#so give me hte CONFESSIon

[konohamaru-sensei]

To me, Kimi ni todoke is a perfect story

What can I say now that I have finished season 3? The season 3 we didn't even know we would be getting? Well, I used to tell friends that I am happy with whatever comes, but now im greedy and I want it all. I am very Kazehaya about new KnT seasons, I guess.

Anyway, I have been browsing the tag a little to find gifs and reactions and such, and I already see discussions (not much tbh but still) about how this and that in the story should be different and while the anime did skip things (Rip to "you are mine now" Nakamura-san would have sounded SO GOOD!), people are satisfiedI think. I am, at least, very happy.

But to me, Kimi ni todoke is perfect. and not perfect in this way that i have small problems but overall I'm happy. No, I find it perfect perfect. Every storyline every character development from beginning to end is perfect. I guess people complaining about Ayane or whatever, even if its not here on tumblr that much, just show me that I can't interact with fans of this fandom either.

See, ever since I found KnT in 2009 when I was just 17 (about the age of the characters in the story funnily enough) I have always rewatched it when I was doing poor mentally. I must have seen it 12-15 times over the years, I've probably watched it twice after my fathers death alone. These characters mean the world to me, all of them. I love all of them.

But the girls! At different times of my life I could always connect to another one of them. So much so that while I like Chizu best and think she resembles me the most (in fact, I think she is the anime character that is closest to me in personality), I find a part of me in all of them.

When I found the story I had just lost my friendgroup (because an ex lied about me, it happens) and I had to go back to being alone, so I emphasised with Sawako (and her distancing herself from her friends always makes me cry, without fail, always).

When I moved out to study in 2011 and was mentally so low in 2012 and dated guys because I thought otherwise they wouldnt be my friends, I reread Ayanes okinawa arc over and over and over again.

And of course I have my friends call me by a different name than my given name because my given name is boring lol Kurumi and me.

And ah, Chizu, it would be too long to explain. Too personal. Nobody would care. I had a best friend once that I lost because I was scared of our friendship ending. I love Chizuru because we are the same, and I'm jealous of her because she is better than me. I don't have time or space to express my feelings. Level up to Nisi friendship level 6 to hear tragic backstory.

Also, I can't talk about this show without mentioning how much the voice actors mean to me. Long before I knew any seiyuu-names I knew Kazehayas-voice. In fact, I hated oikawa in hq SPECIFICALLY because he has kazehayas voice and isnt nice! You gotta be nice with that voice man! Their voices are tattooed onto my soul and when I hear them in other places I always think of KnT first.

I love them so very much that when I watched the Tokyo E ncounter episode with Nakamura Yuuchi (Ryu) and Sanpei Yuuko (Chizuru) when they are playing Halo and he is teasing her for having bad aim, I started crying - like sobbing. It was so weird I have you know but I just sat there and I couldn't get it together.

Anyway, Kimi ni todoke is perfect to me. Everything about it means the world to me. I have to physically restrain myself to not rewatch the season again.

Please netflix, finish it, please. You may cut some things. I will forgive you if you cut some things, but give me the end.

[artemx746]

May we have some directors commentary for the hecadora fic pls pls pls👀

well since you asked so nicely

(okay this got like a lil longer than expected so it's under the cut)

Eudora scoffed. “When have I ever—” She took another calming breath and returned to packing things away, she packed some things that definitely weren’t hers but neither of them were going to comment on it. 

There's 2 things I wanna comment in here: the first is Eudora is just casually committing theft we love her, the second is that I'm not 100 percent sure what Eudora's motivation behind this is, I'm torn between her being distracted and not remembering which things belong to her or Hecate because for a while that distinction hasn't really mattered to her or if she just wants something to remember the happy time by and not just all the terrible things that have happened

 She looked longingly at one of the toys they both knew Eudora had made for one of the kids before hiding it in her bag behind piles of clothes. “We were supposed to be partners.”

I'm letting past me explain my feelings on this

No but seriously I don't know what demon possessed me because I never usually get that sad about romance but this got me. And it's just the dynamic of them loving each other but Eudora is just a constant give and give and give and she never takes because she doesn't think of herself and what she wants and Hecate not knowing if she'll end up pushing Eudora away but she ends up doing so anyway ahjdfshjhlgdslfdfj. They make me ill

Hecate so desperately wanted to say that they still could be, that there was a future for them, that it hadn’t been ruined. But they had both been present for their argument, they had both heard the things said, they both knew both sides had meant it and they were both too prideful to take anything back. “Go on,” Eudora said. “Say what you’ve been wanting to say for the past hour, day, week since we both knew this wasn’t working. Say that I’m being completely irrational, that we can still fix this, that neither of us need to change. That you don’t need to be better because you are fine just the way you are.”

There's just something about Eudora echoing Hecate's thoughts that just scratches an itch in my brain, like yesss you know this person so well including while you're fighting so you end up using all that you know about them against them

Also, not including the fight was kinda intentional because I'm a big fan of seeing the result of things and being left to draw your own conclusions, the fight isn't hte imprtant thing, it's how much it messes them up. There's an edit of isat that does this really well. If I were to describe my idea, I think it would be like that final bridge of dogbird (when the bell rings/ my mouth waters/I'm a habit/that won't alter etc etc)

“Well,” Hecate watched her tie the string around the button on her bag, holding it closed, she picked it up and looked out the window, it was almost morning by now and Hecate was sure they were both having the same thought: that, on any normal day Eudora would’ve been sleeping in this very room, exhausted from how hard she was working and, up until two days ago, Hecate would’ve been right beside her. She walked over to Hecate and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I want you to be better, not for me, but for yourself, because I can see that this,” She gestured to all of Hecate, which felt just a little rude, “isn’t good for you. I wish there was a world where I could be there with you while you do but I… can’t stay here anymore. It’s better for the both of us, I think so anyways”

She walked to the door, “Congratulations on the new job.” was the last thing Hecate said to her. “Thank you, I hope you find something better too.” And Eudora closed the door behind her.

Confession: this is not hecadora propaganda, this is Eudora propaganda /j.

I wasn't joking when i say writing this made me fall in love with her. If Rick won't write her as anything other than a joke character, I will. In this scene she's not only trying to convince Hecate that her leaving is best, she's trying to convince herself. She knows that staying wouldn't be good for her but it is in her nature to help people, especially those she loves, and she wants so badly to be there but she can't. And you can tell she still does love Hecate and that's honestly the saddest part of it, they both love each other but they just couldn't stay together just because of the types of people they were not being good for each other and it's not either of their faults it's just how it turned out.

[shewhowas39]

chapter 19 sneak peek!

working on chapter 19 of Juniper & Starlight! not sure yet when this will be up. Monday or Tuesday, i hope? but this one is gonna get spicy. here's a little preview before the spicy bits start. the lead up, if you will.

***

“Are you all right?” she asks. 

Astarion has to resist the urge to wince at the genuine worry in her voice. He’s still not used to people showing concern for him. It’s part of what he wants from her, of course, and yet it still itches, like a shirt made of cheap fabric. 

“Oh, yes, quite fine,” he answers. “My backside might be a bit bruised, however.” 

“Sorry.” June scrambles off of him and gets back to her feet. “I didn’t mean to knock you down. I saw you struggling to close the book and I felt a whole lot of necromancy and I got real scared something bad was about to happen to you and…” She trails off as Astarion also stands, dusting off his trousers. He watches her eyes dart to the book and then back to him. “How’s that going, by the way?”

“It’s a unique read, certainly,” he says, tossing a glare at the book. The two dark amethyst gems on hte cover seem to stare menacingly back at him. “A tome of necromancy guarded by spirits.”

“I take it those were the voices I heard when I touched it?” 

“Yes. They became louder when I opened it, surging into my mind. I can’t reason with them. They exist to protect that book.” He walks over and picks up the book, grimacing at the faint sound of whispers, taunting him from the shadows. “Someone went through a lot of trouble to protect this tome,” he says, more to himself than to June. “It has to be something more than a book of cantrips.”

“Astarion.” June takes a step closer to him, her eyes the color of midnight in this dim lighting. “I know you’re hoping to find something useful in there, but that thing is dangerous. I can feel it. I ain’t telling you not to read it, but please be careful.” She offers a smile that seems rather sad. “We already got one crazy person in the party. Don’t wanna add another.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I’d hate to be as mad as Lae’zel.” He’s pleased when that earns a little chuckle from her. “But perhaps you’re right. It may be best to put it aside for now.” Astarion sighs and scowls down at the book. “I still think it may have the key to giving me an edge over Cazador, but I can’t learn anything as long as those spirits remember their mission.”

“We’ll figure it out,” June says. “I promise.” 

He raises an eyebrow at her. “We?”

“Of course. I ain’t just gonna leave you hanging out to dry when all this mindflayer business is done with. Like I told you, Astarion, you’re my friend.” 

Her friend. 

Astarion moves his gaze back down to the book and away from June’s face. He needs to be careful. Last night, he’d nearly confessed everything to her. He’d been so surprised by her easy trust in him and so confounded by her declaring herself to be his friend that he’d nearly let the monster crawl out of the void in his chest and claw its way up through his throat. He’d nearly let the guilt he’s been avoiding looking in the eye go free. 

Thank the Gods she’d had one of her visions and hadn’t heard the first part of his admission. And thank them again that she’d kissed him and shut him up completely. 

In theory, he already has what he wants. She is concerned for him, she trusts him, she seems at least somewhat invested in his well being. That should make him feel good. It should mean his plan is working. Or perhaps even that it’s unnecessary at this point. But Astarion doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t trust that it can be that easy. And he certainly doesn’t trust that, if he told her the truth of his intentions, she’d still call him a friend. 

No. He needs to be careful and keep that guilt chained up in the darkest part of his soul, away from the light of day. He needs to not feel it. To not feel anything. 

But, by the Hells, June, with all her painful sincerity and her big, sad eyes, really makes that difficult sometimes.

“Well, if nothing else, perhaps I can beat Cazador to death with it,” he says, waving the book around theatrically before shoving it into his bag and silencing the voices in his mind. “But you came over here looking for me. Did you need something?”

“I actually came to see if you needed something.” June says, gesturing to her neck. 

“Oh!” Astarion’s mood instantly picks up at the prospect of her blood. “Now that you mention it, darling, I am feeling rather peckish.” He sidles up beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Your tent or mine?”

***

readers of J&S know that things get a little steamy once these two are alone in a tent together... this chapter is gonna take that to a new level. i'm excited!

[420technoblazeit]

I genuinely think we could be good friends if I wasn’t so socially inept and terrified of what others think of me. You’re super cool and at least give the air of confidence, and I admire it!!

dude il ltell u a secret im also scared to talk to ppl so if u dotn message me and i dont message u we'll juts b sitting here like scared cats on the opposite ends of hte fuckin room so just message me!!!

(Confess something you've thought about me on anon)

[sovawife]

My dearest Minho,

May this letter find you well.

I must confess, even though I haven't even sent this at the time of writing, I know I will eagerly await your response. It is something that has never changed upon meeting you- wanting to listen to you, that is. Thank you for being such a strong voice in my life. I know I am not the best at conversation, and I always feel as if I need to repay you for your patience. Perhaps writing this can be some form of repayment…but that was not my original intention.

I love you. I feel as if we were made for each other-- one cannot play pool without a cue and cue ball…even though the idea of being fated is not one in reality. Because of this, it makes our encounter all the more special. We are a 1 in a million of possibilities.

I wish I was not so…new to this. I know you would not love me any different if I talked more, or kissed more. But deep within me I would love nothing more than to do that and more. As it is what I love about you- your voice, your laughter, your affections. It will take time, but I will get to there eventually. At the moment, however, I feel to reiterate my feelings by writing them to you. And afterwards, once you have read this, perhaps…perhaps a kiss. If you wouldn't mind.

I care for you, and wish for your care in return. You are a great light in my heart. Continue to keep me in your thoughts as you are in mine.

Yours, with love, Venom

ok so first heres connecticut right now. it will be on the news tomorrow btw everyone look forward to it you'll see some guy destroyed the netirety of hte state dont worry it was just me

lets also get this out of the way that i am one finger down because. ihave a band aid on one of htem and i alos cant feel my fucking hands its like so cold in here im going to die why didnt you add holding my hand onto your message venom/j

anyways now that we got these disclaimers outta the way

here comes the mental illness where i try to seriously respond to a letter:

JASJODISAIGA2I3[T9302IT930IA903GOKOPGREKLG;ERAMGLA; HIG WHO NEY HIAPWEA HIEA GAWGEAW GWAE MEOW MEOW MEO MEOW MOEW HAIEG AIWAEGIOAWMGKLEWMAGKLWAEMG MWAL HI HONEY HI HI HI THANK YOU FOR WRITING OT ME I RELALY EPAORPPRECIATE LYOU LISTEING TO ME. IM GOING DSOPGAKKGODASKOGPSAKGOPSD sorry i cant read this without goingg GAISDGDISAJGDASJGJIGDAS ok ok i go t this YOU DONT NEED TO REPAY ME I WOULD KILL A MAN FOR YOU. OK. ITS OK HONEY UR TRYING UR BEST THATS WHAT MATTERS UR TAKING LITTLE STEPS NAD ITS OK!! OK I CANT WRITE THIS RESPONSE WITHOUT FUCKING EXPLODING BUT YES I WILL GIVE YOU A KISS COME HERE MUAH MUAH KISSY FORMY BELOVED HUSBAND MUAH ILY I WOULD UGASHGAKMAGGKMLLGMWAKLMGWAKLWGMELKGMWAGELKMWALKMAEGWLKMEAGWLKEAWG I CANT EWALKLG;EWAKGL;EAW IC IAWTNICWA TIAMLAEWML;ATKAL;T ML;AW CRIYNG SOBS GIJSGJSLKDMKSLDMGKSL I ALMOST THREW MY PHONE ACROSS THE ROOM IN MY AUNTS HOUSE WHILE READING THIS BTW REALLY FUN FACT IT WAS SUPER FUN MY BROTHER THOUGHT I WAS INSANE OK DID OYU KNOW MY OCUSINES TALKED ABOUT YOU IT WAS FUNNY I ALMOST PASSED OUT LIKE 16 TIMES BUT ITS OK IM FINE NOW WE GOOD!!! IK U DO THE BAKING BUT I WILL MAKE YOU COOKIES WITH HEARTS ON THEM IM SO GOOD at baking like esriously so good i think im sleep deprived here typing this im so sorry followers ill make this really short i almost passed out like 2 times writing this and am lightheaded right now too curse not taking my meds ever but heres just me at venom ok thanks bye i walked into the eletric fence

.

[rubyreduji]

i was gonna do this in the tags but im afraid i'll run out of room lol

OKAY SO I WILL BE GIVING PLAY BY PLAY THOUGHTS LOL

NOT SELLING HIS BODY HELP DJSFLKA you know...at least he's determined

the pride and prejudice conversation is so real

even the mention of jihoon gets me excited

soonie is so cute though like ugh

awww yn trying to break it to him that his scores were bad

“You’re that confident?” “In you.” WHEN I TELL YOU I DIED

soonyoung sparkle i love it omg

its cute how they like know each other but they're not super close but still are like friends and care abt each other

i love that dynamic so much like progressively getting closer

“He flirts so easily it feels genuine” BUT WHAT IF IT IS GENUINE

all the little details you add are so cute esp when it's yn knowing those little details abt soonyoung

HELP THE HOSTILITY TOWARDS SEOKMIN LOL

“The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in” LMFAOOO

soonyoung and yn holding hands <<

when he's spontaneous <3

WHEN HE'S LOYAL <<<<333

jihoon crumbs yes

yn thinking that if soonyoung passes it's not a total fail is so cute like

jihoon calling soonyoung yn's boyfriend lol

omg deep drunk conversations its getting real guys

THEY WAY YOU WRITE THEM AND THEIR CHEMISTRY IS SO FUCKING AMAZING like i can't describe it but i can just feel what they are feelings and feel like i really know them as characters

ugh soonyoung studying with yn instead of being with his frat does something to me like ik it's for the bet but i also think its bc he likes yn hehe

HE GOT THE BOOK BACK OMG AHHHHHHH

yn's conflict about only have three friends...im so sad like ahhhh but also its such a real struggle like i love how realistic it is

YN STOP BEING DAFT HE FUCKING LIKES YOU SO OFC HE TALKS ABOUT YOU AND ALL OF HTE FRAT BOYS ARE THE WORLD'S WORST WINGMEN

all of the frat boys caring about them is cute though lol

okay i know he wanted a 179 but a 167 on the LSAT is not bad

omg angst

omg i was so invested i didnt' give updated BUT SCREAMING AT THEM OMG

also jihoon's mario kart driving made me laugh

CONFESSION YEAHHHHHHH ugh it's so well written too like the feelings are so real

FUCK THE ENDING IS SOOOOO CUTE LIKE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I LOVE JIHOON AND JUN AND UGHHHH ANOTHER BANGER FIC FR

What? Like It’s Hard?

gn reader x soonyoung

summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows. 

Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract

warnings: swearing, drinking, food, arguing, a couple sex jokes, one spicy scene at the end but no actual smut, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????

full wc: 24.3k

playlist! - i'm not very good at this but i tried to add songs alternating between yn and soonyoung :)

a/n: hello!! first of all, sorry this so long! it's been a very very busy summer. thank you to everyone who has continued to show interest in the story, it's really kept me going. i honestly have no idea what this is anymore but i hope it does not disappoint :) as always i appreciate feedback of any form <3 thank you again for reading and have a lovely day! finally, happy scoups day :)

a/n2: a special shout out to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta and for helping me fact check... why do i keep writing about lawyers when i know absolutely nothing about the field.......

“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it. 

“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips. 

“I won’t do it,” you say. 

Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue hiding in the crook of his elbow, bright against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his new hair, blonde bordering on white. Hardly the first time he’s done something insane for a bet. 

“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you. 

“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. The other students shoot dirty looks at you, actually in the library to study (like you were, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks the water bottle out of reach. 

“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. 

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”

“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people don’t apply to law school on a dare?” 

“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says, “just get a 179 on the LSAT.” 

As if that makes it any better. You eye Soonyoung and his tight grip on the plastic. Maybe it’s a lost cause and you should just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that have survived since freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage. 

“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. This won’t be easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat bros at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated. 

“I’ll pay you!” 

“With what money?” 

Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film (not that he’s ever seen on). He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next. 

“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns to face you, eyes on the floor. 

“Oh my god, Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!” 

“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.” 

“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?” 

“What did you think I meant?” 

You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.” 

“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!” 

“Why do you need me?” 

“Because you’re the smartest person I know,” he says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts. 

“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung–when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to drink. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it. 

“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.” 

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.” 

“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.” 

Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.  

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out. 

“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds. 

“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung: he’s deadly serious. 

You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice from Jun?” 

“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.” 

“That’s the one with the zombies?” 

“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?” 

“That’s not the original book?” 

“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is Jane Austen, in the 1800s.” 

“Oh,” Soonyoung says. 

“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.” 

“How many movies are there?” 

“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that’s iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’ 

“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.” 

“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.” 

“He’s the friend from your history class?” 

“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.” 

“I thought you hated everyone in that class.” 

“Oh, I did,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.” 

Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is. 

“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.” 

You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.” 

“I thought you already took it?”

“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.” 

Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”

“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.” 

“Oh, YN,” he says, “I’m counting on it.” He even winks. 

You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious–it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping. 

You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?” 

Soonyoung glances at the time on his phone. “Shit.” He takes off, sprinting across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you. 

“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again. Like a whirlwind, he’s gone again, leaving you to stroll across campus and wonder what you just signed up for. 

.

.

Soonyoung’s brow furrows into a frown, lips pulling together in a pout. He rests his chin on his hands, looking up at you from the table like a puppy that knows he’s in trouble. “That bad?” 

“Your analytical reasoning was good!” You say, not wanting to destroy him just yet. “The logical analysis wasn’t that bad either, you just need practice.” 

“Wasn’t there a third section?” 

“The score for reading comprehension was pretty bad.” Horrendous, actually, but you can’t tell him that, not when he’s deflating faster than a balloon at a knife throwing contest. He sits back, head knocking lightly against the back of the stiff library chairs. 

“We can work with this! It’s really not that bad,” you say. You reach out instinctively, wrapping your hands over his hands. Your thumb rests against the soft smooth skin of the back of his hand, the rest of your fingers brushing lightly against his calloused fingers. You jerk back when you realize what you’re doing, patting his hands once and grabbing the workbook in front of him as if it’s what you meant to do all along. You study the upside down words, not daring to look at the disgust that’s probably painted on Soonyoung’s face. 

“You can start with practicing the logic problems,” you say, flipping through the work book. “I’ll figure out a strategy for the reading portion.” 

Soonyoung heaves a sigh, sitting up and hunching over the workbook. You flip open one of your old workbooks and try to pretend like you’re not trying to melt away from embarrassment. 

“This isn’t very much teaching,” Soonyoung says without looking up. “Lots of problem solving.” 

“I don’t really know what I’m doing either,” you say. “I just watched a lot of youtube videos when I was studying last year. I should have known better than to take it over the summer, though.” 

Soonyoung glances up. “How come?” 

You chew on your lip. You’ve known Soonyoung for a while now, but you’ve never talked to him like this, mentioning any real things other than complaining about roommates. Soonyoung would listen, probably say the ‘right’ things, but it’s a study session, so you just say, “Just not good timing.” 

He nods, returning to his humming. You turn to your own workbook, trying to figure out how to get Soonyoung to actually read the passages for the reading comprehension. Twenty minutes pass in an instant and Soonyoung drops his pencil, sliding his journal with the answers back in front of you. You flip to the answer key, scanning between the two. 

“When are you taking it again?” Soonyoung asks while he waits. 

“Just before Halloween,” you say. Exactly 38 days from now, according to the IMPENDING DOOM countdown clock on your phone. 

“That soon?” 

You shrug. “I wanted to give myself time to take it again in case I bomb it and it had to be before midterms, so, yeah.” 

“Is it really that bad to take all your tests at once?” Soonyoung asks. 

“I mean, finals week pretty much kills me every semester. I actually thought I was cutting it close with only two weeks between it and midterms.” 

“Is November cutting it too close?” 

“Depends on when in November you plan on taking it,” you say, “though you probably won’t be able to take it again if you don’t like your score.” 

“Not a problem for me,” Soonyoung says. He doesn’t waver against your raised eyebrow. “I’m getting that 179, first try.” 

“You’re that confident?” 

“In you.” He winks. “Also the bet is off if I don’t get it on the first try.” 

You nod. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” You glance at your calendar. “

“November 18th.” 

“That’s not too bad, you dodged between midterms and finals, there should be plenty of cram time.” 

Soonyoung shrugs. “I just scheduled it so that I would get the results before the Christmas party.” 

“I didn’t think you would be the religious type.” 

“Oh, I’m not,” he says. “The frat has this annual post-finals party before people go back home for holiday break, usually on the last day of finals. There’s no way I’m letting Seungkwan get away with my hard earned Playstation, and there’s no way he’d miss the party.” 

“You can’t just buy your own game?” 

“It’s a console actually,” he says, “and that’s not the point.” You prepare for some lecture about honor or frat code or something overly dramatic and inspired by any of the countless war propaganda movies he loves, but he closes his mouth. 

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” you say. You turn back his sheet, half the answers marked with a dark blue X because red feels too cruel. “You’re clearly committed.” 

He sighs at the answers, flipping back to the first question and frowning. You think the conversation is over, but without looking up from glaring at the right answers, he says, “You should come.” 

“To?” 

“The Christmas party.” 

You stare at the top of his head but he doesn’t seem to notice. You wonder how he manages to keep his hair so blonde without ruining his scalp but you don’t see any dandruff. “Me?” You finally say. 

“You said you’d come, like, freshman year,” he says. “You never did.” 

