#so i'm particularly cranky today

[seekingthestars]

i feel like such a shit employee so often bc they keep being like "more responsibilities! leadership roles! here take this thing! here be in these meetings! here be in charge of all these things and stuff!" and i have absolutely no desire for any of that, i just want to sit quietly in a corner and do my designs and clock out when my day is over and not think about it any more

tired of everyone having to be a leader, i don't want to be a leader, i'm a good worker bee and that's fine with me, i'm tired and burnt out and i just don't want to be in charge of all this shit

[saltpepperbeard]

you ever feel trapped? like you’re just treading water, waiting to drown?

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine going through relationship issues with Spencer and a scare at works sets you both back on the right path

This had been the eighth night in a row you'd slept alone. Opting to sleep in the spare bedroom of the place you and Spencer had bought together. Waking up hurt and sad with your partner was an exhausting way to live, and it was getting to you. The team had been back at the main office for the same amount of time. Having a big bust up on the aftermath of a case meant the journey back on the jet was awkward for everyone involved.

When he hadn't agreed with the way you dealt with the unsub, on top of you both disagreeing on when to start trying for a family. Had left you feeling put down and attacked both in work and in your personal life. Feeling like you couldn't do anything right, and that you were holding him back.

It was made worse by his lack of enthusiasm when you attempted to make amends. Wanting to talk about the issue, but finding it difficult when your boyfriend was a stubborn lump. Shrugging his shoulders and seeming totally disinterested.

After the fourth day of you trying to get through to him. You gave in. Telling yourself that if he wanted to make amends he would. Or he'd realise once it was too late.

Today though, you had a meeting with Garcia, she was going to show you an easier way of accessing some files. The way she does it. Getting yourself up and ready. The house sounded eerily quiet. Spencer did have a habit of impersonating the invisible man when he was home. But still, it was cold and felt empty.

Making your way downstairs, you called out for him, but got no answer.

Realising he wasn't even home. You felt another pang in your chest. Maybe he was done? The thought made your eyes sting. But on checking the time, you would be late to meet Garcia. You grabbed your breakfast out the fridge and grabbed your bag and keys.

Once in the office, you passed the bullring to see Spencer at his desk. Nose deep in some files.

"Hey, what time did you come in? We could have come together." You asked, approaching his desk.

"Early. Didn't want to wake you."

Nodding, you still wanted to push for you both to make up, "did you want to grab lunch somewhere? Would be nice to spend some time with you."

"I'm busy."

"Well I didn't mean right now. Later. When you're free? I'm in Garcias office if you-"

"Y/N, you're here!" Garcia squeaked, "for a moment I thought you were standing me up."

Realising he still wasn't ready to have a decent conversation with you. You gave up, again.

"Never." You smiled at her, before giving Spencer a sad look as he continued to read his papers.

You sat down in Garcias office and fully immersed yourself in the training. Pushing Spencer to the back of your mind.

Around lunchtime you saw Spencer walk past the room and you felt another wave of sadness wash over you.

"So, what's up with you and Sir Smarts-a-lot?" Garcia asked you while you were taking a break.

"There's not really much to tell. We fell out over some serious and not so serious things. I've tried to patch things up. He doesn't want to know. Been trying for like 4 days now."

"I'm sorry. He does seem particularly cranky since you came back from that last case."

"Yeah. Happened while we were out there. I don't even-"

You were interrupted by the sound of shouting from out in the main office. Both you and Garcia looked at each other and wondered who the hell fell out with each other so bad they had to have a screaming match.

Both getting up and wandering down the hall. You just about turned the corner first. But froze in your tracks seeing two people, one with a gun, the other with a briefcase. The woman, with the gun, had the few people that were in the bullring huddled together.

"Shit Garcia go back to your office and lock the door. Call Spence and tell him to stay away. Now!" You whisper shout at her.

"Hey! Put your hands on your head. Get in here Miss now." one of them shouted at you. Not having noticed Garcia as she backed away to her office.

When you didn't move. The seemingly unarmed intruder marched towards you and attempted to grab onto you. As you went to defend yourself. He pulled out a knife and threatened you with it.

"Think very carefully about what you do next." He said lowly.

"What do you guys want. I can help you."

"No you won't. You'll just try and talk me down and I won't let them down again. Get in here or I'm going to make you. And it will hurt."

"What's your name? I'm Y/N. Why are you here? There's no weapons or money stored here. Are you looking for someone?"

"Shut up!" He yelled, you let out a gasp at the sharp pain in your side.

Looking down the blade he was holding embedded in your side. Crumpling down to the floor, you watched as the deep red soaked into your blouse. Spreading across your side.

"What the fuck Darren. You weren't supposed to hurt anyone." A woman came up to the guy and yanked him by his shoulder. "We need to set these charges now and go. Now!"

Charges, that meant explosives.

The pair rushed off and left you bleeding on the floor. Giving you the opportunity to make an escape.

Making it back to Garcias office. You burst through the door, scaring the life out of her.

"Y/N! Oh my god why is there blood. There's a knife hanging out of you."

"Did you speak to Spence?" You asked locking the door behind you.

"Yeah he's in the armory now. They-"

"Call him back! Tell them to abort. Do not come up here!"

"OK, what-why?" She spluttered while calling him back.

"Garcia? Is everything okay. We're just planning how we're going to do this." He answered. You could hear the sound of kevlar being secured. You managed to stumble your way across the room to Garcias desk before your legs gave out.

"Spence, where are you? Do not come up here. And keep people out of the lifts. Do not use them." You panted.

"Y/N are you okay? We haven't left yet. What's going on?"

"I'm fine. I just met the intruders. They're setting charges. Evacuate the rest of the building."

"What? They're going to blow up the building?" Garcia asked, her face paling.

"How big are the explosives?"

"I didn't see. I just managed to get away from them. I did see it was only a small briefcase though."

"That could still be enough to wipe out the whole floor. You need to leave now. Use the far stairwell."

"Garcia, you should go."

"What? I'm not leaving you."

"Both of you go. Now!" Spencer raised his voice.

You shared a look with Garcia, knowing you weren't moving anywhere fast enough.

"We should be okay here," Garcia nodded, "I'll stay with her."

"You're hurt aren't you." Spencer spoke quietly.

"A little bit yeah. Spence, I love you."

"Don't do that. I'm coming to get you."

"No do-" and then the call rang off.

Garcia came and sat next to you. You rested your head on her shoulder.

"I don't get what they were talking about. They said about setting charges. But when the woman saw I'd been stabbed she said they weren't supposed to hurt anyone. How does that make sense." You mutter, starting to feel woozy from the blood loss.

"Unless what they're trying to destroy is paperwork not people," Garcia mused.

"Hotchs office, he keeps loads of important documents in there." You guessed.

"That makes sense. He always takes Sunday's off. So he wouldn't be in there to get hurt."

"Garcia you really should go. Maybe you can get some help." You said quietly. Feeling very lightheaded.

Garcias phone started ringing, answering it she put it on loudspeaker.

"Go ahead. We're just sitting here awaiting our handsome prince's to rescue us."

"Garcia." Spencer answered, "how badly is she hurt? They won't let us get in yet. Not if there's a bomb threat. The whole buildings on lock down. They aren't holding hostages. The other guys from the office have run out already. Are they still there?"

"Woah, woah, woah. One question at a time. Y/N isn't doing great. I don't know what to do Reid. I'm not a doctor. But she's still bleeding."

"What? What happened."

"She got stabbed by one of them. It's still in there but it's-"

"We have to get in there Y/Ns been stabbed. Please. I volunteer to go in. Come on Hotch." He sounded desperate, it made you smile slightly. The irony that it took a near death situation to get him to act like he cared again.

A deafening boom shook the office, jolting you awake.

"Shit was that the-?" You asked.

"I think so." Garcia nodded. "We're okay. Spencer can you hear me?"

You slumped down against Garcias shoulder a bit more. Fighting the urge to fall asleep.

"We saw it. Blown the windows out of Hotch's office as well."

"Tell him..." You trailed off falling into unconsciousness.

Garcia looked at you, panic washing over her. "Y/N? Spencer she's passed out. I don't know what to do- I know I shouldn't take the knife out."

"Is she sat up or laying down?"

"She's sat up, do I lie her down?"

"Yes, don't knock the knife though- I need EMTs with me right now- Garcia, I need you to check if she's breathing." Spencer sounded out of breath, "I'm coming to you as fast as I can."

"Okay, she's laying down. And yes she's breathing."

"You're doing well Garcia. We're seconds away now."

Garcia still let out a scream when the paramedics burst through the door. Stumbling away from your figure, she bumped shoulders with Spencer as the experts dealt with you.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Garcia asked him.

"I don't know. But I feel like a prized jackass now. What if she's not? She will have died thinking I was mad at her."

"I don't know what to say Reid. She was trying. She thought you'd stopped trying."

"The argument was stupid. I was more annoyed us arguing had ruined some plans I had."

"Plans? What do you-ohhh." Garcia cut herself off as she clocked onto what Spencer meant.

He quickly pocketed the small jewellery box as the EMT turned to the pair of them.

[nottsamor]

blood sucking creature — tom riddle

summary : tom cares for you, and he expresses it wonderfully.

tom riddle x vampire!reader, follows the stereotype of vampires being pale asf and having long dark hair.

tom riddle knew there was something special about you. no, it wasn't just the fact you looked other wordly beautiful, enough to gravitate his attention towards you. but, that was already an achievement, as tom found it far too foolish to associate himself in such manners. but, he couldn't resist you. no matter what.

your long dark cascading hair flowing along your back, your almost ghostly white skin—enough to make a man wonder how pale someone could be. or, was it your sharp canines? tom noticed everything about you, he analysed you deeply since the start. to him, you were a mystery he had to uncover.

and in the end, he did. he found out your big secret. in the dark night sky, the moon's light reflecting against the lake's surface, he found you. injecting your teeth in a random gryffindor's neck, holding him as if he was your only source of living, sucking him dry of all the blood he possessed. leaving him there, passed out.

you see, tom found two secrets that night—the first, why the med wing frequently had visitors with bite marks in their neck, and second of all, your secret. about how, you were a blood sucking monster.

but tom wasn't afraid. no, far from it. he found himself attracted to you, and soon enough, you two formed a friendship. and, slowly, you didn't exactly know how—but something called a relationship blossomed between the two of you.

he was cold at times, of course. he was hiding numerous secrets from you, you knew that. but you already knew about the chamber of secrets, or him being the heir of Slytherin as you had helped him uncover that factor.

but today, you were in pain.

your mind felt dizzy, you felt cranky and snappy. you were hungry. incredibly hungry. but, you had no blood stock left. and you could not seduce any man out into the forest to drain him of his blood, as dippet and dumbledore were getting suspicious of all the slytherins, and specifically, you. with the rise of students getting admitted in the med wing with bite marks, he had enforced strict rules in the school. and strict curfew, no one was seen in the beautiful halls in the night.

and so, you were in tom's dorm room. and these were one of the rare moments you two shared physical touch, as the both of you were sat on his bed, him against the headboard as you were in his lap, tears prickling in your eyes as your arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling your head in his neck.

"It hurts so bad, I'm so hungry." your voice cracked, nuzzling yourself deeper into tom's touch. he sighed, rubbing your back in a way that provided comfort. he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, speaking quietly. your vampire senses were particularly sensitive at the moment, and any loud noise could trigger you. hence why, he decided to speak quietly. "i know, darling, i know."

when suddenly, he got an idea. he pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes. "suck on my blood." your eyes immediately widened, "are you crazy? that's gonna seriously drain you! plus, im not gonna suck on your blood, you're my boyfriend!" you exclaimed, as if the idea was simply blasphemous.

"id be a worser boyfriend if i simply stayed put and watched you in suffering. and, im not such a fragile being that i would be drained, my love. im offering you my blood, i cannot watch your writhe in pain." he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

you frowned, biting your lip, still not convinced. "but.." you got cut off, tom's index finger pressed against your finger lightly, which forbade you from arguing. you sighed, the pain was increasing by the minute, and seeing his pretty neck on display, getting his permission to even suck on his blood, was getting to you.

"f—fine. this is a one time thing, alright?" you gulped, tom nodding in satisfaction that you accepted. he tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to you. you directed a gaze at his neck, then into his eyes which still stared at you in something you would call... perhaps fondness.

and then, you attacked. your sharp teeth bit into the side of his neck, greedily sucking onto his sweet red blood. tom did not even show even the slightest sign of pain, he only brushed through your dark hair, seeming unbothered.

a few moments passed, and you finally pulled away. there was the very noticeable bite mark, covered with dry blood. you looked into his eyes, mouth slightly covered in blood. and even in that moment he did not find you ugly, he found you quite beautiful in fact.

your fingers lightly traced over the mark on his neck, "you know that stays right?" you said quietly. tom merely shrugged, "i will have to find ways to re pay the favour." he looked into your eyes. and in that moment, you knew. you wouldn't be anywhere else then here. in his arms, where he made sure you were protected, and did not feel any harm.

[bradshawsbaby]

If you're still taking those late-night prompts, how about "I'm cold. Cuddle with me" + Rhett because I'm having feelings.

Always having feelings about that cowboy!

One of the worst parts about traveling on the rodeo circuit was the accommodations. You never knew what town you were going to end up passing through, or what crummy motel you’d have to spend the night in. Some were better than others, but tonight, you and Rhett had ended up in a particularly crappy one.

You typically tried to look on the bright side of things—at least you and Rhett were together, and you were getting to watch the love of your life live out his dreams. But the broken radiator and the freezing water in the bathroom were enough to sour your mood, especially after a long and exhausting day at the rodeo grounds.

If you were a bit peeved about the situation, you knew Rhett was downright grumpy. He’d had a good ride today, but he’d tweaked a nerve in his shoulder and you knew all he wanted was a hot shower to relax and unwind.

“Stupid shithole,” he’d muttered in frustration when you returned to the motel and were met with ice water instead.

He was taking a quick shower now, trying to wash away the dirt and grime from the day, while you tried to make the room a little bit more comfortable. With no heat, you’d donned a pair of thick socks, sweatpants, a long-sleeve shirt, and one of Rhett’s hoodies to try to keep warm, managing to find an extra blanket in the closet and throwing it onto the bed. You fluffed the pillows as best you could, trying to make it as cozy as possible for when Rhett came out of the bathroom.

Just as you were settling down under the covers, the bathroom door opened and Rhett stepped out with a white towel slung low around his waist. Your mouth watered at the sight. But his handsome face was twisted into a scowl as he stomped over to his travel bag.

“Is a little hot water after a long damn day too much to ask for?” he grumbled, digging through his things for a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Normally he liked to sleep with minimal clothing, or none at all, but you could see he was still visibly shaking from his frigid shower.

You bit your lower lip, leaning back against the headboard. “I know, but at least we’ll be checked out of here tomorrow,” you offered, trying to find a silver lining.

“Not fast enough,” Rhett grunted, dropping his towel and quickly getting dressed.

You knew he was just exhausted and in pain, and that was what was making him so cranky. So you held out a hand to him, your voice calm as you said, “I’m cold. Cuddle with me.”

If you had tried to offer to take care of him when he was in a mood like this, he would have just gotten more snappish, but when you turned the tables and made it seem like you needed him, he was quick to soften and come crawling into bed beside you.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmured, wrapping you in his arms and holding you against his chest. “I wish I could have taken you someplace better than this,” he said with a frown, glancing around your more than modest lodgings.

“Shh, I don’t care about that,” you assured him, draping yourself across his chest. “Just want to be with you.”

He chuckled quietly under his breath, running his fingers through your hair as your eyes grew heavier and heavier.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” he whispered against the top of your head, dropping a kiss on it. “It means the world to me, havin’ you in my corner.”

You smiled, cuddling closer to him. “I love you, Rhett.”

“I love you, too, baby. Now let’s get some sleep.”

late night prompts

[xstarkillerx]

Because I'm in procrastination mode today aperantly, you know what else I've been thinking about? My dear, sweet @anakincentric. Pretty Blade, this is for you because I love your version of anakin so much <3

Tw: dead dove do not eat

We've talked about this before but I honestly love the idea of being anakin's little baby and having a dirty blog where you reblog porn gifs and talk about all the ways you get fucked into oblivion by him. Anakin knows about it of course, but he isn't nosy, you never have to worry about him snifing around.

It's a rare bout of confidence (stupidity) that leads you to ask if he wants to see it, and he honestly wouldn't have paid it any mind if you didn't immediatly backtrack. All red in the face and turning away, looking like you just realized what a bad a idea that would be and well... now he's gotta see what's on there. So, he settles you in his lap while you log in and make a big fuss about hiding your password from him. As soon as you log in there's already a gif of some big brutish man shoving his cock into a girls tight asshole, and you're whining all over again about how you change your mind and "do i have toooooo." Anakin doesn't budge. You wanted to show him, and he knows all this fuss that came after is an ill attempt at reinserting shame where it has no business being, so you proceed to your blog, pretty and pink as expected.

See, it's not so much the gifs of pretty little girls like you getting passed around and wrecked, or the videos of pussies getting stuffed full by inhumanely large dildos that you reblog, it's the paragraphs upon paragraphs you post, they're fucking filthy, kind of gross, honestly. You can feel his eyes scanning the page, his little huffs of amusement, his gentle squeezes on you arm when something was particularly vulger. You're getting redder by the minute.

"I didn't even know you knew that word, Aivela-"

"Daddy, we can stop now." Your little hands are grasping tightly at his shirt sleeve, resisting the urge to tug his hand away from the computer, you've had enough.

"No, keep going, what's that? Oh, that's a long one, you wanna read it to me?" Your nails are close to ripping holes into his sleeve, you know this one, you know this one. You shake your head, craning your neck to look up at him and give your best pleading look, it only solidifies his interest. "Come on angel, I worked all day I'm tired. Read it."

And you do, quietly, full of shame, stuttering. "Today my... Today my d- dad caught me by suprise. Mom was doing laundry in the basement while he fucked me upstairs in the livingroom. I had my headphones on, music blasting when he pushed me over the arm of the sofa and pulled my..." you flail your arms, too flustered to continue.

"Come on, I wanna hear what your dad did to you."

All you can bring yourself to do is hide your face in the crook of his arm. "you know already it's you!" you stretch every vowel, whining and cranky, he can tell you've had enough. Anakin continues reading in his head, dropping the odd comment here and there and stroking your hair while your face remains hidden against his chest.

"Oh my," "no, baby that's fucking dirty, I don't remember it like that," "you slut, is that why you asked me to say that again? wanted to commit it to memory to tell are your perv followers about it?" Every one made you squirm, and when he finished he gave you a kiss on the head with a laugh. "You like telling them them I'm your dad? Look at me, is that what you post on your little blog all day?"

You nod, looking about close to tears when he pulls you in for a kiss. He laughs like it's the most amusing thing in the fucking world, endearing even, regardless of how fucked up it might be.

"They just eat it up huh? Bunch of fat old virgin fucks in your dms?" You nod, too shy, too overhwelmed to tell him about the wealth of unasnwered anonymous asks you have stockpiled you telling you yeah well if I was your dad I'd molest you too, and no wonder he touches you he's got a perfect slut for a daughter. Love the stories <3. Those are for a different day.

[that-one-odd-shipper]

🍉 . Fic Post . 🍉

This is a previously written fic! Right now I'm promoting my old fics just to let y'all know they exist.

🪭- A little Dazai fic! This is my first bsd agere fic I put out there, and I am pretty proud of it 🥺

🍄- This fic is inspired by the lovely Playrough's agency little fic! In which Dazai has a nap time set up for him by the agency since he tends to get cranky and fussy without sleep, but a meeting ends up making him miss it for the day. What Dazai didn't expect is how used to the naps his body had gotten.

���- Dazai is really small in all of my upcoming fics and this one, not even one year when he's regressed. Kunikida and Chuuya are co-caregivers to Dazai and it is mentioned how Dazai doesn't particularly like the concept of being little. This fic is pure fluff, a tiny bit of stress comes from the baby but not enough to be considered angst. It's a nice story to fall asleep to :)

❤- Now, I'll attach the first few paragraphs bellow for you to get a feel of the fic. Link to my ao3 and the fic itself will be at the end! Please enjoy, comment and like!

