#sorry for any mistakes. I am new to tumblr too and only know a little how to use it from my friend teaching me

[illyrianwingss]

Finished the acotar books a year ago and all I wanna say is

Nesta is the best character and will always be famous.

I love the inner circle even if they have done some questionable things. It’s a fantasy world they do not have to live up to your modern day moralities.

Everyone of these characters could be morally grey and do things that morally grey characters typically do.

The Valkyries are my favorite found family and sjm peaked when she wrote their friendship.

The Gwynriel and Elucien book is going to make me so happy.

Cassian is a good person and is overhated largely in this fandom.

Nessian is my favorite fictional couple. They still have a lot of healing and growth to do together but that doesn’t make them bad. sjm took a more realistic approach at a relationship for them and people are thrown off by it. But it is clear they hold a lot of love for one another.

antis who want a fake nessian bond but are anti elriel for this reason will always be confusing to me.

Nesta is one of sjm’s best written characters. And she is way too overhated for the dumbest reasons.

Lucien is precious. I shall protect my preciousness.

Eris is a compelling character.

I love the books how they canonically are with some fanon mixed in. This doesn’t mean I have surface level thinking.

Some people take the books too seriously and make it more than what it is, sjm didn’t intend for this. Enjoy them how you wish but don’t make the fandom less enjoyable for others.

[fev3rish]

THREE ISN’T A CROWD. ami wakita x reader x kenji sato (2.7k words)

In which Ami and Kenji find a piece of their hearts in you.

warnings. reader is a college graduate (23ish), emi appears only briefly in this and doesn’t interact with reader. i finished this in one day and barely proofread it. notes. no one: me, ( @victoirey ) after returning to tumblr after almost a year in hiatus, with a new alias and a new account: hey y'all...

but really i do hope y'all enjoy this little comeback!! I watched Ultraman completely sleep deprived, so i’m real sorry if there are any errors !! YOU HAVE ALL NEGLECTED AMI WAKITA TOO MUCH. I am taking my seat as the first person to ever post an x reader that included her 🙏 reblogs appreciated more than likes! let me know what you think!

it starts with Kenji & Ami. The tension between them is too strong to cover up as just friendly, and against his better judgment, Kenji can be a weak, weak man. Ami is as beautiful as she is elegant and kind. she’s also irresistible. So, Kenji asks her out on a date.

They go together well. Ami is a caring girlfriend, & Kenji, although a busybody—is a sweetheart to her. Their relationship is stable for the most part, and while Kenji does have trouble communicating, Ami is everlastingly patient.

five months into their relationship, Ami meets you.

You are just stepping into the real world, having graduated college a month ago and starting things off slowly. She remembers you, you interned at the company she worked for. You had done well—and they had requested to have you work full-time.

You were as competent as she expected; having been asked to take you under her wing until you were skilled enough to become a senior journalist like she was, she threw you into the career mercilessly. Maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn’t—but Ami had good intentions. She had expectations for you.

You exceeded them.

When Ami first took you under her wing, she expected you to have a hard time adjusting. You did, make no mistake, but not for long. It seems you just naturally coordinated well with her—it kind of pissed her off. You were so good at your job, and you were both such a good team. She can only imagine how much better you’d be once you finally became a senior journalist. 

“Ms. Ami?” She jolted in her seat. Her eyes scanned around the room for who called, and her eyes landed on you. Ah, yes. That’s right, she’d asked you to fetch some of the papers she printed from the printing room a couple of minutes ago. She smiled kindly, welcoming you in.

“Your papers.” “Thank you.”

As you handed her papers over, Ami’s eyes landed on your hands. She didn’t know what came over her.  She shook your hands the first time she met you, she’s given you high fives before, so why did it feel different now? Why was there a spark so suddenly?

—And as she indulged in her own selfish desires, letting her hand caress yours as you handed her the papers, why did she want it to last longer? You left the room, smiling at her one last time. Her eyes creased as she smiled back, but you never had the chance to see it. She wishes you did. Would you have reacted to it? Why did she care so much? Ami gulped nervously.

This was a problem. Ami’s growing feelings were a big, big problem. You had her wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know. Kenji was clueless. Ami wanted to keep it that way; she loved Kenji the same way she always did after all: infinitely.

Polyamory wasn’t new to her, but it also was. She’s known of it, she’s known how it worked, courtesy of a boring day, free will, and Google—she didn’t know she would actually be considering getting into it!

It gnawed at her, and she refused to get into it with anyone. Even her darling boyfriend, who noticed, and asked about it. Ami shut down any attempt to ask what was wrong with a newly discovered fire, saying that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. She wasn’t. 

Besides, Kenji had a scheduled interview with you in two hours! He had better things to worry about. 

Kenji was used to reporters trying to get his attention.

That’s how he met his love, Ami. She wormed her way into his heart and showed him what balance meant, and unknowingly, she also helped him with Emi. He owed Ami more than she knew, and he was planning on paying that debt in full—hopefully, she would accept payment in love. 

Kenji is head over heels for his girl by the time you enter the picture, and he sits down with you for an interview. 

It was an idea Ami put into your head, and you set to work—shyly asking the woman if she could schedule you for an interview with the athlete. You wanted to exceed your own expectations for yourself, and you thought that a face-to-face interview with a (truthfully, intimidating) athlete would get you there. Ami grinned once you opened up to her about it, and she agreed.

So now, here you were.

twiddling your thumbs and clicking your pen, you waited for the famous Kenji Sato to arrive at the table you had reserved. You didn’t know when you started spacing out, but when you snapped back in—he was already in front of you, awaiting your next move. The pen you clicked was gripped with such fervor as you tried to collect yourself, sheer shock filling your veins because how could you just space out like that—

“You’re going to interview me, yeah?” The star had asked, and you swallowed the blockage in your throat, flustered. “Yes, yes, Mr. Sato—“ You blurted out, obviously unprepared. 

Kenji would never admit it, but he thought it was cute. It was really, really cute. You could say your own embarrassment charmed him, with how he spoke to you in response. His tone was calm, soft; friendly. “Hey, hey—loosen up, it’s all good. It’s nice to meet you.” 

Your mouth went dry. He only smiled even more, and before you knew it—as if his inner peace was contagious, you breathed in and out. Then, you smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Sato.” You had replied, “I take it Ms. Ami has filled you in on me, yes?” He nodded, and that’s where it all truly began.

You had cracked a joke, and he cracked up. You had asked such deep questions, ones that made it seem like you weren’t trying to garner answers from the Baseball Star Kenji Sato, but rather from just Kenji Sato himself. It was refreshing. His posture slouched as he joked around with you, and it was then he realized why Ami and you seemed to get along so well. You were…for lack of a better word, you were pleasant to be around.