You did promise, back when you saw him for class every day. But frat parties weren’t your scene back then. They aren’t your scene now. Nothing about blasting music and binge drinking appeals to you, and yet Soonyoung peeking at you from his notebook makes you feel guilty anyways. He looks at you like he really doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to go.

And that’s the worst part: for Soonyoung, you would go. When he looks at you with the damn Soonyoung Sparkle, you’d do anything. 

“I’ll… think about it,” you finally say. 

He looks at you for a moment longer, then nods, like he didn’t really expect you to say yes. You try not to feel like you’re letting him down. 

“Can you explain this one to me,” he asks, turning the book so you can see it from across the table. 

You skim the question, which turns out to be a series of questions about stained glass windows. You take a moment to glance between Soonyoung’s answers and the correct ones. 

“Walk me through your process,” you say. 

“Okay, I start with…”

.

. 

“Soonyoung, are you even listening?” 

He blinks at you, lifting his head from his arms. “Something about strategies? For reading?” 

You snap the book shut, shaking your head. You open your mouth, speech on responsibility and studying on the tip of your tongue but one look into Soonyoung’s Sparkle Eyes (patent pending) and all the words are gone. You really need to figure out how to get around that super power. 

“Come on, it’s so nice out,” he says. “We should be outside.” He grabs your hand. “This is not studying weather, this is dating weather.” 

“Soonyoung your test is in two months, you seriously want to skip?” You don’t dignify the second part of his complaint with a response. The idea of Soonyoung on a date makes your stomach flip. 

He sighs. “No, but it’s October, we won’t get many more nice days, so can we at least go outside?” 

You hesitate a heartbeat too long and Soonyoung jumps up. He closes the workbook, knocking loose papers off the table and sending highlighters of every color flying in every direction. The chaos earns a couple side eyes from the people around you and a full on glare from the person directly next to him, but Soonyoung, as Soonyoung as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. He picks up the papers and highlighters, shoving them into his backpack without a folder and slinging it over his shoulder. You can only follow him, grabbing the drinks before he tries to carry them along his laptop. When it comes to Soonyoung, mixing liquids and technology is more dangerous than mixing alcohols. You haven’t forgotten The Coffee Incident, flooding his backpack at 8 in the morning. 

He drags you out of the library, though you don’t put up much of a fight. Soonyoung makes you want to relax, just a little, and when he smiles back at you as soon as he steps out of the sunlight, you find you don’t regret a thing. 

Soonyoung pulls his emergency blanket out of his blanket, passing it to you. He’s more prepared for naps than any class he’s ever taken but the thin fabric is soft so who are you to judge? He heads straight for the quad, which is already filled with people, some groups of friends, too many obvious couples with heads in each other's laps or arms wrapped around each other. Soonyoung settles down in a relatively unpopulated corner, taking the blanket back to shake it out the blanket a few times before laying it flat on the ground. 

Soonyoung groans when you pull out the workbooks as soon as you sit down. “There isn’t anything more fun to study?” 

“Soonyoung, it’s the LSAT,” you say. “It’s not really meant to be fun.” 

“But–” 

“You’re the one that wanted to go outside,” you remind him, tapping his arm with a pen. “If you’re too distracted we’ll have to go back into the library.” 

He gazes at the other people laughing for a long moment before turning to face you again. You raise your eyebrows and he takes the workbook from your hands, flipping it open to the sticky-note bookmark. 

The next twenty minutes are relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the chatter of the people around you, too far away to clearly hear, and Soonyoung humming while working through practice problems. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, though he bobs his head slightly. You wonder what Soonyoung is like when he isn’t trying to get out of studying–even outside of the party invites you’ve avoided, you rarely see him on campus (because you aren’t on campus when you don’t have to be). You almost went to dinner with him to celebrate passing the business class freshman year where you met him, but you got food poisoning and he never rescheduled. 

It’s for the best, though. Even like this, tutoring him minus payment of any kind, you can tell that spending too much time with him will be dangerous. He flirts so easily it feels genuine, and even though he can be ridiculous, he’s never been anything but lovely to you. And it doesn’t help that he’s hot. He glances up, as if he can feel you staring, but he just flashes a smile at you and ducks his head again. Damn frat bros with endearing charms that melt you like the perfect grilled cheese. 

Perfectly blue without a cloud in sight, the sky is an empty canvas above you. The air is just the right temperature, just between hot and cold, the sun ensuring that it never dips into the latter. Just the slightest breeze kisses your skin, lifting the edges of the papers but never flipping them. Soonyoung was right: the perfect date weather. 

“Soonyoung?” You turn your head to see a dark haired man standing over you. Wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and sides ripped open, you figure there’s a 80% chance he’s one of Soonyoung’s frat brothers. 

“Seokmin?” Soonyoung frowns. 

“You were actually serious?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the books. “You know Seungkwan said it as a joke, right?” 

“Yeah, but a bet is a bet,” Soonyoung says. “And I really want his Playstation.” 

Seokmin snorts. “You know he only said it because he knows you can’t do it.” 

“I’m not like I’m losing anything by trying.” Soonyoung sets his lips in a sharp line of determination (which you recognize from the dining hall when he sweet talks his way into free cookies). Seokmin raises his eyebrows at his aggression but eventually decides it’s not worth the fight. Instead, he plops down on the blanket, making a little triangle between the three of you. 

“You must be YN,” he says, extending his hand. His easy smile and the way he sat down without waiting for an invitation reminds you of Soonyoung. Unlike the faux blonde, it feels foreign and you shift a little closer to Soonyoung instinctively. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you lie. Seokmin’s eyes curl into little half moons when he smiles, apparently not noticing your awkwardness. You can’t help but feel like he’s intruding as he turns to Soonyoung and asks him to explain what he’s doing. Soonyoung explains it well, though it helps that he was working on the analytical reasoning section. 

It’s because he’s interrupting Soonyoung’s studying. That’s why it bothers you that he’s here, even though Soonyoung doesn’t seem to mind and Seokmin seems genuinely interested. Unfortunately, the revelation doesn’t stop you from wishing Seokmin would just leave.  

“I don’t know how you do any of this,” Seokmin says after Soonyoung explains the next problem. 

“It’s easy!” Soonyoung says. “Half the time the answer is in the question, you just have to know where to look!” 

“Quoting me?” You raise your eyebrows. 

“Well I did learn from the best!” 

“So cliche,” you mutter but the compliment gets you smiling anyway. You look up to find Seokmin looking at you. He has a strange look on his face, frowning, but not angrily. He looks a little bit like when Soonyoung can’t decide between the right answer and the second best option. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring. 

“What?” 

He pauses a long moment before answering, as if pondering how to answer. Finally, he says, “I like you.” 

You stare at him. Soonyoung had been diligently working on practice problems but his head jerks up at the words. 

“I mean, you’re a cool person,” Seokmin quickly says. “Good tutor for Soonyoung.” After hearing his name, Soonyoung grins and turns back to underlining in the workbook. 

“Tutor?” You say. “I really don’t think I’m doing all that much.” 

Seokmin shrugs. ”I don’t know many people that would spend this much time with someone if they aren't helping. Besides, either way, I’ve never seen Soonyoung this dedicated before.” 

“That’s because you don’t dare to bet against me,” Soonyoung says without looking up. 

“He might have a point there,” you say. Soonyoung takes a moment to smile at your support. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you’re cool,” Seokmin says. 

“Thank you?” You wait for him to say something else but he sits back and rests his hands behind him, stretching out in the sun a little more. Sighing, he tilts his head toward the sun. 

“Seems like the weather will turn cold soon,” he says. “This might be the last warm day of the year.” He glances at Soonyoung. “And you’re spending it here instead of pre-gaming the Tau party.” 

Soonyoung’s pencil freezes. He peeks up at Seokmin, then at you, then shrugs. “I take my bets seriously.” 

“Whatever,” Seokmin says. He lays back fully, half of his body sticking off the blanket into the grass. “What are the Ke$ha lyrics? ‘The party don’t start ‘til Soonyoung walks in?’” He doesn’t wait for a correction. “I think I’ll wait until you're finished and we’ll tear it up together.” 

Soonyoung glances at you, then unsuccessfully tries to hide his laughter at your expression. You don’t mean to be rude, but Seokmin really just invited himself all on his own and crashed your picnic. Study date. Outdoor study session. The name doesn’t matter, what does matter is it’s only supposed to be you and Soonyoung. 

“He’ll fall asleep in about five seconds,” Soonyoung whispers. “He doesn’t actually care about the party, he just likes my nap blankets.” On that point you can’t really blame Seokmin. 

“As long as it doesn’t disrupt your studying,” you say. 

“Right,” Soonyoung says, more to himself than you. “That’s what’s important.” 

You aren’t so oblivious that you miss his bitterness, but you are enough of a coward to decide not to ask about it. How do you even ask about something like that? You can barely answer his questions about the LSAT, so feelings? No chance. 

You flip open your own workbook and set a pencil case down to keep the book open and ignore the soft snores from Seokmin. Soonyoung hums, the soft breeze carrying the gentle tune to you and easing you into a false sense of comfort, planting the idea that it’s always been like this and it always will be. But Soonyoung will take the LSAT in November and you will graduate in the spring and there won’t be any more excuses for seeing him, let alone laying out in the sun with him. Letting yourself enjoy this moment has dangerous consequences for your heart. 

And yet you enjoy the warm sun on your skin and hum along with Soonyoung anyway. Seokmin is right: this kind of day won’t last long. 

.

.

You jump awake at the sound. It takes you a moment to register where you are, to blink the sleep out of your eyes and recognize the stiff library chairs, the yellow tinted lighting of the study rooms on the third floor. Built like a prison cell with no windows and stained linoleum floors, you aren’t entirely sure how you fell asleep. The last thing you remember is working on your essay on Sense and Sensibility, which was rather difficult since you haven’t had the time to finish rereading it. Your book rests on the table next to your open laptop, screen dark. 

A second knock reminds you why you woke up in the first place and you turn to the door. Through the glass door you see a student with a backpack hanging off their shoulder, half smiling. They turn the knob, opening the door just enough to stick their head in. 

“Hey, sorry, I think I have the room scheduled,” they say. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I lost track of time,” you say, slamming your laptop shut and shoving everything into your backpack. To their credit, the other student doesn’t rush you, even apologizing and telling you to take your time. But if you’ve lost the room, that means the two hours you had booked the study room for–the two hours you designated for writing the essay and doing problem sets–were spent asleep, which means the LSAT cram schedule has been completely thrown off with only three days before the test. 

You groan as you step into the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor. The farther up, the more intense the quiet levels get. Hopefully it won’t be so quiet that you fall asleep, but since you got a nap, you should be able to power through an all-nighter. It wouldn’t be the first time. You brace yourself to check your phone for the time, though being kicked out of the room means you already know your fate. 9:08 means that you have a little less than three hours until the library closes. You’ve done more with less time. 

The first couple desks are occupied by students but you don’t stray, heading for a familiar corner, ignoring the empty desks that line the stacks. Your corner, that you found freshman year during finals season when you couldn’t find an empty desk, is perfect: hidden behind the encyclopedia shelves with a light directly above it, only three dicks carved into it–all on the underside (discovered on a particularly bad day where you found it most comfortable to lay underneath and rethink your entire life). You smile at the small comfort, striding through the stacks with Sense and Sensibility still in your arms. 

You nearly drop the book when you see the backpack, abruptly turning despite the fact that it must have been obvious to whoever stole your corner that you were headed there. You feel rage boiling up and threatening to spill. You close your eyes, reminding yourself that the corner isn’t actually yours. Still, as you settle into a desk facing a giant window that reveals the dark campus, you can’t help but feel bitter. Your thoughts stray to the desk that should be yours, even as you pull out your computer. 

BATTERY LOW

The words light up your screen, mocking you before the screen falls dark again. You dig in your backpack for your charger that you always slip into the main pocket. You feel your underused pencil pouch, the single journal since you keep most of your notes on your laptop, LSAT prep book, your three folders, and no charger. Even when you look inside and lay the entire contents of your backpack on the desk in front of you, the only charger you find is for your phone. Which means the longer laptop cord is probably sitting on your desk, all the way back at your apartment. 

A twenty minute walk back, twenty minutes less for writing your essay. You can start it on your phone, maybe, though the thought of switching between reading the Sparknotes and typing already exhausts you. It’s moot anyways, since all you can do is sit and stare at the desk, covered in the contents of your soul. This is what your life has become: a stack of paper that weighs less than the digital universe on your laptop that’s all contingent on a $15 charger that abandons you when you need it most. 

In the end it isn’t the rage that gets to you. It’s the hilarity of it all, how silly it is that your life is dictated by something so stupid. 

The fifth floor decrees silence, so you make sure that your sobs don’t make a noise. You can’t control the tears but you can hold your breath. When your head starts to feel light and your lungs are desperate for air, you can breathe through your mouth and inhale as slow as you can to keep the shakiness to a minimum. You can do everything you can to hold it together, even when you’re falling apart. 

Someone taps you on the shoulder. You lift your head, ready to face a tired librarian kicking you out but instead you see bleach blonde hair and a forced smile over a furrowed brow. 

“What are you doing here?” You whisper, glad for the quiet because you don’t trust your voice to support you. 

He holds up a thick, leatherbound book. LSAT for Dummies. “Extra reading couldn’t hurt, right?” 

You blink at him. The only times you’ve seen Soonyoung in the library on his own has been with a thick blanket and closed eyes (it’s how you know he sleeps with his mouth open, just a little). You can’t quite believe he’s in front of you and yet he takes a step closer and doesn’t vanish. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

“Shhh,” you say, holding your finger to your lips to get him to quiet down, even though there’s no one in sight. “Quiet floor.” 

He nods, looking around as if he’s waiting for someone to kick him out. He turns to look at your desk, the contents of your backpack still strewn about. He tilts his head but doesn’t dare raise his voice to ask. You know he hasn’t missed the tears, still wet on your cheeks. 

You done? He mouths. 

Not even close, you think, but you nod anyways because it’s the easier answer. Soonyoung doesn’t hesitate, gently closing your laptop and sweeping everything into your backpack. You watch as he dumps it all into the biggest pocket, zipping it up and slinging it onto his back. He tucks the law book under his arm and holds out his other hand for you to take. 

“Come on,” he whispers. And you take it, let him pull you out of your chair. The walk to the elevator; out of the library; toward the edge of campus; nothing feels far when Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your hand. You follow him in a daze, clinging to his hand in the off-chance that all your luck rides on him–like if you let go, you’ll lose your tether to this planet. 

Soonyoung rarely walks in silence and today is not an exception. He rambles about the only member of the frat capable of cooking that apparently can’t do anything without creating a giant mess. Even as he complains about the guy, Soonyoung can’t help defending him, explaining in mouth-watering detail how good his food is. 

“One time he crowd sourced some steaks and did a grill for the new pledges and they all thought it was a prank or something and nearly cried when he actually let them eat them. I think they burnt their mouths from eating it too fast, afraid someone was going to take it away from them.” Soonyoung stops at the edge of campus. He glances at you, a question in his eyes. Where are we going? 

“Soonyoung,” you say. Squeezing his hand feels natural. “I don’t really want to go back right now.” 

He nods, squeezing your hand back. “You want to go for a ride?” 

“You have a car?” 

“Nope.” Soonyoung fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. You can only hear Soonyoung, who says, “I need a ride,” and “Pick me up by the duck statue,” and then he hangs up. 

The edge of campus that Soonyoung drags you to is right next to the athletic fields, which explains why there is a giant statue of the mascot that towers over you. It has three of its own personal spotlights and shiny claws from fans rubbing them for good luck, despite there being no official tradition. You only went to one game, mostly to confirm you would rather be anywhere else (except maybe the bathroom of the stadium). Either way, the only thing you do know about the statue and mascot for your school is that it is not a duck. 

“That’s a raven.” You point at the statue. 

Soonyoung frowns between you and the hunk of metal. “Oh, Larry?” 

“It has a name?” 

“Well, there’s the official name, which is like, Midnight Rain or something, and the frat name.” 

“And the frat name is Larry?” 

Soonyoung shrugs. “I didn’t choose it.” 

“And you call it a duck, too?” 

“It looks like a duck.” 

You study the statue. You aren’t an ornithologist, but you’re pretty sure ducks have webbed feet instead of talons, and different beaks. Plus you’ve never seen a pure black duck. But you’ve spent enough time with Soonyoung to know it doesn’t have to make sense when the frat is involved (in fact, you’ve found sense is rarely involved in their decisions). 

“We just call it the duck. Or Larry, when we want to be formal.” Soonyoung jumps at the honk of a horn. You turn around with him to find an obnoxiously red convertible parked against the curb. The driver’s smooth black hair is styled to look effortless, hair falling just above his eyes, and he wears sunglasses despite the fact that the sun went down three hours ago. He might be attractive, if he wasn’t trying so hard. You never thought you had a type, but someone like Soonyoung, who wears clothes that he likes and sticks his hair straight up because he thinks it looks funny–that’s more your style. 

“Here’s our ride,” Soonyoung says. He starts walking, pulling you with him, still holding your hand. You aren’t sure if he even realizes, but you’re in no hurry to remind him. 

“Hey Josh,” he says. 

Driver (Josh, apparently), finally pulls off his sunglasses. “Soonyoung, you have a friend.” 

“I’m YN,” you say, wishing your voice didn’t sound so scratchy from crying. 

 “Oh, I know,” he says, a twinkle in his eye that flirts between danger and fun. “I’m Joshua.” You try not to feel unsettled by it. He raises an eyebrow as Soonyoung slides into the backseat and you sit beside him. “Am I just an Uber to you?” 

“Seungcheol is out and I knew there was no way you would let me drive your car,” Soonyoung says. 

“So, yes?” 

Soonyoung shrugs and laughs at Joshua’s expression. 

“Where are we headed?” He asks with a resigned sigh as if he’s used to Soonyoung’s antics. Has he done this before? You frown. Why does it matter to you if he’s done this with someone else? You’re so busy with the internal war, you miss Soonyoung’s answer. 

“Seriously?” Joshua asks. “It’s a weeknight.” 

“Like that’s ever been a problem for you.” 

Joshua glances at you. “You’re okay with this?” 

You pause. You don’t actually know where Soonyoung said to go. But it’s Soonyoung, your heart says. You're inclined to agree with it tonight. “Yeah.” 

He shakes his head and mutters something you don’t catch and kicks the car into gear. Before long, you are flying down a two lane road you didn’t even know existed. The wind starts to pick up with the top of the car down, blasting your face. Though your nose is still stuffed from crying, the air fills your lungs, tasting like dead leaves and unnatural warmth courtesy of climate change. For the first time tonight, you can breathe. 

.

.

The clock reads just shy of 1 am by the time the car stops. As soon as the rumbling engine cuts out, another noise takes over, drowning everything else out. Crashes too rhythmic to be thunder, the blows softened by tall dunes illuminated by the car’s headlights that Joshua didn’t turn off. 

Soonyoung turns to you with a grin. “Ready to have some fun?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping out of the car instead of opening the door, ignoring Joshua’s shout. He sprints toward the crashing waves. 

Joshua shakes his head, opening his door and ushering you out from the back. He even closes the door behind you, folding his arms over his chest and walking slowly to the beach with you. The headlights cut out but the moon and stars shine enough to see where the boardwalk ends and the sand begins. Soonyoung’s movement gives him away more than any light, running alongside the water and dancing with the tide. 

You clear your throat. The ride cleared your head enough for you to feel properly embarrassed about meeting someone right after sobbing. You shudder to imagine how terrible you looked when he first picked you up, clinging to Soonyoung like he was the only thing keeping you alive. A blush forms just at the thought of it. 

“So, you do this often?” You ask. 

“Do something truly insane because of Soonyoung? All the time.” Joshua laughs. “We don’t usually end up this far away though, and usually someone’s life is in imminent danger.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” you say, watching Soonyoung strip his socks and shoes off and toss them behind him. One sock gets caught in the wind and blows back toward you and Joshua. 

Joshua stops before the two of you can catch up to him. You turn to look at him. It’s difficult to read his expression in the moonlight but he frowns like he’s not sure he should say something. Eventually he says, “I’m going for a walk down the boardwalk.” He glances at Soonyoung, then back at you and smiles. “Have fun with him.” 

You watch him turn around and trudge back up the sand, wondering if all of Soonyoung’s friends are this strange. Maybe it’s just being in a frat. You grab Soonyoung’s sock and set it with his shoes, smiling when he turns around and waves like a maniac. 

“It’s the ocean!” He shouts over the crashes. 

“You’re soaked!” You shout back. He glances down and apparently finally realizes his shirt is wet, clinging to his shoulders already. He strides back toward you, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. 

“My shoes are not coming off!” You warn him. 

“Just come closer!” He says. “It’s amazing!” You stand with him at the edge of the water, watching it rise in the darkness and draw closer and closer. It crashes on the sand first, a violent move, kicking up wet sand and mixing it with white water. The frothy white water creeps forward, until you have to dance backward. Soonyoung stays in the water, letting it wash around his feet. 

“It feels better like this,” he says. 

“My feet are covered in enough sand,” you say, though he does look like he’s having fun. The water must be freezing this time of the year–it would feel so nice running over your skin. But you’d end up with wet socks and even more sand in your shoes to clean out. 

Soonyoung holds out his hand. “You’d like this.” 

You chew on your lip. Normally you’d laugh in his face and say ‘not a chance.’ But normalcy has never been running three hours away to the beach in the middle of the night when you have class at 9 in the morning. You pull off the sneakers without untying them and pull your socks off, setting them next to Soonyoung’s and joining him at the edge of the water. His hand isn’t out by the time you return but he slips it into yours when you join his side. 

Another wave crashes and you watch the water creep forward, faster than you expect it to be–and you’re right, it’s freezing, but Soonyoung’s right too, it sends an icy shock throughout your body that sends a tingly rush up from your toes to every nerve in your body, setting them on fire. You squeeze his hand and laugh. 

“Good?” He asks.

“I love it.” 

You don’t know how long you stand there, holding onto Soonyoung’s hand and letting the water wash over you. After a few waves, it doesn’t feel cold anymore. You stand until your feet are buried in wet sand, each wave sending you lower and lower. 

“My feet are freezing,” Soonyoung eventually says. 

“Mine, too.” You lift your feet reluctantly, already missing the coarse sand and cold water. You have to let go of Soonyoung’s hand to put on your socks and shoes, shuddering at all the sand in your socks. The cotton became damp from sitting too close to the water, your shoes faring the same. Yet you don’t regret a second of it. 

You stand up and stretch, feeling your spine pop. When you turn back around, you almost scream. You manage to contain it to a gasp, a wheezing Soonyoung’s name. He blinks at you innocently, like he isn’t standing in front of you with his shirt in his hand. 

“What are you doing?” You choke out. 

“We’re at the beach,” he says. “I have to take pictures.” 

“And you need to take off your shirt for that?” 

“Why? Does it bother you?” He smirks. 

Muscles have never been a selling point for you. The “people” you’ve crushed on have all been smart or kind, crushes of intellect rather than bodies. His toned abs, sculpted shoulders, the way his body curves gently as he allows you to stare at him–normally it wouldn’t get to you at all (other than the embarrassment of being this close to a shirtless man for the first time in a long time). But it’s not just the muscles. It’s Soonyoung, your Soonyoung who calls you at four in the morning to tell you about the movie he just finished and is too endearing for you to truly be annoyed at. It’s the Soonyoung that gets lost in the Engineering building even as a senior. It’s the Soonyoung that drags you to the beach in the middle of the night just to make you smile. Yes, it bothers you. No one should be this incredible and hot. 

“No,” you mumble, failing to convince yourself of the lie. 

Soonyoung seems to be done teasing you, dropping his shirt into your hands. He walks a little closer to the waves, apparently not bothered by the chilly ocean breeze. He starts to pose, then raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to take pictures?” 