Ever since Kunikida and the Agency have found out about Dazai's regression, they've been pushing nap times. Something about him getting "Cranky, tired, and less productive" after a certain time in the day

Dazai kicked his legs under the table, trying to stay focused. There had been an important joint Mafia and Agency meeting today, which just so happened to fall at an inconvenient time.

...Stupid, he knows. Besides, Dazai is never productive so what difference would it make?!

These naps normally happen late at lunch. It's not like he could just slip out of the Agency to go home early, either! To ensure he got this nap in every day the Agency and the stupid slug, decided to pair up for this.

If he tried to escape and head home, Chuuya's stupid camera door sensor would catch it. Of course that was set up for him...the slug can't mind his business! He didn't even do anything before it was set up, the executive just assumed he would try! Rude...

And so, the little one had to accept that he would be caught either way. It was either walking around in the stuffy outdoors for the rest of the day every single day or taking a nap. His pride said the first option, but it's obvious what the best choice was.

'But Dazai, you're a genius! Why didn't you just deactivate the system or use another entrance?' Well, it's pretty hard to think clearly enough to sneakily turn off a system when you're admittedly very fuzzy and droopy.

From working so hard of course. Nothing else, totally.

He doesn't need an assigned nap! Not to mention, a person to watch over him. He knows when he needs to take a break... Totally. This is why in the first place he didn't want the agency to figure it out, but that all went down the drain...

Have they been nothing but accepting of him? Yes, that's the issue! They shouldn't be condoning this behavior, let alone enforcing it! Dazai doesn't deserve to act like a literal baby, "A healthy coping mechanism" be damned. He doesn't need one of those either.

Protesting that mindset to them only made it worse, however. That doesn't mean he wouldn't still attempt to be bratty and refuse, but it gets hard when all you feel is comfort and security in a Member's (or Chu's) arms.

How these naps played out was always the same. He would get fed a bottle of warm milk about 30 minutes before his nap, fed because he got the privilege of being able to feed himself taken away...

He only dropped it on his head like, once! It doesn't matter if it caused him to start crying, he can still do it like anyone else can feed themselves! He shouldn't have started crying anyway, it was a tiny little bump. God, why did little him have to be so sensitive?

When it was time for the nap, there were two main locations. With anyone besides Kunikida, Chuuya, Yosano, or Fukuzawa he was to be laid down on the couch smothered in blankets.

But when Kunikida had a chance, he would always volunteer to watch him first. It's like he has some attachment, the idealistic man always looks anxious when he's away from the embarrassing baby side.

With Kunikida, he was either laid on a tiny futon that was unrolled from the closet next to Kunikida's desk but rarely. Most of the time he's on someone's lap being rocked to sleep since motion puts him out like a light.

Others that were offered were Atsushi, Ranpo, Naomi, Junichiro, and with supervision of another adult, Kenji. However, with Ranpo and Atsushi, it gets... Complicated.

Atsushi and Ranpo are also little, but they are at least big kids! Most of the time, at least. They don't need naps or bottles, but they are also set off easily in the presence of another little.

That was learned the hard way when Kunikida ended up with 3 giggly and squeamish littles after coming back from break. From that day on all three of them couldn't be alone caring together, unless there was time for some sort of play date after nap time.

Dazai would rather live than have to regress more times than needed, so he's never had a play date with the two, though he's heard they do it decently often.

And of course, there was Chuuya. Sometimes, when he was free during lunch break he would come to pick Dazai up for his nap. Normally he'd get taken home, but occasionally he was taken to Chu's office where he got to sit on the rolly chairs!

However he always preferred going home because of the risk of someone walking into him, the genius Dazai Osamu...giggling as Chuuya Nakahara bounces him on his lap or gently spins the rolling chair around. Yea no.

Originally the nap thing was set to every other day, or just not required every day. Dazai ruined that for himself though very easily. Once he had gotten used to the napping, apparently his body went 'oo! Time for sleep!!!? ;?! ' around the scheduled time automatically now.

He ended up struggling to stay awake as he did work with Kunikida one day and got nothing done, per usual. Dazai eventually drifted off on his shoulder from the exhaust, not very grown-ass 22-year-old of him.

But back to the current situation, it's the dreaded nap time. Well, way past nap time. Currently, there is a meeting going on between the Agency and the port mafia, that's all fine. The fine part was that the meeting had gone at least an hour off schedule.

It was planned so as not to bump into the time he gets put down, but stupid Mori couldn't agree on the originally proposed terms, so now they've been stuck!

______________________________________

Another thing is that Dazai hadn't quite realized how his body had gotten used to the nap times. Now that's come to bite him in the ass because he can't stop rubbing his eyes and yawning.

The work is called Cranky Baby! Here's the preview, Links to the full story and my ao3 page bellow.

Work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56113351

My ao3 acc: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Odd_Shipper/pseuds/That_One_Odd_Shipper

[eldritchsurveys]

1251.

Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? >> I don't think so, but possibly.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? >> I have not.

What’s the weather been like today? >> Clear and sunny, on the milder side.

What was the last exam you sat for? .

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? >> I will not.

Do you currently have any unread text messages, and who from? .

Speaking of text messages, what colour is your cell phone? >> Black.

Do you live anywhere near the woods? >> There are plenty of woodsy areas around, but not a proper forest or anything.

Would you ever consider a career in the tourism industry? >> I would not.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? >> I do not. When was the last time you used q-tips? >> Yesterday, I think.

How does your hair react to humid weather or rain? >> It doesn't.

What’s your favourite flavour of iced tea? .

Do you understand music theory? >> The only time I studied it was in high school choir and it frustrated me so badly because I just couldn't grasp it despite really wanting to. I'd think that I'd gotten it, and it would just all slide out of my brain like water off a duck. I don't know if I'd be any better at understanding it now, but I'm not interested in learning it now so it doesn't matter.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? >> I don't know, seven or so. I'm not tracking that sort of thing these days.

Are you expected to act professionally at your job? .

Infomercials: entertaining or stupid? >> I am uninterested in them.

What’s your favourite brand of energy drink? .

Do you have (or have you ever had) acne? >> I had it as a teenager and then it promptly cleared up when I hit adulthood.

When was the last time you got pins-and-needles? >> I don't remember, but it happens fairly often.

Why did you click to take this survey? >> It was the first one I saw that I hadn't already taken recently.

If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? .

How do you get new music? Buy or download or what? >> Neither, I find random things to listen to on Spotify.

Have you ever sent someone an abusive text message? >> Possibly, but I doubt it.

Do you require a lot of time to do things or are you quick? >> I don't think I'm particularly one way or the other, innately, but I do prefer to do things at a slower pace.

What will be the next concert you attend? >> I have no idea.

Turn the nearest television on, what’s on? .

How often do you “wake up on the wrong side of the bed”? >> I don't wake up cranky very often. I think it helps that I don't have to wake up at a certain time so I'm not getting my sleep pattern interrupted by an alarm or anything.

Can you rap? >> I cannot. I'm always impressed by rappers' skill, that shit is amazing to me.

What do you usually order when you’re at McDonald’s? .

Are there any textbooks near where you are right now? >> Not by me. There are some in the house in general, because Sparrow is a student.

What’s the time? >> 14:09. Do you know how to use a DSLR camera? >> I don't.

How’s your body temperature right now? >> Comfortably warm; my space heater is running, I'm wearing a hoodie with the hood up, and my lower half is under a duvet.

Do you use Celsius or Fahrenheit? >> Fahrenheit.

What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? >> The space heater, incidentally. I opted for the Used/Like New one on Amazon and got it for $20 less than a new one.

Have you ever studied any ancient societies? >> Not seriously.

Do you like to wear long, dangling earrings? >> I do, but not often or for a long time. I like the look of them but I don't like stressing my earlobes out.

What was the last reason you took medicine? >> A bit of sinusitis.

Do you exercise regularly? >> I try to do something with my body every day. Been trying out Hybrid Calisthenics lately but it's difficult for me to keep up with it because it's so repetitive and boring to me.

What is your coffee of choice? (flat white, cappuccino, etc.) >> My default when I'm at a place that doesn't have any fun concoctions that catch my eye is a vanilla latte.

Do you pay any attention to your country’s politics? >> Well, more than I used to, now, but still not nearly as much as the average person. Are you feeling worried about anything right now? >> I am not, which is a godsend. Are you a gossipy type of person? >> I enjoy being nosy and listening to (or eavesdropping on, lol) other people's gossip. I'm not much of a contributor, though. I don't even like venting about interpersonal stuff to third parties, it just don't feel right.

When will your next meal be, and do you know what it will consist of? >> I don't know what I'm going to eat next. I'll probably just wait for my mind to latch onto something.

Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. >> I've had food poisoning a few times and that's definitely the sickest I've ever felt.

What’s your opinion on your in-laws, if you have any? . Do you make excuses often, or do you just get things done? >> A secret third thing -- I acknowledge the various handicaps I have to getting things done and I work with them instead of trying to fight against or dismiss them. Have you seen your best friend today? .

What can you smell right now? >> Nothing, considering my sinuses are acting up.

Any important birthdays coming up? >> Sparrow's is in a few days.

Fireworks: yay or nay? >> I'm sensory-defensive and I have the misfortune of living in a state where they're legal for the average joe to purchase and set off in their backyard, so... big, big nay.

Do you have any plans for the rest of the day? >> I haven't decided yet. I might play a bit of some game or another after this to get a dopamine hit before I do the dishes.

How about tomorrow? Any plans? >> No plans.

Do you know how to do your own laundry or does someone else do it? >> I have been doing my own laundry since I was in middle school.

If you could eat or drink anything right now, what would it be? >> I don't know, man. What colour are your headphones? >> Black. My earbuds are navy blue.

Think of the last long car trip you had, where did you go? >> Indianapolis. Do you have a Twitter account that you use regularly? >> I have a Twitter account so I can look at NSFW artwork from tumblr users who have stopped trying to post it to tumblr. That's literally all I use it for, I am extremely uninterested in actually using Twitter.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! >> I've seen photos of them and I think they're spiffy. :3

What was the last movie you saw at the theatres? >> Longlegs.

Are there any new movies that you’d really like to see? >> Man, so many. I just love movies.

If you could play one instrument flawlessly, what would it be? >> Hmm...... theremin. Talk about a party trick!

Do you overthink a lot of things? >> I am an expert ruminator.

Is there anybody you miss but can’t see again? >> Sure.

[malamai]

Today I absolutley sucked. ✌️

Last night I could not sleep (common issue in my world, I know.) No matter what sleep aid I took, what I did, last night was a bad night for me, it was particularly awful because it was my management shift today. YIPEE... so I ended up FINALLY managing to get myself to sleep for a light nap, I got up at 6am, threw on my work clothes and while I was looking in my drawer for socks, I literally fell asleep The sims 4 style from exhaustion while trying to find the socks. Then slept through two alarms that I set for work and suddenly I opened my eyes and realised it was light outside and instantly knew I was late as fuck because it was 9am and I wasn't meant to be on the floor, I was meant to be at my desk about 30 minutes previous to that moment. So I jump up and like any normal person, naturally I scream "SHIT" and I ran, SOCKLESS BY THE WAY, I ran so fast from my house to work I got to the other part of town in less than seven minutes and now I have blisters from my vans. JOY...

I get to work and a customer is pulling up and hops out of his car, he's like "do you open later now?" And I'm like frantic and out of breath telling him "no. I slept in, ill tell you more when I can breathe again." Because I ran RELENTLESSLY to the point where I was coughing and coughing and I'm trying to call admin and I can't even speak to admin because I can't catch my breath, she's like "imma call you back", I'm trying to set everything up in the shop, the dude who caught me outside decided to help put things up on display (which I really REALLY fucking appreciated) and I eventually got the shop together and made myself a coffee. I then popped to to toilets and l caught a glimps of myself in the mirror AND FUCK ME, I looked like I had been on a week long bender! My hair was all over, bags under my eyes, pale (probably from the lack of oxygen in my body) I looked dishevelled and ridiculous! 😂

Luckily for me because of how open I have been with the admin and higher up colleagues about what is going on in my life I was instantly given a decision of "no further action" because as it was said on the phone, they are aware of how much I have going on at the moment and they think it's a wonder that I power on through and haven't taken time off, which I appreciate. I also spoke to admin about everything new going on and found myself laughing at points and it was weird but nice, because she was laughing with me and i said "sorry I know I shouldnt laugh but I do just find myself laughing at that now. Like it's really not funny HA!" and she said "Misty, that's trauma, you've had a lot of trauma lately, sometimes when we process that we find ourselves looking back and laughing." While also laughing with me and she's very right.

Towards the end of my shift I was 30 minutes late out because people wouldn't leave and then some random guy decided to walk into my life and put £57 worth of coins made up of various small change into one of the machines and then turn to me and say "well that's one way to get rid of my shrapnel!" And smile. LITERALLY. It made me wish there was shrapnel in my brain because he could of just brought me the money and I would have changed it for him and not had to count it at stupid o'clock and TO TOP IT OFF. I HAD TO COIN EVERY PENNY AND THE MONEY WAS FUUUUCKING STICKY!!!! 🤮🤮🤮 I was too exhausted and cranky to be dealing with sticky dirty money!

In all seriousness I am not surprised I was so tired that I just flopped because at the moment I find myself feeling like a forgotten part of society. As a mother I have been in many situations in my life, I have been the teenage mother, I have been the workaholic motherand I have been the judged tattooed mother but weirdly I find this most recent one the toughest, and I can respect the fact that I have clawed my way to making it to a place where some people who didn't have kids as a teen would struggle to get to but there is literally no fucking help for a 30 year old woman who owns her own house who's relationship ended. Right now I am on antidepressants, sleep aid, iron, folic acid beause of b12 anemia, I'm working my ass off, not using childcare so it doesn't gobble up my wage. The other parent moved 40 minutes away and the only help I am getting is from my parents, for a day and a night a week, I'm still hosting the sleepovers, I'm still playing the games, I'm still making ends meet and on top of all that I am fixing up this house! It's like when your kids are over the age of 5 years old you are just expected to juggle on a unicycle with flaming wheels and keep the shit show going and smile til you drop and I don't get it! We just have to get though it! It seems to me eveytime you find a helping hand you can't reach for it because it will risk fuck up something else and its not fair. Nobody wants to end up a single parent at 30 but it seems like as a woman of this age, in this position in society you are pushed to your limit and backed into a corner.

On a lighter note, I have 2 days holiday now and I am taking the kids to their first gig tomorrow with my best friend! I am going to let my hair down and embarrass the life out of my kids! 😁

[xylatox]

Cinnamon, a Kim Mingyu fic :)) I wanted to read this for a while and I finally got to it today!!!

Immediately loving the relationship between reader and hannie and moreso how they reacted to Gyu having a girl over😭, it does make me feel bad for reader because she has such clear feelings for Gyu it actually hurts, like — You roll your eyes, but you’re fighting a smile. You hate that Mingyu can just charm you right out of a mood, and you hate it even more than he knows it and weaponizes it. He’s the one who gave you the nickname Sunny (or Sunshine depending on how cranky you were at the given moment) back when you were a college freshman. Your other roommates picked it up, but Mingyu was the only one who ever turned Sunshine or Sunny into Sunny Baby — this is actually so darn sweet???

I do appreciate that seeing the momentd with Daeyoung is actually really sweet especially since he more cared about knowing reader than the bowling :(

Loving thst amidst the chaos with Hannie, Wonwoo is like the voice of reason to not encourage so much teasing and it's so sweet that despite his plans to go home for the holidays he still offers to stay in the apartment with her :(

The difference in the reader's reaction to the flowers from Daeyoung vs Gyu omg :((( —Because being thought of earlier by Daeyoung was nice, but it is so much better to be known, like this. Mingyu knows you don’t like roses. Mingyu knows your favorites. Mingyu knows you — in so much pain oh my god.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake — this expression is so beautiful what the hell???

It hurts how much the dream affected her and eventhough Gyu was the main person in said dream she still went to him :(

“I’m not sure you do,” he says, and the gentleness is gone from his tone; you’ve moved into the Tough Love section of the lecture, apparently. “You can’t keep playing house with him, pretending you’re together, and then falling apart every time he makes it clear that it isn’t real. You’ll never feel better like this. It will never change, Sunny. You’ll be like this, forever. Is that what you want?” — Hannie looking out for her constantly (and Wonwoo too even if he hasn't particularly voiced it).

It hurts how sweet Daeyoung is too but reader is so into Gyu I'm not sure if she can let go and fully give herself to him yknow.

God, Daeyoung is actually insanely sweet and understanding??? like to an extent that I'm shocked actually, he really does like reader.

Wonwoo gives you a very deadpan finger heart from his spot on the couch. — absolutely love Wonwoo, he really is that guy.

I actually super love reader's relationship with Daeyoung like it's actually so sweet , he's reaction to the Sunny Baby nickname is so real and valid

“Yeah, dude,” he says easily as he leaves again. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”— Jeonghan is so evil I love it.

It's so insane that even in June reader still dreams of Gyu — The blanket of darkness makes him bold. He scoffs, not even trying to hide it. “Why not? Because of that guy?” Like he doesn’t know Daeyoung’s name, like the last five months never happened. That guy. — this is an insane response, Gyu's jealousy is showing waw.

Daeyoung was so sweet and nice, his reaction is valid imo, like, it does suck that the person reader was getting over she lived with. He does deserve better though, but, I'm glad thet talked about it, I feel like it's just hindering the inevitable though.

The fight with Gyu, the breakup with Daeyoung:( ugh

I do think Gyu calling reader by her name and not all the nicknames shows how much he was affected too :((

Mingyu is sunrise, leaking orange and pink and yellow and white and chasing away a world of purples and blues. He’s so bright you have to squint, a promise of a fresh start, an end to the darkness of night. — this is so beautiful wtf.

You will, in just a second. But first, you lean over to the candle you have burning on the coffee table and adjust it just slightly to center the label, which reads Fall Harvest and Cinnamon. — oh my god.

This entire piece was so beautiful, I'm so glad I finally got to read it😭 it was such an emotional Rollercoaster

Cinnamon || KMG

banner by @sailorrhansol

Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab!

Cinnamon mingyu x fem!reader (nicknamed Sunny), reader x male oc for a while fluff smut angst best friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, idiots to lovers all apply NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You finally decide to try and move on after years of waiting for Mingyu to return your feelings. But when you start bringing your new boyfriend around more often, things with Mingyu get... difficult.

WC: 19k

Warnings: language, recreational drinking and overdrinking, a brief mention of throwing up from a hangover, angst and hurt feelings, not miscommunication but definitely refusal to communicate, kissing (some with mg and some with a male oc), arguments, reader and mingyu are both imperfect people who make mistakes and do things wrong... theyre not bad or toxic people but their choices can be hurtful... theyre humans who mess up have to just do their best to do better going forward, quick and prosey smut scene with piv penetration

A/N: thank you to @sailorsoons and @eoieopda for beta-inggggg iluuuuu

--

December

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

You grumble in response, eyes still mostly closed, as you make your way by muscle memory to your apartment’s barely-functioning coffee machine. Only once you’ve poured a mug, stirred in everything you need to make it palatable, and taken your first sip, do you speak actual words.

“Morning. You’re up early.”

Jeonghan, one of your three roommates, nods solemnly. “I have a nine o’clock meeting today, but I need to get some files together first, so I’m trying to be there by eight,” he tells you. You glance at the clock on the microwave - it’s already 7:20.

“You might want to get moving,” you warn him.

He makes a face that says, I know, but - and cocks his head towards the bathroom the four of you share. The door is closed and the light inside is on, which means it must be occupied. It’s not usually a problem, even with four of you - your schedules are just different enough that it works out.

You frown. “Wonwoo isn’t gone yet?” He’s usually the first one out of the house on weekdays since he’s got the longest commute.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but then the light clicks off and the door opens. A girl you’ve never seen before steps out cautiously, then pauses when she sees the kitchen isn’t empty.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hi. Good morning. I’ll just -”

She gives you each a polite nod and slips quickly back through the nearest door - Mingyu’s bedroom.

You face Jeonghan again and roll your eyes. He gives you a bit of a grimace and gets up, hurrying into the now-empty bathroom.