Kenji only got closer to you. It seemed like you were everywhere he & Ami were, and wherever you were—you indulged in nice little conversations. Most of the time, he really only planned on saying hi—and most of the time, he and his girl just caved and started gossiping with you for a good thirty minutes.

Ami & Kenji had shared their personal numbers with you by the fifth time you three ran into each other, and eventually, you started hanging out outside of your own professions. Informal hangouts, at the most spontaneous of places. Kenji & Ami, who had recently revealed they were dating you—basically adopted you. Think of it like the “mama y papa” audio, but it’s you recording—and the other two are being mama and papa.

Of course, fate works in confusing ways. You ended up in a conflicting situation.

You noticed things you didn’t even notice about yourself, like how Kenji’s smile was a bit lopsided when he laughed but only around you two, or how Ami’s eyes sparkled most whenever you were hanging out in the local cinema and the light landed on her just right.

Your love for them did not hit you like a truck. It was like you knew. It was a pat on your shoulder, just to catch your attention. It did.

It gnawed at you like it did Ami.

Kenji, unlike the two of you, was positively clueless to the point that it was almost cute, as irritating as it was. He didn’t know he felt some type of way about you, he just thought the blush that formed in his cheeks was because of the fact Ami was near, not because you laughed so shamelessly and so prettily at a joke he came up with. 

He loved Ami a lot, almost to the point it suffocated him, and he still did when he started feeling that same way about you. That’s when he realized. He realized that maybe, he liked you; but he was so confused. He had Ami, and he felt the same way about her, so why did he feel the same way about you?

It was then a thought went into his head. He likes Ami, and she has a suite reserved for her in his heart—but what if that suite was built for two?

Fortunately, when that thought comes into his head, Ami enters his bedroom and finally asks him to talk.

Unfortunately, it is one of the rare situations Ami doesn’t know how to begin, and Kenji is an amateur communicator.

“So.” Ami clicked her tongue. “So?” Kenji tilted his head, resting his chin on his closed fist as he sat on the edge of his bed— Ami right next to him, although the woman could not even look in his direction. Ami poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, uncharacteristically unsure. She sighed and then started. “Them.”

Them.

You. Ami meant you. Kenji knew that from the get-go, it was always you, you, you. You were their soft spot, as much as they were each other’s soft spot. And you didn’t even know.

“What about them?” Kenji replied. Ami sucked in a breath and placed her hand over Kenji’s own. “I… I want—“ Ami stammered, scared; how would Kenji react? “I want to love them. I want them as much as I wanted to love, and still want to love, you.” Ami whispered. Kenji looked at his Ami, and he sighed, but it wasn’t in disbelief. No, instead, he was relieved. He looked at Ami and responded, “Me too.”  

“Si- What? Since when?” The woman stammered. “Since they laughed at my joke that one time last month when we hung out at the festival.” He replied, not facing her but smiling nonetheless. “How about you?” He inquired.

“Since they delivered the papers I asked them to pick them up from the printing room,” Ami replied, still shocked. Kenji just laughed, sprawling himself out on the bed. Ami looked down on him, “Do you… Have you heard of polyamorous relationships? Of throuples?”

“Of course I have. It wasn’t really a common sight back in America, but it also wasn’t rare to just look at a group of people and go, ‘Oh, they definitely have group cuddles at night.’ “ Kenji laughed, and Ami scoffed.

“…Well, do you wanna try it out?”  She bit her lip, trying to test the waters. “With them, I mean.” Kenji looked at Ami, then at the ceiling. Then, back at Ami—and back to the ceiling. “Well, fuck.” He groaned,but Ami could hear the crack of a smile. “It wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Ami shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not if it’s them.”

“You’re so corny.”

Ami & Kenji invited you out the following week, and three hours before the prior hangout, they were both freaking out over how to properly ask you about it. Mina had to intervene a bit. They were disturbing Chiho, after all.  

With bated breath and flowers in both of their palms, they watched as you walked into the restaurant and greeted them. You slid into the empty booth, sitting across from them as you questioned why they had decided to meet you here so suddenly.

Ami wanted to slowly guide you into it, but Kenji wanted you to join as soon as possible. He interrupted his girlfriend, blurting out how they ‘wanted you to be their girlfriend because you’re really cool and would fit right in’

Ami looked at him like he had grown two heads. You fixed your collar as you processed his words in shock, and then—finally, you quietly accepted.

“I’d like that.” You whispered before Ami could tear through Ken. Their heads snapped in your direction, Ami’s eyes widened beyond belief and Kenji with the biggest grin you had ever seen him don. “Are you serious? Are— Are you certain?” Ami nagged. You shrugged and nodded. “I mean, I’ve... I’ve liked,” You really, truly, and utterly meant love—but that.. was scary. “I’ve liked you two for a while now—and if you’ll have me, I’d love to join your relationship.” You concluded. Kenji’s grin got impossibly wider, “So it was that easy?!” He exclaimed, and Ami smacked him upside the head. You laughed. Kenji did too, & Ami’s eyes creased the way you always loved, as a bright smile made its way to her face too. She looked at you, a bit unsure, but nonetheless determined.

“We’re all new to this. Let’s take it slow, okay?” You nodded. Kenji only raised his hand and went, “Waiter! Can we get some drinks in here? For a celebration!” 

Looking at Kenji’s toothy smile, and Ami’s content expression, you perked up. You had waited for your turn at the rollercoaster of love, and now you were buckled in. It would be a hell of a ride.

Ami and Kenji will run you ragged (positive) adapting to their love languages. Kenji is very physical, he likes to give you two back hugs, and he does them way too often than he should. Ami, however, is more of a quiet lover, but you know she loves you. Your proof? The fact she orders for you and gets it right all the time, the way there’s always food made when Kenji and you sleep in—and the tender way your hair is combed when you first sleep in the same bed as them.

Her love language is acts of service if you couldn’t tell.

Ami & Kenji, in contrast to other throuples, usually schedule dates where all three of you can spend time with each other. They want to spend as much time with you as they can, both being as busy as they can be—with Kenji being a part of the Giants and also literally Ultraman, and Ami being a renowned journalist, there is not a day where they yearn for you three to reunite once more. Of course, while Kenji is busy—Ami and you always cuddle, and vice versa, but they truly prefer three-way dates. Triple the love, Kenji says.

When you met Chiho, she put her Ultraman mask on you first thing. You laughed and placed it back onto her head—stating that she fit it much better than you did. Kenji joined in, too. The two of you played with Chiho, not knowing that Ami, in her study, was watching over you three: love clouded her eyes as she watched Kenji lift Chiho up, her Ultraman mask on, as you, the ‘villain’, cowered in fear of the mighty superhero she was.

Chiho clung to the three of you like glue after that. All she knew was that Mr. Kenji and Mama loved you as much as they loved each other. That was enough for her to love you even more.