“Where’s your phone?”

“The camera’s broken,” he says. “Just use yours and you can send them to me.” He continues to pose, flexing his arms as subtly as he can which isn’t particularly subtle (though the muscles are even more impressive in person). You are tempted to reach out and feel the tension, before you realize you are staring again. 

You numb to Soonyoung in this half-dressed state as you take the pictures. The frat must have a professional photographer or something, because Soonyoung knows how to pose. Despite some of the angles and positions seeming awkward, each picture comes out as if from a photoshoot. He only gives you a few instructions on taking pictures, and compliments you way beyond your talents. 

“Just like that!” Soonyoung says, breaking his model face to grin at you. “You’re really good at this.” 

“You can’t even see the pictures,” you say. You bite your lips so you don’t smile. Apparently that doesn’t matter, because he keeps posing. It’s a good thing you just upgraded your phone storage because you estimate at least a thousand pictures are taken for each pose. 

“Are you guys done?” You jump at the voice next to you. Apparently Joshua returned from his walk, sneaking up using the crashing waves as cover. “We should head back soon if you want to make your morning classes.” 

“Definitely want to,” you say. You haven’t gotten any work done, but that’s no excuse to skip class. Soonyoung pouts but doesn’t argue. 

“Perfect!” Joshua claps his hands together. He shoves you toward Soonyoung and grabs your phone. “One more picture together and we’ll go.”

Being at a distance worked perfectly fine but those muscles have you frozen in place again. Soonyoung throws an arm over your shoulders and grins like you do this all the time. His biceps press through your jacket, the flex of the muscle exactly as you imagined it, not that it stops your heart from thundering. 

You can’t help but steal a glance at Soonyoung. Despite feeling like you’ll malfunction at any second, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. Soonyoung’s features look soft this close, even the sharp cut of his jawline. You want to study every line of his face, each curve, memorize it until the way his lips slowly curl into a smile is carved into your heart. Spending the rest of your life here doesn’t seem too bad. 

“Let’s go,” Joshua says, breaking whatever magic froze time for you. You are left with cold toes and sand in your sneakers as you march up the dune and back to Joshua’s car. 

“I just cleaned it,” he groans, looking at all the sand you and Soonyoung tracked in. 

You mumble an apology but when you try to offer to clean it for him, he shakes his head. “Nobody touches my baby.” 

You glance at Soonyoung, who followed you into the backseat again. He rolls his eyes at Joshua, smiling in a way that you know means he isn’t serious. You smile back at him and click your seatbelt into place. 

“Address?” Joshua asks, handing you his phone. You punch it in and hand the phone back. 3 hours and sixteen minutes. 

Joshua whistles, seeing the arrival time of 4:53. “Remind me never to do this again.” 

“The beach was your idea,” Soonyoung says. His words slur a little. 

“Just go to sleep already,” Joshua says. The engine rumbles on and he pulls away from the empty boardwalk. 

“‘m not even tired,” Soonyoung says, fighting a yawn. He slouches and leans against the headrest, rolling his head to look at you. “You have class in the morning?” 

“Not until nine.” 

“That’s good.” He doesn’t succeed in fighting the yawn this time. His blinks become longer and longer, eyes closing more than opening. It’s like watching the energizer bunny shut down. 

“Soonyoung?” 

He opens his eyes and you think maybe he’d wait for the rest of his life for you to say something. 

“Thank you.” 

“Always.” He smiles lazily. “I swore I’d do anything.” 

His sworn loyalty. It should be fun, having a boy like him dedicated to fulfilling your wishes. But what would it be like if he wasn’t sworn to you? If he did these kinds of things just because he wants to? 

You didn’t think you were tired but the next thing you know, Soonyoung gently shakes you awake. 

“We’re here,” he says in a quiet, very un-Soonyoung voice. 

You blink at him, trying to figure out why your neck hurts so much, frowning at the unfamiliar surroundings. From the rear view mirror, Joshua watches you. Right, instead of writing your essay, doing the problem sets, or any of the readings, you went to the beach. You wait for the guilt to set in but it doesn’t come. None of the anxieties from earlier in the evening (the technical part of your brain reminds you it was the night before) overwhelm you. 

“Right,” you say, clearing your throat. Your mouth tastes nasty but before you can say anything, Soonyoung hands you a water bottle. You take a sip before saying thank you. 

Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you up.” 

You nod, grateful you don’t have to ask him. The night has been a full adventure on its own yet you aren’t quite ready for it to be over. At least you aren’t ready to say goodbye to Soonyoung. 

There’s still something you want to tell him. You want to tell him that you like his blonde hair, even though everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. You want to tell him that you lied earlier, you nearly lost your mind seeing him shirtless. You want to tell him that you feel proud when he gets the right answer on the first try, that you think his concentration frown is cute, that you’ve never enjoyed studying like you do when he’s by your side. You want to tell him that on your worst days, days like today, just being Soonyoung makes it better. 

But you learned a long time ago tired ramblings and drunk confessions are siblings. They both end in heartbreak and twelve packs of ramen. 

So you ride the elevator with him and watch the lights flicker. You never cared when Jihoon brought his friends (well, Jun) over, but the carpets that look dirty no matter how many times they’re cleaned and beige walls are even worse tonight. You can stand to live in a boring apartment, but not a dirty one. 

“This is me,” you say, gesturing to 808. You turn your back on the door, facing Soonyoung instead. He looks radiant under the fluorescent hallway lights, which really isn’t fair. They make his bleach blonde hair look natural, highlight the blemishes on his skin, easy to see when he’s this close. 

You should go inside and he should go back down but neither of you move. For the second time tonight, you are frozen in time with Soonyoung. 

The floor creaks and you jump, turning around at the same time, accidentally knocking into Soonyoung’s chest as you turn to face the noise behind you. Jihoon, gym bag over his shoulder, frowns at you across the hallway. 

“Are you seriously just getting back now?” 

Shit. You never texted him. “Um, Jihoon, this is Soonyoung,” you say. He waves behind you. “Soonyoung, Jihoon.” 

Jihoon folds his arms. “I’ve heard about you.” You glare at him, which he ignores. “You’re taking the LSAT on a dare?” 

“You’re the one that wants to be a music producer?” 

Jihoon raises his eyebrows and looks at you. “You’ve mentioned me?” 

“Only the worst,” you say, smiling at him. 

“I thought you were at the library all night?” Jihoon says. 

“We went on an adventure,” you say. You show him your sandy shoes. He raises his eyebrows but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he knows he interrupted something, but the stubborn asshole doesn’t move. 

You turn back to Soonyoung. “Goodnight,” you say, resisting the urge to hug him. 

“It’s morning,” Jihoon says. 

“Goodnight,” Soonyoung says, glancing at Jihoon. He pauses and fidgets with the hem of his shirt but finally gives you a half hug that feels more like a bro hug than anything else. He disappears into the elevator then pops his head out a final time “Send me the photos!” 

You turn to Jihoon. “I forgot to text you.” 

“I figured I’d wait until the morning to call,” he said. “Even if you were kidnapped there’s still a 90% chance you’d figure out a way to show up for class on time.” He turns the key in the lock and strides into the apartment. You’re too tired to argue back, especially when he’s right, so you just follow him into the apartment. 

“I like him,” Jihoon says before you vanish into your room. 

“Should I find you a wedding dress?” You say. “Soonyoung is single.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes and grabs a protein shake from the fridge. “Why do I even bother?” 

You don’t wait for him to leave first, peeling your shoes off in the entryway where you can sweep up the sand and practically fall into your room. It’s race to change into an old t-shirt before you collapse onto your bed. 

You set an alarm for 8:30 and check fifty times to make sure it’s actually set. Then you open your camera roll, shaking your head at the countless pictures. You choose twenty non-blurry ones before your eyes start to droop. You scroll to the bottom and click on the pictures Joshua took. Soonyoung grins for the camera, his easy smile as captivating on your phone as it is in person. You are staring at him, a soft smile on your lips and hearts practically bugging out of your eyes. It’s so ridiculously obvious how you feel. You send him his thirst traps and keep that picture for yourself. 

It takes a week for you to realize Soonyoung never posted the pictures. 

.

.

The weight of the world has the decency to wait until you’re home to fall on your shoulders. You hold your keys up and can’t push it into the lock. If you didn’t do well today, it means the past two months have been a complete waste–all the studying, the assignments you got low grades on because you were studying, the nights you spent at your desk–wasted and doomed to repeat. 

All but the time you spent with Soonyoung. Even if you fail (again), he should at least score decently, and you can’t consider that a complete waste. 

You raise your key to insert it into the lock but the door flies open. Jihoon glares at you, arms folded over his chest. “What the hell is taking you so long, your boyfriend is here.”  

You peer past him and find Soonyoung lounging on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table. He sits up when he sees you, grinning and waving. You wonder if he’s been there since you told him you were finished. You make a mental note to get Jihoon his favorite protein shakes. 

“How did you know I was here?” 

“Me and your boyfriend heard you shaking your keys in front of the door for like twenty minutes,” Jihoon says.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mutter, praying Soonyoung didn’t hear either of you. You push past Jihoon, letting him lock the door behind you. Soonyoung jumps off the couch as soon as you drop your bag, almost tackling you in a hug. You pretend not to hear Jihoon’s scoff as he locks himself in his room again. 

“How’d it go?” He asks, squeezing you one more time before letting go. You try not to feel disappointed about it. “I mean, I know you did amazing, but how do you feel? Was the room super hot or super cold? Did the proctor give you the evil eye when you turned in your paper because they were secretly trying to sabotage you?” 

“No?” You frown. “And the room was fine, I felt pretty good about it, but I felt good last time, so I don’t really know, I just really don’t want to take it again.” You sigh. “I know you want to know as many details as possible for your test, but I really, really don’t want to think about it right now.” 

Soonyoung grins and pulls out a package of White Claws and a bottle of vodka from a plastic bag that you just noticed sitting on your coffee table. “That’s perfect because I brought a gift from the whole frat.” 

“That seems pretty on brand,” you say. 

“And a gift from me.” He digs again and pulls out a DVD. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. 

“You’re kidding.” You say. “I think I have to be drunk to watch that.” 

“You don’t have faith in my taste in movies?” Soonyoung asks but he pops open the first drink and slips something shaped concerningly like a knife out of his pocket and stabs the can, chugging it before it can really spill on your carpet. Before you can register what he did, he tosses the empty can on the coffee table, immediately scrambling to straighten it. “Sorry, force of habit.” 

“Soonyoung, I don’t think I can keep up with you,” you say, sitting slowly onto the couch. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m a lightweight,” he says. “I definitely should not have chugged that.” 

“I guess I better catch up,” you say, unscrewing the vodka and pouring a shot in the little paper cups that Soonyoung brought. The acrid scent curls your lip but you knock it back as fast as you can, forcing it down when you miss the back of your throat and it burns your tongue. Soonyoung hands you a can, the lime flavored seltzer pushing the nasty flavor out of your mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m terrible at that,” you say. 

Soonyoung shrugs. “I’m not one to judge. You should have seen me as a pledge.” 

You grin at the mental image of Soonyoung wearing a fake toga made of bedsheets. “I bet you were adorable.” You take another sip of the drink (which tastes significantly worse when you aren’t comparing it to straight vodka) and miss Soonyoung scrambling for words. 

“I can’t drink this,” you declare, setting the can down. You cross the room to the fridge, opening it and studying the contents. Soonyoung follows you, resting his chin on the door and glancing inside. 

“Jihoon does most of the cooking,” you say, feeling self-conscious. Not much populates your fridge, a package of chicken breast and a carton of eggs. A couple containers of take out that are either two days or two weeks old sit in front, and the drawer of fruit that is filled with apples from Jihoon’s mother definitely smells funny. 

“I live in a frat house, this is heaven.” 

You flash him a smile and grab the orange juice, shaking it as you grab a glass from the cabinet (thank god Jihoon did the dishes last night). Soonyoung follows you back to the couch and waits for you to pour a glass and add two shots of vodka. You raise the glass and he takes your rejected White Claw and clinks it. 

“Cheers,” he says, sipping this one instead of chugging it. He sets it down and leans against the armrest so that he can face you. “How did you meet Jihoon, by the way? He seems like a pretty reserved dude.”

“Yeah, sorry if he was short with you, he isn’t half as mean as he pretends to be,” you say. 

“We actually talked a lot.” He pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it. “Well, a lot about working out. I think I could turn him into my gym buddy with enough pressure.” 

“I would pay to see that,” you say. Jihoon tried to bring you to the gym exactly once, and you have regretted it ever since. The soreness haunts you, but you think Soonyoung might be one of the few people on the planet that could keep up with him with those arms. 

“I didn’t know you were into that,” Soonyoung says with a giggle. You roll your eyes. 

“You know for a fact that’s not what I meant,” you say, “and to answer your question, we lived in the same dorm freshman year. He was next door, and both our roommates were psychotic, so we ended up trading. We’ve been living together ever since because I’m the only one that can put up with his annoying ass. Also he cooks and keeps me alive during finals.” 

“I can’t believe I was a dorm assignment away from living with you.” Soonyoung shakes his head and pretends to sigh. “Fate isn’t on my side.” 

“Don’t you live in a frat house?” 

“Semantics,” Soonyoung says. He pauses. “Semen-tics.” He starts to laugh and though the joke is far from funny, you find yourself giggling too. 

“You’re drunk,” you say. 

Soonyoung points at you. “I’m pretty sure you’re drunk too.” 

You tilt your head from side to side, trying to think at first but the motion feels nice, toeing the line between dizzying and comfortable. Right, you were checking if you were drunk. You have your answer, but you don’t want to stop spinning just yet. 

“Do you really want to be a lawyer?” Soonyoung asks. You freeze with your head on your right shoulder, frowning at him. “I mean, like, how do you know?” 

“It makes good money,” you say. “Well, corporate law does. Everything going according to plan, I’ll be out of debt before I’m thirty, retiring at 65.” 

“But how do you know that’s what you want?” Soonyoung asks. You wonder if he’s asking you or himself. You think about the first day you met him. 

It was the first day of your sophomore year, 8 in the morning in the worst classroom in the Armhayer Building at the end of a dead end hallway with no windows. The business program had a required career building course and some cruel administrator decided to make the other available class clash with the other required business class for the year, so half the class was people you were stuck with for the full year. Despite its reputation, the business school at the university seemed to only accept idiots. 

You settled for a long semester of biting back your eye rolls and yawning through class, choosing a seat in the front so that at least you won’t have to look at anyone else. And for fifteen minutes, you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Then Soonyoung walked in. 

He was out of breath, telling the professor that he got lost several times and someone gave him the wrong directions. You didn’t really pay attention to him until he dropped into the seat next to you. Fully prepared to give him a side eye and judge him for the rest of the semester, Soonyoung flashed a smile at you and apologized for disrupting you. He was so obviously not your type, yet when his head dropped on your shoulder, you didn’t wake him up. Two classes later when the professor told the class that you would be in a semester-long partner project, you didn’t hesitate to say yes when Soonyoung asked you. 

Soonyoung hadn’t ever taken the class seriously, going through the motions and doing the bare minimum for most of the assignments. You never paid any attention to it, but you realize that he never actually told you what he planned to do with his life, always asking you what you planned to do with your copious amounts of money. Now you wonder if it was because he really doesn’t know. 

“I want stability,” you finally say. “This plan is stable. Safe, as long as everything goes according to plan. I guess it’s not as cool as dreaming about being an astronaut or whatever, but it’s what I want.” 

“I think it’s cool. Knowing what you want to do.” Soonyoung says with little enthusiasm. 

“You don’t have any idea?” 

He shrugs. “I have to be smart to do the things I want to do.” 

“You are smart.” 

“You don’t have to pander to me, I’m not looking for your pity.” 

“Soonyoung.” You wait for him to look you in the eyes. “You are smart. This isn’t pity. Sure it takes you a little longer to read things, and you have to work a little harder to answer some questions, but that doesn’t mean you’re not smart. You’re just as capable as me, more capable when it comes to emotional intelligence. Have you ever noticed that wherever you go, someone is always waving to you? I don’t think there’s a single person in this world that doesn’t like you. Don’t downplay how important that is.” 

He chews on his lip and you know he doesn’t believe you. How many people have told him he’s dumb? You want to drag every single one of them here and make them apologize, make them realize how special the boy in front of you is. Eventually he shrugs. “I’ll just end up being an intern, and then I’ll be so charming they’ll promote me without realizing I don’t know what I’m doing and I’ll become a CEO that pays people to do the job for me.” 

You smile and shake your head. “We can vacation together in the Bahamas.” 

“Please, that’s where the semi-rich people go,” Soonyoung says, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “We’ll have our own islands and sail past each other.” This time when he smiles, the sparkle glints, just a little. His bleach blonde hair sticks in strange angles from rubbing against the couch, looking a little like a fuzzball. You reach a hand out and pat it down, except the hair is fried from being bleached so many times and almost breaks under your hand. 

When you pull your hand down, Soonyoung is staring at you. Except staring isn’t the right word. He looks at you like no one else ever has, a thousand unsaid words behind his eyes, a language like no other that maybe only you can understand. Those dark eyes, so soft and warm, begging you to drown in them. He’s a siren, luring you in with a song of desire that only you can hear. 

You don’t realize you’ve leaning closer until you fall forward, catching yourself on his chest. Soonyoung’s hand flies to your waist, moving so fast it must have been reflex. 

“Sorry,” you mutter but you don’t get off him. Resisting his eyes from this close is impossible. Soonyoung blinks at you, frozen. It occurs to you that you’re almost kissing him. All you have to do is lean forward, press your lips against his. Would his lips be chapped? Would he kiss you back? Would he make fun of you for being a terrible kisser? You hold your breath, wondering if you are about to find out. 

You jump at the bang of a door slamming shut. You push off Soonyoung’s chest, back to your side of the couch until your back slams against the armrest. The pain is almost enough to sober you up and you realize exactly what you were about to do. You can’t bear to look at Soonyoung staring at you so you look at Jihoon instead, who doesn’t seem to realize that he interrupted anything by walking into the kitchen, headphones blasting music so loud that you can hear it. He grabs one of the takeout containers from the fridge and finally notices you and Soonyoung staring at him. 

“What?” He shouts over his headphones. You shake your head and he stares at you all the way back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him with enough force to make you jump again. 

“We should probably start the movie,” you say, turning to face forward, anywhere but Soonyoung. “I’ll get my laptop.” He doesn’t say anything but you can feel Soonyoung’s eyes on you as you jump up. Ignoring the spinning in your head, you walk to your room. You lean against the door as soon as it shuts behind you, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

You wish you could blame the idiocy on the alcohol, but you aren’t drunk enough for that. Besides, regardless of the reason, it was a mistake, it would be a mistake, to kiss Soonyoung. No matter how badly you want to do it. 

Your computer sits on your desk. The longer it takes for you to get back, the stranger it will be, so you grab it and return to the couch. Dizziness gives you an excuse to peer at the floor, perfectly valid reason to avoid Soonyoung’s eyes. 

“Are you ready to have your mind blown?” He asks when you insert the DVD into your laptop. 

You raise your eyebrows but still don’t have the courage to face him. “It’s that good?” 

Soonyoung laughs easily, as if nothing happened. “You have no idea what you’re in for.” 

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. He faces the computer, sitting back against the couch. Other than his red tinted cheeks, you can’t tell he’s drunk at all. You have no idea what you’re in for, he said. He has no idea how right he is. 

.

.

You hold Soonyoung by the shoulders, staring him down. Your eyes begin to water but you hold them open, determined not to lose. Soonyoung squints, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You just have to hold out a little longer, but your eyes begin to ache and the air pierces into them. 

“Damn!” Soonyoung cries, throwing himself back onto the couch and squeezing his eyes shut. You let go of his shoulders and resist the urge to rub your eyes, settling for blinking as fast as humanly possible. Your eyes burn but you smile anyways, wiping tears away with the back of your hand. 

“How are you so good at that?” Soonyoung asks. He gives into the impulse, hands pressed against his eyes. 

“I’m really not, I think you’re just bad at staring contests,” you say. “Now hurry up, you lost so you have to answer.” 

He sighs as if he didn’t beg you to help him study. With only a day before his test, you’re not sure how much this is really helping, but at least he isn’t partying with the rest of his frat (who do a pre-finals bar crawl, apparently). Instead, Soonyoung is on your couch, again. You try not to think about the last time he was here. Not productive thoughts, especially not when Soonyoung is one day away from taking the most important test of his life. 

“Is it B?” 

“Are you asking or telling?” 

“I hate when you say that.” He peers at the paper, eyes moving slowly as he rereads the line. “No, it’s C! Wait, no, B. No, A!” 

“Pick an answer.” 

He chews on his lip. You have to force yourself to keep your focus on his eyes. “B,” he finally says. 

You’re tempted to drag it out and make him wait but he puts on the Soonyoung Sparkle so you go ahead and nod. 

“I knew it! Trust your gut!” 

“You’re quoting me now.” You pretend to wipe tears from the corner of your eyes. “You’ve grown up so quickly.”  

If it were Jihoon, he’d roll his eyes but Soonyoung perks up, as if you’ve given him a real compliment. He pauses before asking his next question, eyes flickering to the papers separating you from him. 

“You really think I’ll do well?” He asks softly. 

You study him, the way his unnaturally blonde hair has been strategically gelled to stick up in all the right places, the way his plain white t-shirt hangs loose on his shoulders. You wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror because the way he sits now, waiting for an answer as if you’d actually say no, breaks your heart a little. He really has no idea how brilliant he is, in every sense of the word. You don’t know how to make him see it so you just take his hand and wait for him to look you in the eyes. 

The second the glittering dark irises meet yours, you see the desperation. He tries to smile, to hide the fear but Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You fight the urge to brush your fingers against his cheek. 

“Soonyoung.” You squeeze his hand. What you feel isn’t a passing crush, you’ve known that for a while now. Admitting it doesn’t give you the bravery to do anything except pull the shield of cowardice around your heart a little tighter. “I’d be an idiot if I said I didn’t.” 

He holds your gaze a little longer, until it almost looks like he believes you. Then his eyes light up. “I have a surprise for you!” 

He digs into his backpack, pulling out a blanket (not the one he used when it was still warm enough to sit outside in the grass), a plastic water bottle half-full of bright green liquid, three crumpled flyers for events on campus, and finally, a small rectangular item, carefully wrapped in paper towels. 

“I was a little worried it would get damaged in my backpack,” he says. “I really, really tried to walk gently and didn’t bring it near any coffee.” 

You choose not to point out the unnatural liquid in the plastic water bottle, instead appreciating his efforts to protect whatever your surprise is. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try. He carefully pulls the paper towels off, revealing a navy blue leather bound book with gilded lettering. Not just any book. 

“You got it back?” You cry. Soonyoung pulls the rest of the paper towels off to reveal the intricate design on the cover, the golden pages, with Pride and Prejudice inscribed on the spine. “My baby!” 

You hover over the book, not wanting to ruin it with the dirt and oils from your hands but so desperately wanting to caress the beautiful book. It’s just as you remember it, down to the tiny dent on the front cover where you accidentally knocked it against a railing. You can’t wait to put it back on your bookshelf where there has been an empty space ever since Jun managed to snag it. You remember Soonyoung is there when you hear his laughter. 

“You like it that much?” 

“Of course,” you say. “It’s my baby.” 

“It’s a book.” But he smiles and you know he’s just teasing. So you figure, why not? 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His frat-bro instincts must take charge because he doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, pulling you against his chest and squeezing you like he’s the one getting a gift. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“This is my thank you,” he says. You can feel his voice rumbling in his chest, a strange sensation that sends butterflies tumbling around between your stomach and your heart. “It’s the least I could do for you. 