You take his seat at the table, sip slowly at your coffee. Having three guys as roommates means this happens with relative regularity, though usually the guys keep their conquests to weekends and holidays. Mingyu must have really liked this girl to bring her home on a weeknight. You glance back at his closed door; you can faintly hear their voices, but not what they’re saying. She was pretty.

You tuck away whatever feelings you might have about this, just like you always do, wipe your heart as clean as a classroom chalkboard at the beginning of a new day. Jeonghan vacates the bathroom, clearly in a hurry, and you take his place, turning the shower on and praying that there’ll be enough hot water left to get you through. (There’s not.)

Later, as you sit on the train amidst a sea of other morning commuters, you check your phone.

Roomies 💕

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: i would like to issue a formal complaint

[8:07 am] wonuuu: i left plenty of coffee bro

[8:07am] (jeong)Han Solo: not that

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: if this is a noise complaint… i’m sorry but also no i’m not

[8:09am] You: you’re disgusting

[8:09am] Cinnamingyu: you love me

[8:10am] You: 🙄

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: so does the girl whose presence in our one (1) bathroom made me late this morning

[8:10am] (jeong)Han Solo: if i get fired you’re covering my part of the rent

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: have fun defending that in small claims court

[8:11am] You: i am happy to be a witness on your behalf

[8:11am] Cinnamingyu: et tu brutus?

[8:11am] You: my shower was lukewarm at best

[8:12am] You: you will be hearing from my counsel

[8:12am] You: thanks in advance wonwoo

[8:14am] wonuuu: for the millionth time… I cannot be your counsel. I’m not qualified yet.

[8:14am] You: yet ☝️

[8:17am] Cinnamingyu: let’s not ignore the real problem here… we need another bathroom

[8:21am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok great, tell me when you win the lottery so we can move out

Chuckling, you slide your phone back into your coat pocket as the train pulls into your stop. You hurry through the train station, tucking your chin into your coat collar as you speed through the icy December morning. It’s one of those dry cold days, where the air around you feels frozen, almost hurts to breathe. Everything is grey - sky above you, buildings around you, ground below you. Fast steps take you the three blocks to your office building, where you sigh in relief as the heated air hits your face, chasing away the chill.

You check your phone again as you hang your coat on your chair in your cubicle. As usual, Mingyu has texted you privately, away from the group chat.

[8:31am] Cinnamingyu: sorry about the hot water :(

[8:38am] You: you should be. i shivered through my whole conditioning routine.

[8:38am] Cinnamingyu: poor sunny baby :( :( :( will you ever forgive me?

You roll your eyes, but you’re fighting a smile. You hate that Mingyu can just charm you right out of a mood, and you hate it even more than he knows it and weaponizes it. He’s the one who gave you the nickname Sunny (or Sunshine depending on how cranky you were at the given moment) back when you were a college freshman. Your other roommates picked it up, but Mingyu was the only one who ever turned Sunshine or Sunny into Sunny Baby.

It’s absolutely horrendous, unfathomable, deeply unfair that it works, that it makes you melt into goo when he uses it. Still, you try to hold strong.

[8:38am] You: don’t you Sunny Baby me Kim Mingyu, you have crimes to answer for!!!

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: ill cook for you tonight as penance. and then maybe a movie?

You frown. You wish you could take him up on the offer. Mingyu’s a great cook. One of the many things you love about him.

[8:39am] You: rain check. i won’t be home for dinner

[8:39am] Cinnamingyu: what’s this? did you manage to bag a man????

[8:39am] You: i hate you so much

[8:39am] You: yes you absolute scrambled egg, i have a date

Mingyu sends you a gif of an old man suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, and you laugh out loud. Then you stash your phone behind your keyboard and get to work. But when you check it again a few hours later, after your first meeting of the day lets out, he’s texted you again.

[8:40am] Cinnamingyu: is it the same guy as last week? date number TWO?? 😮

[10:51am] You: yeeeeees 🤭

[10:51am] Cinnamingyu: wow, big moves for you. a second date! do we need to have The Talk?

[10:51am] You: blocked and reported

This is an ancient song and dance for you and Mingyu. When you’ve been friends as long as you have, some things just become routine. Like you, gracefully ignoring the handful of girls that you never see a second time. Like him, acting like it’s monumental when you actually give someone a chance.

He’s used to you giving no one a chance, ever. He knows it doesn’t happen much.

But you had a good first date with Daeyoung last week. A really good first date. You’d been texting a lot since then, too. He was funny - witty. And cute. So you’d thought to yourself… what the hell. Why not? Why not go out a second time? What else were you going to do tonight?

(Stay home and eat the food Mingyu cooks for you. Watch a movie together on the couch.)

And, sure, you do want to do those things. But going out with Daeyoung tonight won’t change a thing between you and Mingyu. He’ll grill you about it when you get home, maybe tease you a little, and you’ll do food and a movie another night.

Daeyoung takes you bowling. You weren’t sure how you’d feel about it, not having been in a bowling alley since you were a kid, and remembering them as vaguely sticky places. But it ends up being kind of cute, maybe even nostalgic. Daeyoung buys a pitcher of beer and sets it on your - yes - sticky table, and walks with you as you select a pink ball that is definitely meant for children. 

“You know that’s only six pounds, right?” he asks you, smiling playfully.

“Bold of you to think I could lift a heavier one,” you deadpan, and he laughs. You like his laugh - it’s easy, light, like he’s wholly uncomplicated. You could use some uncomplicated in your life. 

You're terrible at bowling - you score a 42 on your first game, the ball finding the gutter more times than it stays on the lane. Even so, you manage to have fun. Daeyoung doesn’t make you feel weird about it - in fact, he barely pays attention to the actual bowling. Instead he talks to you about your day, asks about your family, doesn't seem like he's freaked out that you live with three guy friends. He doesn’t even ask the very common, “so, has anything ever happened there?” for which you’re grateful. 

He’s got three sisters, you learn, and grew up with cats but still wants a dog someday. He graduated two years before you, has never traveled outside the country. 

You offer back your own resume of sorts - an older sister and a younger brother, no pets growing up and allergic to most mammals (perhaps humans included, as has been pointed out by Mingyu on many occasions, usually in the same conversation that he’s calling you Sunshine and pinching your cheeks like your attitude is cute). Graduated with Honors and haven’t traveled much either, though you’d love to when you have some money saved up.

Your phone lights up on the table every so often, and you check it while Daeyoung takes his turn on the lane. A few are Jeonghan and one of your co-workers, and one is your little brother asking how to get blood out of laundry which is super alarming - but the rest are from Mingyu.

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: just know that you are missing one of my best creations

[7:19pm] Cinnamingyu: but dont worry i will save you some ☺️ because i’m the best roommate ever

[7:31pm] You: thank youuuuu! I might not have any tonight but you know i’ll eat the leftovers!

[7:31pm] Cinnamingyu: hows the date?

[7:36pm] You: i am very bad at bowling actually!!!

[7:36pm] Cinnamingyu: aim for the pins

[7:43pm] You: have i mentioned that i hate you?

[7:43pm] Cinnamingyu: guess i’ll throw these leftovers out then

[8:12pm] Cinnamingyu: what time do you think youll be home?

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: sorry i didnt mean that like WHEN WILL YOU BE HOME YOUNG LADY

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: i was asking bc i was deciding if i want to start a movie or wait for you i wasnt trying to

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: you know

[8:15pm] Cinnamingyu: anyway. aim for the pins. wear protection. etc. see you later lol

[8:38pm] You: young lady 🙄 go away mingyu!!! 

[8:38pm] Cinnamingyu: you dont mean that

[8:38pm] You: i don’t 😘

[8:47pm] You: if you wanna save a movie for me… i should be home by 11

Daeyoung drives you home after the date, and you note that his car is clean, but not serial killer clean. A green flag. 

When he asks if he can see you again soon, as he's pulling the car up to your building, you tell him yes without hesitating. It’ll be your first third date in maybe ever, and you make a little note in your brain that you should probably talk to him about this, make sure he can be on the same page - that this is fun and you’ll keep going out as long as it’s a good time, but you aren’t really looking for serious.

When he pauses, leaning in a little closer, you feel yourself smile, and you let him. It’s a nice kiss.

He’s a nice guy.

There’s no reason you couldn’t follow through with this. There’s no giant problem with him, no personality quirk or inherent difference that makes him ineligible.

But. 

You push the thought away. “Thanks for tonight,” you tell him. “I had a good time.”

“You’d have a better time if you listened to my advice and used a heavier ball,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he’s teasing. “You can’t expect to knock down pins when they weigh more than what you’re throwing at them.”

“Sounds fake,” you joke, and hop out of the car. Before you shut the door, you pause. “See you next weekend?”

His smile unfurls, pleased. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll text you.”

You practically skip back into the apartment. You pause at the closet by the front door, pulling off your boots and hanging up your puffy winter coat. You can hear the tv on in the living room and water running in the kitchen.

You step into the kitchen, heading for the fridge. Mingyu stands at the sink, his back to you, up to his elbow in suds. You bump him with your hips as you pass by, and he kicks at you and misses. You open the fridge and grab a can of seltzer. Mingyu smiles at you from the sink, and just like that, Daeyoung evaporates from your mind.

He calls you Sunny, but he’s the sun. Has been that way as long as you’ve known him - since undergrad. 

You’d met in your freshman year - he was puppy-dog cute, back then, not the chiseled sculpture of a man who takes up half your kitchen now. You’d been in the Arts and he’d been in the Sciences - something mathy - but you’d bonded in one of those godawful general requirement classes, and somehow the friendship had taken hold.

Mingyu holding your hand - metaphorically and literally - through your two required math classes and two required science labs was the only reason you’d even managed to graduate. Of course, you’d also written every single formal paper he had through the whole four years, so it evened out.

You complement each other that way, in every area. He’s outgoing and friendly, you’re cranky enough to be given the nickname Sunny in pure irony. Mingyu likes puzzles and problems he can work out, you like to turn the brain off for any and all hobbies. Mingyu is sunshine and big smiles, you are made of salt and sarcasm. 

But you love each other - have been best friends since almost the moment you met. There is nothing in your life you’d be willing to lose less than him.

You wander up to him and lean against his arm, mostly to be funny because he continues to wash dishes even as it jostles you around, and it becomes a little game of him trying to shake you off and you refusing to be shaken.

“How was your night?” he asks finally, reaching to turn off the water. You automatically pass him a dish towel to dry his hands. He takes it, drying, and then reaches around you to hang it back up near the oven. 

“Not as good as yours,” you snicker, noticing a purple blotch near his collar.

He flushes dark, slapping a hand over the spot. “Yah,” he complains. 

You laugh. “She was cute!”

“She’d be cuter if she spent less time in our bathroom!” Jeonghan’s disembodied voice floats from the living room.

“Alright, we get it!” Mingyu calls back hotly. “You’ve only been complaining about that for fifteen hours!”

Cackling, you follow him out into the living room. Jeonghan is sprawled sideways on the two-seater, a show you don’t recognize playing across the tv screen. Down the hallway, Wonwoo’s door is open about a foot, casting the hallway in flickering blue light that tells you he’s gaming and you probably won’t see him for the rest of the night. 

“So,” Jeonghan says dryly, without peeling his eyes from the tv, “I noticed your boyfriend’s car idling outside for quite a while before you came in. Were we necking?”

“Necking?” you splutter. Beside you, Mingyu is biting on his lips, trying not to laugh at your expense. “What year is this, 1950? And he’s not my boyfriend. You know that.”

You can’t help the defensive edge that creeps into your voice. From where he’s plopped on the couch, Mingyu reaches up for your hand, tugging. You let him pull you into the space next to him and he rubs a soothing hand across your shoulders before taking his hand away. It’s a silent, quick moment - easy to miss if you aren’t looking. But you are looking, always, and you wonder if he even knows he does this - reads your moods, rushes to fix you. 

Unbothered by your ruffled feathers, Jeonghan asks lightly, “So, are you seeing him again, or…?”

The bastard hasn’t even looked away from the television screen.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” you grumble at him.

Now he looks over at you, smiling beatifically, innocently. “There’s my Sunshine.”

“Fuck off.”

“Well?” Mingyu asks from next to you, eyebrows raised. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. You can tell the jackals are in a mood tonight.

Jeonghan’s face splits into a delighted grin. “A third date? My goodness.”

“We all know what happens on a third date,” Mingyu says sagely, and you punch him in the thigh, extra hard since you can only reach him and not Jeonghan too.

Wonwoo’s voice comes from down the hallway. “Leave Sunny alone, you guys.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Leave Sunny alone.”

Mingyu stretches over your lap to reach for the remote. It brings his torso almost flush against yours and you feel your face heat. 

“I was watching that,” Jeonghan complains before Mingyu even presses anything.

“Sunny and I are watching a movie,” Mingyu says flatly. “Go watch on your laptop if you care so much.”

Jeonghan reaches towards your couch lazily and slaps at the air like he can’t be assed to work any harder to hit his roommate. “You’re cranky today,” he observes, the arm not trying (sort of) to slap Mingyu’s leg folded behind his head. “Why might that be?”

Mingyu doesn’t answer him, just settles back next to you, his arm against yours, and starts scrolling through movie options.

He still hasn’t picked one when Wonwoo appears in the living room’s doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, his LED headset looped around his neck and his eyes on his phone.

“What are we watching?” he asks absently.

“Nothing, apparently,” Jeonghan quips.

Beside you, Mingyu growls a little.

Unphased - this is so normal for them, it would be more alarming if they weren’t pissing each other off - you look up and Wonwoo and say, “I didn’t think you’d emerge tonight.”

“I’m heading right back in,” he admits. “Hydration break. Anyway - question. What’s everyone’s plans for the holidays?”

Mingyu stops scrolling, pausing to think. 

“I’ll be home,” Jeonghan says, meaning his hometown.

“Me, too,” Mingyu adds. “I’m leaving on Sunday. Next Sunday, I mean.”

Wonwoo lets out a little sigh. “Okay. My folks were asking when I was coming. Sunny, you’re going home, too?”

“Uh, no, actually,” you admit. “I was staying here.”

You feel rather than see your friends share a glance. 

“I can stay, then,” Wonwoo says, a bit tightly - you can tell that wasn’t the plan. “So you aren’t alone.”

“No,” you protest. “I’m perfectly fine being here by myself, you know that.”

“Sunny Baby is an indoor cat,” Mingyu notes, and you bump him with your elbow. 

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Plus, I think Daeyoung will be around, so I won’t be alone the whole time anyway.”

Mingyu’s eyes bore into the side of your face, but you don’t look at him; if it’s pity he’s leveling at you, you don’t want it. 

“If you’re sure,” Wonwoo says, and when you assure him you do, he vanishes into the kitchen and then back into his room. Mingyu clicks on a movie and you settle in, eventually getting sleepy and shifting sideways, your head resting comfortably on his unfairly sculpted shoulder. He shifts to let you get more comfortable, and the night passes as simply and pleasantly as hundreds before.

When the movie ends, you pick up the bottles and cans from the coffee table while Mingyu does a quick lap of the apartment, turning off lights and making sure doors are locked. You meet outside the bathroom - occupied by Jeonghan - both waiting your turn to brush your teeth and whatever else before bed. 

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says softly, something tentative in his voice, and you look up at him, heart suddenly thumping. He’s looking at you earnestly in the dim light from the bedrooms down the hall, something you’re not sure you can name on his face. It’s almost pleading, but that doesn’t make sense. “Are you sure you don’t want to come home with me for the holidays? My family would love to have you - they’re obsessed with you, you know that.”

Your heart calms. “It’s really okay,” you promise. “But thanks for checking.”

The bathroom door opens and Jeonghan slips by, leaving a wave of toothpaste-mint in his wake. 

“You go ahead,” Mingyu says.

“You were in line first,” you argue.

He rolls his eyes but knows how stubborn you are, so he disappears into the bathroom. You lean your butt against the kitchen table and check your phone for the first time in a while.

Daeyoung had texted shortly after he drove away - probably as soon as he got home.

[11:24pm] Daeyoung: I had a really good time tonight. Looking forward to next week :]

[12:51am] You: me too ☺️

The bathroom door opens and you turn off your phone screen with a click, bidding Mingyu goodnight as you slide into the bathroom’s light.

–

January 

New Year’s Eve

Roomies 💕

[11:13pm] (jeong)Han Solo: sunny where’d you end up tonight?

[11:13pm] You: i’m with the girliesss!!! where are you guys

[11:13pm] Cinnamingyu: sunnnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy baby baby baby

[11:13pm] You: yyyeeesssss??

[11:14pm] (jeong)Han Solo: we’re downtown. mingyu cant come to the phone right now but i think he wants you to come hang out with us

[11:14pm] You: lmao nooooo he didnt even make it to midnight??? thats sad, kim mingyu

[11:16pm] Wonuuu: u ever think about that phrase “can’t come to the phone”… from an era in which you had to walk to the family’s landline phone in the kitchen or whatever… none of us were even alive for that

[11:16pm] You: wow apparently you guys are having a much better time than me

[11:16pm] (jeong)Han Solo: only wonwoo lol ok be safe and have fun!! see you at home

–

[11:14pm] Cinnamingyu: come out!!

[11:14pm] You: i am out! Lol

[11:15am] Cinnamingyu: you know what i mean

[11:16am] You: im sorry :( but we’re across town and by the time we got there we’d miss the countdown

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: ok 🙁

[11:16am] You: don’t pout!!! i’ll see you at home tomorrow and we can hang out all day

[11:16am] Cinnamingyu: not the same!

[11:17am] You: ok lets take a shot together!!

[11:17am] Cinnamingyu: ???

[11:17am] You: go order one and tell me when you’re ready!!

[11:18am] Cinnamingyu: lmao on it 🫡

[11:28am] Cinnamingyu: ok im ready

[11:28am] You: ok when you get this count to three and take your shot! 

[11:29am] You: geonbae or cheers or salute or whatever

[11:29am] Cinnamingyu: or whatever 🙄 

[11:29am] You: 😘

New Year’s Day

Roomies 💕

[12:00am] You: HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES OF MY LIFE LET THIS BE THE BESTEWT YEAR FOR US EVER EVER EVR!!!!!

[12:00am] Wonuuu: happy new year sunny 🙂

[12:00am] (jeong)Han Solo: happy new yearrr 😽

[4:09am] You: home safe ♥️ 

[10:33am] Wonuuu: i’ll be home tomorrow sunny

[12:42pm] (jeong)Han Solo: i’ll be back tonight but probably not until after dinner

[12:42pm] You: ok! i’ll be here

[3:17pm] (jeong)Han Solo: is mingyu alive???

[3:17pm] You: lol yeah he’s home. he’s just… not in the best shape asfjkasfhaio

[12:00am] Cinnamingyu: happy new year sunny baby 🩷

[12:01am] You: happy new year best friend!!!!!!! ily ily ily!!!!

[12:32am] Cinnamingyu: you kno you could still meet us out nw

[11:23am] Cinnamingyu: can u open the front door… my head hurts too bad to make the keys work

You stagger to the apartment’s front door, eyes squinting against the harsh daylight streaming into the living room and kitchen area. When you unlock and pull open the door, Mingyu almost collapses on top of you.

“Get up,” you groan, shuffling backwards. “You’re too heavy, I can’t hold you!”

“Shhhh,” he whispers, but rights himself to standing. 

You stand there for a minute, both of you just grappling with the horrible reality of being awake and upright and, god, very hungover.

“I need to lay down,” Mingyu says finally, very clearly, like he’s had a sudden burst of self-preservation.

“Come on,” you wave at him vaguely and make your way back to bed. You collapse right into the spot you’d vacated when he texted, pulling the blankets up to your ears and closing your eyes, waiting for the bed to dip beside you. 

It doesn’t.

You open your eyes again. “Mingyu?”

He appears wordlessly in your doorway, then makes his way over to his side of the bed. The empty side of your bed. Not his. You have to stop thinking that way.

You’re puzzled, but then he leans over and presses a cold water bottle into your hand. Despite his whining, he was still trying to take care of you. 

“Did you take any pain killer?” you mumble. 

“Probably more than was actually advisable,” he admits, twisting his own water open and drinking noisily. You don’t see a problem with this - Mingyu is gigantic, and you can imagine his dosing needs would reflect it.