You and Ami aren’t that stupid. You both know who Ultraman truly is—you both know what Kenji’s hiding. even if you aren’t admitting it. You just both remember to shower him with a little more love when he takes a nastier beating.

It takes Kenji five months to finally confirm it, though. He says he’s Ultraman and he can’t even look you both in the eyes. His pretty skin is bruised, and his eye is beaten black. You and Ami look at each other, then at him.

The two of you treat him tenderly, an ice bath having been prepared. He swears he’s in heaven when he sees his two sweethearts lean over the bathtub to give him kisses—a kiss from you on the left, and a kiss from Ami on the right. He asks you both to join him and you shut him down. Boyfriend or not, an ice bath is an ice bath… and an ice bath is freakishly, freakishly cold.

That same night, you lure Kenji into bed, Ami already tucked into the blankets as she opens up Netflix and smiles at the two of you. Kenji takes his place in the middle, ready to be coddled because the Lord knows he needs it with how stressed he is.

You place a hand on his chest to give him a kiss on the forehead, and Ami rests her head on his shoulder. Kenji can’t even focus on the movie, he can only focus on the two of you. He wonders if the two of you feel the same way he does; he already has his answer: Yes.

He feels so loved.

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (1)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Other Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, he's extremely rude, like extremely so, prank gone wrong, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, reader faints at the sight of blood, unfunny pranks, Yoongi is jaded, he's a softie once you get to know him, hospital visit, non-descriptive male masterbation, reader has a stutter when nervous, Yoongi just being in denial for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Another old draft I found buried in my Google Docs! I didn't need to change too much, and it's very loosely edited, so please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes. This was rather long (and I don't know why I never posted it), so it had to be split into two parts because of Tumblr's new rules. Thanks for reading!

Next

Subject: Undergrad Mentoring From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 6:18 AM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,  

I’m forwarding an email from a brilliant undergraduate. Have you thought about mentoring a student? I really think you should.  

— Jin  

---

From: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 2:08 AM   To: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Subject: Undergraduate Research  

Dear Professor Kim,  

My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m a junior in the School of Arts and Sciences, majoring in microbiology. I’m incredibly interested in undergraduate research, particularly in your fascinating work on Helicobacter pylori and its connection to stomach cancer.  

Although I don’t have prior research experience, I’m hardworking and responsible, and I would appreciate the chance to join your team. Please let me know if you have space available in your lab.  

Attached are my CV and transcript.  

Thank you!  

Y/N Y/L/N  

---

Dr. Seokjin Kim Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

I stared at Jin's email, the words bouncing around in my head. No previous research experience? Oh great! Just fucking great!

As the clock hit noon, I trudged into the break room, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like a swarm of angry bees. It was my little escape, my sanctuary from the suffocating hallways of academia. Hoseok, the only graduate student I considered a friend, was already inhaling his lunch.

I plopped my Tupperware into the microwave, the day’s weight pressing down on me like a thick fog. “Jin wants me to take on an undergrad,” I grumbled, feeling the words stick in my throat.

“Seriously?” Hoseok asked, mouth half-full. He didn’t even bother to swallow before adding, “Have them do the dishes.”

“Oh man, this is going to suck,” I muttered, stirring my mac and cheese with the enthusiasm of a person headed to their execution. “I have to train her, and she has zero lab experience. I don’t have time for this crap.”

The microwave beeped, its harsh sound grating against my nerves. I pulled out my steaming food, the steam rising ominously. “I tried to get out of it, but Jin insisted it’s ‘all part of the training.’” I mimicked his voice, nasal and overdramatic. Hoseok chuckled, nearly choking on his food.

I dug into my lunch, my mind racing. “She’s probably some pre-med trying to pad her CV. Calling our research ‘fascinating’ like she even knows what we do here—just another cookie-cutter student firing off a hundred emails.” 

“Maybe she’s cute?” Hoseok waggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring him. My single status was a constant source of irritation for him. He meant well, but his attempts at matchmaking were like trying to fix a flat tire with a spoon.

“I already did my required TA-ing last year, and it nearly gave me an ulcer. I thought I was done with whiny undergrads! This really sucks!” The words burst out, hot and angry. The idea of babysitting a clueless student gnawed at me like a persistent itch.

I focused on my research, hoping it would be my ticket out of this academic purgatory. Mentoring an undergrad was the last thing I needed—a distraction threatening to derail my meticulously planned escape.

After lunch, I headed to the incubator to check on my cultures, the familiar hum a small comfort amidst the chaos. Then I settled at my desk, drafting a reluctant email to the undergrad, my words dripping with begrudging obligation.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Friday, January 14, 2024, 1:05 PM   To: ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Come to the lab on Monday between 8 AM and 7 PM. Bring your schedule.  

Yoongi Min PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

This was going to suck.

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi Min?” A stranger’s voice cut through the quiet of the lab, and I felt my focus waver. I was knee-deep in DNA sequencing data, desperately searching for a start codon when the interruption struck like nails on a chalkboard.

“That’s him over there,” Jimin, my lab mate, replied. I didn’t need to look up; I knew he was pointing at me.

“CTT ATC GTG ACT…” I murmured; eyes glued to the screen. The code demanded my attention.

A shadow crept closer, invading my peripheral vision. I ignored it, hyper-fixated on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” the shadow solidified into the undergrad I’d been dreading. I continued to stare at the screen, unwilling to break my concentration.

“Did you bring your schedule?” My voice was clipped, an attempt to maintain my rhythm.

CGC CTC CGT ATG… There it was! I highlighted the start codon, feeling a small sense of victory amidst the irritation. Finally, I turned to face her. She held a crumpled piece of paper in trembling hands.

The crackling noise of the paper grated on my nerves, and I snatched it from her. A quick scan revealed she had a limited availability. Tuesdays and Thursdays it was.

“Do you want one or two credits?” I asked, filling out her form with practiced efficiency.

“Oh… um… t-two,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Oh great, a stammerer. I disliked her already. My frustration bubbled beneath the surface.

“That’s ten hours a week,” I said, scribbling on the form. “Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, maybe some Wednesday mornings.” I thrust the completed form back at her and turned back to my computer.

“See you tomorrow,” I dismissed her with a wave, eager to end the interaction. Her stammering was already wearing on my patience.

When I returned from lunch, she was perched at my bench. A laugh escaped me at the sight of her attire.

“What the hell is that?” I pointed at her lab coat, which was covered in hand-drawn bacteria.

She jumped, eyes wide. “My la-la-lab coat?” she stuttered.

Oh great, she’s a fucking idiot.

I took a deep breath, scanning her outfit for safety violations. At least she wore closed shoes and jeans, but her long hair hung loose.

“You should tie your hair up. You’ll be working near the flame.”