The awkward position isn’t exactly comfortable, twisting your body to face him with your shoulder overtop of his forcing your face into his neck but you don’t want to let go. You give yourself five more thundering heartbeats before you let go, turning to study your book again so you have an excuse to avoid his eyes. 

“How did you get it back?” 

“Same way you lost it,” Soonyoung says. “I made a bet.” 

“On what?” 

Soonyoung shrugs, turning to look at the book that still sits in his lip. He gently places it into yours, using the paper towels to prevent smudging with his fingers. 

You frown. “How? Jun is in another hemisphere.” 

“Don’t underestimate the power of video calls and express shipping,” Soonyoung says. “By the way, I’m wearing your friends down. Pretty soon they’ll like me more than they like you. 

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow. You ignore the vole gnawing at your gut whispering that he might just be right. 

“I got Jihoon to go to the gym with me and I got him to admit I was friends with you before he was,” he says, holding a finger out. “Jun says that he wants to meet me the second he returns to the country.” A second finger goes up. “Who else can I add to the list?” 

He’s only joking. He doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but your skin wants to crawl inside out. The truth is, they are pretty much your only friends. Jihoon, Jun, and Soonyoung, the latter two having wormed their way into your life. My only friends. 

“You’ve got to start going on the offensive,” Soonyoung says. He avoids your eyes and you know he didn’t miss your discomfort. Great, now he pities you. “I’m serious, Seokmin and Joshua have been asking about you, and Seungcheol keeps complaining that he hasn’t met you yet.” 

You snort. “They’re frat bros, they just want more people to party with.” 

“I’m a frat bro,” he says. 

“Yeah, but…” But what? He’s Soonyoung? Once again, you wonder why he is so different to you–why the epitome of frat boy chaos doesn’t repulse you like he should. But he isn’t some one-dimensional steroid-infused party boy, not the type to bully the freshman trying to join just because he can. He gets drunk after two shots and makes his pledges follow him for 24 hours a day as “hazing,” only to take them for a dinner he can’t afford and skips his own classes so they don’t miss theirs. 

He’s not a typical frat boy. But Soonyoung loves his frat, and you can’t find a way to tell him this without making it sound like you are looking down on the rest of the members. 

So you just say, “Isn’t this supposed to be a study session?” 

Soonyoung sighs, pulling the book in front of him and staring at the words. Even though you can see that he isn’t reading, he doesn’t say anything else. 

“Your test is tomorrow,” you say. 

“Yeah, I know.” He doesn’t pick up the pencil. 

You’ve never struggled to read Soonyoung. He can’t hide when he’s upset, shoulders slumping, a little pout forming over his lips. He doesn’t fully frown but his eyebrows comes together, just a bit. And it’s usually easy to figure out what’s wrong–he’s tired, or wants to be at a party instead of studying. But now? He was fine just a moment ago, even while he was cramming earlier. 

“Is something wrong?” You don’t know why you’re so scared of the answer. 

“I just thought that… nNever mind.” He sighs again. “You’re right, this is a study session. I should be studying.” He doesn’t look at you and you can’t help but feel like you messed up. But Soonyoung eventually picks up his pencil and asks you to check his answers and the feeling slowly fades. 

Will the rest of your feelings fade when you aren’t with him like this anymore? When he takes his test and has no reason to see you every day? Will your heart still beat at the mention of his name? Will you spend the rest of your life thinking about all the almosts with him? Or will it fade until Soonyoung is just a boy that you helped because of a silly bet?

Even as you consider it, you know the answer. He isn’t just a boy, and he never will be. Maybe that’s what really scares you. 

.

.

You glare at Soonyoung. “Do you know what time it is?” 

Jihoon glances at his watch. “7:43.” 

Soonyoung grins beside him, arm over his shoulder. Both boys stand in your bedroom doorway looking far too composed for this ungodly hour. 

“It’s a Saturday.” Just two minutes ago you were in blissful sleep. Okay, maybe not blissful, since you stayed up until three in the morning because you couldn’t fall asleep, and you were having a weird dream where you were looking for something and ended up by the stadium staring at a giant duck statue instead of the raven. But the point is you were asleep until two fists banged on your door so loud you thought it was going to fall apart. 

You can’t even be that mad at Soonyoung, not when he smiles like that. So you glare at Jihoon.

“Honestly, I figured you would be up,” he says. “You were the one that said you didn’t think you were going to get any sleep.” 

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says. “I really just wanted to help distract you for the last hour.” Right. The last hour until your entire future would be determined by a triple digit number. No biggie. 

“Let me get dressed,” you say. They step back before you have the chance to slam the door in their face. You’d like to be able to dress up nicely, but you’re already shivering, so you grab your comfiest sweatpants and the sweatshirt Soonyoung lent you (that still smells like his cologne). You dart into the bathroom and meet the two boys in the doorway of the apartment, pulling on your sneakers. 

You pull the hood over your messy hair and tighten the strings. Soonyoung grins at you and taps your nose. 

“Ready to go?” 

“How did you get out of bed this early?” 

“Oh, I never got in,” he says. “Long story, but we gotta go, they won’t wait much longer.” 

“They?” You ask but Soonyoung doesn’t hear you. He turns to Jihoon, waving. 

“See you tomorrow!” He says, throwing an arm over your shoulders to pull you out the door. “I’ll let you know how it goes!” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” But he looks at you and smiles. “It’ll be fine.” Before you can thank him, he shuts the door. 

Soonyoung doesn’t let go of your side, pulling you to the elevators and squeezing you against him. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I should be asleep.” 

Soonyoung smiles, as if your grumpiness is funny. You decide it’s moot since there’s no way you could fall asleep now that you are an hour and seven minutes away from finding out the results of your future. 

“I figured I’d save you from wallowing in worry,” Soonyoung says. “We can do fun things while we wait. I planned out the whole morning, we have options! There’s going to the gym, or for a job around campus, breaking into the science lab and petting the rabbits, going to Barb’s for breakfast–”

“Breakfast,” you say. You aren’t a huge fan of getting in trouble with the college when you have just over a semester before graduation and though you aren’t sure if your stomach will accept food, working out is a guarantee for throwing up. Besides, a hot cup of coffee could clear a little of the fog in your brain. 

“Barb’s it is,” Soonyoung says, practically bouncing on his toes. He really seems to only have two settings, and today he’s at 120%. 

He lets go of your side when the elevator opens and you step to the ground floor of your apartment. You rub your arms and pretend like the chill is from the weather even though the lobby is still warm. He holds the door for you pretending to be a doorman, bowing and gesturing with his arm for you to pass. You turn so that he doesn’t see that the silly gesture made you smile. 

Parked outside is a white jeep that looks larger than normal, and is apparently the asshole that’s been blasting their music for the past ten minutes. You aren’t surprised in the slightest when Soonyoung strides up to the car.  

“I don’t have a car,” he says, belatedly apologetic. The two men in the front seat don’t seem to mind, though you suspect they have been up all night along with Soonyoung as soon as the door opens and you hear their voices singing off-tune over the blasting music. 

“Boy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away,” The driver cries, using a water bottle as a mic. You recognize Seungcheol from Soonyoung’s descriptions, half from his voice and half from the back of his head. The person riding shotgun is also familiar, a mess of dark hair that must be Joshua. He doesn’t look much different in daylight, sunglasses resting on his forehead. Thankfully they turn the music down a little and stop singing when you get it. 

Seungcheol grins at you through the mirror. “So I finally get to meet the infamous YN. You know, you still haven’t shown up to any parties.” 

“I’ve been busy,” you say, glancing at Soonyoung who focuses a little too much on his seatbelt. 

“Hi, YN,” the passenger up front says, waving at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Joshua,” you say. “Get into life and death scenarios with Soonyoung recently?” 

“Well, Soonyoung jumped out of a car window.” He pauses. “It wasn’t moving,” he adds when Seungcheol jerks his head towards him. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.” 

“I have done it before,” Soonyoung says solemnly. It takes him a moment to realize everyone is staring at him. “It was a dare.” 

“Why am I not surprised,” Seungcheol grumbles, turning back around and putting the car into drive. Though you were thinking something along the same lines, the way Soonyoung deflates a little makes you wish Seungcheol hadn’t said anything. 

The rest of the drive is quiet–at least in terms of conversation. Seungcheol cranks his stereo up to the loudest setting and blasts the Spice Girls until Joshua starts singing along. Apparently car karaoke for “Wannabe” is sacrilegious to the frat leader. 

You can hear yourself think again when the car pulls into the parking lot and he finally cuts the engine. A few cars line the parking lot of the 24 hour diner that sits on the outskirts of campus. The giant neon red Barb’s that hangs over the entrance flickers in the cloudy morning light teeters the line between quaint and electrical fire waiting to happen. 

The workers, a host and three waitresses, wave at the boys, and do a double take at you. You swear you hear the host whisper “Is that really them?” to Joshua as he leads the group to a table in the corner but Soonyoung distracts you with the menu. 

“I had this thing memorized since freshman year, I can’t believe you’ve never been here. The pancakes are my favorite for hangover cures, not that I’m hungover by the way, I’m actually running on my third energy drink.” He taps the picture, a golden stack of perfectly fluffy pancakes that can only be photoshop. 

“Aren’t energy drinks bad for your heart?” 

Soonyoung shrugs. “Joshua invented this to get through finals, you mix Red Bull, Bang, and Coke and it keeps you up for three days straight. Great for when you’re nervous because you physically have to do something about it.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say. “Wait, why are you nervous?” 

“Your test results come out today,” he says too quickly.  

You consider debating with him but a waitress approaches, wearing a fifties frock and a high ponytail with a ribbon that probably looked like a bow at the start of her shift but has drooped down and now just looks sad. Her face is a mask of emotions, not a smile, not a frown, just emptiness, a contrast to the button clipped to her collar making her “Happy.” 

“The usual?” She asks, pausing at you. She tilts her head and you can see the mask twisting at the edges, a frown almost forming on her brow. She glances at Soonyoung. “Is this who I think it is?” 

“Who do you think it is?” Soonyoung asks at the same time that Joshua and Seungcheol say, “Yes.” 

The corner of Happy’s lips turn into a tiny smile that seems to be her equivalent of a grin. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“Okay, haha, very funny,” Soonyoung says. “Stop harassing my friend. We’ll order when we have a chance to look at the menu.”  

Happy raises her eyebrow just slightly at the word “friend,” but closes her notepad. She returns to a pastel pink bar where you can clearly see her whispering and gesturing to you. 

“Why do so many people know me?” You mutter, shrinking into the corner of the booth. 

“The thing about Drunk Soonyoung is that he doesn’t really shut up,” Seungcheol says. 

“That’s being gentle,” Joshua says. “One time he spent four hours describing Finding Nemo. That’s longer than the actual movie.” 

“It’s a good movie,” Soonyoung says. 

“The point is,” Seungcheol says, glaring at Joshua, “he tends to talk when he’s drunk. Usually about good things, things that he… Well, things that he likes.” 

You turn your head to look at Soonyoung, who is once again pretending to study the menu. “You like studying for the LSAT that much?” 

Joshua unsuccessfully tries to hide his laugh with a snort while Seungcheol gains slightly more success with a fake cough. Soonyoung doesn’t react at all, staring at the painted flowers on the menu. Eventually, he shrugs. “I’m dedicated to the bet.” He points at a stack of pancakes covered in bananas and chocolate. “That’s what I usually get.” 

“Isn’t against all rules of gym core and muscle building to eat decadent things?” 

“Did you just call working out ‘gym core?’” Seungcheol asks. 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Nope!” Soonyoung says brightly. “And cheat days are a thing, so do you want to split it or not?” 

“You know I can’t say no to bananas and chocolate.” 

“And pancakes!” He waves down the waitress and points to the stack. 

“Ah, the new Soonyoung,” she says. “You guys getting your actual usual?” 

Joshua and Seungcheol nod and she doesn’t bother to write any of it down. Then again she already knows their orders. Except she called Soonyoung’s “new.” Before you can ask what she meant, a shout makes you jump. You turn around to see a stream of boys entering, enough of whom you recognize that you realize at least half the frat has rolled into the diner. The waitresses roll their eyes and groan but somehow they don’t look all that upset. 

“Mr. President!” The tallest boy, Johnny according to Soonyoung’s Instagram tags, holds a fist over his heart and pounds it a couple times. Seungcheol nods and greets each of the boys, most of whom seem to still be in various stages of inebriation. Almost all of them glance at you and whisper to each other, and you get the feeling they know exactly who you are. 

Just what has Soonyoung said about you? 

“How are we doing on time?” One of them calls out. 

“46 minutes,” Joshua says. You frown. 46 minutes… until 9? Do they all know about today? 

You tap Soonyoung on the arm. “What’s going on?” 

“You see, the thing is,” he says, “apparently I was nervous?” He tries to fake a laugh but it sounds strained. “I don’t really know but the guys made me tell them about today and then I didn’t really know what was happening but I guess they followed us here? Thought you might like moral support, or something.” 

You peek out at the booths crowded with frat bros and cringe back into your seat when they grin at you. “They’re all looking at me.” 

“Well, I guess I do talk about you a lot,” he says, only loud enough for you to hear. He won’t meet your eyes. 

Ask him why. You want to be brave. You want to be right about the answer you think he’ll give you. You chew the inside of your cheek. 

“Because of the bet?” 

Soonyoung doesn’t answer for a moment. “I guess.” 

Coward. 

“Why are we whispering?” Joshua asks, leaning across Soonyoung towards you. “Are we gossiping?” 

Soonyoung pushes him off. “Butt out.” 

“Just telling Soonyoung that I’ve never had an army of drunk guys rooting for me before,” you say. 

“Could have had it sooner if you came to a party,” Seungcheol says. 

“You really want me at a party that bad? We just met.” 

Seungcheol glances at Soonyoung, who shakes his head. He sighs. “If only I could tell you why you need to come.” 

You frown between the three men. “I don’t like when people talk in circles over me.” 

“Just promise you’ll come to the Christmas party. It’ll all make sense then,” Seungcheol says. You’ve heard a lot about Seungcheol from Soonyoung, and the more you listen to him, the more you believe it. He’s a strange man. 

“I’ll think about making an appearance.” 

“Really?” Soonyoung whips around to face you and you know that you have to come now. You haven’t seen him this excited since you let him skip studying to party. No, he’s even more excited now. “You’ll come?” 

You can’t stand his gaze so you study the placemats. “Maybe.” 

He grabs your hand until you meet his eyes. “Please?” 

The Soonyoung Sparkle. You never win against it. “Fine.” 

“Get a room,” Joshua says behind a very fake cough. You pull your hand back into your lap and pretend like you aren’t embarrassed. 

“How long now?” You shout out.

“40 minutes,” someone answers. You groan and lean back into the sofa. Studying was hard enough but waiting makes you want to pull out each individual hair on your head. You stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if the stain looks more like a horse or a flower. 

“Look at this.” Soonyoung passes his phone in front of you, forcing you to look down. His Instagram is open to a picture of a kitten looking drunk, face covered in milk. Such and obvious attempt to distract you but you smile anyway. 

“Sweet,” you say and even you aren’t sure if you mean the cat or Soonyoung. He shows you cat pictures until the food finally arrives (33 minutes to go). You have to wait another five minutes because Soonyoung insists on having a photoshoot, despite your protests that you look like you just woke up (he raises his eyebrows at that). You stop fighting when Joshua makes him cut a piece of the pancake and feed it to you. Chocolate nearly drops in your lap but Soonyoung shoots his hand out at the last second and catches it. 

“Okay, can we please just eat,” you say. Joshua and Seungcheol shrug and pretend like they weren’t instigating the pictures and telling you and Soonyoung how to pose. 

Soonyoung was right about the bananas and chocolate. Rich and decadent, they’re delicious. When he cuts you a slice and pushes it toward you, you can even forget the countdown to the end of the world. Or, more accurately, the end of the world doesn’t mean anything to you when Soonyoung smiles at you like that. 

You eat slowly enough to bring you to the ten minute mark. Fear mixes with the dessert for breakfast in your stomach, twisting it until it threatens to jump out of your throat. Soonyoung takes your hand under the table and holds it. You don’t run away this time. 

He holds you to the planet again, keeps you from floating away and disappearing before you can reach the stars. It’s Soonyoung that keeps your heart beating. Always Soonyoung. 

Seungcheol and Joshua chat, Soonyoung piping in a few times, but their words don’t reach you. Stuck somewhere between crushed beneath the weight of the world and floating away, you focus on the clock, watching the seconds tick closer and closer. 

“Last minute!” Someone behind you finally shouts. Soonyoung squeezes your hand. You pull up the website on your phone and put in your login information and hover over the SUBMIT. At thirty seconds, they start shouting it out. 

“Ten!” 

“Nine!” 

“Eight!” 

“Seven!” 

“Six!” 

“Five!” 

“Four!” 

“Three!” 

“Two!” 

“One!” 

Half the guys start cheering already, probably forgetting the count down doesn’t mean as much as the results themselves. You hit SUBMIT and watch the little wheel spin around and around and around until it finally refreshes. The number stares back at you, impossible to read right in front of you. 

169. 

“Congratulations!” Soonyoung shouts, throwing his arms around you and squeezing while you try to comprehend what that means. 169. The number should be all you can think about but Soonyoung holds you, shouting how proud he is, how he always believed in you. 

“169!” Seungcheol shouts, miles away from your bubble. You can hear the guys break out into cheers, hear them chanting the number (which turns into 69) but it’s just you and Soonyoung. The world didn’t end and Soonyoung is still by your side. 

The rest of the morning is a blur. Every member of the frat insists on congratulating you, which mostly means a lot of hugs, though one of the more drunk guys tried to spin you around on his shoulder. You laugh when you’d usually frown and find your way back to Soonyoung’s side like a magnet. 

Maybe it’s the euphoria that gives you courage. 

“Hey Soonyoung?” 

“Hm?” 

You say it before you can think too much. “Maybe just the two of us next time?” 

He grins before you can finish speaking. “I’d love that.” 

.

.

You have the courtesy to let Soonyoung sleep in as much as he wants. You wait for him at Barb’s, trying to figure out how to call this a date. 

You’ve seen him a couple times since you got your score back, but you needed to study for finals and he had to make up for missing a lot of frat activities. You’ve only seen him in passing, nothing to fill the Soonyoung shaped hole in your heart. But today that will change. You will celebrate together and you will tell him how you feel. And then… you have no idea. 

It’s just Soonyoung there’s nothing to be nervous about. Too bad your body doesn’t agree with you. Every nerve stands at attention, jumping at the bell that rings when the door opens. You don’t worry when Soonyoung doesn’t get to Barb’s by 8:30 like he said he would. Even at 8:45, you aren’t worried. 

It’s only at 8:55 that you really start to wonder where he is. Maybe you should have picked him up. Knowing him, there’s a 50% chance he’s lying in a ditch after a failed attempt to recreate an impossible stunt from Fast and Furious. At 9, you call him. Between each silence in the ring, you wait for his voice but it never comes. He uses the automated voicemail, so you don’t even get his voice telling you to leave a message. 

The anxiety turns to fear while you wait. The door rings and you see a fluff of bleach blonde hair and jump up. But though you recognize the face, it isn’t Soonyoung. 

Chan, one of the younger members of the frat, with Mingyu and a guy whose name you forgot. They all have the same look in their eyes when they see you, far too much like pity. 

“You’re YN, right?” Mingyu asks. “You’re supposed to meet Soonyoung?” The two guys with him, easily identifiable as frat members between their unkempt hair and sweatshirts plastered with Greek letters, stop mid conversation and glance at each other. 

“Is he okay?” You ask, still standing in the awkward position in the booth. 

“He’s got his score back,” Mingyu says. 

“We were supposed to–” 

“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says. “It was a 167. You should really talk to him yourself.” He pauses, glancing at his frat brothers but they shrug. “He’s at the house. See if you can talk some sense into him.” 

You’re too afraid to ask any other questions so you just watch Mingyu and the other two walk past, and pretend that they aren’t whispering and stealing glances at you. 

Going to a frat house was never on your bucket list but your feet travel without guidance. You find yourself in front of a rather nondescript house. No bodies hang out from windows, no one is passed out in the yard. Then again it’s a weekday. 

You pause at the door, wondering if you should knock. You tap your hand on the door and it slides open, the latch bolt pushed completely in. You step inside tentatively, peeking around but it’s quiet. You turn the corner to find an open room and Soonyoung sitting on a couch, glass with a bright liquid in his hand. He doesn’t even look at you. 

“Are you seriously drunk right now?” 

Soonyoung just shrugs, taking another sip from the glass. Even from here you can smell that it’s more tequila than fruit punch. 

You shake your head, crossing the room sitting beside him even though he didn’t invite you to sit down. He was considerably cuter the last time you saw him drunk. You’ve gotten used to the power of Soonyoung’s facial expressions, his smiles, his frowns, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s bored, the way they gleam when he daydreams; they’re as precious to you as Soonyoung himself. But his face is a clean slate now, not a smile, not a frown, just a blank stare. 

“You know a 167 is still insanely good, right?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Soonyoung.” He doesn’t look at you, so you grab his drink. Any other day and you would have failed miserably but his alcohol-impaired senses make him slow enough for you to get a hand on the half-empty glass. He glares at you but you don’t yield, tightening your grip and pulling the bottle even harder. 

“Let go,” you growl. “Talk to me like a normal human.” 

He shakes his head, pulling on the glass so you yank back, except you overestimate how weak he is like this, and the glass flies out of his hand, the contents spilling all over you. The red liquid sinks into your blue sweater, soaking you through all three layers. 

“What the hell?” Soonyoung says. 

“That gets your fucking attention? Spilling your drink?” You say. “You know, I really thought you were different.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re acting like a child. So you didn’t win the bet. Who fucking cares? Do you know how hard it is to get higher than a 160? Soonyoung, you are smart, and you worked so hard for this. You could go to law school with that score. You could graduate above a 2.3 if you stopped acting like a stereotypical fuck bro and actually studied. 

“You know, you could actually be something if you wanted. You don’t have to get a degree and work at a corporate job that sucks your soul away until the Soonyoung that actually matters is gone. I know it’s easier this way, but if you actually tried to dream, you could do something. I don’t get it, honestly. Because everyone thinks you’re an idiot you act like one? Is that what it is?” 

“You don’t have to pretend like you don’t think the same thing.” 

You snort. “I don’t, but clearly you won’t believe me. You think that if you have to work for something then it’s not worth it when you could be so much more.” 

“Why do you even care?” Soonyoung asks, looking you in the eyes for the first time. For a moment, you think you might actually be wrong, because all you see in his eyes is pain. A physical force that constricts your heart and makes you weak in the knees, Soonyoung looks at you like he’s been fighting a war you never knew about, like he’s been suffering in silence for a lifetime. He looks at you like you’ve broken his heart. 

Why do I care? You could scoff. Because I’ve been in love with you ever since you fell asleep on my shoulder. I’ve been fighting this stupid crush for so long that I don’t know who I am without it. I don’t know who I am without you. I care because every day the world proves that we aren’t worthy of this planet, that love can’t solve all problems yet you make me question it all. You don’t just bring light into my life, you make it glitter. And I can’t tell you any of this. 

“I don’t know.” The lie tastes bitter but it’s still sweeter than rejection.

“Then why are you here?” Soonyoung looks away. Without his eyes pinning you down, you can breathe again, but every inhale still drags against your heart. You stand up. Afterall, you don’t have an answer for him. 

“I take it back. You are an idiot,” you mutter over his head as you walk past him. You make it to the corner of the street before the tears finally spill over your cheeks, and all the way back to your room before you can’t breathe. 

.

.

Without the distraction of finals, you are left with your own thoughts, your words and Soonyoung’s floating around your head. You have always been something of a hermit but you’ve become J.D. Salinger himself, only leaving your room to sneak into the kitchen and scrounge for scraps of junk food that Jihoon hasn’t thrown away yet. You watch so much reality TV that you start to dream about it. 