“Okay,” you say with a little sigh. “We’ll sleep for a while and then maybe we can try to eat.”

“God, don’t talk about food,” he moans, taking one of your extra pillows and covering his face.

You chuckle lightly, and then roll to hide your face somewhere near his bicep, breathing in his familiar cinnamon scent and matching your breaths to his until you slip back under. The millionth time you’ve fallen asleep next to your best friend, and you’re already eagerly looking ahead to a million and one.

You’re awakened by the sound of someone retching in the bathroom, clear on the other side of the apartment. You scrabble for and glance at your phone - hours have passed. The light in your bedroom has slipped closer to golden as mid-afternoon begins to wane. You sit up tentatively; this time there’s no wave of dizziness as a punishment for being vertical, though your head still pounds. 

You drink some of the water Mingyu brought you, answer a text from Jeonghan, then decide to go make sure Mingyu’s alive.

“You need anything?” you call through the door. You can hear the sink run, and the door opens. 

“A lobotomy,” he deadpans. He looks miserable, frown pronounced and eyes puffy. 

“Get back in bed,” you tell him gently, and he ambles off towards your room. You detour into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. It might not save him, but you could use some caffeine. 

While it brews, you poke your head into your bedroom. Mingyu is back in your bed, curled up pitifully, that pouting frown still prevalent on his face. 

“What time did you take something?” you ask him.

“Like ten thirty,” he mumbles into your pillow. 

You glance at the clock. “You can have more,” you tell him, and head back across the apartment to pilfer through the medicine cabinet. 

With the pill bottle in hand, you stop in the kitchen long enough to pour yourself a cup of coffee. Carefully balancing so as not to spill, you bring it into the bedroom, placing it carefully on your nightstand and then nudging Mingyu’s shoulder. 

He whines a response. 

“I have drugs for you,” you tell him, and he holds up an open palm without lifting his face.  

You drop the medicine into his hand and get comfy back in your spot, even though you think you’re done sleeping for now. Beside you, Mingyu takes the pills and settles back into sleep. He’s snoring before you can even choose a show to watch on your phone. 

You look over at him fondly, disaster that he is. Then you settle in deeper, content to let his warmth radiate over to you, content to be by his side.

–

[12:02am] Daeyoung: happy new year! wishing you luck and happiness ☺️

[4:23pm] You: thank you!!! to you as well!!

–

February

Valentine’s Day is an emotional minefield. You don’t know if you want to lean into the bitter and single thing, or if you want to go all Gal-entines and pamper your friends, or if you want to just keep your head down and treat the day like any other fuck-ass Tuesday in winter.

The universe surprises you with a secret fourth option. Or, rather, Daeyoung does. 

You’ve lost track counting your dates with him at this point - you are simply dating. Neither of you has pushed for a what is this conversation, and you’re relieved. You like Daeyoung, you like the time you spend together, and you’d be sad if things ended. But at the same time, you don’t feel things getting deeper, and if he pushed you to make this serious, to put parameters on it, you’re not sure how you’d feel. 

Something inside you keeps it light - enough so that you don’t even think of doing anything for him to celebrate the holiday.

Apparently, you’re an asshole. 

Sometime after ten, your office’s secretary calls you, asking you to come up to reception for a minute. You’re suspicious, but you don’t do the mental math about what day it is until you turn the corner and see the small vase of roses - three of them, arranged with some baby’s breath and a few other fillers you can’t name - sitting on the reception counter.

“These got delivered for you,” she tells you, and it’s clear on her face that she’s dying for you to spill. “Are they from that guy? The tall one who looks like a movie star?”

This would annoy you if you weren’t so used to it. Everyone asks you if you’re with Mingyu - they never understand why you’re not when you two are attached at the hip.

It had happened once - just a kiss at a frat party, in the middle of the dance floor. You’d both been drinking, of course, and pressed close together to dance, his chest against your back and his hands on your hips and then you’d turned and tipped your chin up and his sparkling eyes had gone molten before he’d kissed you and your whole world had been swept away -

And you’d been interrupted, had been literally pulled away to deal with some drama happening in the kitchen, and somehow… you’d never talked about it. It never happened again.

Sometimes, you wonder if you only dreamed it. It wouldn’t surprise you.

But, no. Your imagination is good, but it’s not good enough to come up with the minute details of how his pecs had felt under your hands, how his fingers had felt pressed into the small of your back, how he had almost sighed into your mouth when it opened for him, how he had tasted a bit like cinnamon, courtesy of the fireball shots the frat was giving out like candy.

Anyway. Life goes on, right?

“No,” you tell the secretary quickly, because you know the roses aren’t from Mingyu. Even if he’d done something today, as your friend, he knows you aren’t much of a roses girl. “We’re just friends.” You will the words to leave your mouth without leaving ashes in their wake.

You reach for the small card tied around the thinnest part of the vase to see who did send them. 

Thought you deserved something pretty today. Don’t freak out. :] - Daeyoung

The secretary is still watching you, harmlessly curious. 

“It’s just a guy I’ve been seeing,” you say. “It’s not serious.”

“Wow,” she says, eyeing the simple arrangement. “Looks like he thinks it’s a little serious - or that it could be.”

“That’s probably true,” you muse out loud, taking the arrangement back to your own cubicle and setting it on your desk. You snap a photo and text it to Daeyoung with a thank you and a row of sobbing emojis. Then you stand behind your chair, eyes on the red petals, your hand pressed to your mouth, processing.

You didn’t expect to feel like this. A fluttering, a rush of excitement. Even though you aren’t into roses, specifically, the thought is very nice. And no one has thought of you, not like this, in a very long time. 

When you get home, the apartment is dark and empty. You wonder if any of the guys have dates tonight, or if they’re working late, or with family. You set the roses on the kitchen table, hang up your coat, and then shoot the grouptext a quick “where is everyone?”. Then you head into your room, eager to take a quick shower and change into something comfy.

You freeze when you flick on your bedroom light.

The clutter on your small desk has been pushed to the side, and a clear vase holds a thick bouquet of sunflowers - your favorite. 

You hear yourself gasp, the sound echoing through your head on a loop as you stare at the bright, yellow blooms. You step forward on shaky legs, reaching for the tiny card that’s slipped under the vase.

Sunny flowers for Sunny Baby. Love you. - M

The tears come with such unexpected force that you almost laugh through the third sob. You can barely see through the sudden stream of tears, can hear yourself struggling to inhale. You hurry to shut your bedroom door, locking it for good measure, and then those shaking legs of yours give up, and you sink to your knees and weep into your hands, trying to muffle the sounds, just in case anyone comes home.

You cry so hard it makes your abs hurt, makes the muscles in your face feel stretched, nearly makes you gag. You haven’t cried like this since undergrad.

Because he loves you, but he doesn’t love you, and even though you’ve been pretending for so long it’s as unconscious as breathing, it doesn’t shatter you any less. 

Because he’s perfect, and he’s yours, but somehow you still don’t have him, and in the meantime no one else will ever be enough -  just for not being him.

Because being thought of earlier by Daeyoung was nice, but it is so much better to be known, like this. Mingyu knows you don’t like roses. Mingyu knows your favorites. Mingyu knows you. 

And it’s a waste. It’s all for fucking nothing.

When the tears start to settle and you can breathe a little better, you push yourself back to your feet. You listen at your bedroom door and don’t hear anyone, so you hurry across the apartment and into the bathroom, where you blow your nose and splash your face with cold water. 

When you come out again, Jeonghan is in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, his back to you. When he turns, he freezes, his face dropping. You must be puffy and red, still.

“Hey,” you reply meekly. 

“Oh, Sunny,” he says mournfully, stepping closer. “I told him he shouldn’t, but he asked why not, he’s your friend, and I couldn’t say -”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah,” you mutter. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

He watches you carefully, probably trying to gauge if you’re lying. Then he spots the roses and lights up. 

“Well, well,” he says, a sly smile showing up on his face. “Those are nice.”

“Yeah,” you say again, the only word in your arsenal. “They are. I, um, I think I’m gonna shower. Do you need the bathroom first?” 

Under the spray of hot water, you cry a little more, like an aftershock hit you. It’s quiet this time, and you try to shoulder through it as you condition your hair, ready to put this whole episode behind you once you step out into the chilly bathroom air again.

When you emerge, Jeonghan is on the couch. By the sounds coming from down the hallway, Wonwoo has just gotten home and is dumping the contents of his life onto his bedroom floor. Jeonghan opens his mouth to say something, but you lift a fluffy-bathrobe-clad arm and silently shush him. 

“It’s fine,” you say again, firmly. 

Jeonghan had been your friend first, back in undergrad. You’d brought him into the friend group the same way Mingyu had brought Wonwoo. The four of you had worked cohesively as a friend-and-roommate unit for a long time, but sometimes those old alliances seemed to matter more than others. Jeonghan would never cross the line without your permission, would never tell your secrets if you weren’t willing to tell them yourself. Wonwoo, on the other hand, was much more likely to open his mouth - especially if he thought he was helping. 

The front door bursts open, and Mingyu enters the apartment in a cacophony of noise and dropped items, oranges spilling from the bag in his arms and rolling across the floor. You move to pick a few up as he puts the bag of groceries down and pulls his boots off.

“Sunny!” he says, all excitement, eyes shining. “Did you like my gift?”

You can’t even look at Jeonghan, turning your back to him completely as you hold out the oranges you’d collected. Mingyu takes them, but watches you eagerly, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I loved it.”

His smile triples.

You were wrong when you said Mingyu was the sun. Mingyu is an avalanche. Rushing, rolling, thundering over and through you until there’s nothing left but a glinting field of ice and silence. Nothing else matters - nothing else exists - in his wake.

“You better watch out, Mingyu,” Jeonghan says from the couch, and your blood runs as cold as that field of ice, because you know he’s about to start some shit. “Sunny got flowers from her lover today. That guy’s coming for your woman.”

You’re opening your mouth to reprimand him - tell him to shut up, or something - but Mingyu beats you to it.

“Sunny’s not mine,” he says simply. 

All that ice evaporates in an instant like it was never there.

“My lover,” you echo with a frown, when you can speak again. “Don’t say it like that, you weirdo.”

“Well, isn’t he?” Jeonghan asks innocently.

You head for your bedroom with a roll of your eyes. “Goodnight, Jeonghan.”

“That means yes,” he sing-songs, and you slam your door shut.

Wonwoo’s voice floats through the door. “Who pissed off Sunshine?”

Mingyu’s grumble responds, “Who do you think?”

–

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unspooling with cricket song and a smattering of flickering stars above you. His arm touches yours and you can feel his chest shift as he breathes deeply.

You feel content - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those blinking stars. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your light goes out, just like theirs. 

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek. 

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You startle awake, heart pounding, and you’re immediately furious. 

“Fuck,” you hiss, punching your mattress once. 

The pathetic truth is you dream about that night in undergrad all the time - you and Mingyu on one of the last nights before summer break, leaving a party together and laying in the grass behind the advising department building watching the constellations rotate above you. 

The pathetic truth is the dream never follows the script, always turning the scene sideways, making it something different than what it was.

The pathetic truth is that Mingyu had been blacked out, more fucked up than you’d ever seen him, and you’d laid in the grass because you physically couldn’t keep him upright any further than that and you’d had to text Wonwoo to come help you. 

You hadn’t said anything to Mingyu - at least not something meaningful. You might have said please don’t puke on me, or god, you weigh a ton, or how many jaeger bombs did you do? 

He had said he loved you - had slurred it, eyes closed. 

You had laughed, even though it had sent a dagger through your chest. “Okay, Romeo,” you’d teased, and checked your phone to see if Wonwoo was on his way to help. 

“I do,” he’d insisted, one hand patting the grass next to him like he was trying to find you. “Sunny, I love you.”

You didn’t know how he meant it - still don’t know, to this day, because you don’t think he even remembered saying it and you’d been too afraid to bring it up.

What were you supposed to say? Hey, when you were blacked out last night, you said you love me… do you mean like… platonically… or…? 

God. The idea of it is just as humiliating now, years later, as it had been in the weeks that followed that night. And though he’s said it regularly since then - like on this fucking card with the sunflowers - he never said it like that, and you never pushed it. 

Now, awake and furious and sad at three in the morning, you grab your phone and climb out of bed. 

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s only making this worse for you. But you make your way on light steps through the dark and silent apartment to Mingyu’s door and push it open.

Is it mithridatism, this thing you do? Microdosing on the poison so that a full dose won’t kill you? No, that isn’t right. A full dose of Mingyu wouldn’t kill you. It’s an absence of Mingyu that you need protected from.

You climb into his bed and poke at his calves with your toes until he grunts as he wakes. Then, as he gathers his senses, he rolls to look at you over his shoulder.

“Bad dream?” he asks, voice kind of breathy with sleep.

“Mhm.”

He rolls the rest of the way, lifts his arm so you can scoot a little closer. You breathe easier immediately. It makes no sense that the thing that hurts you is also the only thing that makes you feel better. 

“Won’t your lover object to you getting in bed with me?” he asks, and you can hear the edge in his voice as clear as day.

You let out a single, wry ha. He’s got a point, but Daeyoung isn’t your boyfriend, you aren’t exclusive, and what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Nah,” you say easily. “I’m not his.”

-

March

March can’t make up its mind if it’s winter or spring. Warm days lull you into a false sense of security, and then a blistering cold rushes in just to call you a fool.

You’re the last one to get to the bar on Friday night after work, and you have to stand awkwardly next to the booth the guys have staked out and unwrap yourself - hat, scarf, gloves, puffer coat, big heavy sweater - before you can actually slide into the empty spot next to Mingyu.

“Hi bestie,” he says, immediately draping his arm behind your shoulders, resting on the back of the wooden bench. “How was your day?”

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” you answer.

“Fuck Marcus in Accounting,” your roommates all answer solemnly, because this is a common gripe. 

“Fireball and ginger ale it is, then,” Mingyu says, and climbs over you to head to the bar, his own empty beer glass in hand. When he slides the cocktail glass in front of you and scoots back to his original spot, you fill the guys in on Marcus’s Bullshit of the Day. 

“And then,” you finish the story, “I was like yeah, I know you did, Marcus, because she blind-copied me on her reply and you should have seen the color his face turned so I think it’s fair to say I won this round.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t all scared of you,” Wonwoo remarks. 

“Marcus is,” you say, glowering at your now-empty cocktail glass. “That’s why he’s such a dick. He hates that he’s intimidated.”

Mingyu’s arm has slid down from the back of the bench and rests lightly across your shoulder by this point, and he gives you a playful squeeze into his side as he laughs. 

He starts telling a story next, and you listen as you slip your phone out and check your texts. Daeyoung had texted you a while ago, and you shoot him a quick answer that you’re out with your roommates for Friday drinks, and then dial back into the conversation. 

When Mingyu’s glass is empty again, you rise, taking the empties up to the bar and signalling for another of each. While you wait, elbows on the bar, you check your phone again. Daeyoung had texted back, asking where you guys were drinking.

You hesitate. The idea of incorporating Daeyoung into the group makes you nervous. Behind you, you can hear Mingyu yapping a thousand miles a minute, and Jeonghan’s distinctive heh heh heh in answer. It’s not that you don’t think the guys will be nice… it just feels like a big move. 

It might be nice to have him there, though - someone on your side when Jeonghan and Mingyu gang up on you and Wonwoo is too in his own world to be effective back-up, someone to hold your hand and get your drinks, someone to be in your own private little bubble with when the conversation ebbs and flows away from topics you can engage with. 

You send him back “just a little place by the apartment!” which is technically true, and then grab the refreshed drinks for you and Mingyu. 

The guys are getting up, making noise about a just-vacated darts board, so you swivel and turn to follow them, a cold drink in each hand.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu tells you, half an hour later, bending down low so he can talk close to your ear over the loud music, “you have to put more muscle into it. You have to throw it like you want to pierce it.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious, actually!” you tell him cheerfully, and down the rest of your drink, pushing the empty glass into his giant hand. His turn. 

He shoots you a grin so sharp and devilish that it makes your whole body fight a shudder, and then he disappears off to the bar. 

You heckle Jeonghan through his turn (unsuccessfully - he’s way better at this than you) and then glance at the bar to see if the bartenders have gotten to Mingyu yet in the crowd. He’s facing you, his arms crossed, that same devilish smile on his face. He leans sideways on the bar, where your drink and his own beer sit sweating, forgotten. 

The girl he’s smiling at has her back to you, which is a miracle, because if she’d been able to see your face fall, she probably would have back-pedaled out of the conversation immediately - it would be impossible for her not to see that she was walking into a flashing neon sign screaming this situation is a mess!!!!

When she laughs, throwing her head back, and reaches a hand out to touch his forearm, you feel the whole bar swoop sideways around you. You’re fumbling for your phone, even as you hear Mingyu’s answering laugh cut through all the loud music and conversations filling the space, even as you watch through your periphery as he gives her a return nudge to the shoulder, playful, that smile only growing.

You’re going to be sick.

You shoot Daeyoung a text - sorry, I should have told you which bar. I’m leaving now though. Do you want to come get me? We could chill for a little? - and then you push your way through the bar, not even bothering to tell Jeonghan and Wonwoo goodbye. You make an extra effort to skirt the opposite wall as the bar, hoping you get out without Mingyu spotting you. 

There’s no way you could fake it right now. Zero chance. If he came after you, it would all be out in the open.

Daeyoung answers you almost immediately - no worries! sure, send me your location. you want to hang at my place? 

Outside, the cold air assaults you. You immediately hesitate, wishing you’d grabbed your coat. You’ll get pneumonia waiting for Daeyoung without it.

You’re saved the trouble of going back in - the door opens and someone comes out after you. But it isn’t Mingyu - it’s Jeonghan, giving you the heaviest side-eye you’ve ever seen from him, your coat in his hands.

“Thank you,” you breathe when he’s close enough, taking the coat and sliding it over your arms. “It’s freezing.”

“Sunny,” he says, and something in his voice makes you pause. “I think we should talk.”

You cover your face with one hand, embarrassed and spent and tired. “About what?” you ask flatly, just to buy yourself a second. You know the answer. Of course you do.

He levels you with a look. “This can’t continue,” he says firmly. “For you, or for him, or for me and Wonwoo.”

You scoff. “What do you two have to do with it?” 

You’ve never seen him this serious, and it scares you a little. “Do you think it’s easy for me to watch you get hurt?”

You lower your gaze to the ground and don’t answer this; it feels rhetorical. 

“But you’re right - it’s not about us. It’s about you. Something has to give,” he says gently. “Either face it and get your answer, or let it go.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue.

“Yes, it is that simple,” he retorts. “It’s just scary. But that’s not the same thing.”

“I can’t tell him,” you say, because it’s true. You can’t. You can’t. “What if it messed up everything for all of us?”

What if you lost him completely? What if he moved out? What if he stopped talking to you? 

Jeonghan doesn’t reply to this at first, he just watches you carefully, then tucks a long strand of dark hair behind his ear. 

“You can,” he says finally, still gentle. “But… if you won’t… then you have to let him go.”

Your stomach drops at the words, even though this is a truth you’ve been aware of for ages, have been doing your best to avoid. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” you whisper. And it’s true - loving Mingyu feels as instinctual as your heartbeat, intrinsically part of who you are. How can you separate it out, shut it down? 

“Stop sharing a bed with him,” Jeonghan suggests, and it’s so simple and straight-forward and correct that you can’t think of a single argument. “Quit texting him but ignoring everyone else. Stop cuddling with him on the couch after work. Quit-”

“Alright, I get it,” you snap, the defensiveness rising up again like muddy waters. 

“I’m not sure you do,” he says, and the gentleness is gone from his tone; you’ve moved into the Tough Love section of the lecture, apparently. “You can’t keep playing house with him, pretending you’re together, and then falling apart every time he makes it clear that it isn’t real. You’ll never feel better like this. It will never change, Sunny. You’ll be like this, forever. Is that what you want?”

Your throat is tight and sharp, and you blink quickly, eyes on the ground again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he says it like he aches. Maybe he means it. “You could talk to him, you could at least see what he says -”

“No,” you interrupt. “No. I can’t do that.”

He shrugs, big and exaggerated. “Then move on. There are other people in the world who’d be happy to love you the right way. You can’t give any of them a proper chance if you’re holding it against them that they aren’t Mingyu.”