She pulled a hairband from her wrist and started tying her hair back. As I walked past, I noticed the back of her lab coat had “Bacteria Rule” scrawled in huge letters.

Bacteria Rule? Is she serious? I wanted to stab my eyes out with the pen in my hand. Who wastes time drawing on a lab coat? Nobody in their right mind, that’s for sure.

Something was off about her—I was certain of it. Concerned about her competence, I decided she couldn’t be trusted with any real work. Instead, I assigned her mundane chores, the kind even a high schooler could handle. It might not have been what Jin envisioned, but it was the only way.

God, I’m already dreading this. Can it be Friday already?

Hoseok and I lounged in the break room, our feet propped up on the coffee table, Tupperwares in our laps. The lack of a proper dining table didn’t bother us; it still beat eating at our desks.

“How’s it going with the undergrad?” Hoseok asked, mouth full.

“I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her,” I said, dead serious.

Hoseok laughed, even though I wasn’t joking.

“All she does is nod at what I say,” I elaborated. “Like one of those bobblehead dolls.” I stretched my neck and bobbed my head for effect. “Except she has bangs flopping all over her face when she nods frantically at everything I say.”

Hoseok snorted but kept eating.

“And she stutters! Well, when she speaks, that is. She doesn’t speak much. I kind of like that about her.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in love, bro.”

“Fuck you, Hoseok,” I shot back, uninterested. I already knew where this was heading.

“Is she cute?” Hoseok asked, glancing at me with a smirk.

“She’s a baby.”

“Is she a cute baby?”

“Hoseok, she’s… she’s a zygote.”

“Well, maybe with this zygote, you’ll learn how to be human again.” He turned his attention back to his food.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You’re not exactly social, bro. All you do is lab stuff and occasionally hang out with me and Serena.”

“What are you talking about? I am social.” My tone came out whiny, betraying my disbelief.

“Oh, really?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, gesturing to my Tupperware. “So social that you prefer to eat alone in the lab over joining us in the break room?”

“Do you even hear yourself? You’re such a dork. I eat in here because the lab is a mess, not because I’m antisocial.” I shrugged, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Yoongi,” he laughed, clearly unconvinced.  

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about this right now. Instead, I grabbed my backpack, bracing myself for the next round of research duties.

After a few weeks of working together, I had to admit—albeit grudgingly—that the undergrad was following instructions better than I’d expected. If I could just ignore her ridiculous lab coat and the way those bangs flopped annoyingly over her forehead, she wouldn’t be half bad. The real annoyance, though, was her constant presence invading my space. But honestly, it could be worse; at least she wasn’t stammering nonstop. Most of the time, she barely spoke, and mercifully, she didn’t ask a ton of questions.

As I walked back from lunch with Hoseok, I was surprised to realize I didn’t dread the thought of the undergrad being in the lab when I arrived. Maybe having her shadow me wouldn’t be the end of the world after all.

Of course, the moment that thought crossed my mind, I jinxed myself. Stepping into the lab, I found her cleaning my bench, and a wave of irritation crashed over me. 

“What the heck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched, turning slowly to face me, her gloved hands still gripping an ethanol squeeze bottle. “I-I just thought I’d clean up a bit,” she stammered.

“Did you touch my samples?” I shot back, a surge of panic coursing through me.

“Which samples?” 

“Those!” I pointed at the upside-down tubes that had been perfectly positioned when I left, now carelessly shoved to the side. 

“I-I just mov—”

“Did you touch my RNA samples?” Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air—an annoyingly stupid fish. “Do you know how labile RNA is?”

“L-la-labile?” 

“Yes! Unstable—easily degradable. The main point here: you don’t touch my RNA samples!” 

“I-I used gloves… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tears shimmering in her eyes. 

If she started crying, I was really going to lose it. 

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm the storm brewing inside me. Slipping on my own gloves, I gently set my samples back in their rightful place, praying I hadn’t lost a week’s worth of work. 

I could hear her sniffling next to me, and I groaned out loud. “Why don’t you and your la-la-lab coat coat go find something useful to do?” 

I listened as she shuffled away, clearly eager to escape my sight. I should have known better than to think this arrangement would work out.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Monday, February 14, 2024, 6:27 AM To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Yoongi,  

Part of the undergrad training involves more than just doing chores. Cleaning dishes, stacking pipette tips, and capping tubes do not count as experiments.  

I expect your undergrad to have enough experimental data to give a presentation at the end of the semester.  

Jin  

What the hell? Did she tell him I’m only having her do chores? 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. 

Jin was right, though. All she’d done these past few weeks were chores. Aside from that little incident with my RNA samples, she hadn’t completely messed up yet. Maybe I should cut her some slack and give her a real project. She might learn something—or at the very least, realize how frustrating science could be and decide to give up on it sooner rather than later. 

Oh God, how was she going to give a presentation if she couldn’t even say one coherent sentence without stuttering? 

This would be an embarrassment, not just for her but for me too. If she messed up, she’d make me look bad. 

Decision made. I needed to lighten up a bit and actually try to teach her something.

On Thursday, the undergrad was busy with her chores when I approached her, project sheet in hand. 

She looked at it, her eyebrows raised. “What is this?” 

“Your project for the next few weeks.” 

Her face lit up with excitement. 

“You didn’t have to go crying to Jin. I was going to give you a project anyway.” 

Her smile faltered into a frown. “W-What are you talking about?” She gazed up at me, bewildered, but I waved her off, unwilling to explain further. 

“Enough chattering. Those tubes aren’t going to wash themselves.” 

Gotcha, undergrad. Your puppy dog eyes don’t work on me.

It was the first week of real work for the undergrad, and I felt a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. My palms were clammy, and my heart raced uncomfortably. 

Am I excited about this? Nah… I’m probably just hungry.

“Do you know what PCR is?” 

She nodded eagerly, pulling out her notepad, ready to take notes. 

I explained how I wanted her to amplify two toxin genes from a set of H. pylori samples that had just arrived that morning from the hospital. Naturally, I only gave her a small subset of the total samples. It was a manageable number—enough for her to play around with, but not so many that I’d be ready to murder her if she messed up.

As usual, the undergrad took notes on everything I said, jotting down even where I pointed out the locations of various equipment. For all I knew, she was sketching a detailed map of the lab in that notepad of hers.

The undergrad sat at the bench, PCR tubes lined up in front of her, the protocol to her left, pipettes to her right, and a rack of reagents looming in the back. I watched her as she stared at everything, nervously picking at the edges of her gloves. 

She was going to drive me insane. 

“Do you know how to use the pipettes?” 

She looked up at me, shaking her head timidly. 

“Why didn’t you say so?” My voice came out louder than intended, and she flinched. 

We were never going to get anywhere like this. 

I took a deep breath and tried again, grabbing one of the micropipettes. “You set the volume here.” I pointed to the rings. “Clockwise to increase, counterclockwise to decrease.” 