Every episode the people, a family living on a homestead that just happens to dress in brand name clothes and drive a Benz, fight and cry and make up. You yell at the mother when she forces her daughter to change because she didn’t think polka dots are appropriate and cry along with the daughter when she starts to sniffle in her confessional, wondering if her mother would ever approve of her choices, whether it was clothes or the people she wants to date. 

You bet your confessional would be a hit if it was ever filmed. Tears run down your cheeks as you practice it in the mirror, choking out an apology for calling him an idiot and telling the whole world what you aren’t brave enough to tell him. 

Jun calls but you can’t answer. He leaves three voicemails: an apology, a goofy one telling you he’ll be back soon, and a final one, yelling at you to pick up or at least let him know you’re alive. You text him an apology you don’t know if you mean. He says thank you anyway and doesn’t call again. 

You have no plans to change your schedule (wake up, steal food, cry, sleep) but on the third day you run out of goldfish and can’t find anything in the kitchen that doesn’t make you nauseous. To make matters worse, despite the fact that it’s seven in the morning (the earliest you’ve woken up since the Fight), Jihoon catches you. 

You’ve successfully avoided him and his inevitable lecture, slamming your door shut and ignoring his knocks but he catches you off guard today. He sneaks in from his morning workout wearing a black t-shirt and slides that he somehow manages to walk stealthily in, scaring you when you close the fridge and find him standing where the door was. 

“Are you done hiding?” 

“I’m not hiding,” you mutter. 

He folds his arms. 

“Fine,” you say. “I’m not done hiding.” 

“Well too fucking bad,” Jihoon says. You try to step past him but he holds his arm out. You’ll never beat him in a physical fight so you step back, shaking your head. 

“Have it your way. Go ahead.” You wave your hand. “Get it all out. Yell at me or lecture me or whatever, I don’t care. You’re going to tell me that I’m an idiot? That I shouldn’t be so afraid of rejection, that I’m blind to how he feels? 

“Or are you going to tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone like him? That I shouldn’t be crying over a goddamn frat boy, I’m better than this, I’m better than him.” You choke back a sob, not sure what words are coming out anymore. You wipe at the tears in your eyes and are so focused on trying not to cry that you don’t notice Jihoon walking away. You do see him come back, blurry shape coming into focus as you blink away the tears. He holds something in his hand, a navy blue square. A throw pillow from the couch? 

He shifts it in his hand until he holds the corner with the zipper, swinging it a couple times back and forth. Then he yanks his arm back and arcs the pillow in a wide loop, landing directly on your head. 

“Ow!” You cry but Jihoon just swings again, hitting your arm this time. He hits you so hard it knocks you off balance, sending you to the floor. Jihoon doesn’t hesitate, swinging the pillow into you again and again, every inch of you. 

“You. Are. An. Idiot.” He grunts out each word with a blow. “You really think you’re better than him?” 

He finally pauses, not even breathing heavily. You shake your head to answer him. “Of course not.” 

“Good,” he says. Then he hits you again and again and again. 

“Ow, Jihoon, what the hell?” You bury your head in your knees and hold your arms over you, trying in vain to protect yourself. 

“I’m not your babysitter,” he says. “I’m not your father, or your brother, or any of that shit. I’m your best friend and you’re being an idiot and I’m not going to stop hitting you until you get some sense knocked into you.” He freezes, as if realizing exactly what he said. “Wait, no–that’s not what I mean, shit, sorry, but–” 

You peek out from your arms and find Jihoon opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. He looks like a fish out of water, and it occurs to you he is a fish out of water. He’s never had to comfort you before, probably never had to comfort anyone. No wonder he’s so bad at it. 

You wouldn’t laugh at him and borderline abuse, but your emotions are beyond fried, and he just looks so funny standing over you with a pillow raised, still sputtering half apologies. You try to stop the laugh before it comes out but it turns into a snort and then you can’t stop laughing, tears that you tried to push back falling freely. You lay back on the floor and laugh until your sides hurt, only vaguely aware of Jihoon laughing above you. Eventually he joins you on the floor. 

“You know what I meant,” he says. The pillow rests on the floor between his legs, all the fluff on the far end from the one-sided pillow fight. 

“I knew what you meant without the pillow.” 

“Too bad,” Jihoon says. “I’m tired of listening to the theme song of that god awful show. You could at least watch something like–” 

“I swear if you bring up an anime, you’ll feel exactly how hard that pillow can hit.” 

Jihoon laughs, patting it a couple times. “I saw him the other day. He looked tired.” He pauses but you don’t dare speak. “We didn’t speak. I don’t even think he saw me. But it doesn’t matter because I’m not the one he needs to talk to.” 

“I know,” you say. 

“Then why are you still on the floor?” 

Because you’re scared. Because it would be easier to just give up now, for once to ignore putting in the hard work and just let it pass. But just because it’s the easy option doesn’t mean it’s the right option. At the very least you need to apologize to him. 

“What if he hates me?” 

Jihoon snorts. “Then he’ll get some pillow violence too.” He pauses. “He doesn’t, though.”

“It doesn’t mean that it will turn out okay.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Jihoon says. “But no matter what happens, you’ll deal with it. And even if it absolutely sucks in the moment, eventually it will be over, and it sure as hell will be better than that stupid fucking show.” 

You nod, setting your chin on your knees. Your stomach turns in anticipation for what you will have to do, but he’s right. It’s time to stop running. Tonight is the Christmas party, and you were never formally uninvited. Somehow you doubt Seungcheol will throw you out. It’s time to get off the floor and get ready. 

“Have you ever thought of being a life coach?” 

“Hell no.” 

.

.

What am I doing here? You fake a smile at Seungcheol and swallow the shot as fast as you can, grimacing as the vodka burns everything from the inside of your mouth to the depths of your stomach. You should have just stuck to your mixed drink only policy but Soonyoung always has you breaking your rules. Even when he isn’t with you. 

Seungcheol disappears as soon as you take the drink, and you don't see anyone else you are comfortable enough to chat with, though that list is quite short. You do a turn of the house, which looks marginally better than the last time you saw it ,the benefit of bad lighting. It’s already crowded with more people than you’ve ever seen on campus. You make your way through each room on the lower floor, finding more than a couple bleach blondes. None are who you’re looking for. You stop in the living room, where you saw him last. 

“He isn’t here.” You turn at the voice. An unfamiliar boy stands next to you, holding a half-empty Smirnoff Ice. “He went to visit family or something.” He pauses, looking you up and down. “At least that’s what he said.” 

You nod. You find it doesn’t surprise you that he seems to know who you are. You suppose you’ve grown used to it, just one of the side-effects of being close with Soonyoung. Though it’s still strange, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable anymore. Or it wouldn’t, if you didn’t think this stranger is implying that it’s your fault Soonyoung isn’t at the ‘Party of the Year.’ 

You can’t stand his gaze so you make your way back towards the drinks, grabbing the first bottle you could find and chugging half of the lukewarm drink. It tastes like a fruit you can’t recognize and carbonation and the more you drink the harder it is to swallow but you force it down. 

You came to apologize. He isn’t here, so why do you stay? Because you promised him? Do you really miss him that much? That you would come here and suffer through all this chaos, just for the memory of him? It doesn’t make any sense but you think that might be a side effect of the alcohol. You get another drink just in case you’re still sober. 

.

.

Your head pounds, the aching feeling of the stage between drunk and sober. Normally you’d like to be sound asleep by now, or at least in the comfort of your home, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. It’s hot and sweaty, the music is way too loud, and you can’t find water anywhere, but you stay anyway, because you’re an idiot that fell in love. 

You curl up on the couch, opposite of a couple making out as if the room isn’t full of people, waiting for just a glimpse of him that will never appear. Even drunk, you think it’s pitiful, but you can’t stop. 

You didn’t think you could fall asleep in all the noise but you open your eyes when you feel the world tilt sideways. You’re vaguely aware of the arms underneath your legs and back, cradling you against someone’s chest. No, not just someone. 

Because you aren’t enough of an idiot, you can tell it’s him, his sweet scent, maybe even just his arms. Soonyoung carries you out of the living room and up the stairs, the blaring music fading only slightly. 

“I thought you weren’t here,” you mumble. 

Soonyoung frowns down at you. “You okay?” 

You shake your head, suddenly realizing there are tears in your eyes. No, I’m not okay, I love you, you want to say. He squeezes you a little tighter, trying to hug you while still carrying you. 

With your head resting against his chest, you can fully appreciate his beauty. His hair is black, which suits him even though he looks nothing like your Soonyoung anymore. You reach up and trace the lines of his face that are unchanging, the sharp straight line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his nose, his soft eyebrows. You drop your hand when you realize he’s staring at you, belatedly realizing you never got to his lips. You can only imagine how soft they’d be, soft like Soonyoung himself. 

“You’re crying,” Soonyoung says softly. You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or not. He pauses in front of a door, struggling to open it without dropping you. Finally the door swings open and he sets you down on a bed, taking a deep breath and sitting beside you. 

He brushes the tears from your eyes, as Soonyoung as ever. Sweet as ever. Sweet and Soonyoung. They should be the same word. You make a mental note to email Merriam-Webster’s dictionary and make the suggestion. 

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, just watching you with those perfect eyes. His hand rests on your face even though the tears are long gone, thumb tracing shapes on your cheek. 

“You swore you’d do anything for me,” you say. 

“Anything,” Soonyoung repeats. 

You turn to the walls, knocking his hand off your cheek, not daring to look him in the eyes. Even drunk, you are a coward. He’s put up pictures on his wall, a couple Polaroids but mostly printed pictures, with the frat, some childhood pictures, and one that you recognize. The picture of the two of you at the beach that you thought you didn’t send, where you are looking at him with all the love in your heart. You trace his smile, blinding even in paper form. 

“Could you maybe try loving me back then?” You mumble. Your eyes feel heavy between the alcohol and the tears and you’ve said what you needed to say, so you let them take over, closing your eyes and letting the blasting music from downstairs drown out any thoughts. And because it’s so loud and you’ve already drifted off to sleep, there’s no way you could hear his answer. 

“I already do.” 

.

.

The first thing you do when you wake up is throw up. You make it out of the bed but not to the bathroom, mostly because you don’t actually know where it is. You grab the nearest bucket-shaped item, which happens to be a mostly empty trash can. You lean away as soon as you’re done, breathing through your mouth and looking away from the mess. Belatedly, you realize someone is patting your back, brushing hair out of your face. 

“Better?” Soonyoung asks. His knees rests against your lower back, one hand resting on your back, the other caressing your face. Thank god you already threw up because looking at him makes your stomach twist again and if there was anything in you, it would come up again. If you could throw up your heart, you would. As it is, the organ is trying to climb its way up your throat, whether it’s guilt or heartbreak you don’t know. 

 You nod in answer to his question, letting him help you up. Your head pounds and though you know you won’t throw up again, your stomach flips. Right, your policy of mixed drinks is definitely reinstated after this. 

“Sorry I threw up in your trash can,” you say. 

“Believe me, that is not the worst that trash can has seen,” Soonyoung says. “Wait, that sounds bad, I didn’t mean it in a weird way, I just mean–” He stops himself, shaking his head. “It’s a frat house.” 

“It’s your room,” you say softly. With sober (albeit heavily hungover) eyes, you take in the room again. It’s tiny, one bed pushed against a wall with a desk set right next to it. Unsurprisingly, it’s stacked with protein powder and a pile of frat flyers, laptop balancing off the edge, not a paper in sight. Except for the one next to his bed, the walls are bare, an ugly shade of beige except for a circle filled with white plaster that looks suspiciously like the reformed crime scene of a fist going through drywall. It must be from whoever owned the room before Soonyoung. 

The wall next to his bed is covered in pictures. You remember being amazed by them last night. Your eyes zero in on the picture of the two of you, right next to the pillow that’s still dented from your head. 

���Did I steal your bed?” You frown except the movement hurts your head. 

“I slept in Johnny’s room since he’s decided to disappear off the face of the planet instead of accepting the fact that he graduates next semester,” Soonyoung says. “I actually just came in here for some clothes, which reminds me.” He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a wrinkled t-shirt and handing it to you. “If you want a change.” 

You glance down and feel like throwing up all over again. Your favorite shirt is covered in stains, alcohol, vomit, and something you definitely don’t want to name. If you weren’t feeling so terrible already, you’d cry that Soonyoung is seeing you like this. 

“I’ll get you a toothbrush, too,” he mutters, disappearing and leaving you to scramble to switch shirts. The white dri-fit is meant to be a workout shirt, though it’s clear that it would be oversize on Soonyoung. Either way, the soft fabric is gentle on your skin, much better than the jeans you slept in. Too bad you’re stuck in them until you get back to your apartment. 

You could run away right now. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t be surprised. But he’s being nice to you, so much nicer than you deserve. Sweet and Soonyoung. But you came here to apologize, and though last night got derailed, you can’t keep running from it. Besides, it’s not like the morning can get much worse. 

So when Soonyoung comes back proudly brandishing an unopened toothbrush that he may or may not have stolen from Seungcheol’s bathroom, you accept it gratefully. You stare yourself down in the bathroom, fighting nausea and an impending migraine because you have a mission to achieve, a real mission unlike last night. It’s still a haze, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget how gently Soonyoung cradled you against his chest, the brush of his fingers on your cheek. If he didn’t show up this morning, you’d think it was a dream. 

Soonyoung’s door is open when you finish but he isn’t in his room. You grab your bag from the floor and venture down the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. There’s a couple people passed out in the living room, and one person snoring softly in the kitchen, head folded in his arms in a position that must be incredibly painful for his neck. But it’s where you find Soonyoung, digging through the fridge and finally pulling out a water bottle. He hands it to you, along with a bottle of pills. 

“Thank you,” you sigh, not even bothering to check the label for the brand. You take a couple and chug half the bottle, gaslighting yourself into believing that it will instantly revive you (it doesn’t work and your head still pounds). 

“Are you hungry?” Soonyoung asks. He opens the fridge again, this time wide enough to show the shelves that are filled with beer, vodka, and White Claws. There’s a pizza box and some eggs, but not much else. 

“How are any of you alive?” You ask softly, glancing at the snoring person on the counter. 

“Yuta can sleep through an apocalypse, don’t worry about him,” Soonyoung says, waving his hand. He closes the fridge, leaning against it. “And most of us keep our actual food in mini-fridges. I just cleared mine out for break, so I don’t have anything in it.” He doesn’t say anything else about vanishing. 

“I’m pretty sure that pizza has been in there since the start of the semester and I’ve never seen eggs in here before though, so I don’t think you should risk any of this,” Soonyoung says. “McDonald’s fries are a far superior hangover cure, they’ve never failed me.” 

“There’s a McDonald’s nearby?” 

Soonyoung grins, pulling keys out of his pocket and spinning them around his fingers a couple times, except they fly off and clatter on the floor. The man asleep on the counter, Yuta apparently, stirs but doesn’t move. You can’t help but smile as Soonyoung scrambles to retrieve them from the floor. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered. 

“There isn’t one,” Soonyoung explains, leading the way to the door. “But I have the keys to Seungcheol’s car.” 

“I’m not really comfortable with grand theft auto,” you say, though you don’t stop following him to Seungcheol’s giant white Jeep. 

“He gave me the keys last night when I walked in,” Soonyoung says. “Something about owing me. He was pretty drunk.” He darts around to the passenger side before you can, opening the door for you. He waves his hand when you frown at him, as if you’re the one acting strange. Thinking with this headache is too hard so you just get into the car and strap the seatbelt on. 

“I can’t believe you thought I’d steal a car,” Soonyoung says. He turns the engine on and scans the front of the car before finally settling his right hand on the gear shift. 

“You have driven this car before, right?” 

“Of course,” Soonyoung says a little too fast. You grab onto the door handle and hope that your stomach really is empty. 

Soonyoung’s driving isn’t the worst you’ve ever experienced; that title goes to Jihoon, who was banned from touching car keys after his Mario Kart driving. That said, you think he’s a good second place. He slams on the gas and the brakes too hard and drives altogether too fast. He blasts the radio and sings along purposefully off key. You should be terrified but it’s the most fun you’ve ever had riding in the passenger seat. 

“I’m never riding with you again,” you say, breathless from laughing. He pulls to a stop at the red light, the Golden arches of your destination still one light away. “You know yellow lights mean slow down right?”

“I stopped at this one!” Soonyoung says. “I’ll have you know I haven’t been in an accident.” He pauses. “Since I was nineteen.” 

You nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling fully. “That’s what I figured.” You peek at Soonyoung and he’s smiling too. 

So different from the last time you saw him. You don’t deserve this. You shouldn’t be able to laugh and joke around with him so easily, not when you still haven’t apologized. And Soonyoung shouldn’t be looking at you like that, genuine fondness in his eyes. 

“The light’s green,” you say. His smile fades a little when he turns his head and drives ahead, stepping lightly for once. You’re so close now, but a car going straight in the right lane prevents him from turning. 

The pain medicine must have kicked in because your headache is slowly fading, replaced by heartache that no medication can cure. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You blurt out. 

The blinker beeps a steady rhythm in the empty silence. “Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Nothing’s ever obvious with you, Soonyoung,” you say softly. 

“Oh.” The light turns green and he guides the car slowly into the parking lot, stopping in a spot instead of pulling up to the drive through. As soon as the car is in park, he turns to face you. There’s a crease in his forehead that you recognize from the rare occasions that he would actually talk to you seriously. “YN, I genuinely thought I was being clear about this from the beginning, but if you still really don’t get it, then I’ll say it straight up: I like you. I’ve liked you since the day we met and then I fell in love with you. 

“Did you know you’re the first person that’s ever genuinely believed in me? I mean, I know I have friends, and my family means well, but they always get this look in their eye whenever I talk about trying for things, like it was cute that I was trying, but they never actually believed in me. And I started to believe them too. I started to believe that I couldn’t believe in myself.” He frowns. “That makes no sense. The point is, you are the reason I started to believe in myself again. 

“No one’s ever looked at me like you do. No one’s ever told me to get my shit together–well, they have, but you’re the only one that told me it was because I could be better. 

“You say it wasn’t obvious, but I’ve tried to tell you a thousand times. I flirted, I tried to ask you on a date so many times, and I finally accepted that you’d never see me like that, so I was a dick. I told you off, even though you were right. I’m so sorry for that, and I’m sorry I ran away, and I’m sorry it took me so long to apologize.” 

“Stop,” you say. Soonyoung’s eyes widen, tears welling up, and you realize he thinks you’re rejecting him. “Stop apologizing!” His brow creases in confusion, an adorable frown. Summoning all your courage, you reach out, resting your hand on his. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I didn’t have any right to judge you and the choices you were making, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you when I knew how much the bet meant to you.”

You squeeze his hand, closing your eyes. “And I think I was a little oblivious on purpose. I’m not the kind of person that has crushes, let alone crushes that like me back, so I freaked a little and missed all the signs.” You open your eyes and grin at him. It’s easy to feel brave when he smiles back at you. “But I like you, Soonyoung. I like you so much, I don’t have enough words to express it. My whole life has been about my future, my career, and it’s exhausting, but being with you makes it all exciting again. Like, no matter what happens, if you’re with me, it won’t just be okay, it’ll be fun.” 

Soonyoung beams. “Really?” 

You squeeze his hand. “I like you.” Like the first time you took the LSAT, you can’t think of a single word, except instead of damning your future this feels like the start of it. Soonyoung sits across from you and you don’t need words. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, but reality sets in when your stomach growls. You glance outside the window and remember where you are. “Did you just confess to me in a McDonald’s parking lot?” 

“Better than drunk in my own bed.” 

“I didn’t!” You let go of his hand to hide your face. 

Soonyoung grins. “You were cute!” 

“I don’t remember it, it doesn't count!” 

“Whatever you say,” Soonyoung says, leaning over the center console. He gently pulls your hands away from your face, hand circling your wrist gently. You instinctively hold your breath, though you don’t lean away. Soonyoung leans a little closer, forehead resting against yours. 

“This okay?” He whispers, breath kissing your lips, and you remember that less than an hour ago, you were throwing up. Your head still aches and your stomach is still queasy and your whole body feels disgusting. 

“We are not having our first kiss in a McDonald’s parking lot,” you say, leaning back. Soonyoung sighs, but he sits back in his chair, settling for grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours. 

“Fine,” Soonyoung says. He rubs his thumb back and forth, and when you meet his eyes, you see a familiar glint of trouble. “You know I’m still sworn to you. Whatever you want.” 

The words go straight to your heart. You could live a thousand lives and never meet someone as genuine as Soonyoung. You know that he means it, heart and soul, that he’d do anything for you. And it should be terrifying that he’s willing to bear his heart for you, that you are willing to do the same. But it’s Soonyoung. It’s easy to trust him with it, because even though he breaks half the computers he touches and can’t hold onto a pencil for his life, he won’t ever drop your heart. 

I love you. One day you’ll be able to say it, one day you’ll scream it like you so desperately want to. But until then, you settle for his certified brilliant smile and the gentle brush of his lips on the back of your hand, only letting go to turn the engine back on. 

“Let’s get you some fries,” he says. “Then kisses?” 

You shake your head and laugh, slipping your hand back into his. 

Before he can put the car into gear, his phone rings. He stares at the screen for a moment, frowning like he can’t decide whether he should answer it or not. Finally he slides the green across, turning on speaker. 

“Hey Seungcheol, I’m with—” 

“Where the hell are you? And where is my car?” Seungcheol’s voice is somewhere between angry and concerned. “You think it’s okay to vanish and then show up only to steal my car?” 

“First of all, you gave me the keys,” Soonyoung says. He glances at you. “And I’m at McDonald’s because YN desperately needed a hangover cure.” 

“Hey,” you say so Seungcheol knows you’re there. 

The line is quiet for so long you think Soonyoung’s phone has finally given up on him but eventually he says, “You’re with YN?” 

“We talked,” he says. “And we’re good.” 

You snort. “That’s how you’re going to describe it?” 

“Are we not good?” 

You glance at your hand still intertwined with his, the Soonyoung Sparkle glittering back at you when you look him in the eyes. Good? There’s not a word to describe how you feel right now. 

“We are beyond good.” 

.

.

“Are you crying?” You whisper. Soonyoung shakes his head, chin brushing against your head but when he inhales again, he sniffles. You reach up to pat his cheek and are entirely unsurprised when it’s wet. On screen Elle Woods continues her speech, for once not wearing pink. 

“She’s just so cool,” Soonyoung says. You lift your head off his chest so you can look him in the eyes. The temptation to tease him is hard to resist but he pouts his lips and you see another tear slip out. You kiss his cheek, out of habit more than anything. Strange how much can change in two weeks, how something you’ve never imagined doing has become natural. But being with Soonyoung is just like that. New and old at the same time, the kind of comfort that has you planning how to make this last a lifetime. 

Soonyoung wraps his arms around you tighter, so you nestle back into his chest, turning away from the end of the movie to close your eyes and breathe in his cologne. 

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck. “The whole bet was based on a movie you haven’t seen.” 

“You’re missing the end,” he says. His voice rumbles in your ear, drowning out his heartbeat. 

“I’ve seen it before.” Your bed really isn’t built for two people to lay down together. You are laying more on Soonyoung than the mattress but it’s not the first time. From the way he holds you, you doubt it’ll be the last. 

The credits roll too quickly, but Soonyoung still doesn’t let go. He pulls you up so that your head is next to his, nose centimeters away from yours. 

“So am I officially qualified to go to law school?” He asks. 

“You are Elle Woods certified,” you say. “But you’re sure that’s what you want?” 

“I mean I have to get in. But I figure if I’m going to waste away at a desk, I might as well do it for something I believe in.” He pauses. “With someone that believes in me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, breath tickling the sensitive skin. You can’t help but sigh. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s what you want,” you say, after several heartbeats of struggling to think. 

