different. just one hour after learning the truth she had to cover up all this with no warning beforehand.

she couldn't tell adrien the truth. but she couldn't do much to comfort him either. ladybug couldn't tell him something only marinette knows.

she had to lie. she had to come up with something on the spot. those words would haunt her for the rest of her life - that lie was all she could think about for the next couple of months because she had to make it work. she had to keep the truth and make everything work out. it wasn't a big deal. she just had to tell adrien something, anything that would comfort him! what would comfort him about his father? what would convince him that he was a good guy this whole time? that he was a, a, a hero! yes, she would tell him that. it was a white lie! she wasn't a bad person! she just had to tell adrien that his father was a hero so that he would never have to know the truth and suffer like she did. he was a hero.

was.

once that word came out of her mouth, there was no going back.

[ppushable]

Fanfic writer interview

tysm for the tag eb! sorry i took so long getting to it. i swear it was screaming at me from the drafts the whole time

How many work do you have on AO3?

4! (but one of them doesn’t really count because it’s a test)

What's your total AO3 word count?

84,177

What are your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

two ibuprofen - 92 notes

low tide - 44 notes

just us - 26 notes

ofcwbo - i’m not sure but she’s definitely at the bottom

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes i do! i love that people take the time and effort to do this and i want to show my gratitude always. they didnt have to comment but they did. fics are so personal as well imo, seeing what other people have to say about it is. i’m not sure how to describe it but it makes me want to yell into a pillow.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

ofcwbo will have the edgiest ending, but since i haven’t actually finished any of my (posted) fics other than just us, it has to take the title by default. (it does have a very angsty ending though. and an angsty beginning and middle)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

using the above logic, just us by default….? (it would be anything in the rose tinted hours collection (that being two ibu or low tide (for now (👁️)) because that’s my happiness and i shall keep angst away from it with a 10 km pole)

Do you write crossovers?

nope

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope! if that happens i’ll wither and die

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

no

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

oh dear god. my origin story

back in my reddit phase (i was like 13? leave me alone) i made art for a fandom which mustn’t be named and met another person there. we became friends (stranger danger, i know, i’m smarter now) and somehow we started writing fic. it went pretty well, they would make most of the plot and the chapter outline and i would go in and edit it to make it make sense. we had a good run, all things considered. we then moved on to another fandom (read: they dragged me into another fandom) and we wrote for that one as well, except this time i got the opportunity to write my own chapters with my own ocs. that’s when i started realizing how nice and cool this was.

if youre seeing this, J, hi.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

jean and i. alternatively, me and jean (YEAH FOR SELFSHIP DELULU I LOVE BEING INSANE)

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

i don’t have such weaknesses. i WILL finish all my wips.

(ofcwbo. it’s going to drag on forever. deep inside a part of me wants to be realistic and say that it’s a little unrealistic for me to actually get down everything i wanted in a way that satisfies me. maybe i dont even WANT to finish it, because the fic has been such a comfort in the back of my mind for so long that the idea of it suddenly. terminating. is terrifying. maybe i’m overthinking it. i just dont want that world in my head to die, whether that be by fading away quietly or suddenly coming to an end.)

What are your writing strengths?

toughie. i think my descriptions are solid, as well as getting into the mc’s head (but that can just be attributed to the first person pov thing aha).

What are your writing weaknesses?

planning whatever i’m trying to write - i dont control it, it infects my brain and hands and forges its own way. i’m also not a huge fan of proofreading (this mostly applies to the earlier chapters of ofcwbo (i get embarrassed)). i also have a tendency to repeat a certain phrase or metaphor in a fic without realizing it. sequences of actions are hard to write too.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i try not to do it too much because it can be confusing and having to translate/provide a translation can break the flow. but i do like adding in little phrases sometimes based on my hcs for what languages the characters speak

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

i’m not sure i have one. i’m deep in the bowels of jean/reader purgatory and i don’t see a way out

What's your favorite fic you've written?

just us. <3

@firefly--bright no pressure (yes pressure)

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[moldy-flowers]

The interesting experience of being pro Sasuke, anti konoha, pro tobirama, anti Naruto ending, pro Sasusaku, anti Itachi, pro Sakura, anti SasuNaru, pro Tobirama×Izuna, anti Madara, pro karin, anti Orochimaru, pro Uchiha and anti Hashirama. And also as much as I hate the guy danzo was kind of hot when he was younger...

[waitineedaname]

the experience of writing fic for svsss has been absolutely insane so far. I posted a fic less than 24 hours ago and it already has twenty comments. I have been in so many fandoms where you have to BEG to get comments, where you'd be lucky to get more than ten comments and the ratio between hits and kudos/comments/bookmarks was vast, but so far the scum villain fandom has been super responsive! The hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks ratios have been super tight, even on my fics which have all been oneshots under 10k!

And it's not just me! I regularly see fanart for svsss fics, which was a rare sight in a lot of other fandoms I've been in. People reblog minifics that get posts to tumblr and leave tags and replies on them. I've written for a lot of fandoms in my time, and this a shocking amount of fic engagement compared to many other fandoms I've been in!!

I can't help but wonder if it's because of the nature of scum villain itself? Other people have talked about how the story uniquely appeals to writers, and it ultimately is about the relationship between a writer and reader, especially in a fan space. I can't help but wonder if the combination of this being a fandom with a high density of writers and it being a story about engaging with writing encourages a fandom culture that is super engaged with fanfiction!