Like the one you ignored all night, who is still on his way to pick your ass up right now… 

You push your hands against your eyes like you can block out the truth of what he’s saying, but you don’t say anything.

Jeonghan reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “I’m gonna go back in,” he says, gentle again. “It’s freezing out here. Just… think about it.”

“I’m thinking,” you say dryly. 

He nods, then disappears back into the bar, the wave of sound crashing and fading as the door opens and closes. 

You stay outside and wait for Daeyoung’s car, your hands going numb from the cold. You run the whole thing over and over in your head, replay Jeonghan’s words, daydream a hundred conversations with Mingyu each with different endings. 

You think maybe you should take Jeonghan’s advice - put some physical distance between you and Mingyu, just as a starting point. 

You hate the idea of it. But you know he’s right.

When Daeyoung pulls up, you slide into the passenger seat and tell him thank you, leaning over to kiss his cheek. He smiles at you, all sweet, and then whisks you away. Halfway to his place, he glances over at you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he observes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you lie, and then instantly feel bad for it. “Just… argued with my roommate. I’m kind of cranky.”

He reaches out and squeezes your knee once, reassuringly. “Well, you’re welcome to stay with me,” he says, and when you whip around to look at him, he laughs. “I wasn’t being presumptuous. I just meant if you needed some space from them, you’re welcome. That’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” you repeat, settling back against the seat. “We’ll see.”

You keep your eyes on the window for the rest of the drive. 

You wonder if Mingyu brought that girl home, and then you shove that thought away, because you’re letting him go, starting tonight, and those thoughts aren’t going to serve you anymore.

And then you wonder the same thing again five minutes later.

–

April 

Winter softens, the temperature sturdies itself, and the season forms solidly into rain-logged spring. 

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu sings. Even on the greyest, soggiest days you turn to him like a plant turns to sun. “I’m bored.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you quip. 

He drapes himself over you in retaliation, long arms and legs hanging heavy towards the floor as his torso smothers your face, drowning in you in his cinnamon-tinged scent.

You protest wordlessly and shove at him, and he laughs, his abs working near your chest with the motion.

“Entertain me,” he whines.

Things have been different - weird different, sometimes even bad different - for a few weeks now, all because of Jeonghan. You choose to blame him, anyway. 

What he said to you plays in your head on loop all day every day, and suddenly you don’t know how to act right with Mingyu, causing you to overcorrect and swerve wildly. Sometimes you’re spending the entire day with him, touching and talking and leaning into it - then you think about it too hard and you spend the next two days icing him out. 

It’s confusing for both of you. You can tell he notices, can tell he’s baffled by the change. More than once you’ve caught him looking at you like you’re a problem to solve - that face he makes when something isn’t working, or he’s got an equation of some sort to work out. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make you feel bad about it, doesn’t confront you, just takes what you’ll give him with a smile.

You haven’t gone to his room in the middle of the night since your talk with Jeonghan, either. It feels like quitting something. The withdrawal eats at your nerves, the cravings taking over until you can’t focus on anything else. More than one night since then you’ve laid awake, staring at your ceiling, heart pounding as you argue with yourself - just go, you’ll sleep and you’ll feel better waging war against Jeonghan’s you can’t keep pretending you’re together and then falling apart when he makes it clear that it isn’t real. 

Each time, you’d ended up staying in your own bed. Jeonghan is right. You knew it when he said it, and you know it now. You have to let go if you’re ever going to be happy. You can’t keep living in the shadows of Mingyu’s life, waiting for him to come give you just a slice of himself and pretending to be sated by it.

“I can’t entertain you, you pain in my ass,” you say, as he allows you to roll his heavy body off of yours and onto the other side of your bed. “I have a date with Daeyoung in like an hour. I need to go shampoo.”

“Booooo,” he complains. Then he props himself up on one elbow and gives you that familiar look again - the math problem look. Not calculating, exactly, but definitely evaluating. “You’ve been seeing him for a while,” he remarks, and you can hear the effort to keep his tone casual, which makes you wonder what he’s hiding.

“Like four months,” you say, not sure if this is agreeing with him or not.

He nods, then rolls to face your ceiling, arms behind his head. It does disgusting things to his biceps, and you look away, sitting up and reaching for your phone to check the time.

“How’s that going?” he asks, still all casual. 

“Good,” you say airily, still not looking at him.

“Sunny,” he says, a bit more seriously, and it’s enough to make you glance his way. He’s facing you, arms still behind his head, but watching. “Why won’t you talk to me about it?”

Ice flows through your veins so quickly that you have the urge to blow on your fingers to warm them. Talk to me about it. You take a calming breath, remind yourself that he’s asking about Daeyoung, not about your feelings in general.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “Just feels weird.” 

“It didn’t used to,” he says, and you know exactly what he means. You’d always talked to him about anything - including boys and crushes. 

He doesn’t ask so what’s different now, but you know the answer anyway. You’re afraid you’ll say anything, and Mingyu - who knows you better than anyone else - will hear everything you aren’t trying to say. How you feel about him, how you’ve been trying to create distance and boundaries, how it’s been unsuccessful because you have no sense of consistency, how you can’t seem to accept that you don’t get to have him, how Daeyoung is so nice and fun and cute but still can’t silence the urge behind your ribs that screams for Mingyu.

“Yeah,” you sigh, acknowledging that he’s right - that you used to tell him everything. “I don’t know, Mingyu. It’s good. I like him. Like… I don’t necessarily think he’s The One or anything, but I’d be upset if we broke up?” 

Mingyu nods, something complicated on his face. “Well,” he says finally, “That’s good. I’m glad it’s going well. You deserve it.”

There’s something flat in his voice, and you stand because you can’t just sit there next to him right now. 

“Thanks,” you say, because you don’t know what else to say. “Well… I’m gonna go shower so I’m not late.” You grab the few things you need from your room and pause in your doorway. He’s pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping slowly and his eyes on the screen, and you carry on across the hallway, leaving him behind.

The way you need to. The way you’re trying to. 

Daeyoung takes you to dinner, making you laugh so hard you have to wipe under your eyes, and listening intently when you bitch about work (and, yes, Marcus in Accounting). 

After, as you walk along the river, looking out at the lights, Daeyoung reaches for your hand, and you link fingers. 

This is what you need - to lean into it with someone, to really try with someone. Maybe that will ease this process of shifting Mingyu to the background. Maybe you just need to try.

Like he can read your mind, Daeyoung slows, turning to look at you. He says your name hesitantly, and you match his slowed pace, waiting.

“We’ve been doing this for a while,” he says, kind of hesitantly, “and I kind of wanted to see if we’re on the same page.”

When you just look at him, he forges ahead, the words rushing out of him now. “I really like you, and I really like this… and I was wondering how you’d feel about… maybe being more official?”

You feel yourself flush, a smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He smiles back, relief washing over his face. “Yeah,” he says, much more confident now. “Yes, I am.”

You lick your lips, suddenly unsure. “Daeyoung,” you say, and you watch his face fall. You hurry to amend - “No, I’m not saying no! It’s just… I don’t know… I feel like we’ve kept things pretty… light. And I just worry that if we get more serious and you see more of me… you might…”

You trail off. He watches you intently, and then finishes for you, “Change my mind?”

You nod meekly. What if you can’t do it - what if you can’t push Mingyu out of your head and heart, what if you can’t start fresh with someone? Daeyoung has been wonderful to you. He doesn’t deserve to get hurt. He doesn’t deserve to be second choice, doesn’t deserve to be a consolation prize. 

You can’t say yes if that’s what this will be. You need to be sure you’re all in, you need to be sure you want him and not just the fresh start he represents.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say instead, quietly. 

He considers this, watching you carefully. “Why do you think you will?”

It’s a fair question. “I’m… trying to get over someone,” you force yourself to say. He deserves to know what he’s walking into. 

You watch his face for any change in expression. His expression does ripple a little, and then he licks his lips and asks, “And how’s that going?”

You scuff the toe of one shoe absently along the pavement. “Goes better when you’re around,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be… like… using you, I guess? It feels… unfair.”

He nods. “I appreciate that,” he says, looking away from you, at the river. He’s quiet for a while and then asks, “Are you into this? With me?”

“Yes,” you say emphatically, because despite the Mingyu of it all, it’s true. “I just don’t want you to end up with regrets.”

He smiles kind of ruefully. “Thanks for being honest,” he says, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper. You really hope you aren’t breaking up right now, but you wouldn’t blame him if he called it off.

He lets out a long breath, very slowly, measured. “I’m thinking that no one can make promises at the beginning of a relationship.”

Your stomach jolts, terrified, at the word. He continues, oblivious.

“But,” he says, “you just take it a day at a time. That’s all I’m asking for - just a day. And then maybe another. We can go from there.”

You consider this, that tiny smile returning. He waits for your answer.

“Okay,” you say finally. “Yeah. If you’re sure you want that, then… yes.”

“Yes?” he repeats, like he needs to be sure. He’s already grinning, despite the turn the conversation had taken on the way here.

You laugh, feeling suddenly shy. “Yeah. Yes.”

He kisses you next to the singing river, and later you take a selfie together beside a food cart. You post it to social media with a blue heart emoji for the caption. 

You swallow hard and swipe roughly to remove the notification when Mingyu likes the picture minutes later. 

–

May

“Kim Mingyu!” you bellow, scooping up an armload of shirts and socks from the living room floor. “Get your gross, sweaty clothes off of our shared couch! The hamper is like three feet away!”

“Yah,” he complains, coming to take the offending pile from you. “You never cared before!”

“Well now her boyfriend is coming over,” Jeonghan says, somehow making the word sound sleezy. “She wants it to be pretty in here.”

“I hate you both,” you say. “I only like Wonwoo. He’s my only friend. Wonwoo, you’re my only friend.”

Wonwoo gives you a very deadpan finger heart from his spot on the couch. 

Unfortunately, Jeonghan is kind of right. 

You’ve mostly spent time out with Daeyoung or at his place - mostly because he lives alone and you live with a cast of clowns. But he has come over a handful of times. Sometimes he’s only there long enough to stand awkwardly by the front door while you finish putting on jewelry and shoes before whisking you away; other times he’s stayed to eat take-away and watch a movie as the aforementioned clowns filter in and out, leaving snappy comments like use protection in their wake. 

Tonight’s the first time that the plan is for everyone to hang out. To say you’re nervous is an understatement, as evidenced by the uncharacteristic way you pace the house, adjusting items Daeyoung has already seen out of place as if it makes any difference.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu finally says, coming up and putting his hands on your shoulders, trying to still you. You pull back from his touch as gently as you can, trying to make that space with some subtly. “Why are you freaking out? He’s been here before.”

“Yeah, you’re right, why would I be nervous?” you ask sarcastically. “Why would I be nervous to have my boyfriend come over for games and movies with three notoriously very nice people who never make trouble?”

“Rude,” Wonwoo remarks from the couch.

“Not you, Wonwoo, you’re my only friend,” you tell him without even turning your head. You hear Jeonghan snort.

“You said three,” Mingyu points out seriously, stepping back from you like he silently got the memo about space. “That includes Wonwoo.”

“Fine, I retract my statement. Two people who make trouble, and then one person who knows how to be normal sometimes.”

A knock on the door interrupts you before anyone can push your buttons any further.

“Be nice,” you tell them sternly as you head to open the door. “Be normal. For the love of god, at least try.”

“She has no faith in us,” Jeonghan says sadly behind you. 

“We probably shouldn’t try Monopoly tonight,” Mingyu remarks, and you hate that he’s right. 

You all almost broke up over Monopoly, once. You never played again. 

“Yeah, put that one away,” you agree, as you pull the door open.

Daeyoung greets you with a smile and a small bouquet of flowers - nothing too fancy, just a little something. You pay for them with a smile and a kiss, lifting onto your tiptoes to reach his lips.

“Awwww, so cute,” Jeonghan coos from across the apartment.

“Jeonghan,” you say sharply. “What did we talk about?”

Daeyoung feigns a pout. “You don’t think we’re cute?”

You slap at his arm playfully and step back to let him in. You head to the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers, listening as the men all exchange heys and how’ve you beens. 

You all settle for a variation of Rummy, sitting around the kitchen table with a smattering of snacks and drinks, chatting easily as you play.

At the end of the second hand, you ask, “Wait, what does that put me at?”

“Sixty-two,” Daeyoung says, just as Mingyu says, “Sixty-three.”

You look at them both blankly. You and numbers don’t vibe. 

Jeonghan looks at the little note on his phone where he was tallying scores. “Sixty-three,” he confirms.

“Whoops,” Daeyoung says apologetically. “I wasn’t trying to short you on points, sweetheart.”

All three of your roommates stiffen, and you feel your face heat. “No worries,” you say quickly, reaching to cut the deck for the next hand. “Whose turn is it?”

Be normal, be normal, be normal, you mentally beg the clowns. 

“I think it’s mine, sweetie-pie,” Jeonghan deadpans. You kick him ferociously under the table, not even trying to be subtle, and he swears.

“Knock it off,” you growl.

“You’re upsetting pookie, hyung,” Mingyu says somberly. 

“I hate all of you,” you whine. And then, on instinct, “Not you, Wonwoo.”

Daeyoung looks around the table, amused. “Is this always how it is around here?”

“Basically,” Wonwoo admits. “Just usually with a lot more -” He stops short, coughing, and reaches for his drink. You all wait, your heart thrumming nervously. You’re sure he’d been about to drop a crack about you and Mingyu’s physical affection. “A lot more yelling,” he finishes. “This is everyone on their best behavior, because Sunny threatened us.”

Daeyoung laughs, and you pray that the moment went unnoticed. You can tell Mingyu is a bit still on your other side, and if it was a month ago you would have reached over to him already, soothed a hand down his arm or pressed your cheek to his shoulder until he untensed. You rest your hands in your lap, instead, eyes on your cards.

After Rummy, which Jeonghan wins by a landslide, you all head to the couches for a movie.  Your roommates and you have always had unspoken “spots”, but Daeyoung’s presence throws the balance off entirely. Normally you’d be next to Mingyu but he takes Jeonghan’s spot, leaving the other guys to buffer as they try to figure out a new arrangement.

“Here,” Daeyoung says, tugging on your wrist until you settle on his lap, legs hanging just off the side of his own, “we can make room.”

Jeonghan tosses you a small blanket and a wink and settles in on the far side of your couch, giving the two of you lots of room. Wonwoo flicks off the overhead lights and settles next to Mingyu, the two of them awkwardly squished on the two-seater. But, blessedly, no one complains as the opening score emanates from the sound bar. 

As the movie begins, you relax, leaning sideways against Daeyoung’s chest, his arms looped around you. You stomp down on the intrusive thought that wants to compare how comfortable this is to how comfortable you’d been with Mingyu for past movie nights, internally hissing at your own brain for the unwelcome thought. 

“You good?” he murmurs, voice low, only for you, one hand rubbing the small of your back lightly.

“Mhm,” you assure him, reaching up to kiss the edge of his jaw, the only bit of him that you can reach comfortably. He smiles down at you, endeared, and then turns his attention to the television again. You can feel someone’s eyes on you, but you refuse to look, refuse to give attention to whoever is trying to heckle you right now. They can’t just let you live, huh?

Halfway through the movie, Mingyu stands, moving out of the way of the screen quickly and heading to the kitchen. You don’t lift your head from Daeyoung’s check, just watching him go through the corners of your eyes. 

“Anyone need a drink?” he calls from the kitchen. “Hyung? Sunny Baby?”

Daeyoung physically recoils, his head snapping back so he can look at you, wide-eyed. You look back at him the same way, feeling like you’ve been caught at something. 

“It’s just habit,” you say, quietly, and Jeonghan turns away, shifting awkwardly next to you two. “Old nickname from a million years ago.”

Daeyoung nods, but his face is still a bit stricken.

“Hello?” Mingyu calls from the kitchen. “Beer? Anyone?”

“No, thanks!” you call back, trying to force your voice to come out cheerful. 

When he returns, flopping unceremoniously into his spot next to Wonwoo, Daeyoung’s arms tighten around you. 

You close your eyes, frustrated. You hope you can salvage this. You’d been afraid from the jump that the Mingyu factor - even with the changes you’ve been purposely making, all that space - would damage what you have with Daeyoung, as effective as a drop of ink in a bucket of water. 

When the movie ends, Wonwoo gives a polite goodbye and vanishes into his lair and you lead Daeyoung back towards the front door. Behind you, you can hear the tell-tale clicks of bottles as Jeonghan and Mingyu start picking up the food and drinks. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, as soon as you have some semblance of privacy in the entryway. “I knew hanging out here was going to be a mess.”

Daeyoung manages a smile. “It wasn’t a mess,” he says. “I just didn’t realize how close you all were.”

He’s being too nice. You feel terrible. 

“I think we might get less close very soon if they can’t get their shit together,” you grumble, which makes him laugh, some of the tension alleviating. 

“Well,” Daeyoung says, suddenly turning conspiratory, “while your place was very fun… what would you say to some fun at my place now?”

You giggle. “I wouldn’t hate that plan,” you say coyly, smiling up at him. “Quieter, there. Fewer clowns.”

He laughs again, even as he reaches to tilt your jaw up, shuffling you backwards against the entryway wall as his lips find yours. 

As the kiss warms you, your hands finding the front of his shirt and bunching it into your fists, heat beginning to trickle out of hiding in your belly, you hear footsteps and an abrupt, “Oh - shit - sorry - my bad -”

“Your place,” you say against Daeyoung’s lips as Mingyu retreats back to the kitchen. You can practically feel through the wall how red his ears are. 

Daeyoung lets you out of his embrace and you hurry to your room to toss a few things together - toothbrush, phone charger, clothes - and come to get your jacket. 

“Bye, idiots!” you call through the apartment. Then, “Not you, Wonwoo!” and you close the door behind you with a giggle, following Daeyoung down the stairs.

On the other side of the wall, safely hidden in the kitchen, Mingyu stands staring blankly at the pantry, one hand over his mouth, still as a statue. What is this feeling churning in his gut? He feels sick, and he can’t put a name to it but he hates how it crawls through his system. 

Jeonghan appears next to him, placing two more dirty cups in the sink. He lets out a single, wry laugh when he sees Mingyu standing there.

“Yeah, dude,” he says easily as he leaves again. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

–

June

You and Mingyu lay side by side in the grass, a late spring night unfurling with distant thunder and a smattering of fireflies lazily drifting through the trees beyond the garden. His arm brushes yours and you can hear his breathing as he exhales slowly.

You feel happy - you feel infinite - you feel like one of those distant cracks of ferocious thunder. You feel like you could lay here next to him in silence and be happy until your joy has to burst from you, just like the clouds on the horizon. 

“Mingyu,” you say, turning to look at him. The grass tickles your cheek. 

He turns to look at you, too. It’s dark, here behind the university’s main hub, most of the lights on the far side of the building. Still, there’s enough light to see his eyes, steady on you, his gaze serious.

“Sunny Baby,” he responds, voice low, like he’s telling you a secret. “I love you.”

You wake up with faint tear-tracks on your cheeks, and you growl out a frustrated breath. 

“I need a lobotomy,” you grumble, wiping at your cheeks and trying to get comfortable again, hoping to go back to sleep - with less ridiculous dreams. 

It doesn’t happen. You flop from side to side over the course of half an hour, and then give up. You reach for your nightstand to see if you have any water, but there’s nothing but your phone and the lamp. With a sigh, you push yourself out from under the blankets and pad into the kitchen.

You’re letting a glass fill with tap water when you hear one of the other doors down the hallway open. You turn, peering through the moonlit living room, to see who else is up. The clock above the stove says it’s four in the morning.

“Sunny Baby,” Mingyu says, his voice rough with sleep. His hair is sticking up in the back. Your stomach lurches with the sick desire to smooth it down. “Why are you up?”

“Had a bad dream,” you lie. It was a good dream. Nothing bad about it until you wake up and feel guilty because of Daeyoung, and angry because your brain and heart are holding you fucking hostage. “Couldn’t get back to sleep.” That part’s true. 

“Poor Sunny Baby,” he croons, coming closer, the darkness making his form seem even bigger. “Come on - we’ll get comfy.” Just like we used to, he doesn’t say.