“I want…” His words “To be with you. However you’ll have me.” His arms loosen, hands sliding down to your waist. 

“Still not answering the question,” you breathe out but you can’t even remember what the question is, not when he’s shifting to lay on top of you, lips inching their way up your neck. He kisses your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips, then stops, pulling away and meeting your eyes again.

The Soonyoung Sparkle. The grinch has nothing on you–your heart swells so large it feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest–Alien style. Does he know what he does to you? How he’s made everything in your life shine? How happy you are when he’s with you? 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

Soonyoung blinks at you. “You…” 

“I love you,” you say again, this time with more confidence. “I really, really love you.” 

Soonyoung grins, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, moving like the world outside has stopped. He makes a bubble around you again, or maybe it’s your own heart; either way the only thing that exists is the way his hands inch up your shirt, the way his lips begin to press harder against yours. You give up on coherent thoughts, settling for wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. 

“I love you, too,” Soonyoung whispers between kisses. “If that wasn’t obvious.” 

Soonyoung who always treated you like you were enough already. Soonyoung who does everything with 100% of his heart. Soonyoung who has always been sincere with you, from the first day you met him. Soonyoung, who you are so lucky to be loved by. 

You don’t know how to say any of this in a way that makes sense so you let his fire melt you until you are putty in his arms. He pulls away, and the Soonyoung Sparkle burns, your personal stars flickering back at you.  

“You want to–” Soonyoung starts to say, but the door slams open. Then Soonyoung falls on you, pillow rolling off his head. 

“I’m taking this back!” Someone shouts while you hear Jihoon cursing. 

“Read the room, idiot!” Soonyoung pushes off of you, sitting up and pulling your shirt down as smoothly as he can. You sit up, trying to decide if you should be embarrassed or angry. Facing Jun, frozen midstep with his jaw hanging open a little and Jihoon in the doorway with his arms folded, shaking his head slightly, you opt for the latter. 

“Does no one knock in Colombia?” You frown at him. “And when did you get back? Why didn’t you call?” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he mumbles, staring at his feet. “And you were supposed to be alone, according to my sources.” He glares at Jihoon. 

“YN didn’t say he was coming over,” he says with a shrug. 

You turn your frown to him. “You walked in halfway through the movie, I literally shouted ‘Soonyoung’s over.’” 

“I had my headphones on,” he says, though he’s avoiding your eyes too. Typical of your friends, never claiming responsibility for their actions. 

“So this is Soonyoung,” Jun says, turning to face him. Soonyoung moved to the edge of the bed, too far away for your taste but probably an appropriate distance for your friends, especially compared to what they walked in on. Jun tilts his head. “You dyed your hair.” 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung scratches the back of his head. “Spur of the moment thing.” You miss the blonde, surprisingly fitting considering it isn’t his natural color. But the black suits him too, and probably will help him with law school interviews. Then again, knowing Soonyoung, this color won’t last long either. Good thing there isn’t a color you don’t think suits him. 

“We should do this properly,” Soonyoung says. “Go out for dinner or something.” 

“Hey, I didn’t get dinner,” Jihoon says. 

“You want to get dinner with me?” Soonyoung perks up. 

“No, I’m protesting unfair treatment.” 

“It’s not unfair, I’m just clearly his favorite,” Jun says. 

“Can you guys stop fighting over my boyfriend?” You say. 

Jihoon and Jun stare at you. When Soonyoung turns to face you, he grins, eyes sparkling. 

“What?” 

“You just called him your boyfriend,” Jun says. 

“Well… he is.” You feel your cheeks flush. “Why are you guys making it weird?” 

“It’s not weird,” Soonyoung says. He scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s cute,” he whispers in your ear. “Adorable.” This only makes you flush even more. 

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt, so I’ll just grab this and you two can get back to… whatever.” Jun takes a step towards your bookcase. You grab the pillow that he threw at Soonyoung and nail him in the chest, earning a laugh from Jihoon. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

“The book is mine, Soonyoung never fulfilled the bet!” Jun says. You stand up, blocking him from your Pride and Prejudice. 

“Hey, I followed through!” Soonyoung says. “We’re dating!” 

“I remember the bet stating that you had to ask YN out after you took the LSAT.” Jun turns to him. 

“And I did,” Soonyoung says. “You never said it had to be right after.” 

Jun eyes him. “That’s cheating.” 

“That’s being a lawyer,” you say. “And I think he’s going to be really good at it.” 

Jun glances between you and Soonyoung and shakes his head. “Whatever, I’ll get my book back another day.” 

You step closer to Soonyoung and he links his pinky with yours. You glance at your friends. “Are you going to stand there forever or are we getting dinner?” 

“You two don’t want to get back to what you were doing?” Jihoon asks. 

You slip your hand into Soonyoung’s. He meets your eyes and he’s only been your boyfriend for two weeks but looking at him is like looking home. There’s no need to rush. 

“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to pick where we go.” 

“We should make them pay, too,” Soonyoung says. 

You grin at him. “You are the smartest person I know.” 

[walker-extended-universe]

Season 2, Episode 2

“The One Who Got Away” is a very apt title, I think.

I’m gonna talk about the B plot of this episode first before I get into all the heavy stuff.

So August, Stella, Colton, and Todd are all in Saturday detention. Stella and Augsut and Colton are in detention for the parking lot incident. Todd’s reason is unknown but I’m willing to bet he was skipping classes or something. Seems like something he would do. Trey likely in a bid to distract himself from his mounting worry over Micki and Walker’s silence, sets up an escape room type situation for them to do to work on their communication skills. August and Todd are in one room, Stella and Colton are in another and the goal is to find a key to unlock the door. The key to finding the key is in their “shared history”. Todd and August find their key first after talking about Ruby and the whole mess related to her. Stella and Colton take a little longer due to their more strained relationship. Colton makes some surprisingly revealing comments about his parents’ attempts at dodging the divorce bullet and how it’s affected him. Eventually, theyfind their key as well and Stella gives him a ride back to the property. While on the road, they come across an unknown horse and decide to help it.

Part of me wonders if this was meant to set up a sort of romance plotline between Colton and Stella. I have a feeling Todd will at least be mentioned as August’s friend in later episodes, if not more screentime. The only complaint I have about about this entire episode is that Colton’s reveal about hsi aprent’s didn’t seem natural. He didn’t like Stella at this point and there was no reason for him to give her a real response to the question “Why are you so angry?”. It felt more like something that should’ve come later but it all worked out.

Now for the main plot of the story.

“GM” or Garrison is Seranos’ right-hand man and Micki’s former flame. He doesn’t reveal who she is at the meeting but he does take her somewhere private for a meeting to discuss a possible deal. She is agressive and confrontational, demanding evidence or proof that he’s being serious about this. It’s revealed that they intended to marry 14 years ago but she left him stranded at the atlar when he refused to change his criminal lifestyle. He tells her he can provide evidence for all of Seranos’ crimes if he gets immunity. He also reveals the identity of the sniper and the reason for the hit in Austin: Seranos is getting paranoid. Denise Davidson, despite Liam’s protests, agrees to the deal and heads to Del Rio to assist in the case. 

With Seranos cleaning up all his loose ends and destorying evidence, it turns otu they’re too late to collect the promised evidence as one of Seranos’ men sets the building on fire just as Micki and Walker are maing their move. After some more discussion, they decide to send Garrison in one last time to get a confession. While waiting for Garrison to return, Micki finds out that he was more involved with Spider’s death than he previously claimed and moves in to confront him. There, Garrison admits that he was the sniper in Austin and that if he desont’ kil Walker now, it’ll be over for him and Micki too. In a rush of events, Micki stops Garrison from shooting Walker but inadvertently sends him falling to his death. Seranos is captured by Captain James. Walker later finds Micki drinking and listening to Garrison’s last mix-CD for her.

This was a very emotional story. Micki’s romantic past hasn’t been explroed much beyond Trey and the idea of her getting hitched at 19 is foreign and certainly not something I would’ve imagined for her. I also find it interesting that she considered Garrison to be the one who got away despite the fact that she was the one who left. I wonder how hte vents of this episode will affect Micki and Trey’s relationship going forward as well. She’s going to be feeling the effects of this for a while and I imagine Trey won’t be too happy to learn about this very major part of Micki’s life so late into their relationship.

This episode revealed some more abotu Walker and Micki’s relationship as well. It’s clear they care fo reach other very much. Almost too much. Micki risked her life and her current relationships to go on a job specifically for Walker. Walker spends the entire time questioning Micki’s safety and her mental state and consistently suggests ideas that would bring her back otu of it despite the consequences to himself. I wonder if this will impact DA Davidson’s opinion on whether they should remain partners.

I can’t talk about that without talking about Walker and James. Walker was pissed that James hadn’t clued him on about the fact that he might’ve been a target for the hit too. James had his reasons not to and made sure Walker was protected but that lead to its own problems. I did enjoy watching them work together and I hope we see more of that in the future, even if it’s just in flashbacks.

Of course, there’s Walker and Denise too. They didn’t have a lot in this episode but what they did have indicates a clear level of respect for each other between them. Denise’s comment about the fire has me thinking too. I wonder if there will be any potential romantic plotline between the two of them. She is probably getting divorced soon, after all....

I do want to take a moment to talk about Liam in this episode. He only directly interacted with Denis but every moment was charged with tension. He is clearly not happy to be working under her and most of his time was spent quiestioning her decisions, even if they made sense. It’s like he was looking for a reason to professionally question her credibility for the DA position. I can’t imagine that dying down anytime soon.

All in all, a very good episode that completed it’s own plot while setting up pletny for the future. I, for one, am very excited for the next episode.

[fumikomiyasaki]

Its been a hot minute, but any of these with our ships? 🤑 👏 ❤️ -twistedikon

👏 to congratulate them

It was Graduation day for many students, some HSA students visited NRC to join the festivities. Sindren spotted out of hte crowd a person she wanted to approach an sprinted through it, to jump hug Ikon, causing them to fall over.

"You did it, congratulations Ikon."

She showered him wih affection.

🤑 as thanks for something

Dakota was reading under a tree as Tyler surprised him with a visit.

"Unsual to see you out of your work." Dakota smiled.

As Tyler walked up to him and took him in his arms Dakota was kind of confussed.

"Thank you.... for always being there for me...."

"Whats wrong? Are you fine?"

"I feel mostly like I take things for granted currently. A talk with a buisness partner made me realize... so especially because you give me comfort being here and make me keep moving on...I want to thank you."

"Its sweet I am just not used to the more Emotional Tyler yet."

They both layed in each others arms.

❤️ whilst confessing their love

"Henry I need to talk to you about something..."

There was a light blush on her face but she also seemed nervous and figgity.

"Sure, I am all ears."

An awkward silence broke out after, Henry seemed a bit worried about her after the last days of hard work in the dorm.

"I need to say it but, after all the interviews I did with you for my writing... it seems that I slowly fell in love with you and I.... wanted to ask if you might have want to have a date with me..."

With time a light smile appeared on Henrys face and he instinctly hugged.

"Wha-"

"Of course I would... I actually hoped you would say that..."

[malka-lisitsa]

"See the problem with that," The younger vampire confessed, "Is that all of this is brand new to me. I admit, it's rather embarrassing to be involved with the Mikaelson's the way I am, especially Elijah and not have ever heard of this underground ring of formidable vampires." Apparently she wasnt the only one that kept secrets from lovers.

She tried to keep her bodylanguage non threatening, while also avoiding bad habits that still showed up when she was in the presence of people that out classed her. Especially older ones who could probably smell peasant in the smallest behaviors. After all Aurora could tell the moment she saw her that she was less accoustom to the life style simply by what she was wearing. She had to be VERY careful how much she gave away till she knew who she could and couldn't trust.

"However, if you'd be so kind as to give me that contact information... or even better, introduce me to Tristan..." She let that hang there for a second, inflection in her voice making a question out of her statement.

Katherine knew who Tristan was, but she'd never met him. She wanted to. He was talked about with a nasty taste in the Mikaelson's mouths, which made him her top priority. Whatever it was about him that made him a problem for them- was something Katherine wanted to be in on.

Similarly to Aurora, Katherine's slow collection of information as of late was proving to be irritating at absolute best. She hated not knowing everything, it was a lack of complete control which made her nervous, and antsy which only lead to impulsive behaviors.

Katherine has two modes, calm and collected mastermind or frantic threatened animal lashing out in hopes to make a kill. Luckily right now she was in the former category and keeping all of her word choices specific, trying to cultivate an air between them that ackowledged Aurora was her better- but also that Katherine wasn't an easy mark either. Too weak and Aurora's likely to just dispose of her, too strong and the same is likely to occur. She has to be in hte perfect middle ground to stay INTERESTING without over stepping.

"I'd be happy to let you get on with your night, I do apologize for any inconvenience my presence has caused you." A very subtle smirk to accompany that apology.

The step that the other woman took was a clear sign that she'd caught the obvious shift in Aurora's mood, and that it had put her on guard. That was good. She knew both that Aurora was not pleased by what had been said, and that Aurora's displeasure was something of which she ought to be wary. Of course, the woman did put on a rather good show of trying to release the tension. She did not pretend that it did not exist, nor did she try to recover by being overly deferential to the point of being condescending; Aurora so hated when people tried to be condescending toward her. No, instead the woman remained collected to the naked eye, even if her heartbeat had quickened, not that Aurora would point such a thing out.

Instead, Aurora remained cold as she surveyed the woman. 500. It was rare to come across a vampire that was that old these days, apart from the ones that were already well known to Aurora. Clearly, there was a brain beneath the beauty, but seemingly not enough of one to have caught her brother's attention sooner. Or, perhaps this was simply one that had been forced to become clever after she'd become a vampire. Aurora would learn that in time.

"Darling, you'll have to be more specific." 'Arrogant psychopath' was charge which has been levied at the majority of the guests that evening. Primarily by Lucien. "Though, this is meant to be a party. It hardly seems the appropriate place to gather information, unless it's about one of the guests. This is a party, not a meet and greet. If you seek an audience with someone, I suggest that you contact their scheduler. " As things were, it looked as if even Tristan's secretary would survive the evening. Though perhaps not this woman before her. It was a party! Aurora was not in the mood for an interrogation, even if she was the one asking the questions. As much as Aurora adored games, slowly extract information from the party crasher was moving a bit too slowly to amuse her.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Sell and Repurchase

Requested Imagine: While trying to look for an old friend, you find her in the most unexpected of places. Even if, for her, it had been a long time coming.

You typed on your keyboard, getting the pop-up from your newest contact. This one is just asking for the contents that you had stolen from a company. Not the biggest one, but one that would have serious repercussions should you have been caught. 

You hadn’t been, as you had been taught by (who, to you) was one of the best; Skye. 

Saying that name always had a pang in your chest; she was your best friend, one that had helped you learn how to hack and how to do the Rising Tide podcast you had been working on for a few years before…

Well, before it all fell apart. 

Now, the Tide was almost over and done with. Or, rather, you were.

You sold the secrets for money, for a chance to run. You didn’t sell it to some big corpo, just some enemies of the Tide and wanted to see it come crashing down. 

With that, you went dark. You started anew, here in Denver, not really intent on making friends. 

Not when your only one was fuck knows where. 

You knew that those who you sold the info to and who you worked for had other intents with the information. You knew that, despite what everyone said, there was always something else going on in the background, something bad they hid in the shadows. 

“You really think I do, kid?” Your local checkout guy asked you as you paid for your things, “You think I’m just gonna sell you out like that?” 

“Just a matter of time. Plus, I’m helping you out, you help me.” 

“Maybe. But, even if you weren’t, I wouldn’t of anyway.” You looked around as he packed your bag, seeing a customer with a hat on picking out a drink. He seemed to always be there, but so did a lot of other customers.

“Sure.” You brushed it off, going back to your van.

Again, you typed, sending the information off. Now, you waited. Waited for the pingback that would get you one step closer to finding out whether or not your best friend was still alive. 

However, as the ping went off, the door to your van opened, with a man who wore shades and a smirk greeted you. 

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Whose it to?” You replied with, despite already having an idea. 

“SHIELD.” With that, a bag went over your head. 

Your cuffs kept you to the chair, again, as you tried to pull on it, “Fuck.” You cursed. It wasn’t budging. 

The door opened, with that same man walking in, this time without shades, “I’m Phil Coulson, and I’m sure this is really weird right now. But, I have reason to believe you’ve just sold some valuable data to a client that has ties to a very evil corporation.” The man, Coulson, told you as he sat down opposite you. 

“I just get it for them. I knew going in it wasn’t exactly going to be nice.” You confessed. 

Coulson nodded, “Anything else you want to tell me?” He prompted. 

“Nope. I’m sure you SHIELD guys have got a state of the art equipment to find them though, right? I mean, if I can do that from my van….you might need an upgrade.” 

Coulson smiled, “Yeah, maybe we do. But, we’ve got one of our best working on that. She’s been eager to talk to you.” 

“Despite not being interested, I always had a way with women.” You smirked, trying to hide the small amount of fear you had. 

“Yeah, she told us you’d be like that. Managed to make a short file for you.” Ok, now he had your interest. She? There was only one --

The door opened, with the woman you have been trying to find all this time. 

“Thanks, AC. Sorry for taking so long, Y/N’s always been good with this type of stuff.” She apologised. She sounded more mature, not the goofy friend you hand known. 

“Nothing to apologise for, agent Skye.” Agent? He looked back to you, “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to punish you or anything. You didn’t know. As Skye tells us, you’re a good guy. Just, tell her what we need, then we’ll be on our way.” He vowed, before leaving. 

Now it was just the two of you.

She sat down. You could see, in her eyes, that this reunion seemed to carry the same weight as it had to you.

Two best friends. Two siblings by bond coming back together. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Her voice was light. She had lost the professionalism to it the moment she spoke to you.

Now, you just had to find out how the fuck she ended up here. Why she had stayed. That was a big one; you had never stayed in more than one location for this long before. Why change now?

“You ready?” She asked, opening a very small file. Inside was your photo. Ah, so she was looking through what SHIELD had on you. 

You leaned forward, “Oh yeah, I’m ready.” You answered. 

Time to get some answers of your own.

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

There was a man Skye had met, just before Miles. The one who came before. Miles and him were friends, but himself and Skye didn’t become a thing until after. His name was Peter. 

“Y/N, born in --”

“You don’t need to read from that, Skye. You know me, just like I know you.” You interrupted with. 

Skye looked at you, eyes hiding the emotion that laid behind them, “Or, I want to know how you ended up here. You wanna catch me up?” 

She fully closed the file, pushing it to one side, “You wanna tell me who you were working for?” She fired back.

“Share for share. I go, you go.” You ‘offered’. 

“You first.” She was waiting. 

“No idea who they were. They just offered me something.”

“Money?” She guessed. 

“Nah, got gigs for that.” You answered. 

“Then what? Give me something, Y/N. Something I can use to help you get out of this.” That’s ironic. 

“You. They said they had information on you. Besides, you not give them enough for me to get out this cleanly anyway.” Something happened in her eyes. They widened, for sure, but there seemed to be a bit of fear in them too. 

However, she was quick to cover it up, “Tried to hack SHIELD to find anything out on my parents. Tried to find some things on yours, too.” She said, voice delicate. 

You looked to the table, before up to her, “Told you, didn’t want to know ‘em --”

“I know...I’m sorry,” You shook your head, telling her to not worry about it, “Anyways, they found me, dragged me into a different room to this. But, same flavour, really: drab colours.” You let out a chuckle at her words. She smiled. 

“Guy said it was a shell company. Just wanted some files. I went and got ‘em.” You said, holding up your end of the deal. 

Peter was good; he was a kind, gentle, soul. Despite everything he had gone through, he had never lost the gentleness he had that his foster father had deemed as weak. 

There was a time when you had a nightmare, and Skye was driving. Peter was there, waking you up and helping you calm down. 

“Are they ok?” Skye asked, looking back at you both through the mirror. 

You nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, they’re good. They’re good.” He assured his (then) girlfriend. 

“I helped them out. I helped them get what they wanted. They wanted Mike, I helped them get him.” She continued to tell you.

“So, you gave him up?” Skye gave you a head tilt and silent glare. 

“No, I didn’t. He had powers, and needed to be brought in.” She defended. 

“I have powers. And you guys didn’t run at me with guns Or you tell them that from the get go, and that’s why you didn’t come running in with guns?” 

“You do. And my intel played a part. Along with other pieces.” Now you looked a bit confused, “Guy who worked in the shop you went to --”

“The cashier?” 

“No, a customer.” Shit. 

“Fuck.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N --” You stopped her.

“Did the cashier know?” She shook her head. 

“Guy with the hat that was always there. That was the agent.” You just nodded.

“We stopped Mike, I was made an offer; I was given the chance to be apart of something, Y/N. Be a part of a team. That, and I got the Tide an in.” 

“Alright, you ready, little sibling?” Skye asked you as you both set up the mics. You nodded. 

She started the broadcast to the rest of the world, telling them what you had found on SHIELD and other organisations like it; the ones who covered things up. 

Peter sat in the driver’s seat, playing look out to see if anyone looked suspicious. He looked at you both through the mirror with a soft smile. His phone went off, it was Miles calling. 

“Used the same backdoor to the place you showed me how to open.” You said. 

“Wait, there was already a back door?” She questioned. 

“Yeah, it’s what I used to get into to get the data.” 

“You remember the company's name?” You shook your head. 

“No, shell company. What for? I do not know. Just know that it existed as a front for something else.” 

“I got my in. Started out not really sure of what to make of them. But, as it went on, we actually worked together well. It was -- It was like we were pieces to a puzzle.” At the pause, she seemed to almost have to catch herself.

“What happened there?” You pushed. This might’ve been it, this might be the key. 

“There was just… this guy. There was...something about him. A pull, in a way. He was like Peter, at first, then more like Miles. His name was -- his name was Grant Ward. He was -- uh….he wasn’t a good guy. I thought he was...but...” 

“I’m sorry.” You were genuine. 

Skye shook her head, “Don’t be, my friends got me out. They had my back, even when they found out why I joined.” 

She then put a pad on a table, “I’ve been using this to talk to Coulson about hte info you’ve been giving me. It’s notes, don’t worry. Just things for the mission. But...I think you’d be good at this.” 

“At what?” 

“At being an agent. Working alongside me, helping me. Just like old times.” 

Now it was your eyes that widened. 

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

“Them? You want me -- you want me to join SHIELD?” You asked, still shocked at the very thought of the offer. 

Skye scrunched her eyebrows together, “Yeah. I mean, these people you’re working for aren’t good people, Y/N.” 

“Oh, and SHIELD is?” 

“SHIELD has done some shitty things, I’ll admit. It’s not perfect. Nothing is. But, it’s trying to do good. We’re actually trying to help people. We’re making a difference.” Skye argued. 

“And I’m not?” 

“You helped people affiliated with fucking Nazi’s!” 

“When?!” You were both getting angry. 

She slammed the file down, opening it pointing at the name of one of your clients, “This. It’s a front for a Nazi organisation called HYDRA. You gave them valuable information.” 

“What information?” 

“On SHIELD agents and their locations. That thing you hacked? That thing with the back door already open? That’s a SHIELD server. You hacked a SHIELD server!” 

“I had to find you --”

“You had Peter.” 

“Had. Had is the keyword there.” That stopped her.

Miles and Skye darted dating. Nothing bad happened with her and Peter, they just realised they didn’t love each other in that way anymore. He was still a good friend to you both. 

“Skye.” Miles said as she stopped the van, “We need to get this new broadcast out.” He said. 

“I’m not leaving Y/N behind. I’m not leaving Peter behind. I’m not leaving our friends.” She said, firm toned. 

“Look, babe,” he took her hands in his own, “Just think about it, ok? You can, you know.” He was keeping it intentionally vague.