I demonstrated, twisting the rings as I explained the display window and where to discard the disposable tips when she was done. 

After a few trials, the undergrad carefully pipetted into the PCR tubes, preparing the reaction with surprising precision. 

She was focused, making sure not to contaminate anything. It was clear she was paying close attention to every detail. 

Skilled hands, I noted, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

I led the undergrad into the darkroom, where shadows clung to the walls like forgotten secrets, ready to ensnare us. The air was thick with a sharp, chemical tang, buzzing with anticipation as we approached the agarose gel. The PCR products shimmered faintly under the dim light, a hidden treasure waiting to be revealed. Surprisingly, a flicker of excitement sparked within me, a rare departure from my usual brooding.

“The ethidium bromide binds to the DNA,” I explained, my voice echoing softly in the sterile silence. “When we expose it to UV light, it fluoresces an orange color. You’ll see the PCR products light up on the gel.”

She walked beside me, clutching the gel like a sacred relic, her wide eyes absorbing every word. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, likely wishing she had her notepad to document my brilliance, as if capturing my words would somehow validate her existence.

As we stepped into the darkroom, she hesitated, like a deer caught in headlights, before gingerly placing the gel inside the UV box. She moved carefully, avoiding the pitfalls of air bubbles that could ruin everything. Either she’d done this before, or she had the sense to read up on it. 

Good. I liked a prepared undergrad.

Once she’d set the gel, I instructed her to turn off the lights. The room plunged into darkness, and I leaned in, my heart racing a little faster. Peering into the UV box, I couldn’t help but grin. “Well, look at that. All your reactions worked.”

“Really?” Her voice trembled from the back, laced with a quiver of hope.

“Yeah,” I called back, though the shadows played tricks on me. “Come closer so you can see.”

I waited, but she lingered in the gloom, frozen as if afraid to approach the light. “Come here, I don’t bite,” I coaxed, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.

Finally, she moved, her profile illuminated under the eerie purple glow. Her eyes widened, and a smile broke across her face like dawn piercing through a dark night. I snorted softly, amused by how easily undergrads were impressed.

After she soaked in the spectacle, I showed her how to take a photo of her gel, and we returned to the lab. She began dutifully filling in her lab notebook, and a glimmer of pride swelled within me. That was until I checked her progress later. The notebook was pristine—a meticulous record of her every move since day one. Hope flickered in my chest, only to sputter out when I turned to the last page. There it was, taped prominently: a picture of the gel with “All worked!” scrawled underneath, accompanied by a crude smiley face.

A fucking smiley face.

This undergrad, I thought, definitely had a screw loose.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” I glanced down at my sweater, a worn piece of fabric riddled with holes—just like my soul. It was what I had been wearing all day, and it sufficed. 

“It has holes in it.”

“And?” I shot back, genuinely baffled. It was just clothing—a shield against the chill of the world.

“Are you making a fashion statement? You do know grunge was over twenty years ago? I know you live in Seattle and all, but I’m not digging the Kurt Cobain look… at all.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I’m starting to regret bringing you to this.”

“Relax, it’s just beers with Hobi and Serena,” she said, rolling her eyes like I was some petulant child.

I raked a hand through my hair, but it sprang back defiantly, so I slapped on a beanie to cover the chaos.

“You know, Yoongi, it wouldn’t hurt to wash your hair once in a while. How are you going to meet any cute girls?”

Here we go again.

“Yoonji, would you get off my case? I don’t want to meet anybody.” 

Yoonji dropped in at least once a month, a whirlwind of concern and relentless nagging. She never believed me when I claimed to be fine over the phone. 

It was endearing, in a way, but mostly a burden I didn’t need. My family was my anchor, yet their relentless need to take care of me felt like shackles.

“Okay, okay... let’s go then.” 

“It’s just beers, for crying out loud.” 

“I’m telling you to relax.” 

In the car, I felt her eyes boring into me. “It’s just... I worry about you.” She brushed her hand along my arm, and I sighed.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, but I could see the disbelief flickering across her face. “Really. I’m just tired of school. I want to start real life already. I’ll be twenty-six this summer, and I’m still stuck in this academic limbo.”

“Hell, I’m twenty-seven!” Hoseok said when we arrived at the bar, lifting his pint in a mock salute. “And look at all the fuck I give!” He downed it with a flourish.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I shot back.

“Hey,” Serena interjected, her tone warning.

“It’s okay…” Hoseok waved dismissively. “He’s just got a bad case of graduate bitterness.”

Graduate bitterness... yes, that was exactly it. A malaise that settled in my bones like a persistent chill. I glanced around, my throat tightening as if the weight of my uncertainty was squeezing the life out of me.

I led the undergrad through the winding corridors of the building, our footsteps echoing like whispers in the shadows. She walked beside me in near silence, her gaze occasionally darting down to her notepad, scribbling furiously as if the ink might escape her. If only she spent as much time observing her surroundings as she did with her frantic notes, she wouldn’t need them to find her way back to the sequencing facility.

There was something peculiar about her. She avoided meeting my eyes, her demeanor skirting the edges of unease, a deep-seated shyness that pricked at my irritation. And Hoseok thinks I’m the antisocial one!

As we turned a corner, I pondered the unspoken rules of social behavior in the lab when we suddenly bumped into Jungkook Wand, another graduate student known for his knack for lurking around.

“Min,” he greeted, his gaze fixated on my undergrad, likely eyeing her in that ridiculous lab coat that looked like it had seen better days. Why she insisted on wearing that tattered garment was beyond me.

“We missed you at happy hour,” he added, his eyes still glued to her, ignoring me completely.

Every Friday, the department hosted a gathering that, while lame, at least offered beer. Last week, Yoonji was visiting, and I wouldn’t have dreamed of dragging her into that debacle.

“Yeah, my cousin was in town,” I managed, trying to shake off the feeling of being an afterthought.

Jungkook’s smile widened as he turned his attention to her. I should probably introduce them, but for the life of me, her name eluded me. Panic set in like a cold sweat.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin that felt a bit too eager.

Shit. What was her name again?

The girl glanced up at me, and a flash of annoyance crossed her features, as if she could read my mind. “I’m Y/N,” she said, her voice laced with indignation as she extended her hand. The scowl she shot me could peel paint off the walls.

Y/N. The name landed in my mind like a lead weight. How had I forgotten it?

Before I could muster an excuse, Jungkook was launching into conversation, his gaze lingering on her with a familiarity that irked me. I didn’t like Jungkook, nor the way he looked at my undergrad, so I steered her away from him, back toward the safety of the lab.

Now, what was her name again? Damn it.

The following week, I was knee-deep in sequence alignments at my cluttered desk when the fire alarm shrieked, slicing through the stillness like a knife. I turned to find my undergrad, her wide eyes betraying sheer panic. 