Your heart slams against your chest. “Oh,” you say softly. Because, yeah, a few months ago you wouldn’t have even needed him to invite you - you would have been there already, snuggling into the space next to his ribs, breathing him in until sleep returns to you. “Mingyu, I can’t.”

The blanket of darkness makes him bold. He scoffs, not even trying to hide it. “Why not? Because of that guy?” Like he doesn’t know Daeyoung’s name, like the last five months never happened. That guy. 

“Because I want to respect my relationship?” you correct gently. “Yes, that’s why. It wouldn’t be right, and you know it.”

You stand in silence for a moment, barely able to see each other across the darkened space, at an impasse. Then, he scoffs again, lighter this time. 

“Fine,” he says, moving past you towards the bathroom - probably the reason he was up in the first place. “Suit yourself.”

When he passes back through the living room on his way back to bed, you’re curled up on the couch under one of the blankets, the tv on with the sound turned low. He doesn’t even look at you as he turns down the hall and shuts his bedroom door behind him. You hear the lock click. You press your hands to your face and will yourself to breathe deep. Crying over him while asleep is one thing. Doing it while awake feels like a betrayal. 

Just one more you can add to your list.

–

“Hey!” you yell across the noisy room. Mingyu turns from where he’s standing near your bedroom door, talking to a few guys who you’ve seen around here but whose names you forget. Seok… something. The other one might be a Chan, you’re not sure. Mingyu lifts an eyebrow, waiting for whatever request you’re going to shout at him. 

“Can you get the door for me?” you call, trying to be louder than the music and chatter. Your apartment is bursting with people as Mingyu’s annual summer bash is well underway. You’re at the pong table - your kitchen table, shoved halfway into the living room - a slightly sticky plastic ball in hand. “Daeyoung is here, I can feel my phone going off.”

Mingyu gives you a wordless salute and shuffles off towards the front door, and you close one eye, lean forward as far as the others will let you without calling a foul, and line up your shot.

You sink it just seconds before you feel someone’s hands on your hips. You straighten up and turn to greet Daeyoung with a kiss, firm and confident courtesy of many drinks. The party’s been going for a few hours already, and you and the guys pregamed before the guests started showing up.

“Hi!” you chirp when you part. “Glad you made it!” 

“This is a lot of people,” he says back, looking around your living room and kitchen a bit incredulously. “You said you guys do this every year?”

You nod seriously. “We bribe our neighbors. I mean, they’re all invited of course, but we also try to do something nice to make up for the one night of noise. Last year I baked cookies. This year we just went straight to cash.”

He laughs, and you lead him through the throng of people into the kitchen for a drink. 

“I’m glad you came,” you say again, as he stands before the open fridge, scanning beer bottle labels for something palatable. He sends you a smile over his shoulder, then picks a bottle and turns. You place the opener into his waiting hand.

“You look good tonight,” he tells you, all glinty, looking at you sideways. You pretend to preen.

“Sunny always looks good,” Jeonghan asserts, breezing in behind you holding a bowl full of chips. 

“Are you sharing those?” you demand. “You can’t gatekeep the good ones, Jeonghan. We’ve talked about this.”

“Gatekeep, girlboss, whatever the third one is!” he replies, zipping back out of the kitchen as quickly as he’d come. 

Out in the living room, you hear the familiar sound of the karaoke machine booting up. There’s a telltale scraping - the pong table being shoved against the far wall to make more room for jumping around while aiming for that perfect score. 

When you and Daeyoung make it into the living room again, Mingyu and one of the friends whose names you forgot are singing together. Mingyu’s all irony, eyes closed in mock passion as he clutches his mic with both hands, but his friend is actually good, voice sailing over the higher notes without error.

“Wow,” you say. “That guy can actually sing.”

One of your friends, a girl you lovingly call Ethel because of the style of grandma glasses she favors, stops in front of you, pushing little plastic shot glasses into your hands.

“Are you the boyfriend?” she asks Daeyoung, somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve been dying to actually meet you. She’s been keeping you a secret.”

“I have not!” you reply hotly, as Daeyoung laughs, introducing himself. 

“It’s nice to meet her other friends,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. 

“I know, it’s hard to separate her from these guys,” she says. “They deserve a sitcom.”

“I’m standing right here,” you protest. 

Jeonghan appears behind you, too close. “We have a little problem in the kitchen,” he whispers.

You excuse yourself, leaving Daeyoung with Ethel - who will hopefully say nothing too incriminating about you and Mingyu’s blurry-lined friendship. 

In the kitchen, Wonwoo is kneeling on the floor, his upper body hidden in the cupboard under the sink. When he shuffles back out, the front of his shirt is wet. You can see a bit of water starting to pool on the boards below the cleaning supplies.

“Uh oh,” you say.

Mingyu appears to your left, solid and warm against your arm. Then he crouches, peering under the sink. 

“Can I have someone’s phone?” he asks, and you pass him yours. He turns on the flashlight and shines it at the pipes. You watch his face do that thing - that calculating look, the problem-solving look. 

“It’s this one,” he says, pointing to something you can’t see under there. “Where’s our toolbox?”

“Great question,” Wonwoo says, mouth twisting as he tries to remember. “Laundry room?”

“I think so,” you say. “I think it’s on the shelf in there.”

Mingyu scoots out from under the sink and disappears into the little nook you all graciously call a laundry room, since it does have a functional door, then reappears with two tools in hand. You don’t know what they are - you’ve never needed to.

You and Jeonghan and Wonwoo stand around him, worried, like you’re waiting for a doctor to emerge through hospital doors to report on the status of a loved one. When Mingyu backs out of the cabinet again, it’s with an air of smugness. 

“All set,” he says, one side of his mouth quirking proudly. 

“Our hero,” Jeonghan deadpans.

“This is why we keep you around,” you tell him.

“Get the man a shot,” Jeonghan says, swiveling to the collection of bottles on the counter. 

Daeyoung finds you on the kitchen floor, using a rag to wipe up any bits of water. Wonwoo and Mingyu both disappeared to change into dry shirts, you think. 

“Everything okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, wiping one last spot and leaning up on your knees to look around for any areas you might have missed. The last thing you need is for someone to slip in here. “The sink broke. It’s okay now, Mingyu fixed it.”

“Well, thank god for Mingyu,” he says, and you look up at him, not sure if you’re imagining the edge in his voice. Are you? Did you project that?

“Well,” you say, “kind of! Because four of us live here, and only one person could solve the problem.”

He laughs reluctantly. “I can fix a sink,” he says, a bit of a pout in his voice.

You stand, returning the rag to the counter. “I’ll make sure to ask you first next time,” you say, leaning up to brush your lips teasingly across his. “I just thought the rent-payer should handle the problem before the guests.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he allows, smiling bigger. 

A while later, you find yourself in Wonwoo’s room, leaning against the wall watching somewhat absently as he and one of his friends play a POV shooter game, their brows furrowed in concentration and fingers flying on the controls. 

Daeyoung had been with you only moments ago, reporting into your ear on the game’s happening like a sports commentator to make you laugh, but he’d gone to get you each a new drink. Mingyu appears in his absence, and you can tell immediately that he’s sloppy.

“Sunny Baby,” he sings, draping an arm over your shoulders. 

You can’t help but smile, even as you try to shift out from under his arm. “Yes?” you sing back teasingly. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “You can stay just like this.” He wraps his other arm around you, and you laugh, pushing very gently at his chest.

“Mingyu,” you protest, laughing. “Get off me.”

“I will in one second,” he says, smiling cheekily. “You haven’t let me hug you in a hundred years, I have to take advantage now that your defenses are weakened by cheap vodka.”

“Mingyu!” you laugh again. 

And then you see Daeyoung in the doorway behind him, face unreadable. 

“Mingyu,” you say again, deadly serious now. “Let go.” 

Daeyoung slowly reaches to put the two beers on Wonwoo’s dresser and turns, wordlessly retreating down the hallway.

“Damn it, Mingyu,” you hiss, extracting yourself and hurrying to follow him. Daeyoung makes it clear outside and down the front steps before you catch him.

“Daeyoung, wait!” you call, and he finally slows, turning to face you. You jog to catch up, a bit breathless. You’ve had way too much to drink for this kind of confrontation, but you try to get your shit together enough to defend yourself. Or apologize. Or both.

He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows and waits.

“Don’t -” you start, and then switch tracks quickly. “That was nothing. He’s like that when he’s had too much to drink. He’s just being silly.”

Daeyoung laughs once, sharp and sarcastic. “Don’t lie to me,” he says flatly. 

“I’m not!” you protest. “It’s true.”

He shakes his head, swipes his thumb across his phone screen and taps around. 

“Don’t leave,” you beg. “I’m sorry. I was trying to tell him to let go.”

He twists his mouth, refusing to look at you. At the far end of the street, you can see approaching headlights. He’s ordered a ride home. 

“When you said you were trying to get over someone I didn't pry,” he says flatly, “but I guess I should have. You could’ve had the decency to tell me that you live with him.”

The slam of the car door feels final, the sound passing over you like shrapnel. 

The blink of red taillights has just vanished around the corner when strong arms wrap around you. Mingyu must have followed, must have been watching from the door, must have seen it happen. 

You’ve been trying to make space, you’ve been trying to stay away, but you’re buzzed and you’re sad and you’re weak. So, you turn in his arms, burying your face in his shirt and letting yourself cry. 

He holds you through it, doesn’t say anything to you, just holds on tight until you can breathe again. 

“I don’t want you to see this,” you sniffle finally, and he lets his arms drop, stepping back so he can look at you. “This shouldn’t be you.”

“That’s fair,” he murmurs, sounding much more sober than he had inside. “But I’m the one who’s here. Tell me you want me to go, and I will.”

Your heart cracks. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper. 

“Okay,” he says, wrapping you up again, leaning his chin on the top of your head and swaying you a little bit. “Then I won’t.”

Eventually, you both lay in the grass. You don’t want to go inside, and Mingyu says he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the front yard. Instead, you lay side by side, far enough away that you’d have to stretch to touch. It feels like that night in undergrad, but also completely opposite. In your memories of that night, you felt warm and good like your place in the universe was guaranteed, your cog in the great machine fitting perfectly and spinning without difficulty. Tonight, you feel off, cold and angry, like your piece has been displaced and can’t fit anywhere anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu says, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make problems for you guys.”

“I know you didn’t,” you allow. 

“It was just us being us,” he says, a bit defensively.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think that was the problem.”

He has nothing to say to that. 

Daeyoung calls you, much later, when you’re back inside and tucked in your bed. 

“Were you sleeping?” he asks.

“Of course not,” you say. “I’m lying awake agonizing over you storming out on me.”

He laughs quietly, and you feel hope bloom behind your ribs. Is this salvageable?

“I might have overreacted,” he admits. “It’s easy to be intimidated by that guy.”

That guy again. What is it with these two? 

“You shouldn’t be,” you tell him. “He’s an idiot.”

Daeyoung laughs again. “So am I,” he says.

“You don’t need to worry about him,” you say. “I’ve been really trying to adjust the boundaries of our friendship, and it’s a big change from how we used to be. Usually we do better… Like I said earlier, he was drunk. He just forgot himself, went back to how things used to be.”

Daeyoung is quiet for a second. “I should have let you explain yourself before I left,” he says evenly.

“I’m sorry I put you in that position in the first place,” you counter. “I didn’t mean to. I’m in this with you, Daeyoung. I promise.”

“I know,” he admits. “I know you are.”

You smile into the phone. “Our first fight.”

He laughs again. “Hopefully not one of many.”

“Eh,” you say. “It’s normal. Anyway, I’m glad you called. I would have been a mess waiting to hear from you. Might have embarrassed myself blowing your phone up.”

“Maybe I should have let you embarrass yourself,” he teases. 

“It’s like that, huh?” you joke.

“Yes,” he sniffs. “Until I feel better.”

When you finally hang up, you creep through the apartment to pee before trying to sleep. You notice Mingyu’s light is on, though his door is shut. You pause, looking at that sliver of light, and then continue on back to your own bed. 

–

July

“Move over!” you giggle, using your hips to scoot Daeyoung out of your way, a wooden spoon in your hand. The simmering stew on the stovetop smells delectable, and you give it a stir, make sure nothing is stuck to the bottom of the pot. 

“Ask nicely!” he retorts, but he’s smiling. 

Mingyu watches the scene covertly from the couch, trying to keep his face neutral, trying to keep his face tilted towards the tv so he doesn’t get caught watching. Or worse, caught sulking.

You and Daeyoung eat and wash up most of what you used to cook, offer the leftovers to anyone around to hear you (so, just Mingyu), and then leave, giggles and flirting dissipating and leaving Mingyu in a quiet that he absolutely can’t stand. 

When you return the next day, trying to look nonchalant with your overnight bag clutched in your hands, Mingyu is at the kitchen table, eating some of the leftovers and watching videos on his phone. 

“Hey,” he greets you, pausing the video.

You give your overnight bag a light toss; it lands with a thump over near the couch. “Hey yourself,” you say, heading into the kitchen for a drink. “The food’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” he admits. “Your man can cook, huh?”

“Hey!” you object. “I did most of the work!”

“Hmm,” he says, rising and coming into the kitchen to rinse his plate. 

You cross your arms, eyes narrowing. “Hmmm what?”

He shrugs teasingly. “We’ve lived together a long time, Sunny. I have a hard time believing you’re the chef in that relationship. You never helped me cook anything.”

Your eyes narrow even more. “You never asked me to,” you retort, suddenly defensive. “There’s a lot of things I do with Daeyoung because you never asked me to.”

Silence falls on the kitchen like a rockslide. 

Mingyu takes one very careful step backwards. “Because I never asked you to?” he echoes, his voice shaking just slightly.

Your pulse races, and you fight a wave of nausea. A Freudian slip if there ever was one. 

“That you never asked me to,” you amend firmly.

Mingyu hesitates. Then, “I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

That defensiveness moves inside you like a thing alive, your temper flaring in an effort to protect you. 

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snap, suddenly pissed. 

Mingyu doesn’t rise to the bait, doesn’t match your temper at all. Calm and steady, he says, “So then you tell me. How do you feel, Sunny?”

That rockslide hits you. You can’t breathe, too bruised by the onslaught. All the years of secrets and feelings and broken rules and truths that you knew but pretended not to spill around you, impossible to escape.

“You don’t get to ask me that,” you hiss at him. “Not now. That’s not fair.”

His calm cracks, just slightly, his tone going hard. “What are you talking about?”

“Why now, Mingyu?” you demand. “Why now, when I have someone? Why not any of the years before now, when I was only yours?” 

You’re breathing hard, having spat the words like they’re venom, and you wait him out. He blusters, splutters, has nothing to say to this.

Your temper pulls you like a wave, a momentum you can’t fight.

“You don’t know the answer?” you ask sarcastically. “That’s fine - I can tell you: because you had me. You had me, and you didn’t need to share me, and you could still do whatever - or whoever! - you wanted and I’d still fucking be here afterward.”

You know exactly the moment you start crying through the words, because Mingyu’s body jolts, like he instinctively moved to touch you but remembered to stay back.

“And now?” you continue, because you’re on a roll, everything you’ve held in for years finally bursting from you with the fury of a cracked dam. “Now that’s changed. So, what is it? You want your toy back now that someone else is playing with it?”

“Of course not-”

“Fuck you, Mingyu! You sat me on the shelf for too long. I don’t deserve that.”

“Sunny, no,” he tries again. “It isn’t like that. I lo-”

“Yes, it is!” you shout. You’ve never shouted at him in your life, and it actually shuts him up. Tears are still streaming down your face, but you ignore them. “It is, and until you see that, I can’t expect you to change it or fix it.”

You start to storm past him, but you whirl on him, a finger pointed in his direction. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you love me!” you add furiously. “No you don’t. Not the right way, not like this.”

And then you slam out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook as you go.

–

[5:22pm] You: if i send you a list of what i need, can you please put a bag together for me and leave it in the hall

[5:22pm] (jeong)Han Solo: :( sunny

[5:22pm] You: hannie please??? i can’t go inside. i really can’t.

[5:23pm] (jeong)Han Solo: he’s a fucking wreck 

[5:23pm] You: i don’t care

[5:24pm] You: i mean of course i fucking care that’s the whole problem

[5:24pm] You: please? my things?

–

August

August 3

[10:02am] Mingyu: sunny please talk to me

[12:17pm] Mingyu: please let me apologize to you

[12:17pm] Mingyu: i dont want to do it over text but you wont answer my calls and no one seems to know where you are

[12:22pm] Mingyu: you were right. about all of it.

[12:22pm] Mingyu: and you were right that you dont deserve it

[12:22pm] Mingyu: please call me back or come home so i can say this to your face

[5:38pm] Mingyu: there’s one part you were wrong about

[5:38pm] Mingyu: i do love you. the right way. maybe it took losing you to someone to get my ass moving but i loved you way before he was in the picture

[5:38pm] Mingyu: dont ever question that again

[11:04pm] Mingyu: god, sunny, answer your phone!

August 4

[7:43am] Mingyu: you’re killing me

[7:43am] Mingyu: are you happy sunshine???? KILLING ME!!!

[1:36pm] Mingyu: come home

[1:36pm] Mingyu: please

[8:02pm] Mingyu: we HAVE to talk about this, sunny

[11:51pm] Mingyu: i’m not going to give up

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: are you staying with daeyoung for a while?

[10:23am] You: no. my mom’s. 

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: ok. im glad you’re with someone who can care for you.

[10:23am] (jeong)Han Solo: we miss you :(

August 5

[8:00am] Mingyu: fine, i’ll say everything over text like an asshole

[8:00am] Mingyu: just know you made me do this!

[8:04am] Mingyu: i fell in love with you in undergrad when you had to take that statistics class that you almost failed. when you saw your midterm score was passing you told me i love you for the first time and i swear to god i almost proposed to you right there. And it never went away. It was never less.

[8:08am] Mingyu: i love you because you wield your attitude like both sword and shield. I love you because you can barely count but you make me feel so stupid sometimes with how clever you are. I love you because you’re beautiful and funny and empathetic and you make me want to be better than i am. I want to be more competent for you, to be able to take care of you and provide for you when you need it. I love you because when i’m sick you take care of me and you let me take care of you when you��re down too. I love you because when i’m with you i feel like someone’s GOT me, someone understands me and has my back. 

[8:09am] Mingyu: i cant believe youre making me say this all in TEXT i hate this!

[8:10am] Mingyu: i have more. I have a hundred more reasons. 

[8:10am] Mingyu: come home so i can tell you

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunny baby. Please come home soon.

You show up to Daeyoung’s unannounced. His face is grim when he opens the door; you haven’t answered his calls or texts in a few days, either. He probably knows what this is. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping backwards to make room for you in his doorway. “This is a surprise.”

“I’m sorry I vanished,” you tell him. “Something happened. I’ve been at my mom’s.”

He eyes you warily, like he’s not sure if this is a I got in a car accident kind of something, or a I cheated on you kind of something, and he doesn’t want to react for the wrong one. “Okay…” he says slowly.

“Daeyoung,” you say, after taking a breath to steel yourself, “I care about you, and I like you, and I have real feelings for you.” 

“I sense a but,” he says dryly. 

You smile sadly. “But I dont think this is fair to you. I shouldn’t be with someone - anyone - until I’m over him or he’s out of my life… and I can’t seem to make either of those things happen.” You don’t need to say which him. You both know. “I wanted to. I wanted to do it right and I thought I was… but I was wrong.” 

He shrugs, face blank. “Okay.” 

“Daeyoung.” 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks, frustration seeping into his tone. “I can't argue with any of that. I can’t change it for you. I can’t be better than him, I can't become him. You’re right, you shouldn’t be with someone else if what you really want is that guy.”

That guy. Again.

“You’re right,” you whisper, looking at your feet.

He lets out a breath. “So, it’s done then?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Daeyoung. I hope someday you can believe that this isn’t how I wanted it to go. You deserve better.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t let you go out with any optimism. You and your misery trudge back to your mother’s, fall asleep in your childhood bed.

August 6

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i have more things to say today

[8:00am] Mingyu: i will give you two 2️⃣ minutes to respond or you get it all thru text AGAIN

[8:00am] Mingyu: and you know how i feel about that.