“Meanwhile, you two, you got the blowout job, right?” The ‘blowout’ job was one that had a big paycheck to it. 

Part of you should’ve known with the look Miles gave you compared to the one Skye gave you; her’s being one of concern, his being faux-concern. 

“Oh my god.” She breathed out, voice shaking, “He...he’s dead?” 

You only nodded, “I tried to find you both after, but you had both just...gone. It’s why I took off. I wanted to find you, and Miles wouldn’t take any calls or messages.” 

“He ran. He didn’t mention you when I found him, at all.” She said it all coming together for her. 

“How long is it until these guys do it to you, too?” That one stopped her cold. 

“They won’t.” She said, firm. 

“You and I both know they will. We both sold out, just in different directions. At least I’m not fooling myself.” You hated to be harsh, you hated the look of hurt on your best friend’s face. But, you had to be if she was going to see the ‘truth’. 

“I gave you up to protect you! What we did was dangerous!” She argued. 

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Skye? Now, here we you, with me in handcuffs and you playing in the very role we tried to take down. Except, this time, when it crashes and burns, it’ll be you whose left in the dirt as everyone else runs!”

“Y/N...they aren’t like that.” 

“Coulson seems the type. I mean, Miles did it, he has that same look to him.” 

“Stop --” She pleaded. 

“Did they brainwash you or something? Is that why you’re staying? Skye, I just want to know why. I wanna help you get out.” You were desperate for her to see that it was the whole reason for this. 

She leant forward, meeting you in your own movement forward, she had tears in her eyes, “They aren’t like Miles, they aren’t like the nun’s at the orphanage. These are good people, Y/N. They said they’d stay and they stayed. I betrayed them by joining with the intention of taking them down, and they let me stay. I get the hate we used to have for --”

“We? No, just me, Skye. You gave that anarchistic side when you sided with them. Skye, I’m trying to help you out here --”

“And I’m trying to make sure you get out of this without anything bad happening to you.” 

“And you think working with a bunch of suits will fix it?” 

“You think helping a bunch of Nazi’s kill a bunch of people that want to help is good?” 

“Better than selling your soul and your friends, Skye.” 

She stood up, not giving a response. If anything, the slamming off the door was the response.

You may have just lost your best friend. Your best friend in the whole world; someone who was akin to a sister figure for you. Someone who was loyal, and was. Someone like Peter. 

Someone like --

“I’m gonna unlock your cuffs. We’ve gotten the info we needed. Thank you for that.” Coulson said over the comm in the cell, his voice echoing all around it. 

“Sure. Anything for the greater good, right?” There was a sarcastic bite to your words. 

“For once? That’s true. We’ll take it and go after the funders. Any intel we can get is useful on them. I’m just sorry that this one came at a cost.” He sounded like he meant it. 

Then again, Miles also managed to fool you with that one. 

“Skye ever tell you about Peter?” You asked, out loud. 

“No.” Was the response from Coulson.

“That was our last gig together; going in for that one last big gig before we’d all run off together. Plan was to start again, buy ourselves a good home and live there, doing what we could for people in need. Then again, some of those people are the same as those at the top, just money hungry. Miles was one of them. And I -- I didn’t see it sooner.”  You had no idea why you were confessing to this man who you had only seen once. 

Maybe it was the fact that Skye trusted him, looked up to him. 

“I get it,” He said, “I get why you’re cautious. I get why you’re defensive of yourself and her. This worlds a scary place, filled with scary people --”

“I’m not six. Plus, Skye can take care of herself. Guess it’s just....” You paused. Coulson didn’t interrupt the whole time, “It was the way we worked, you know? Just us. Just us and the rising tide, doing the podcast and letting the world know about the truth.” 

“SHIELD has skeletons in it’s past, I won’t deny that. We’ve done things; covered up things and done even worse things. We aren’t clean. But, that was old SHIELD, this is the new SHIELD.” 

“Miles set us up” You admitted, “He sold Peter and me out, then Skye went into SHIELD. I don’t think he planned for her to go in as early, but there were always talks of it. Jesus, that fucker.” 

“How long were you on your own for?” Coulson asked. 

“Three years. Spent it finding any scrap I could on Skye. Then it led me here, with some dead agents on my hands.” 

“They made it out. We managed to warn them just in time. None of them know it’s you. Skye didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. She cares about you.” 

“Like you do with her.” You admitted. A DING! Occurred, and your cuffs unlocked. You scoffed as you rubbed your hands, “Might not have the deepest sympathies for you guys, but you do care about her, that means something. You’ve kept her alive so far.” 

“You did good yourself. Hard to track down. If only you hadn’t gone into that SHIELD server.” There was a hint of humour in his voice. 

You looked at the file she had made on you. Taking it, you opened it up. It was like a biography, with everyone she had known about you. She also had been able to find out some of the jobs you did. 

“You know I’m still pissed she sold me out, right?” You asked.

“That’s understandable.” Coulson said.

“Call her back in, think I’ve got something for her.” 

The door opened, with Skye walking back in. She took a seat at the table. You sat with your arms in front of you, “You ready, little sibling?” She asked, this time with what - almost - sounded like hope in her voice. 

“Ready.” 

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

You were taken out of your cell, looking around at the area. What you saw was people at work, some mainly in a lab. Skye just kept her eyes forward, leading you into a living area. 

In it, was Coulson and a woman around his age, “Y/N, this is May. She’s like the second in command here, just like you were for when we were in the tide.” Skye nudged you. 

You looked at her and scoffed, “I’m not fully a part of this ragtag group yet, Skye.” 

“Are you trying to do the right thing for the right reasons?” May asked you. 

“Depends on your definition of it.” You challenged. 

“Fight for the innocent.” She boiled it down to. 

You looked at your best friend before back to the others, “Yeah.” 

May nodded, sliding a laptop to the end of the table, “Use that, find us something, we’ll get geared up.” She said, walking passed you. However, as Coulson did, he gave your shoulder a pat in both a ‘thanks’, but also a ‘welcome to the team’. 

You looked at your sister figure, she shrugged, “Welcome to SHIELD.” 

You both went to the laptops, you went back to the message that got you into this in the first place. You traced it, finding a place that was abandoned. You zoomed in, giving the location to them. 

They flew there, with Skye leaving. However, before she did, she gave you a hug before she left. 

“Ok, Y/N, we’re here.” She said over the comms. You had live footage of the area. 

“Ok, the signal goes here. Just...be careful.” Was all you asked of her. 

“Of course.” She assured you, before going in. 

You had two newcomers enter the room, two british people; a man and a woman. 

“Oh, you must be Y/N. Nice to meet you, even if not under the best of circumstances. I’m Jemma.” She said, holding her hand. 

You shook it, before holding it out for the other guy, “Fitz.” He answered the silent question. 

“Is that them?” Jemma asked, taking a seat on one side of you, Fitz the other, both staring at the screen. 

“Should be.” 

“Y/N, we have a problem, it’s empty. The signal just leads to a laptop.” Skye, unfortunately, had to tell you.

“...Shit.” You fell back in your chair, face in hands. 

“Pull up the original message again?” Fitz asked. You did just so, “Look at the end,” You, again, did so, “It’s an anagram. Look, if you -- Jemma, help me.” He asked of his friend. 

“Oh, I see what you mean, Fitz. Yes, if you rearrange it, you get --” She stopped, looking at you for permission. You nodded. 

She typed in the new name you had, getting a ping, “There. They’re there.” She said, pointing to the new place. 

“Guys, we got them.” You said into the comms, giving them the new location. You shared a smile with Simmons. 

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

You sat with Skye in Coulson’s office. He sat on the opposite side to the table, “Today was a success. And, I want to thank you for it, Y/N. Without that intel, we wouldn’t have found them.” He said with a smile. 

“I’m sure you would’ve.” 

“They’re just being modest. We appreciate it, Y/N. Really, you came through in the end.” Skye said, putting you on the shoulder. 

“Y/N, we’d like to offer you a place here. I understand you don’t agree with everything, and that’s fine. To be honest, I think we need that, now more than ever. It’ll be safer here, you’ll have company and you can do some good as you’ve always wanted to.” Coulson offered. 

“Plus, we can work together again. I mean, I’ll be out there sometimes. But...I missed my best friend.” Skye said, sincerely. 

You thought about it, the two just waiting for the answer. 

You finally looked up;

“Ok.” 

[tillman]

wait, if it ISN'T a love potion, what exactly is it?

in gottfried specifically its pretty explicitly just a potion to.. heighten feelings that are already there i guess? its an intensity potion if that makes sense. 

tristan and isolde were already in love before they drank it, they already HAD those feelings for each other the potion is just the thing that pushes them over the edge to the point they physically can not stand to be apart any longer. Isolde already was show to be willing to kill people, the potion just pushes her over the edge to actually having a murder carried out (even if its stopped in the end outside of her control and shes glad for it), tristan is already a very devoted and loyal person, but the potion makes him physically unable to deny isolde that devotion. its all stuff thats already true to their characters its just more pronounced.

i think thats my issue with the tristrant thing in that tristan then is . completely willing to give up his life with isolde in the woods when that runs counter to his entire being. tristan wouldnt have given her up willingly and isolde would never have agreed to go back to mark because they do truly love each other without the potion. see the prose tristan spin offs all having them so deeply in love CHAPTERS before the potion comes into play (a lot of the time the galehaut excursion happens before the potion comes into play which is really interesting and shows how devoted tristan is to isolde long before hes forced into that.) 

like hte potion doesnt MAKE them do shit. it just helps them confess. 

this is even true in sir tristrem which. like. its a parody right. please tell me sir tristrem is a comedy. it has to be. anyways when the potions vapors get into the air and infect corvenal and brangane, they dont fall in love with each other or the pair, they just are even more devoted to them (WHICH IS A FORM OF LOVE YEA but i would hesitate to call that an effect of a Love Potion). also isoldes dog becomes their good companion. its a weird scene sir tristrem is so fucking weird

anyways i just truly do not think its a love potion in the traditional sense at least seen in other arthurian tales. tehres no manipulation involved, theres no forcing one party to love another, it just kinda makes what was already there a physical TRUTH to life which . fits well in the story :-) 

[unlockthelore]

Tiny Light

This prompt for hananeneweek20 is Role Reversal AU!

It’d been a month since Amane met the ghost haunting the boy’s bathroom on the third floor of the old school building. Hanako-san hadn’t been what he expected in the slightest, in fact, she was possibly the most human ghost that he’d ever met. And that was saying something. Seeing her around school, whispering to him during his classes, dragging him into one supernatural debacle to the next — it colored his school life with emotions that he didn’t think possible.

 She didn’t mind listening to him talk about science, the earth and the celestial bodies that filled the heavens. Their talks lasting well into the afternoon where his brother would come calling after him that it was time to go home and that he should stop talking to himself on the roof. Of course, Tsukasa couldn’t see her but Hanako-san didn’t seem to mind. 

She was happy enough talking to Amane and somehow, that both made him happy and sad. Seeing her waving goodbye from the school gates as Tsukasa dragged him off to catch the next trolley car, his touch warm where Hanako-san’s was cold as her fingers left the crook of Amane’s elbow as he was pulled away. The imprint lasting well after he was in his pajamas, warm from the bath, and listening to his brother’s raucous snoring on the other side of the room. 

Gazing up at the moon from his window, the silver reminding him of her ashen hair and that somewhere she was looking up at the same sky from her perch on that window ledge of the bathroom. She granted his wish. To not have to go anywhere, to find happiness where he was, and each day was better than the last. 

She had given him so much despite her somewhat zany way of being and asked for little in return but his labor. Cleaning bathrooms every so often was worth the adventures and hearing her laughter, her smile, her way of fawning over his classmates and teasing about potential crushes of his own. But for everything that she’d given him, what did he give her in return?

When there was a fight, she had to rescue him.

When his friends were taken past the Boundary, she promised to bring them back.

When he stumbled upon one supernatural wonder after another, she was there to keep him from going too far.

Seeing her beaten and bruised, her black dress torn and hat lopsided, giving him warm tight smiles or laughing it off was too much. There had to be something. Something that he could do for her for all that she’d given him — but nothing felt like enough.

He started calling her Hanako-chan to show that they were friends.

Asking her to confide in him when the weight of the world was too much for her.

Helped with her gardening and grew flowers to see the light in her ruby irises shine.

So often were they dull as she confronted her duties. Tsuchigomori-sensei casting a wayward glance at her as she brushed by him while they were conducting lessons. Yako batting at her hand when she attempted to pet her then bowing her head when she rested her hand between her ears. It was as if she were holding this great sadness and when he caught a glimpse of it, it was gone.

And there was little he could do.

“Neh, Hanako-chan?” Amane asked tentatively, looking up from the polished hardwood floors as the procession of Mokke made their way to the window ledge handing her rows of candy. She was triumphant with a haughty grin on her face, taking the candy with a nod, one of her hands holding a deck of cards. He smiled exasperatedly. They must have been gambling again.

Once her candy was collected and the Mokke left swearing vengeance upon her, she looked at him and smiled. “Hm? Done already?”

He wanted to point out that there wasn’t much to clean. No one really used this bathroom because they were afraid of her rumor and the few that dared to enter were quickly warded off by the Mokke making noise and mischief. The thought crossing his mind of how lonely it must be for her to not have anyone even attempt to summon her or interact with her. Even as a joke. 

“A lot of people come and ask you for wishes, right?” 

Her ruby eyes narrowed and Amane quickly questioned his wording until he heard the tell-tale lilting hum. A familiar sound when she neither confirmed or denied one of his questions. Both comforting and foreboding. 

“And you take things in exchange but that’s just your job..” His voice trailed off as she arched a brow, and he quickly added. “Part of your rumor, I mean…”

One of her hakujoudai floated closer and she set the deck of cards atop of it to be carried away, keeping his gaze all the while. Her own searching his eyes as if she could glean his secrets with a glance. Amane gulped, gripping the handle of his mop until the palm of his hands were burning. It was moments like this that he remembered that she wasn’t someone around his age. She was much older, wiser, and likely dangerous —

But he liked her anyway.

He told her that he liked her anyway.

Hanako stayed silent as she studied him and it was bothering him more and more. Glancing down at his feet, Amane wetted his lips then looked up to meet her eyes.

“Do you ever take anything that you actually want?” He asked, wringing the mop’s handle between his hands.

Hanako hummed softly, the corner of her lips curving into that smile that made his stomach do backflips and his face burn. “Well, just recently I did…” She said cheerily, resting her cheek in her hand, her eyes seeming to glow.

Remembering the classroom, her fingers interlaced with his own, cold seeping into his palms but her smile made him feel warm. “I’m not talking about that…” Amane grumbled, loosening his hold on the mop, letting it fall from his hand and clatter against the wall nearest to the mirror. His hands swinging uselessly by his sides, fingers pressing against the seam of his pants before curling into fists. 

“Come on… we’re friends, right..?” He felt his cheeks burning as the courage welled up inside of him was steadily draining. Communicating his thoughts like this was difficult but she never seemed to hear him unless he spoke outright. “If there’s something that you want then I’ll do my best to give it to you.”

“Something that I want…”

Amane gasped, his shoulders hiking and heart leaping into his throat at the soft whisperb behind him. Cold fingers dancing across his shoulder, the chill felt through his clothes as her fingers traced along his neck, playing with the choppy ends of his hair. Slowly turning his head, his eyes widened. He hadn’t realized in his nervousness that Hanako had gotten close enough to look at him cheek to cheek and eye to eye. 

“Does that mean anything?” She asked softly in a low whisper, and Amane blushed profusely, stumbling backward. His foot catching against the bucket and the water sloshed around as he hunkered closer to the wall, his heart pounding.

Hanako giggled, clasping her hands behind his back. “Just kidding,” she called, stepping closer to him and reaching out to tap her finger against his cheek. Her touch cool against his heated skin and between the wall at his back and her smiling at him — there was nowhere to go. “You’re adorable, Amane.”

It was easy to forget that she was a ghost. Someone who was long dead and could have been playing with him just as much as she was serious. When she said his name like that, as if he were the most precious thing in the world, as if it were velvet on her tongue — it made him tremble inside. 

Her light poke to his cheek shifted to a caress, her palm resting against his cheek and thumb lightly stroke beneath his eye. 

“Just stay by my side and I won’t want anything else,” Hanako muttered, her voice barely a whisper on the wind as if she were imparting a secret to him as she leant closer. The half-lidded ruby eyes closing as she gave him a wide smile. A flicker of pain that he nearly caught quickly covered from view. “Okay?”

For a moment, he was stunned into silence.

For a moment, he wanted to ask her why she looked pained.

But he was bitterly reminded of that day beneath the “confession tree” where she held his face like this and asked him to go out with her. He wholeheartedly felt like agreeing but she urged him to say no, mouthing the words to him then giving him a smile. He hated her knowing smile when he turned away from her with a flushed face. Or the sorrowful look she wore when she apologized.

Of course he forgave her but he was disappointed. Although he tried hard not to think of why. 

“Another fake confession?” Amane huffed, brushing her hand away by the wrist when her fingers curled around his own. It was blistering cold the closer she got to him but he was captivated by ruby eyes. Her wide smile smaller, shyer, and she almost resembled a normal girl. 

“What do you mean, it’s my request…” She held his hand between her own, smiling up at him with softened eyes. His heartbeat picking up at the sight. “You wouldn’t deny me, right?”

The first word on his lips was ‘no’. She had given so much to him and although she didn’t ask for much in return, he was indebted to her. He wanted to help her as much as possible until their contract came to an end. And even then, he didn’t want it to end. Distantly, he wondered if Hanako wanted it to end either. Seizing the opportunity to hold her hand, he curled his fingers around hers.

“I guess not,” Amane said flippantly, hiking his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug as he stepped forward, lifting their clasped hands to where his own lips were covered. His eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her. “Even with your ankles, I still like you.”

It was worth it to see the scarlet stain her cheeks at hte compliment before his words sank in and her eyes narrowed at him. 

“Hey.. What do you mean by even with my ankles?” She asked with a glare, yanking him forward until they were toe to toe. 

“Nothing, nothing!” He replied with a laugh, spying the slight twitch in her lips as she fought down a smile. He wasn’t sure why she was so sensitive about her ankles. Perhaps it was something from when she was alive. But he thought that she was pretty no matter what. 

Dismissing the thoughts with a sharp shake of the head, he ignored her curious stare, scratching at his cheek as he looked aside. “Your request, I wouldn’t mind fulfilling it,” he said, feeling more clear-headed than before. He winked at her and grinned. “Because I’m a human that grants the wishes of ghosts.”

Her eyes widened and she stared at him. Did he say something wrong? A myriad of emotions displayed in her eyes and he felt as if he treaded on something unspoken. Grounds that she wasn’t comfortable with. Despite knowing that she could slip from his grasp, he held her hand tighter. Wanting to comfort. Wanting her not to leave. To pull away when they were this close.

Hanako sighed, averting her gaze with a shake of the head. “You’ve been spending too much time with Tsukasa.”

Whatever tension that was filling the air had been broken for the time being and though he didn’t want to let it go, she didn’t move away. And for that reason, he was content to let it go for now.

“Well, we are brothers..”

“Yes, you are…” Hanako sighed. The evening sunlight washing over her and warming her features to where she almost seemed human. “Brothers that get along well.” She squeezed his hand and her smile tightened at the corners.  “And I hope that you always will be.”

He wanted to do the most that he could for her but he wondered how far had she gone for him? And why did she look so sad? 

[goldtips]

okay so ya girl is back at it again. this was originally going to be a reply to someone but well. it got out of hand. i shat all over babylon the anime a while ago and honestly kind of feel bad. there are definitely things that the show does that makes it stand out, esp as a seasonal anime bc you dont expect dir. to spend much time on them!!!! like if we’re comparing this to shows like fanservice anime or any .. mediocre seasonal isekai then ofc this show is better lmfao. the only reason i shit on it is because i expected this anime to be Better ;;;;;;;

mind, i’m not rescinding my statement - as far as i’m concerned, babylon is still a hella frustrating anime because it tries to showcase humans as nihilistic, utilitarian robots that don’t seem to consider the topic of suicide emotionally even though thats supposedly humanity’s defining trait ??? and it deals with the topic of suicide with the care of elephants gallivanting in the fucking savanna :))) the whole show has also been pretty lacklustre in terms of characterization, trying way too hard to be intellectual and feed edgy plot points instead of giving any development - the plot feels reactionary overall and placid rather than exciting. also, the fact that the anime started as a mystery / politico-legal sort of show just makes the transition from that to abstract theory even more forced...........

HOWEVER im promised im going to stop shitting on babylon so lets talk about what the anime does right shall we. more specifically,,, the biblical imagery!!! is great !!!! : D

the show is called babylon. in the old testament (ot), babylon is humanized as a “brutal, callous and proud” woman who “believed that she would reign over the earth forever.” in the new testatment the phrase “she who is at babylon” refers to the new world culture currently at war with the covenant community. in such that rome, as a mistress or whore of the new world, is seeking to seduce and subvert people of god, enticing men to fall “drunk with the wine of her fornication.”

yes,,,, a whore who uses sex to entice innocent men into complying with new culture? who believes herself to be akin to god and also in this context, above the law and morality - im gonna say its not too far a stretch to say that magase was intended to symbolise the whore of babylon.

however, that’s not all - links can be made between the enactment of the suicide laws and the seduction of new culture. who exactly is leading the front? kaika itsuki ( 齋 開化 ), who’s name literally means culture. that aint a coincidence. also, that weirdly-placed reference to roman law / norms during the suicide debate as a way to convince the masses to revert / adopt roman ideology??? also not a coincidence. :))))

in addition, there are two other major biblical events related to babylon:

the book of revelations; and

the tower of babel.

its safe to say that both narratives are being pushed atm.

revelations:

in revelation 17, the spirit of babylon decends upon earth through the whore. she arrives on the back of a beast with 7 heads, “arrayed in purple and scarlet”, “drunk with the blood of the saints, the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.” “seven heads are seven mountains, on which the woman sitteth.” the revelations also prophesizes that she will be defeated by a beast, but it is unclear as to which. there are two beasts in book of revelations. the first beast comes "out of the sea" given authority and power by the dragon/serpent. the second beast comes "out of the earth" directing people to worship the first beast, a "false prophet".

in a similar vein, nomaru had secretly vouched for itsuki’s, providing itsuki with the necessary resources for him to rise up in ranks and become the new mayor. the kanji for ryuichiro nomaru ( 野丸 龍一郎 ) contains both the kanji 野 and 龙 which respectively mean field (i.e. earth) and dragon. they are key references to the beasts of revelation

plus according to nomaru, it was also purely because of magase that the political struggle turned out the way that it did, meaning that she is ultimately the one controlling the entire operation. this mirrors the way she is sitting on the heads of the beast (i.e. the proverbial brains of the campaign that itsuki is heading) 

we also see that when magase uses her powers her eyes and hair glow in a sort of purple/burgundy color to support the imagery as well! 

the book of revelations is the final chapter of nt. it is merely an allegory of struggle between good and evil and doesnt refer to actual people or events. kinda like the show huh. nyyy way, we see that the protag john the apostle writes down what is revealed to him through visions to send it to the 7 churches :))

kinda like how zen keeps on seeing magase through visions and has to document !! his findings and report back to admin? ik this isnt exact but there’s a bit where he has to write down her confession and it really struck me as weird until this bit popped up, maybe that was included to as a way of tying in :))

tower:

according to the myth, there were plans to build a city and tower high enough to reach heaven - god who observes this confounds their speech so that they can no longer understand each other. why? because “now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do.”

while not entirely similar, we see recurring themes in babylon that deal with miscommunication and new ideology. the conflict mirrors the myth in that unity of language (or ideology in this case) and its subsequent discordance once differentiated. 

the interrogation scene in ep 4 deals with reconciling differences. magase asks whether those with different values should be accepted, despite them being contrary to norm. all this time, society has been developing an ideal set of norms - the entire country shares the same values and priorities with no deviation. growth has stagnated. in similar fashion to how god commands for many languages to be created, magase sows the seeds of doubt towards long-standing assumptions and moral values in order to create discordance and push japan into a state of new development

in the new campaign, itsuki proposes to apportion shiniki city from japan and instill new values. this confounds the population and sends them into disarray - the tower that they have created is crumbling, in similar likeness to the parable of babel.