She thought it was real. In that moment, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. 

“Run, Becca! Run!” I shouted, leaping from my chair.

“What?” 

The color drained from her face, and I couldn't help but laugh as confusion and fear played out across her features— priceless. I doubled over, laughter bubbling out like soda from a shaken can. 

The alarm blared on, drowning out her startled gasp as she clutched a rack of tubes, trembling. “It’s just a fire drill! Relax!” I finally managed to gasp.

She set the tubes down, took a deep breath, and shot me a glare, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “That was not funny,” she huffed, her voice laced with indignation. “And my name is Y/N!”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me with echoes of my laughter still ringing in my ears. 

Oh, being social was unexpectedly entertaining!

The fire alarms continued to test my patience, ringing again and again. Each time, I chuckled at the memory of her startled expression. Now, standing outside for what felt like the fifth time, I glanced sideways at Y/N, who was shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands shoved into her pockets. 

“Want to grab some coffee?” I asked, feeling an odd urge to make amends.

She blinked at me, surprise flickering across her face as if she couldn’t believe I was actually talking to her.

The cafeteria at the library was our destination, and we walked in silence, the clouds parting for a moment to let in the faintest hint of sunshine. 

As we stood in line, I noticed her tense shoulders. Suddenly, she muttered a string of curses under her breath. Before I could react, her arm was around mine, grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

She maintained her smile but released me, stepping in front. “Say something funny,” she ordered, her voice low and urgent.

“What?”

Then she erupted in laughter, leaving me standing there in utter confusion.

She pressed a hand against my chest, and I wasn’t sure whether to be amused or alarmed. Was this how lab partners acted in her world?

But just as quickly as the laughter came, it faded, and she stepped back, looking sheepish, as if the moment had been a strange dream.

I moved up in line to get my coffee. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thanks,” she replied, shaking her head. I decided to drop the subject entirely.

As we started heading back, she caught up to me, her expression suddenly earnest. “I’m sorry,” she blurted. “There’s this guy, Jonah. He won’t take a hint. I thought if he saw me with someone…”

I tuned out her words, her rhythm a blur as I realized just how bizarre everything was.

Could undergrads get any weirder?

Sitting alone on a bench Wednesday afternoon, I savored the solitude when Jungkook appeared, looming over me like a vulture. 

“Min,” he said, his tone dripping with false familiarity.

I glared at him, not in the mood for whatever nonsense he was about to spill. 

“Where’s that cute little thing you were with?” 

“Who?”

“You know, the one in the colorful lab coat.”

Colorful? I snorted, recalling the eyesore she wore.

“She’s not here,” I replied curtly.

“Got her number?”

“Why would I have her number? And why do you want it?”

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his face. “You know… you and her…”

I cut him off, anger flaring in my chest. “Me and her what?”

“Is she up for grabs?”

I couldn’t believe he’d come to my lab just to ask about her.

“Jungkook, she’s an undergrad.”

He laughed, completely oblivious. “Dude, have you looked at her? She’s fine.”

“Yeah, and she’s crazy.”

“Even better!” His expression made my stomach churn.

“I don’t have her number, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”

With that, I shoved my earbuds in, blocking him out as he stormed off, his words echoing in my mind.

Fucking creep.

Even though it was Friday—one of those days Y/N usually avoided—the lab felt off-kilter, like an old, rickety house holding its breath. She hovered at my desk while I pulled up the sequencing results on my laptop. Last night, I’d sent her a simple email, expecting a casual response. But her reply had come back faster than a ghost in the night. She wanted to see the data today.

As we sat there, the silence between us thickened, almost palpable. Her face was a mask of concentration, but her expressions kept faltering, crumpling like old paper. Not that I cared too much; she had to learn that research was 90% disappointment wrapped in frustration.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness, as if she were mourning a lost hope.

“Maybe you made a mistake?” I suggested, trying to sound casual.

“I was very careful,” she shot back, defensive, her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

How typical. Pre-med students always thought they were immune to failure, that the universe owed them success on a silver platter.

“It happens,” I shrugged, trying to dismiss the tension.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her brows knitting together.

“There's a reason it’s called research. If you only had to do it once, it would be called a search.”

“So, what do I do now?”

“You start over.”

“From the beginning?” Her voice trembled, disbelief flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah.”

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she gazed at her notebook, defeated. Her eyes flitted to the calendar on the wall, and her pencil scratched furiously on the pad. “Can I come tomorrow? I want to have cells growing by Monday.”

Her eagerness surprised me. I added “overachiever” to the growing list of quirks that made Y/N so peculiar.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that.”

“Don’t you have a frat party to attend?” I quipped, but her glare silenced me, a reprimand that cut through the lab's sterile air. “Fine, come tomorrow,” I relented, knowing I’d be here anyway. Weekends in the lab were the best; no distractions, just the hum of machinery and the click of keys.

“Awesomesauce!” she chirped, her smile lighting up the dim room. I rolled my eyes, annoyed yet impressed by her determination. Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took for grad school after all.

Saturdays were sacred—my little slice of peace amid the storm of classes and lab reports. After a killer morning workout, I made my way back to the lab, my damp hair fluttering in the cool breeze. Just as I settled into my zone, my phone buzzed with a message that snapped me back to reality. 

“Mr. Graduate Student, I’m at the front of the building. Y/N.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her cheesy attempt at humor. By the time I reached the entrance, I found her wrestling with her hair, tying it up into a high ponytail that looked like it could give anyone a headache just by looking at it. But when she caught sight of me, her face lit up with a grin that could brighten the cloudiest day.

“Very funny,” I replied dryly as I held the door open for her. “It’s Yoongi, remember?”

As we stepped inside, the silence stretched between us, thick and awkward. I considered tossing out a quip about her hairstyle or her lab coat, but then a mischievous prank began to brew in my mind—dark and delightful, like a noxious weed spreading through my thoughts.

“Start your experiment from scratch,” I said, forcing a serious tone. “Could be that my reagents were contaminated.”

Her eyes widened, and I could barely suppress a smirk. It was a complete lie, of course; the old autoclave in the corner was already wheezing like an ancient beast. But picturing her panic was too tempting. 

Settling at my bench, I could barely contain my excitement. But instead of the expected rush of alarm, there was a loud crash—glass shattering like a million tiny dreams—and then silence. 

What the hell was that?

I found her on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass that sparkled like lost hopes. The autoclave hissed and wheezed, steam curling around us like a ghost. I rushed to her side, trying to stem the leak with my hands. 

“What happened?” I asked, crouching beside her. She looked like a wilted flower, her head buried in her knees, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you okay?” I tried again, dread pooling in my stomach as I saw her trembling hands. Her breath came in quick bursts, and my heart raced. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t catch, her palm pressed hard against her leg. “Let me see,” I urged, only to be hit with a wave of horror: a deep gash across her palm, crimson pooling onto the cold tiles.