[8:03am] Mingyu: fine.

[8:03am] Mingyu: you’ve always been so fucking stubborn sunny. just let me apologize to you!

[8:05am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i kept you on hold

[8:05am] Mingyu: you’re right. that’s what was happening. but i didn’t MEAN it like that.

[8:05am] Mingyu: idk if you believe me bc i can’t see your face 🙄

[8:06am] Mingyu: but its true. I just… liked how things were. Youre right… i counted on you always being there waiting for me. 

[8:06am] Mingyu: i thought it was okay though… i thought if you wanted it to change you had the power to change it

[8:07am] Mingyu: like, you could have said something to me.

[8:07am] Mingyu: and i dont mean that like its your fault or anything, it was just how i rationalized it to myself. Like if you werent complaining then it must be fine?

[8:09am] Mingyu: i’m an idiot

[8:14am] Mingyu: but i’m an idiot who loves you, and misses you, and wants to do better

[11:59pm] Mingyu: please come home

[12:32pm] You: i broke up with him.

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: are you okay???

[12:32pm] (jeong)Han Solo: come home so we can take care of you!!

[12:58pm] You: i cant face him. not yet. im not ready

August 7

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: i’m sorry i took you for granted. even if we walk out of this only trying to repair the friendship, i swear i’ll never let it happen again.

[11:58pm] Mingyu: goodnight sunshine. I love you.

August 8

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny ☀️

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont work too hard today

[8:00am] Mingyu: dont take any shit from marcus in accounting

[12:12pm] Mingyu: having lunch. call me if you want? it doesnt have to be heavy. Just hello.

[12:39pm] Mingyu: i need you back sunny. in whatever capacity youll let me have.

[11:57pm] Mingyu: hope you had a good day. Goodnight, i love you.

August 9

[8:00am] Mingyu: good morning sunny

[11:58pm] Mingyu: please. Please come home.

–

When you return home, a week after you left, it’s nearly dawn, the light from outside the living room just turning blue enough that you can see the outlines of the couches as you close the door as quietly as you can.

You step lightly, avoiding the spots you know will creak and groan when you step over them. You peer down the hallway to see that the guys’ doors are all shut, no lights on - not even the blues of Wonwoo’s computer monitor. 

You open your door and look around; your room looks exactly how you left it, down to the glass of water on the nightstand, now nearly empty. Except… the blankets on the bed are wrong. You set your bag down gently next to your dresser and creep closer, squinting through the dimly lit room.

A dark head of hair peeks out from under your comforter.

You can’t help it - you smile to yourself. For all the things Mingyu is - intelligent, funny, athletic, competent - he’s also a big baby. And he’s sleeping in your bed, because he misses you, and it comforts him.

It makes you want to forgive him for every wrong, press your lips to his sleepy forehead, listen to him lisp out Sunny Baby. 

He hurt you, it’s true. But you believe it that he was lying to himself, pretending things were fine. Weren’t you doing the exact same thing? You can’t hope Daeyoung will forgive you for your mistakes if you aren’t willing to do the same, too. 

You close your bedroom door and approach your bed. Mingyu stirs, making cricket legs under the blanket and stretching one arm towards the empty side. Towards you, though he doesn’t know it yet.

Then he freezes. His voice comes out paper thin. “Sunny?” he asks, pushing himself to sitting.

“This is not your bed,” you tell him, and he launches himself across the mattress, scrambling to reach you.

You allow him to wrap his gangly arms around your middle, pulling you to him as apologies pour over his lips so fast that he’s nearly babbling.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing at his shoulders. You back away and he follows like he’s tethered to you, clambering from the bed and standing before you.

For a moment, you just stare at each other through the thick blue of encroaching dawn.

And then he says your name.

Not Sunny. Not Sunny Baby. Your real name.

“I am so sorry - for everything,” he says, the ache in his voice clear and open. Then he drops his voice to a pained whisper. “Please. Tell me I can fix it.”

You press your lips together, looking at him. He looks awful - like he hasn’t slept much, or been eating well. You feel a little bad that you stayed away for so long, but you’d needed the time by yourself. You’d needed the clarity of being alone to figure out what you want.

“I think we can,” you whisper back, since the rest of the apartment is still sleeping. We, because this was on both of you. 

He crushes you in a hug, surrounding you in the smell of cinnamon, his cheek pressed to your head. “I’m sorry,” he breathes into your hair. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please let me try and do better.”

“I broke up with Daeyoung,” you respond, and he snaps his mouth shut, stepping backwards to stare at you. 

“Why?” he asks finally, hoarse, like he can barely get the word out. 

You look up at him. “Because it wasn’t right to be with him. It wasn’t right to be with him when I’ve been in love with someone else the whole time.”

He closes his eyes, his whole body seeming to sag. 

“I forgive you,” you say quietly, “and I do believe that things will be better now. If we talk about it - if we’re working together to make it better.”

“Yes,” he says quickly, desperately. “I will - I’ll do whatever I need to -”

“Both of us,” you say again, emphatically. “You were right, this wasn’t just your fault. I let this go on for… years. I counted marks against you but I never once spoke up.”

“No,” he protests, shaking his head. “It was my fault, Sunny, I took it for granted and I should have been loving you, spoiling you -”

You laugh. “I mean, maybe,” you say. “But if I’d talked to you… maybe you would have been.”

“I want to now,” he says. “Can I? Will you let me?”

You smile up at him, and he grins back, taking your smile as an answer.

You reach up and touch his eye-tooth gently with a fingertip. “Your stupid fang is so fucking cute,” you whisper. “It is truly unfair how cute it is.”

He pretends to scowl at you. “We’re having a serious moment, here, Sunshine.”

You smile again, gentler this time. “I love you,” you tell him. “If you want to prove you can do this right… then I’m all in.”

He whispers your name again, then looks at you.

His eyes are molten again, the way they were the night you’d had your only kiss. It’s almost hypnotizing, the strength of his gaze on you, pulling you in wordlessly until your body is flush with his. You look up at him, breathless. 

“I’ll start proving it now,” he murmurs, so low you barely catch it, and then his mouth snags on yours, forceful, his hands cupping your jaw gently, a juxtaposition.

He touches you so tenderly, his fingers feather-light against the skin they uncover as you undress each other in hushed silence. It feels holy, somehow. 

He licks spices and heat into your mouth, trails calloused fingers down your bare arms, pulls your hips into his as his teeth trace down your jaw, makes sure you feel his want for you.

You slide your hands from his waist up his stomach and over his pecs, revelling in how he hisses and leans into the touch. 

“Wanted to do this for years,” he grumbles, like he’s complaining, before lowering his lips to your chest, sucking on supple skin to see how you like it, then doing it harder when you dig your fingers into his shoulders, gasping at the sensation.

“Should’ve,” you scold, even as your eyes close and your head tilts back. “Could’ve been.”

But you aren’t thinking about your wasted time when he kneads both hands in the meat of your ass, or when you slide a flat palm up the length of him, delighting in the weight and heat you find straining against his Calvins. You’re thinking about how his hands are searing, about how you want to taste him but maybe not yet, not this first time. You’re thinking about his fingers sliding between your legs and the belly-deep rumble he makes when he feels how ready you are for him.

And when you finally come together, his mouth pressed to yours as he lays you back on the bed you’ve shared countless times, you’re only thinking about him and his beautiful smile and molten eyes and infectious laugh and empathetic heart. When he’s pushed as far into you as your bodies will allow, his hips tight against you and a whine slipping between his lips, you’re overcome with emotion. As you adjust to him, his eyes trace your face, and he reads what’s there with perfect clarity.

“Love you, Sunny Baby,” he whispers into the crook of your neck. 

You swallow against the thick rise of feelings and run your fingers through his hair. “Move for me,” you beg. And when he does, it’s just as perfect as the rest of him. 

You press your forehead to his when you come, his thumb rough on your clit and his mouth gasping broken breaths against your lips, pulsing around him in waves so dizzying you think they trigger even more. His hair sticks to his forehead as he presses deep inside you, and he shelters you between mountainous arms as he finally lets go.

Mingyu is sunrise, leaking orange and pink and yellow and white and chasing away a world of purples and blues. He’s so bright you have to squint, a promise of a fresh start, an end to the darkness of night. 

He’s perfect. He’s perfect, and you love him, and finally you can have him. 

You lay in his arms, heartbeat slowing bit by bit, and feel wholly at peace - like everything finally settled into place, everything landed exactly as it was meant to. Your cog in the universe, spinning correctly at last, grooves fitted perfectly to Kim Mingyu’s. 

The peace lasts…. until you check your phone. 

[8:26am] (jeong)Han Solo: when you two are DONE…. we went out for breakfast if you want to join 🙄

—

November

“Baby,” Mingyu says, but it’s stern. “Quit fixing the pillows.”

“It has to be perfect in here!” you whine. 

Mingyu wraps his arms around you like a cage, squeezing until you’re laughing too hard and drop the throw pillow from your hand.

“They lived with us for years,” he says, entirely too rationally. “You can’t fool them.” 

He releases his hold on you so you can turn and pout at him. You’re about to protest - argue that it’s Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s first time visiting you and Mingyu’s new place, that this is momentous, a special occasion - but you’re cut off by an obnoxiously outlandish knock on the front door. 

“I’ve got it,” Mingyu tells you. “You just try to relax.” 

You will, in just a second. But first, you lean over to the candle you have burning on the coffee table and adjust it just slightly to center the label, which reads Fall Harvest and Cinnamon.

--

thank you so much for reading!!!!

[cleoselene]

did LFR today on my mage and my warlock, and I had forgotten.. well, how much i love LFR as a raid option. I get to see all the endgame content without the DRAMA of raiding with a guild lol. Look I have fond memories, particularly of BC and WotLK raiding, but mostly I remember people getting cranky, wiping a million times, and ultimately realizing me and my friends would never be hardcore enough to do this in a fun way.

also for my first raid in 8 years.. I felt good. Didn't fall on my face. Had my Deadly Boss Mods installed and did fine. Got some shoulders on my lock and a dagger on my mage.

delves tho... ugh. it's where literally all the gear is it seems and they're so tedious. Brann is such a dumb dungeon partner. STILL NOT PLEASED AT HOW THIS GAME HAS REALLY GONE HARDCORE ALLIANCE WHILE I WAS GONE. Like. This whole xpac is just a bunch of Alliance bitches with a random Thrall or Lillian Voss sighting to remind Horde players they exist. I feel personally aggrieved that I have to deal with Anduin's angst after they massacred Sylvanas' character. I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE ABLE TO KILL THE BOY KING WHEN WE RAIDED STORMWIND AND WAS MAD IT WASN'T AN OPTION BACK IN THE DAY.

in hindsight I feel really sad I wasn't around for Legion when it was live endgame. it seems like that's just the best all-around content. The world is stunning, the plot is dope, the tier sets are amazing, the class identity stuff is AWESOME.

anyway the Earthen are fun, I like Brinthe. I like that they're not a bunch of drunken celtic sounding types like the Dwarves lol. Look, I just don't like the Alliance that much. I'm here for Alleria, though. I'm always here for a Windrunner sister. Or high elves/blood elves they're the bomb

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 4: "Holy Ground"

"And darling, it was good never looking down. And right there where we stood was holy ground..."

Pairing: Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader

And then things got better. Your frame of reference for these things admittedly wasn't great, but you couldn't have imagined a better time over the next few months. It was absolutely perfect.

Mission after mission - day in, day out, now that you and Bucky were getting along, or more accurately now that Bucky stopped reading so much into Sam's words, you three actually made a pretty good team.

-

The playful dynamic between the three of you:

"This is a bad idea, right?" Sam murmurs, looking down at the overpass as you wait for the semi-truck to pass.

"Terrible idea," Bucky agrees.

"Too late, I've committed," you quip, stepping over the barricade. 

"But you haven't done anything yet!" Sam calls after you. 

-

"That's like a 20 foot drop, no way," Bucky says, his tone slightly playful but still sticking his arm out to stop you from dropping off the ledge of the rooftop the three of you were on. 

"That sounds like a challenge to me," you playfully remark. 

"It's not," Bucky deadpans.

You shrug, moving around Bucky's arm and leaping off the ledge.

“And I stick the landing!” you exclaim as your feet touch the ground, a well timed burst of air breaking your fall. As you land you turn around and stick your arms out much like a gymnast would at the end of their routine. You look up to find Bucky and Sam watching you in equal parts horror and awe. “Well come on!”

“How did-”

“I’m going to try that,” Sam decidedly mumbles.

“I wouldn’t-” But Sam’s already leaping off the ledge, mimicking your exact technique, at least without the mystical powers to further break his fall. 

“Sam, wait-” you start when you see him drop down without his wings extended.

Both you and Bucky wince as Sam lands on the lower rooftop. At first he remains standing, his knees awkwardly straight as he hits the gravel, only for him to audibly groan. “That’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

Bucky’s the next one to leap, this time with a much smoother landing. “That’s what you get for trying to copy a twenty-something year old with weird powers.”

“Hey!” you defend. “My powers aren’t weird.”

“I hate to side with Bucky,” Sam groans, rubbing at one of his knees. “But it’s definitely not normal.”

-

Or on Bucky's birthday: 

“James? What are you doing here?” you ask, wiping your hands on the dishtowel as he walks in the door.

He smirks, putting his jacket on one of the kitchen chairs. “Am I not supposed to be here?”

“You shouldn’t be working- it’s your birthday.”

“Crime doesn’t stop because of a birthday. How did you even know that it's my birthday?”

You coyly shrug. “I have my sources.”

“So Sam?” You shrug again, leaving Bucky once again without any answers. “Where is he anyway?”

“Upstairs having a very intense conversation with Nick Fury.”

“About?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“Oh…”

"Yeah... but back to your birthday," you smile. "No big plans? It's not everyday you turn 106."

He noncommittally grunts in response. Truthfully, this was his plan for the day. Sam had texted him earlier in the day inviting him over, and considering that most of the team was out doing their own things, it was a clear choice. Steve was out on a mission, though Bucky knew that Steve would probably call him later to wish him a happy birthday. The empty compound just felt particularly depressing today. And there was possibly a small, tiny part of him that wanted to see you.

"Well, this was supposed to be for later, but since we're waiting for Sam," you say, pulling out the cake that had been cooling in the fridge. "Happy Birthday, James."

“You didn’t have to do that," he says, though his heart swells at the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

“That’s what friends are for, right? Unless you’ve decided to go back to hating me.”

Bucky chuckles. “Not today. But you never know, I'm a cranky old man at heart.”

“Was that a joke?" you tease. "It’s truly a birthday miracle.”

He laughs again, a wry grin forming on his face, "They did exist back in my day."

"You know, you've got a really nice smile," you idly comment. 

A blush forms on Bucky's face and he's not quite sure how to respond, but you turn around to grab plates and utensils completely oblivious to how your compliment had thrown Bucky for a loop. “Well, what about you?" he asks after finally composing himself. "You know, since we’re friends and all.”

“What about me?”

“When’s your birthday?” 

Your smile drops slightly, which Bucky immediately notices.“I, uh, I don’t have a birthday.”

“What do you mean? Everyone has a birthday.”

“I mean, I’m sure I do- probably. I just don’t know it. I don’t even know how old I am.”

“I thought Sam said you were in your twenties?”

“I am, well at least that’s what they think. Somewhere in my mid-twenties, but we don’t actually know.”

"We're cutting cake!" Sam exclaims, walking into the room and effectively cutting your conversation with Bucky much to his frustration. It felt like for every question he had answered, a dozen new ones appeared, each answer more complicated than the last. 

-

Even the tense parts like when you had to be the buffer between Sam and Bucky's endless bickering.

"Move your seat up," Bucky demands, the three of you sitting in Sam's car. Him in the backseat, you in the front passenger seat. 

"No," Sam grunts.

"Move your seat up."

"Why do you insist I sit in the front if you don't have enough leg room in the back?" you ask, turning around to face Bucky, who remains glaring at Sam.

"Because I have manners."

"You know as well as I do that social cues are lost on me. We can just switch and I promise I won't be offended."

"Or Sam can move his seat up."

"You two are insufferable," you huff, facing forward until you can feel them both questioningly staring at you. "What? That was my word of the day a few days ago. Did I not use it right?"

"I am not insufferable," Bucky mutters, crossing his arms and sitting further back in his seat. "Pick a better word."

"Grumpy?" you suggest, mostly teasing.

"No."

"A crotchety old man," Sam offers.

Bucky rolls his eyes, then turns his gaze back to you waiting for you to come up with a better word. "Okay, well considering I’ve learned most of my vocabulary in the last six months, I'm still pretty limited in word choice, so we'll go with grumpy for you, and Sam will be the insufferable one."

Bucky huffs without saying another word, but you're pretty sure you see the corner of his lip twitch up through your sideview mirror.

-

On a few occasions, Bucky was regrettably the buffer between you and Sam.

"You're being ridiculous!" Bucky hears you say through the door to your's and Sam's apartment. He quietly opens the door to find Sam clutching several DVDs to his chest.

"I can't believe you!" Sam shouts. 

"It's not that big of a deal, Sam," you sigh, sitting on the couch with your arms folded watching Sam pace the length of the living room.

"Er...what's going on?" Bucky asks, eyes flickering to the two of you. 

Sam slaps the DVD cases down onto the coffee table. "You know what we did today? We finished the original Star Wars trilogy."

"Okay?" Bucky questions.

"And she didn't like them!"

"I didn't say that!" you vehemently object. "I said they were fine."

"Fine!" Sam rants. "Can you believe that? Just fine- these movies defined a generation! And you think they're just fine!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, a habit you picked up from Bucky, and sigh,"It's not that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal," Sam scoffs. "Tell her, Bucky! Tell her that it is a big deal!"

Sam eye's remain narrowed at you as he waits for Bucky to back him up, only turning away from you when Bucky remains completely silent. Sam's face drops as he sees Bucky's awkward grimace, "Not you too. Please tell me not you too."

"No," Bucky immediately replies, quickly shaking his head. "I didn't say that. I just, I never watched them."

Your head drops in resignation, knowing exactly where this is headed.

"Well then I know what we're doing today," Sam announces, then turns to you with a pointed glare, "Pay attention this time."

-

And sometimes there was no buffer at all.

"You got to be the distraction last time!"

"So what?" Bucky argues, the three of you standing around the kitchen island. 

"Being the distraction is the best part and you know that!" Sam retorts.

"Alright, alright!" you interrupt, also wanting to be the one to create the distraction on this mission. "There's only one way to make this fair- rock, paper, scissors."

"Fine," Bucky and Sam grunt, each glaring at each other. You roll your eyes as the three of you stick your hands out. 

And much to their dismay, you get to be the distraction this time. “Can I set something on fire?”

“I said distraction not destruction," Sam grumbles.

“I’m pretty sure a fire would be pretty distracting," you wryly remark.

"You've been spending way too much time with Bucky."

"What does that mean?" Bucky scoffs in indignation. 

"You know exactly what it means."

-

And somewhere in those short few months, you noticed your relationship to Bucky changing, taking a turn in a way that your friendship to Sam hadn't. You constantly looked forward to the next time you'd see Bucky. Your smile would grow just a little wider when he was near. You immediately noticed when he walked in or out of a room. You just couldn't get him out of your head. You reconciled that it was probably nothing, just a blossoming friendship. But unbeknownst to you, Sam also noticed the changes in your relationship with Bucky.

"Hey, Doll," Bucky greets, warmly smiling at you before even acknowledging Sam.

You return the warm smile, "Hi."

"Oh my goodness. I forgot my phone upstairs, do you mind grabbing it?" Sam stiltedly asks you.

"Oh, sure," you reply, standing up to go retrieve Sam's phone.

“Don’t flirt with her," Sam hisses, swiftly elbowing Bucky in the ribs the second you're out of earshot.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. “I literally just said hi!”

“You smiled.”

“I’m not allowed to smile?”

“Not when you’re flirting with my asset.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

“You were totally flirting. Stop it," he warns, sounding like an older brother warning his friend about his sister being off limits.

“I can’t stop doing something that I didn’t do in the first place.”

"You can and you will."

You walk back into the room before Bucky and Sam can exchange anymore words. "I couldn't find your phone. Where did you leave it?"