SO TL;DR this show has a really cool starting concept i cant lie?????  i for one am not shitting on its supernatural elements (even though the flow was a little inorganic) in hindsight there’s no point in expecting a show called babylon not to delve into supernatural/biblical elements lol :)))

as a right hoe for imagery and philosophy/ethics, this gave me high hopes but the execution of everything else was way below average. why bring in a discussion about suicide that’s poorly researched + try to be edgy abt it and have the citizens to have support it so easily???? ruins the immersion so much

if the anime really wanted to focus on philosophy there should be some mention of ethical theory to justify his point. like, being aimlessly philosophical only ends up being flowery and pseudo-bullshit lmao. one of hte reasons why i was so frustrated with magase and zen’s discussion in the interrogation room. like woman what was your fucking point. its only wasting screentime if you don’t get anything from the conversation. the philosophy was so fucking unnecessary - babylon could have been executed as an in-depth political/psychological anime instead. WITHOUT THE SUICIDE.

this and the lack of good characters really bummed me out. i think that the show was expecting me to connect to some of the characters before they were fucking killed off but i didn’t end up giving a single shit about any of them so. :) the whole show feels more about the shock factor and gore than about interesting plot.

concept 10/10, execution 1/10

[mingi-bubu]

Watch “Youth With You” with Me!

Episode 2

and we are back with episode 2!!!

i have my water, i have my ramen, my phone is plugged in, and there is a box of tissues within reach

as marvelous mr mark lee would say, lezgeddit

again i think its so funny hes not even in my bias line but i love him anyway aldskfjas;d

oh that’s an uncomvy way to start out

ok now yixing is talking about what they need from the trainees to become good idols

i love that they’re playing cherry bomb in the background ngl it’s really funny

oh we really are gonna replay zhang pd’s whole rap speech arent we

oh my god the guy in the background looked like yangyang im quaking

oh booo i want to know more about the planet/moon mascot

i want to have the ultimate trio of good round boys if xukun’s run has a round lil dude as well

in this house we stan round lil dudes

ok back to the action

this episode is 2 hours fukc that

alsdfkjaslkdf the mentors telling yixing to chillax love to see it

this guy’s outfit is uh.........interesting

kinda baggy

akdfaksdjf chen sijian trying desperately to save his ass after yixing’s speech about rap i love to see ti

wow csj has a lot of range in what he wants to be able to perform

i lowkey vibe with his song so far

he dances like i do alkdfjaslkdj

hes good tho

that move looked xukun-esque

i really do like this song actually

he looks like he’s about to start crying which is mood

that was v good

i hope A but probably B

laskdfjds i love yixing feeling like he has to clarify everything i lvoe to see it

alkdfjasdlkf i love this kid hahaaha he’s hilarious

he got a B

i called it

omg his lil run!!!! i love himmmm

the question i still dont know the answer to yet is why the senior seniors are also here?

and im too lazy to McGoogle it

AHHHHH SHENSHEN’S GROUP!

black pearl himself i love h im

shi mingze!!!

shi zhan i sure hope that the “naughty” translation means he’s like a prank playing bastard and not a regular one UwU

imma be real with y’all even if i didn’t know unine i still think i would’ve loved shenshen and rooted for him

like if i were to go back in time and be watching it live like i am with this season

i think i still wouldve supported him

im excited for their performance

i say as if i havent also watched a fair few times

a;iodsfiadosfu hhx saying that he looks like his uncle made me choke on my veggies

i deffo think that mingze wouldve been my second tho

that man has charisma for days

hey in case you guys forgot

they are

they are bg project

my boys got D

but at least they’re all together

class D is gonna be jam packed on god

given that they only practiced the dance for a week im v proud of them for D

man just dead dropped into the splits i hate to see it

theyre just little boys

ajdfksald; “they call me hanhan but there’s a lot of trainees here with the character han so you can call me xu”

babyyyyy

i love thier matching hoodies

;aksdfjaskd to say nonstandard mandarin im weak

asdfjasd dragged by his hair im so weak

alsdkfjasldkf meeee tooo xu

i too would confess my love for yixing if given half a chance

i love their lil kickies its so cute

xu has a good voice

this song is so fun!!!

it gives me like 70s vibes i lvoe to see it

kdsfja;lskdfj xu baby boy is so cute

alsdjfsa hes just a little boy

i love him omg

yixing’s laugh i :3c

shit hes so cool

i havent seen the dance in it’s fullest before this so it’s super cool

im not married yet but xu i sure could be

i know i know the decisions of the duo’s rankings but i can’t remember

anyway i also stan xu

oh that’s right

f

i cant wait to see how they grow!!!

MINGMING TURNA FLAKSDJF;LAKSDJF;LAKJFOIWE MINGMING

YAO MIGNMING THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

HIS LIL UNEVE TOOTH SMILE I LVOE HIM SO MCUHG

SIX YEARS I LOVE YOU

MINGMING IS SO CUTE I LOVE ONE (1) MAN SO MUCH

i love how excited jiayi is for mingming’s dance

damn that’s some chroeo right htere boys

its so weird to see mingming here vs houw i see him dance later

like theres a different sort of confidence he has later after his talk with yixing

they’re both a lil outta breath but yechen seems to handle it better

i think ymm is too focused on dance

but it’s his speciality so who cares

mingming looks so cute

i hate how mingming was very not like idk confident in himself in certain aspects

i mean like i understand why but it still makes me sad

mingming got a c

yechen got a d

yechennie no baby its not yourf ault that he got the grade he did

i; just want to give these boys hugs

i am going to cry bc mingming looks like hes about to cry

is this deep voice boyo

it is deep voice boyo

i call him boyo but he graduated with a degree in biomed

that octave change thooooo

i liked it a lot

bass boy got a grade of C

i love that yao chi and jiayi are so expressive that everytime the mentors give a grade the camera immediately cuts to them

core one

huaiwei is such a sweetie i love  him

alsdkfasld xixi and jiayi

didnt the go to the same college??  i recall seeing grad pictures of them together

dorks i lvoe them

jkasdjflsd yao chi aka yao wow wow

i love him so mcuh hes so cuteeee

asdklfsadklf the facemasks im scraming

what the fuck kind of christmas songs occur in china to have it be the first thought at the sound of “mai rui” (merry)

awww they’re performing one of their senior’s songs that is so cute

BITCH WITH THE ACCAPELLA I AM SCREASCHING

XIANGHENG DAMN BOY

THE FUCKING TRILLS I

THE HARMONIES

OH MY GOD

YAO CHI YOUR VOICE BABY BOY

THE HIGH NOTES

oooh they lost the magic about halfway thru

yaochi is my favorite hype boy

KKKKKDADLKFAJSDHIS VOICE SIR MY RING IS READY AND I AM DOWN ON ONE KNEE

HES SOCUTTEEEE

ooh b to xiangheng

yaochi got a c!!!

and changhua!!!

d goes to beret boy

kaksdfjasd cast planet!!!

guan yue!!!!!

alksdfasldk yao chiiii

this definitely had to have come out of the 70s or 80s

guan yue has such a contagious smile1!!

this is so fun

everyone is dancing

except yixing who looks dead inside alkdfjlskd

hes so cute i love guan yue!!!!

awww jolin likes himmmm

fuck yixing really said no one gets an a today didnt he

guan yue got a b

his partner got a d

YUEHUERA LEETS HEEAR IT FOR THE BOYS

HANHANHANAHANAHANAAHDSFAHSD;KFJ IEWE

IMV ERY EXCITED

alsdkfsdj yangyang not bowing at the same time sent me

the younger brothers bullying hanhan we love to see it

a;ldskfjaskdljf stop bullying the baby hanhan

im so excited for this one ive watched it so many times

i feel so bad constantly for the uniq members bc their company really said you can go fuck yourselves we only want you in film not music

also we are a little like very little over halfway thru the ep

i am not going to cry at yixing clapping and getting everyone else to

OOOOOHHHHH OOOOOOOOHH

YEAH YOU’D BETTER RUN AWAY GIRL

I LOVE MONSTER SO MUCH GUYS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

LIKE A MONSTER 

A BASTARD

GUI ZE

GOD THIS SONG IS SO FUCKIGN GOOD IF YOU HAVENT LISTENED TO IT GO AND STREAM INT BPLEASE

WENXUAN HITTING NOTES I CANT WE LOVE TO SEE IT

GOD IT’S LIKE A FULL ASS CONCERT RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD

WITH THE MF ROSE PETALS YES YOUNG KINGS

YAOCHIIII WAS SO EXCITED

i dont think they get an a tho

alfkjasdlkfjasklfjd yangyang avoiding doing rap was so cute

that’s right he ends up with a b i think bc of how he sings

i love wenhan’s voice

also this song is so 

its gonna make me cry im glad lrh said you can stop now

damn there really were no A’s in the initial rankings are there

oooohhh it’s vogue 5 from earlier with the muncher

awww yc is so hype its cute

ohhh slick with the mf drum stick catch

asldjfalskdjfkdsljf li wenhan’s face im dead

they all get c

ahhh chen youwei’s turn!!

mr 5th prince himself

hes so noodley

hes literally legs, arms, and torso

that’s it

al;sdkfjal;s he got an F what

ok then

oh gramarie

hmmm  i didn’t like it as much

the final grade was 2 d’s and 2 f’s

i hate that the 3 color boys dabbed

hanyu’s group anyways that’s who they were

asfdalskdfjasl;kdfj the accent group showed up

i love these guys theyre so funny

montage happening of different performances

 the grades were between c-f

no a

ok but you had like several candiates for that ranking but fuck us i guess

i love yixing tho he wants the best for these boys

i am not tearing up that is a false narrative

mr zhang yixing my ring is ready and i am down on one knee just say the word sir

d class is Full

like they really put a lot of trainees there

ok!!!  first task is, of course, the show’s theme song

the stage is so fucking cool guys i love it

i love the amount of bucket hats im seeing from the boys in the training previews adklfjasd

oooh it’s move in time

someone has a giant carrot and another guy has an elmo i love this

lol no elevators adfjasldf

asfsadkfjalksdf shenshen and mingze i love it

i didn’t know jiayi and guan yue were roommate

awww jiayi’s grandmothers lil knitted thing thats so cute

alkdfad hanhan straightaway bullying hanyu adkfjskdj

huaiwei and wang jiayi are roommates i

love to see it

wait how did mingze style his hair???

it took minghao 5 hours to learn the theme dance

i hate it

love the romantic music they put over minghao when he first appeared

i got distracted by minghao teaching the trainees but minghao is teaching the trainees

hes so cuteeee

he got all flustered when they clapped to thank him

class d really do got those steps in eh?

li chengyang got scared by the class above them aldkfjads babie

im not crying over wang jiayi staying so late and jiayi helping him and then minghao showing up to help him im not

i am

oh god my tears are still salty and hurty

im am crying over the ninceness that minghao his showing

not me being viciously reminded that the mentors here really do want to see the trainees succeed in their endeavors

alkdjflasdkfj his lil heart thing thats so cute

ok the next episode preview is about continuing the practice for the theme song stage, reranking, and they hint at the first stages that the trainees will go thru

and the episode ends with  the theme song performance

aksdfjasldk xixi’s tie ends up over his shoulder at one point adkfa

i love the wave motion in their choreo

i know i said this before probably

but it’s really cute and who doesn’t love a good tie moment

i hate the piano at the end tho bc it makes me want to cry for some reason

like it reminds me a lil bit of the npc run theme and how they played it at the end when the last x amount of trainees were seeing videos from their family and friends

or manybe im making things up idk its like 1:30 in the morning rn

i also just realized i was cheated out of seeing love shot which

rude

but ok then

anywayy

im tired and will probably spend a good chunk of tomorrow either catching up to @baobeejun or working on the xunario

have a good rest of your day wherever you are

stay safe !  stay healthy!

see you next time <3333

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

1/Hi! Class anon here again- beware because this got really long! I thought it would be good to give you a little bit of context: I am from a small country in Latinoamerica, with heavy european influence (especially from Spain and Italy) and almost non native people. As we are small and with a small population, everything is expensive here - food, utilities, commodities, rent, etc (in that topic, I was just reading an article about how my city is in the top 3 of most expensive cities in LatAm)

2/ I've never been to London, but from what I've read/heard it's quite comparable in terms of relation between wages/cost of living.  This intro was to place you in my context to answer your phone question. It is the same here, regarding credit or paying as part of their plan/paying it in full at once. Credit plans always have existed, but 10 or 15 years ago it was downright impossible for a working class person to have an iPhone, even if they paid them with a plan.

3/ A flashy phone? Sure. An iPhone? Impossible, because here is more expensive than the rest of the world. (To compare; an iPhone that would cost USD 600 in the US or USD 700 in Hong Kong here it's around USD 900 more or less - I put these places as examples bcause is where I've bought iPhones before, I don't know the ratio between UK/US iPhone costs).

4/ This is very simply because of offer and demand: as there's not that many people here, everything is more expensive than other places, including other LatAm countries (when there are not economic crisis in the region - which is saying something because there's always one going on here in one country or another - food in Argentina or Brasil is probably 5 times cheaper than here, easily) and also because the ratio dollar/my currency is very volatile, more now than ever.

5/ You said "on an individual level access to certain sorts ofmaterial resources and experiences isn’t necessarily a class signifier" in the UK, and I think that's a key point to understand the difference between our class systems. Because of that volatile ratio between currencies, individual access to material resources that are very much measured in dollars (every major thing here is paid in dollars- houses, cars, holidays) are a class signifier

6/ because if you are able to buy an iPhone that means that a) you are well enough to spend more than a minimum monthly wage on a phone, be it in full or with a plan or b) you are able to save, whatever money you can, and saving in an economy like ours is quite difficult. And here plays what I said before about the "upper" working class concept, which is perceived as middle class.

7/ In the last 15 years the middle class here grew a lot, accompanied by a growth in consumer power, and lots of people were able to afford an iPhone (or any other flash phone), go on holidays, etc (of course there's people who can't afford it, after all capitalism still needs poor people to function, and of course the type and frequency of holiday play a role in the class system: for example holydays on the caribbean became quite accessible lately,

8/ but going to Europe is as expensive as ever, therefore something reserved for the wealthy, which makes a very particular point towards the current coronavirus situation, and how in LatAm translated into a class issue, but that's a topic for another ask),and those individual class signifiers changed the perception of the working class: as more people were able to afford things considered leisure, the working class got divided into this upper and lower working class, and friction have grown too

9/ Now we are facing the worst economic crisis since the 2002, and everyone is starting to realise that, after all, we are all tied to the will of those who control the economy. Now when it comes to 1D members, I don't actually know who was able to afford overseas holidays, I only talked about Harry and Louis because they have publicly talked about summers on France and a trip to Disneyland (I confess that after 7 years in the fandom, I still can't understand the need to know every little detail

10/ about their lives, past and present. The scrutiny really baffles me). I also think Harry’sclass position was different from the rest, but I realise now that it was more form my own experience and parameters, and not judging from what the UK class system (although I wanna be cheeky and say that I was perceiving things right, regardless of the specific understandment of the UK class system 😉).

11/ Actually not being able to access leisure activities it's not something I think really marked me growing up, simply because I grew up surrounded by people that were the same as me so never felt like I was missing on anything (although yes I may have sulked a little when I was a teen because I couldn't afford certain phone, not even an iPhone).

12 and last! / I think I will probably miss it more now that I won't be able to go on holiday without spending all my savings, but everything passes and this too shall pass. It's just a matter of adjustment until then! Last thing (this got really long, I wasn't expecting it) I am the same anon as the unemployment insurance one. Nothing in particular about the clarification, only that I thought it wasn't fair you were thinking you were talking to two different persons.

******

Thanks so much for coming back with your thoughts anon.  I found them really interesting and loved learning about your country.  So much of what you said reminded me of New Zealand, although New Zealand is a richer country, but the way that distance and a small economy does affect what resources people have access to (Lots of things are super expensive in NZ too)

I think in a lot of ways what you are picking up is the difference between being working-class in a richer country or a poorer country. And I think the way that certain consumer goods are understood are pretty key to that.  One of the reasons that I bristle a bit when people take having some quite basic and wildly available things, such as a flat screen TV, or an iphone, is that in richer countries that’s quite a common way to dimiss working-class people and their concerns.  You can’t really be working-class/exploited you have an overseas holiday/fancy phone (or smart phone at all) is a classic right-wing talking point here.  Middle-class poeple (and certainly capitalist/ruling class etc) are still more likely to have these things, and have more of them, but that doesn’t mean that working-class people don’t have access to them.

I thought what you said about wider access to leisure marking a distinction between different parts of the working-class was super interesting.  I think that sort of granular division does happen in hte UK, but it is quite complicated and you have to be part of communities to understand it.  

Thanks so much for your thoughts! Come back any time to talk about 1D, class, 1D and class, or anything else.

[calebyap]

Romans: The Gospel of God

Gospel Shorthand

The “gospel of God” (i) promised beforehand, (ii) about His Son, David and God’s heir, declared by the Spirit through His resurrection, (iii) of Paul’s apostleship (iv) for the obedience of faith among all the nations including you. (Rom 1:1-6)

Gospel Rationale

As the faith is spreading worldwide, Paul desires to come to Rome for ministry, but has been hindered thus far. But because of his calling to Greeks and barbarians, he wants to come to Rome. Paul’s drive is “not being ashamed of the gospel” (1:16) because it shows God’s righteousness by faith, and for faith. Why? Because God’s wrath is being revealed against all our sin: the exchange of God’s glory for created things (1:21-23). God’s response was to “give them up” to their choices (1:24-28), and His decree is that such sin deserves death (1:29-32). No one is exempt from this, not the one who judges and those who are judged, not Jew or Gentile (2:1-11). This is what it “under the law” means (2:12-16) — let’s be clear, this certainly applies to the Jews who have God’s law (2:17-29) but have not kept it in the heart. Thus the Jews have been unfaithful with the oracles of God entrusted to them, which in turn, does not nullify God’s faithfulness and righteousness (3:1-8). All have sinned, Jew and Gentile (3:9-20).

Gospel Revealed

A non-law righteousness is now available through faith in Jesus Christ (3:21-25). This justifies us, and shows forth God’s righteousness (3:26). Thus, no one can boast (3:27) because the law of faith apart from law achieves this.

Gospel According to Abraham

Abraham’s justification was also by faith (4:1-10) since he received his justification before circumcision (4:11-12). This enabled him to be “heir of the world” so that he could be father of all those in faith (4:16-17), and this is shown despite the barrenness of Sarah’s womb (5:18-23), and so that we would also have hte same faith-righteousness that he did.

Gospel Explained

Our justification by faith means we have peace with God (5:1) and through Him we have access into grace, and we can rejoice in hope, and through sufferings, since God’s love is poured into us by Spirit given to us, who uses our sufferings to produce hope (5:2-5). The love of God for sinners, weak and bad (5;8), also means we’ll be saved from His wrath (5:9) since we are reconciled to God (5:10-11). Death came through Adam to Moses in one tresspass, but life comes through Jesus Christ (5:12-18) for many trespasses a free gift of life. Where the law increased the tresspass so that sin reigns in death, grace abounds in righteousness for life through Christ (5:20).

Gospel Questions and Answers Part One

One, can we sin as much as we like then? Grace abounding does not mean that we can sin liberally (6:1-2) because Jesus died for sin, and we are united in that same death so we live a new life and we can’t relish our sin (6:4). His resurrection is also ours, and we have a new life where death and sin no longer have control so we can’t use Jesus like a tool (6:5-14), this is what it means to be under grace. We’re slaves to rightoeuensss, not sin (6:15-23). We are free from the law (7:1) since you died to the law (7:5-6)

Two, so is the law evil since it makes us sin and leads to death then? (7:7) No, we learn that the law is holy and it shows our sinful nature (7:12). No, my nature is sinful, not the law, and there is a paradox in my desires. So the law itself can’t save me. So who is going to save me from the law and this miserable life (7:24)?

Gospel Hope

Through faith in Jesus, no one can condemn us (8:1). God’s Spirit did what the law could not (8:2-3). Jesus was condemned so that the law is condemned for me in Him (8:3-4). So if you are in the flesh, you’re condemned, but if you’re in the Spirit, you have life, and He will resurrect us just like Jesus was (8:9-11). So don’t live by the flesh, but by the spirit. Put to death the deeds of the body (8:13), because you’re His sons now, and you have the Spirit of Sonship (8:16-17). This will involve our suffering which is nothing compared to what will one day be revealed - glory (8:18). Our glory, and the glory of all creation when God makes all things new (8:21-23). This is hope in His promises (8:24). When are weak, the Spirit will help us (8:26-27) and make all things work together for our good (8:28), so that we become more like Jesus (8:29-30). So then, He isn’t holding anything good back from us (8:31-32), and no one can be accused, condemned or separated from God’s love! (8:33-39).

Gospel Questions and Answers Part Two

I feel such sorrow when I think about hte unbelief of the Jews (9:1-5). So three, does their unbelief mean that God’s promises to Israel failed? No, because not all of Abraham’s children are Israel, and even in their story, God made a sovereign choice between Isaac and Ishmael, between Jacob and Esau, between Moses and Pharaoh. So no human will or exertion can make this happen, only God (9:16).

Four, then is it unfair for God to “find fault” with sinners? No it’s not unfair, because who can question God? Who can know what He knows? (9:19-29).

So whereas Gentiles obtained the faith-righteousness, Israel who pursued law-righteousness failed (9:31-32). I wish it were not so and I pray for them to be saved by submitting to God’s righteousness instead of establishing their own (10:1-3). Moses’ law righteousness seeks to work to heaven, but the gospel is near you by faith (10:5-8) so that if we confess the Lordship of Jesus and believe in is resurrection, we will be saved (9:9-10). This is why we must send, preach, so they can hear and believe (10:14-17).

Fifth, so did Israel not hear and understand? (10:16-21) No, they heard. But they were made jealous by what God did for the Gentiles instead.

Sixth, so did God reject His people? (11:1) No, God has preserved a remnant (11:5) but not on the basis of works, but on grace (11:6). Israel’s stumbling was so that the salvation would come to Gentiles and provoke Israel to jealousy (11:11-12). So my ministry to the Gentiles will hopefully provoke my countrymenn (11:14). Remember that Gentiles are grafted in and don’t be arrogant towards Israel. God can graft them in again, too (11:23-24). After a partial hardening, and the fullness of the Gentiles comes in, all Israel will be saved (11:25-27). This is all to the praise of God and His wisdom (11:33-36).

Gospel Application For the Christian and the Church

As a result of all the “mercies of God” shown in the last 12 chapters, we are told to be “living sacrifices” to God (12:1). We are body parts of the head, Christ Jesus (12:5) with differing gifts to be used rightly (12:6), and motivated by love (12:9-10). These are fleshed out in practical ways (12:11-21, 13:8-14). Within the body, whether strong or weak, we are do live as to the Lord as the main principle (14:1-23) not stumbling one another in the family and seeking not to please ourselves (15:1-6) and to the praise of God. At the close of the letter, Paul reveals that he intends to come to Rome en route to Spain (15:24). His prayer in the meantime, is that ongoing ministry be successful and fruitful, and that his trips be unhindered.

Gospel Friends and Commendation

Paul refers to 18 other believers, 10 of which are women, commending them to the church in Rome. According to thegospel, Paul utters a final benediction of blessing.