Oh, no...

Panic surged as I scooped her up, her fragile body slumping against mine. “You’re okay,” I whispered, the words feeling hollow. “It’s okay.” 

I hurried her to the sink, the cool water a sharp contrast to the rising heat in the lab. She buried her face in my chest, her panic palpable against my shirt. 

“Is there still blood?” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly gone. But we need to get to the ER,” I insisted, urgency tightening my tone.

She groaned, eyes still shut tight, her composure slipping away. 

“Please, open your eyes,” I pleaded, gently lifting her chin. I rubbed my thumb along her cheek, trying to anchor her to reality.

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded weakly, but when she tried to stand, her legs buckled. I swept her back up, panic clawing at my throat. 

What have I done? The air felt thick with dread, and I knew I had to get her out of there. 

I carried her to my car, the world outside fading into a blur, as if the universe was holding its breath. Carefully, I placed her in the passenger seat, her eyes still shut like she was blocking out the horrors around us. I fastened her seatbelt, feeling the weight of the moment. "Please say something," I urged, glancing at her, desperate for any sign of life.

"I hate blood," she mumbled, voice fragile.

Relief washed over me—she was talking. It struck me as strange that a pre-med student would detest blood. "Are you still dizzy?" 

She nodded, and my heart sank at her admission. The crease in her forehead deepened, and I wanted nothing more than to smooth it away.

"We’ll be at the hospital in ten minutes," I promised, focusing on the road ahead.

"Would you distract me, so I don’t think about the blood?" 

"I don’t know how," I admitted sheepishly.

"Say something funny." 

"Funny? Okay. It’s pretty funny that you want to go to med school and you faint at the sight of blood." 

"Who says I'm pre-med?" she shot back, and I blinked in surprise.

"You're not?" 

"No, and that really wasn’t funny. Talking about blood isn’t going to help me forget about it." 

Frustration clawed at me as I struggled for something to say. 

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Don’t you know any jokes?" There was an edge of frustration in her voice.

"No." 

"Everyone knows at least one joke, Yoongi." The way she said my name sent a jolt through me, tightening my stomach with something close to admiration.

Before I knew it, I blurted out the lamest joke I could remember from college. "Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar," I began, watching her lips twitch upward. "One says, ‘I think I've lost an electron.’ The other asks, ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes. I'm positive.’"

I cringed at how cheesy it was, but when her smile finally broke through, it felt like winning the lottery.

"That was lame," she said, but the glimmer of her smile gave me hope.

At a red light, I risked a glance at her. Her eyes were still closed, but the pale green tint to her skin had faded, replaced by a healthy glow. My heart swelled with relief.

The driver behind me honked impatiently, snapping me back to reality.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, noticing her fingers curling around her injured wrist. 

She nodded, a pout forming on her lips that made my heart ache. I nearly missed a stop sign, cursing under my breath.

"God, I’m such a jerk," I muttered, guilt gnawing at me. I had messed up, all in the name of a stupid joke. I racked my brain for something else to say but came up empty.

"I don’t know any more jokes, but I was good at geeky pickup lines back in college," I offered, desperate to lift her spirits. Her smile returned, lighting up the car.

"This better be good," she warned teasingly.

"If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase, so I could unzip your genes." 

"Oh my God," she snorted, and I laughed, relieved to see her react. "Did you use that on anybody?" 

"Maybe," I hinted, my chest tightening with excitement.

"Did it work?" 

"No," I admitted, but I was laughing now, and she was grinning, even with her eyes still closed. I was determined to keep her smiling. 

"Oh! Do you like The Police?" 

"The police?" She frowned, confusion crossing her features.

"Yeah…" 

"As in the profession?" 

"No, you dork. The band. Sting's band?" 

"Oh, yeah. I guess." She shrugged.

And against my better judgment, I cleared my throat and began singing. "Every bond you break… Every electron you take…"

Finally, her eyes fluttered open, surprise and delight dancing across her face. I couldn’t help but wiggle my eyebrows, and her smile broadened, banishing the shadows of panic. "Oh, can’t you see, you’re covalently bonded to me…" I sang, pouring my energy into the ridiculousness of it. Nothing felt more beautiful than the light in her eyes. 

How had I never noticed how amazing her smile was before?

We pulled into the University’s Medical Center in under ten minutes, just like I expected. I parked quickly and rushed around to help her out, but she stumbled out on her own, nearly losing her balance. I caught her just before she could face plant onto the pavement—or worse, land hard on her injured hand.

I could feel irritation bubbling up inside me. Did she really think I wouldn’t help? Sure, I was an idiot sometimes, but I still had a decent sense of gentlemanly instincts. 

“Can you walk?” I asked, keeping my hand around her elbow as we approached the entrance.

“I think so,” she replied softly, but I kept my grip steady, guiding her into the emergency room. 

Inside, a flicker of relief hit me—the place was nearly empty, and we should get seen fairly quickly. “Hello,” I said to the front desk lady, who was glued to her computer screen. She glanced up, her expression completely bored, and didn’t reply. Instant dislike. 

“She cut her hand, and it looks deep,” I said, gesturing toward Y/N beside me.

“Name?” The front desk lady’s question hung in the air like a sword about to drop, and suddenly, I froze.

Goddammit…

She didn’t mean my name. My stomach twisted as I desperately searched my memory. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten her name again.

It starts with a B, doesn’t it? I racked my brain, stalling as the front desk lady’s eyebrows shot up impatiently.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” came the shaky voice next to me, cutting through my fog of embarrassment.

God, I was such an idiot! I wanted to punch myself for being so careless.

I looked at her—Y/N—and even though she shook her head, a grin crept onto the corner of her mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I was forgiven. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… I repeated silently, determined that this time I would remember.

I was convinced that the “doctor” tending to Y/N wasn’t a real doctor—not yet, anyway. He claimed the cut wasn’t deep and that it hadn’t damaged any tendons or nerves. He even said it was clean enough to glue shut, which apparently was a thing now. But my gut twisted with doubt; something about him set off alarms in my head.

Y/N had her eyes squeezed shut, clutching my hand like it was a lifeline while this wannabe physician—Doogie Howser, I mentally dubbed him—cleaned her wound. She perched on the examination table, her injured hand resting on a tray beside her, as I stood behind her, anxiety tightening my chest. In the chaos of her injury and my desperate attempts to care for her, her ponytail had loosened, hanging low at the nape of her neck. A sudden curiosity gripped me: What would her hair look like, cascading down like a waterfall?

“Y/N,” I whispered, leaning closer, needing to say her name again, to engrain it into my memory. “Breathe through your mouth. It’ll help.”