"Oh, silly me! I've got it right in my pocket. My bad," he chuckles, dramatically slapping his forehead.

"Okay..." you trail off, definitely noting the strange atmosphere you just walked back into.

-

You could've stayed like that forever...

Previous Chapter ⏐ Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

[aprincessofthevoid]

I think the only time I really justify any kind of smacking a kid is on reflex if they're gonna touch/do anything that will hurt them. Like... my brain isn't fast enough to gently tell them not to touch a hot stove. I'm probably just gonna slap their hands or grab them in some way. Or if they're running into traffic I will 100% kick a toddler ngl. Won't even be a conscious thought cus that initial shock is for better than the alternative option.

But kids having tantrums is NORMAL... their brain is still figuring shit out. Slapping them around for processing their emotions isn't helping them process those emotions. And it's annoying, yes, you might just need to walk away n let them scream if you get overwhelmed so you DONT hit them if you were hit as a kid.

Whenever I see a parent struggling in public, especially one who just seems stressed out or embarrassed by their kid doing unruly kid thing, I usually just try to give an amused sorta, exaggerated shock you give to a kid doing their "cool trick". and and then smile n comment something like "well SOMEOMES cranky today" to the parent and laugh about it. Usually, they seem a little relieved the closest person understands and isn't annoyed by their kids.

I've worked in a theme park, and in multiple customer service jobs, kids are usually pretty alright if you just fuckin TALK to them... like??? If I as a stranger can politely ask your kid I met 30sec ago to please not do something because *insert general safety rule or polite social norm here* and they LISTEN with very little prompting... why the FUCK do you as your parent need them to be afraid of you to get them to even pretend to listen??

Kids are curious... just give them an actual reason, explain its to keep them safe, that you're trying to teach then manners, or how to function as an adult in advance. I will admit my mother on the odd occasion did spank me but it was very very rare and usually no more than one swat if I did something particularly upsetting (usually just something dangerous as I stated prior). She did yell tho, not usually pointless yelling she was just struggling with her own shit, but she's also the one who talked to me like a person as a kid, because she was trying to do her best.

Which is another situation here as well, because ppl who have a specific upbringing that was less than ideal, will likely make some mistakes. Especially if they also happen to have some additional disability be it physical or mental that lowers their daily tolerance for additional stimulation or struggle. It's hard enough parenting yourself thru life when you realize you now have another human who needs you 24/7. Mistakes will happen, apologize to your kids, it helps I promise, you WILL fuck up, everybody does. What decides if you undo all the generational trauma is if you check yourself snd own up to your mistakes.

Problem #1 regarding child abuse is that a lot of people seem to struggle to imagine normal, respectable-looking parents and other authority figures ever doing it despite the statistics so instead they do the stranger danger panic and completely overlook some of the greatest threats.

Problem #2 is that even when people understand, even if in an abstract way, that parents can be abusive they just... don't seem to actually register that as something that can apply to real life. It's just hypothetical to them and doesn't actually guide their ideas of how to prevent child abuse.

Problem #3 is that even after overcoming the above biases a lot of people have a very narrow image of what abusive parenting is where they imagine like... people doing violent things basically out of sadism and without provocation. They don't seem to think it's "real" abuse if the victim did something that "justifies" punitive violence, like disobeying the parents.

In fact, most people think parents have a right to do a whole lot of awful things to their children beyond just hitting them, like violating their privacy, controlling their access to information, and deciding what/when/if they eat, among other things.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

🦊 Being Inarizaki's Manager 🦊

🥺The Foxes Make Miss Manager Cry🥺

Inarizaki x Female Manager

What happens when the foxes take our their anger out on their precious YN?

Warnings: angst to fluff

A/N: This is a lovely request from @loevngyuno! I do love me some angst to fluff 😏 more to come soon!

You should have known today wouldn't end well

Everything from the start just seemed to be going wrong 😕

You woke up late thus making you late for school

You dropped you lunch

Seriously, is dropped food just not a nail in the coffin 😭

You totally bombed a surprise math quiz

Today just wasn't your day

But you know your luck was about to change 🙌🏻

Mainly in the form of a team of chaotic boys you loved so dearly

Unfortunately and unbeknownst to you, Mercury was in major retrograde 😐

Because the bad mood and lack of luck didn't only extent to you

Oh no no no

You walk onto the gym and instantly notice a heaviness in the air

Everyone is cranky 😠

You walk over to Kita and ask if he needs anything

"Why are you asking YN you know what to do"

Then he walks away

Ok then 🥺

It's ok YN dont cry, maybe he's having a bad day too?

You begin doing your daily tasks

Trying to ignore the literal tension in the air

Filling water bottles, gathering towels, filling up volleyballs

When you were filling up volleyball, you must have accidently missed one

There is only 100 of them YN how dare you miss one 🙄

Aran comes up to you and hands it back to you

"Yn can you please do your job and fill up the volleyball? I missed a spike because this one was near empty"

Ok 🥺🥺

Breath YN it's ok, obviously everyone is having a bad day

You go to grab the mop inbetween sets and accidently run into Suna on your way out of the closet

"Will you watch out YN!" He huffs as he practically walks straight through you

Ok... no big deal 🥺🥺🥺

You go to grab towels for the team inbetween training and accidently drop Osamu's towel

"Jesus YN you really are clumsy"

They are really digging on you hard today 🥺🥺🥺🥺

But it's ok YN, soon practice will be over and you can go home

You return from one last time filling up the teams water bottles

You hand them out, knowing you only have a fee minutes of practice left

Unfortunately for you, a certain someone's water bottle top wasn't screwed on just right 😵

👀👀 you notice it when he lifts it up to drink but *SPLASH*

It's too late 😬

Atsumu is completely soaked from head to toe

"WHAT THE HELL YN?? CAN'T YA EVER DO ANYTHING RIGHT?"

You freeze

It's the final straw that throws your horrible day over the already overflowing edge

Tears fill your eyes as you begin to cry

"I'm sorry" 😭😭😭😭

You literally run from the gym as tears stream down your perfect face 😥

The boys watch in horror as you run from them

Inarizaki isn't a stupid team

They fully are aware of how crappy they all treated you

Kita's actions replay in his mind as Suna and Osamu vividly remember how they yelled at you

Aran feels the worst

He's an absolute angel and he totally knows he messed up

The rest of the team hasn't been particularly nice either

Atsumu signs as he sits down, upset that he lashed out on you

Yep the universe is DEFINITELY screwed up of even Atsumu is feeling bad 👀

By this point, you've gone to the club room and you are full on bawling

Like ugly crying YN 😫

But seriously it's ok

It's been a day and sometimes you need a good cry

We've ALL been there 🫂

A small knock at the door snaps you from your pity party

It's Michinari, Inarizaki's Libero

Now hear me out here 🤚🏻

This man is an amazing listener and he can defuse situations so well

He just has a charm about him

Omimi comes with

He's a giant man but like he's got a sweet spot for Inarizaki's Manager

He's like your silent body guard but like you totally sit with him on the bus

Besides Aran, he's the only one who will let you nap on him

"YN are you ok?" Michinari asks

Look up at him YN with your tear filled eyes and it's all over 🥺

You've broken these men's hearts

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to screw up. Today has just been one thing after another"

You are legit blubbering now YN and like your breath is hicupping

You know, like when you get really worked up and breathing is hard 🥺

Yeah that's you bby 😭

Michinari and Omimi don't know what to do

I'd say besides Kita and Aran, these two are the most mature emotionally

It has nothing to do with them being third years and everything to do with them having to deal with Atsumu on a daily bases 😑

"YN, everyone is really sorry about everything! We all had bad days too and it wasn't fair for us to take it out on you."

Deep down inside, you know this is true

These boys would never intentionally hurt your feelings

Not even Atsumu could do that to you YN

"I Know, I- I think I just need to go home"

You can't confront them right now

After a day like today, everyone just needs to clear their head 😕

You silently get up and leave as Michinari and Omini look at each other

They know they all messed up royally

You leave and the two men go back to the gym

Kita and the rest of the team and sulking

Like I think these guys really can get discouraged

They are super confident but like they get really sad when things don't go how they planned

"Yn left for the night, she's really upset"

Now, hear me out... they won't go after you

I know I know ✋️

But seriously I think these boys realize they won't be able to fix things with you right away

Or at least Kita and Suna know this

The other ones want to go to you asap

Literally 🏃‍♂️ to you

But they are persuaded to wait

Kita calls a team meeting and they all make plans to apologize tomorrow

However 👀 when you don't ahow up at school or practice the next day, all plans go out the window

Like common sense? We don't know her 💅

These boys ✨panic✨

They haven't had practice without you since, well like FOREVER

How do you expect them to function YN? 🤔

Who will fill water bottles? Who will grab towels?

WHO WILL PRAISE ATSUMU???

They don't even bother to start practice

Kita says they are all running to your house to get you

Suna suggests they take the train

Kita is not completely willing to give up all of practice

Please, these boys will run around the world for you YN

So when you are in bed, downing your sorrows in sweets and trashy TV, a literally skulk of foxes pulls up

Side note: a group of foxes is called skulk 🦊

Look at me out here educating today's youth 😌

NE WAYS Atsumu and Osamu start shouting for you while Kita takes a much calmer approach and knocks on the door

Suna texts you

When you open the door, they immediately bombard you

"YN FORGIVE US AND PLEASE COME BACK" 😭😭😭😭

Please they are begging YN

Like Aran is hugging you 😫

Take pity YN

"Umm hey guys-"

"We are so very sorry for how we treated you yesterday YN. Please forgive us and come back?"

You stare in stunned silence

Finally you laugh 😃

They thought you were leaving them 🤣

"You guys! I could never leave you!"

Seriously YN, it's group hug time!

Cuddle puddle 🥺

There is a visual sigh of relief and a moment of silence

It doesn't last long 😌

Atsumu can't stand silence for more than 5 seconds 🙄

"Ok well that's too much emotions for me, let's get back to practice!"

They all agree, except Suna

"Umm guys I'm in my pajamas. I can't go to practice"

They all stare 👁👄👁

YN in pajamas??

Oof ok that's enough

That's a topic for a different set of headcannons 👀

"How about I get dressed and we all hang out?"

The team agrees

Hug them all again YN

Because no matter how much these guys drive you insane, you know they will always love you ❤️

[favoure]

Coffee shop au where Scar gets this personally interesting group of friends as regulars during his shift, and they always take turns in ordering. They frequent the shop so much that Scar has their antics committed to memory.

The friendly, wide man likes giving him a high-five or a fist bump before reciting the group's order.

The calm, cheerful girl greets him 'Good morning!' everytime without fail, /except/ when she's having a particularly bad day. That's when Scar comes in to give her an extra cookie, free of charge.

The lad with a fancy moustache has his friends' orders memorized, but he always pauses for a moment to switch up his order. Sometimes he asks Scar for recommendations, and sometimes he ends up with the same old order.

The small, cranky man in the red sweater, however, has never ordered at the counter. Not that it bothers Scar, like, why would it bother him? It's not that Scar's particularly curious about him or whatever.

He sighs as he grabs his apron to get ready for another shift. "Yeah. Keep telling yourself that," he mumbles under his breath.

---

Sooner or later, the cafe door jingles to welcome a familiar group of regulars. Scar notes that everyone was more cheerful, save for the sweater-clad man whose scowl seems deeper than usual.

"Come on, it's about time you ordered for us too!"

"But—"

"You already know the list, and Mumbo's given you the money. You're good to go!"

"But I—"

"Thanks Grian! We'd be waiting at the usual table!"

"Damn it," the small man — Grian? — mutters under his breath. "Why'd I have to go today of all days..."

"Bad day?" Scar asks, hoping for an opening to a conversation. The other man nods, propping one of his arms atop the counter.

"Yes — /finally/ someone noticed!" He groaned. "My friends seem to be blind that I'm having a particularly bad morning today, what with the fact that I almost woke up late and instantly get greeted by my cats fighting. Or maybe they noticed and are just ignoring it. I don't really know," he sighs.

Curse Scar and his selective hearing because it's probably not the best thing to say, but he perks up, smiles, and immediately asks:

"You have cats?"

---

Pause.

Grian needs to take this in for a second.

Did this guy at the counter always have a contagious smile or did he simply never notice?

"Yeah, I have two. I love them, but /god/ it doesn't help when things like that happen on a bad day," he replies, exasperated. He doesn't know why he's ranting to a cafe counter worker at 9AM in the morning, but here he is.

The counter guy — Scar, Grian noted upon seeing his name tag — nods in understanding as he presses buttons on the counter terminal. "Yeah, I feel that. Jellie's wonderful, but cats can be a bit too much sometimes. It's alright to feel that way!"

He looks back up to Grian and smiles. "I hope your day gets better though!"

That smile.

Suddenly he wasn't so irritated anymore.

Grian isn't one to curse, but what the fuck.

"Did you just magic my bad day away?" He blurts out, baffled. He's very sure that he messed up the grammar there somewhere, but he can't get himself to care at the moment.

Scar laughs, and god, Grian hopes he never laughs again because there's no way someone can legally be this bright and contagious. "Did I? Man, I'm glad! I even snuck in an extra thing for you in case the talking didn't work."

He nods towards the counter in between them and Grian finds a receipt, already printed out and ripped off the register.

There's no way.

He scans the receipt and finds their orders listed out perfectly, save for an extra order at the end of the list.

Sticky toffee pudding.

There's no way this man is real.

"How'd you know I liked this pudding?" Grian asks in bewilderment as he hands Scar their payment. The man simply shrugs. "Lucky guess. I'll call you when your order's ready!"

---

As he watches Grian rejoin his group of friends, Scar finds himself chuckling.

"Yeah," he grins as he gives a little wave to a winking Pearl. "There's no way I'm telling him that it wasn't a lucky guess."

[🌻]

SUNFLOWER ANON MY BELOVED....... SO SORRY THIS TOOK A WHILE TO GET TO BUT MAN MANNNNN I LOVE THIS SM........... coffee shop aus......... one of my weaknesses fr they're so cute if done correctly n this is just MMMMWAH [CHEF'S KISS]

[innerchorus]

After hearing bad news about my device (gotta buy a new keyboard for it bc without the keyboard I can't charge the damn stylus what is this stupid design choice— and I can't even find the keyboard being sold anywhere despite looking for basically half the day) and coming home extremely cranky, I'm going to dump my brain vomit on you 😭

Forgive me if these are incoherent because I also got my booster shot today and my head is hella cloudy.

Where I'm from, in our traditional wedding ceremonies, there's a part of it where the bride and groom link hands, and placed over a gold/silver/glass basin half-filled with water, and then a white cloth is wrapped around the joined hands and perfumed water is poured over it. I really like this idea so maybe it could be part of clan wedding traditions?

And heck, since the clan wedding involves planting a tree together, why not have them hold a seed in their joined and wrapped hands, and as they say their vows they'd have to channel magical energy into it, to mirror the way Araya's healer had unintentionally brought forth the Moon Tree.

Somewhere during the ceremony the couple fastens the bracelets on each other's wrists. This would have to take place before the whole wrapping situation, I'm realizing 🤣

The couple would be facing the Heart Tree, also probably facing north? That would be the clan's favored direction. But they could be facing towards each other before the time comes that they must say their vows.

And maybe there could be a part where all the wedding guests would take turns blessing the couple, maybe with a specific spell, maybe some would even come up with their own poem for the occasion.

I envisioned the couple sharing the same... what's the word— veil? blanket? I don't even know— on their heads and shoulders? I'm supposed to be a writer and I can't describe it 😭 I think that part would probably come after the vows are said. The ones to place that cloth over their heads would be their family members, maybe preferably older family members or mentors or such. (In Kazai and Shapur's wedding, that should've been Ayunnen and Kashi, had they lived) Sharing that shawl or veil or whatever could symbolize the couple sharing their burdens and comfort with each other as they face the adversities of life.

The couple walks together, their hands still linked with the cloth around it, in search of a place to plant the seed. The guests would sing as they follow and look for a good place too.

The clan head would be the one officiating the ceremony. The placing of the seed in the couple's hands, the wrapping, those would be done by the clan head and they could also initiate the process of vows, maybe asking questions kinda situation?

Weddings wouldn't be set on winter solstice and the week (or ten days) surrounding it.

Not sure what time of day weddings should take place: I've already placed both the solstice celebration and the coming-of-age ceremonies at night but hmm... Dusk? Dawn?

In any case though, magic would be involved.

The planting of the seedling would be the closing act of the ceremony. I can't figure out what comes after. Oh oh oh the couple can decide beforehand what species of tree they want to plant.

And then there's the little things about Zoroastrian wedding customs that I found:

“During the service married female relatives hold a fine scarf (nowadays usually white) over the couple's heads. At the same time two crystallized sugar cones are rubbed together, to sweeten the couple's life.

Then two parts of the scarf are sewn together with needle and thread to symbolize the uniting of the couple for the rest of their lives.

Traditionally, both bride and the bridegroom dress in white. The colour white is a symbol of purity in Zoroastrianism.”

×

“During the service female relatives of the couple (mainly the bride) hold over the couple’s head a fine scarf or other delicate fabrics like silk. Till 19th century this was green, Zoroastrians favorite color, now other colors particularly white are used as well.”

“During the ceremony rice is often used as a good luck symbol, with the bride and groom sprinkling each other with cupfuls of rice. So as to remove any evil destined for the groom an egg is passed round his head three times then thrown to the ground and broken, destroying the evil with it. A similar ritual is then performed with a coconut, and then with a small tray of water which is thrown to the ground.”

×

“Two different actions take place at the same time. Two pieces of crystallized sugar (shaped like cones) are rubbed together, a symbolic act to sweeten the couple’s life together. In the second act two parts of the same fabric are symbolically sewn together with needle and thread. The ceremony is suggestive of the ancient traditions when the bride and groom’s ceremonial belts (koshti) were tied and sewn together. Zoroastrians today hold over the grooms head a tray on which two pieces of cloth are united together, with needle, thread, scissors, a raw egg, a pomegranate or apple, dried marjoram, and white sweetmeats, all covered by a green kerchief. Koshti are ceremonial belts that are given to all Zoroastrians to mark the passage from childhood to adulthood. This is a rite of passage and is a very significant ritual in their lives. The symbolic act of sewing the bride and groom’s koshti together is uniting the couple for the rest of their lives, a knot is tied that should not be broken or separated.”

×

“At a point during the evening the groom will dip his hand into a water-pot (var-behendoo) which was part of the dowry. Into this pot he drops a silver coin, as a mark of appreciation for the gift.”

I forgot to copy the texts but the groom is placed on the right-hand-side of the bride because the right side is considered a direction/position of respect. I read once that Zoroastrian weddings take place at dusk? I might be remembering wrong. Oh and also they face east.

So for Shapur and Kazai's wedding... I have a few rough ideas on mish-mashing certain aspects of both traditions. For example the cloth being held above the couple's head, could later on be the same cloth the couple has to share as they search to plant a tree. The thing with the silver coin, but instead of a pot it goes into the basin in which they'll have to place their joined hands in. And of course sugar is involved.

I feel like it still needs a whole lot more fleshing out and polishing, but right now my head is really foggy and I'm just gonna go take a nap 😭

Ooh there are so many good ideas in here (I only really skimmed the articles on Zoroastrian marriage customs before). The integration of the the joined/wrapped hands sounds great, especially linking it to the clan's own mythology/origin! And the tree seed, and that they get to choose themselves which type of tree they're going to plant! That's a lovely addition, the growing of something new to mark the start of their life together.

I kind of feel like, if you're aiming to pick a specific time of day for clan weddings to take place, dawn seems a good option? Both because you already have other events taking place at night, and because dawn signifies beginnings, as in the start of their joined lives after the wedding ceremony, I guess? Perhaps some kind of pre-wedding tradition could happen at dusk before the day of the wedding itself, if you like that idea.

Are you going to have Shapur and Kazai dress in white? Is that the norm for clan weddings? It's funny that the article mentioned green as a previously-favoured colour (for the scarf) because I always thought Shapur would look good in dark green. (In yet another fic that I never actually wrote, I was going to have him dress in it for a formal occasion.)

I'm sorry there was more bad news about your device, that really sucks. I hope you've managed to find the right keyboard for it by now!