I lingered near her neck, unable to pull away, drawn by something I couldn’t quite name. I tried to find the words to describe her scent—something fresh, like the morning air spilling through an open window—but words failed me. I’d caught a hint of it earlier when I held her close at the sink, but now, in the confined space of the ER, it enveloped me, bringing back echoes of happier times.

Y/N smelled good—no, different. Refreshing, like the world waking up after a long sleep. And I was trapped in this moment, lost in the intoxicating blend of her presence and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

Every time she flinched, my instinct was to lash out at Doogie. I wanted to punch him for every wince that slipped from her lips, but I knew that wouldn’t help; it might just make things worse. I fought against the urge to ask the nurse for someone else to help her, terrified to leave her side. So I stayed, fingers entwined with hers, trying to offer some measure of comfort in the storm of uncertainty.

When Doogie finished and began to bandage her hand, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as she released her grip. I stepped back, taking a breath that felt heavy in my chest. Tension still coiled inside me; I hated that she’d gotten hurt, but a part of me marveled at her resilience. Despite her aversion to blood, she had held herself together with a strength I hadn’t given her credit for. There was more to Y/N than I realized, and that realization struck me hard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said once we were back in the car, the weight of guilt pressing down on me.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m such a klutz.” She offered a radiant smile that twisted my insides with guilt all over again.

“So, what happened?” I asked tentatively, hoping against hope that this wasn’t really my fault.

“I was carrying a rack of test tubes when that thing started shooting vapor out. I freaked out. I thought it was going to explode! So I dropped the tubes and cut my hand trying to pick them up,” she admitted, embarrassment creeping into her voice as she stared down at her hands.

I should have known...

“Shit…” I thumped my head against the steering wheel, frustration bubbling up inside me.

“Hey, stop.” Her hand reached up to my shoulder, a gentle gesture that only deepened my self-loathing. “You couldn’t possibly have known that thing was going to start leaking, right?” I peeked at her, guilt etched on my face. She scrutinized me, her brow furrowing as realization dawned. “You did know, didn’t you?” Her hand dropped from my shoulder, and I felt the accusation hanging between us like a thick fog.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” I said earnestly, trying to convey the depth of my regret, how much I hated myself for her injury.

“You’re unbelievably cruel!” she shot back, eyebrows knitting together as she glared at me.

She was right, but I felt compelled to explain. “There wasn’t any risk of you getting hurt. The door just leaks a little vapor. I was going to close it after you got scared. It was a stupid joke, Y/N. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“Well, excuse me for ruining your prank,” she snapped, rolling her eyes and turning away from me.

Sarcasm. Just lovely.

“I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?” I asked, keeping my gaze on her even though she pointedly avoided me.

“Whatever, Yoongi.” She shrugged, irritation radiating from her as she stared out the window.

I wanted to tell her she was acting like a child, but I held my tongue, knowing that teasing her wouldn’t help my case. Instead, I focused on driving, ruminating on how to make this right again.

How the hell do I fix this?

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” I said to Y/N, trying to sound calm even though a knot twisted in my stomach as I parked in front of the research building.

“This is really not necessary, Yoongi. I’m fine,” she replied, brushing off my concern.

“Y/N, can you please, just for once, not contradict me?” I shot back, frustration bubbling under the surface.

“I never contradict you!” she protested, eyes wide in disbelief.

I fixed her with a glare until the tension between us shifted, and a small smile broke through her pout as I climbed out of the car. Maybe I was getting through to her, even just a little.

I dashed into the lab to grab her bag, but was abruptly halted when I spotted Jimin hunched over her bench. An urge to warn Y/N about the mess brewing in the autoclave room hit me hard. 

“Jimin?” I called, feeling an unusual tension in the air as he turned to me, eyes wide like I’d just spoken an alien dialect. We rarely exchanged more than necessary pleasantries. “There’s a big mess in the autoclave room. I’ll be right back to clean it up.”

“And you’re telling me this why?” he shot back, still looking as confused as a cat in a dog park.

“There’s a bunch of glass… I don’t know. My undergrad—she dropped the tubes. I—” The words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, and Jimin continued to stare at me like I’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Never mind,” I muttered, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“How’s that for a change? First, you have her doing your chores, and now you’re cleaning up after her,” he called after me.

I spun around to glare at him, irritation sparking. Sure, he was right, but I had bigger problems than petty lab gossip. I left him behind, shaking off the encounter.

When I climbed back into the car, Y/N was waiting for me, eyebrow raised, holding a CD case. My stomach dropped as I recognized it—my mom’s treasured Carpenters album.

“Really, Yoongi?” she asked, her smile widening. “The Carpenters? Okay, cool.” She casually tucked the CD case back into the glove box.

She was teasing me—smiling at me. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she had forgiven me after all.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her face, how her smile lit up the whole car. It was stunning; how had I never noticed it before? A pang of regret hit me for all the moments I had let slip by.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to reality.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh, how’s your living situation?” I mumbled as I started the car and drove off, reminding myself to keep it together. She’s just an undergrad, I thought, shaking off the flutter in my stomach.

As I parked in front of her building, my chest tightened again. I was still angry—mostly at myself—for letting her get hurt. I wouldn’t feel at ease until she was safely tucked inside her apartment.

“Are you still dizzy?” I asked, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

“I think I’m all right now,” she replied, a small grin dancing on her lips.

Would it be weird if I walked her to her door? Did guys still do that? It had been ages since I’d been on a date. What was the protocol these days?

What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t a date.

But she didn’t look a hundred percent. Maybe carrying her bag would help. I climbed out of the car, and she shot me a bewildered look as I opened her door.

“I’ll feel better once I know you’re safe inside,” I insisted, my voice firm.

“I’m fine. You don’t hav—”

“Please, humor me,” I interrupted.

Y/N hesitated, then took my hand as she stumbled out of the car. I grabbed her backpack, and we walked inside together, a strange sense of connection warming the air between us.

At her door, she paused, her hand hovering over the doorknob. When she turned to look at me, her brown eyes sparkled with something I couldn’t quite pin down.

“I’ll see you Tuesday then,” I said, handing her the bag.

“Yes. Tuesday.” Her gaze flickered up through her long lashes, and I was momentarily mesmerized. “Not Monday.” A playful grin crept across her face, and I felt my breath catch at the sight of her eyes crinkling with delight. “You know why not Monday?”

I was still entranced by her smile and completely missed the point she was trying to make. “Because rainy days and Mondays always get me down,” she said, and heat rushed to my cheeks.

Great… she’s making fun of me.

I took a deep breath and snorted, forcing myself to look away from her lips. “You’re such a dork, Y/N. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“Too long.” Her giggle sent my heart racing, a rhythm I couldn't ignore.

“Good night, Y/N,” I replied, managing a smile despite my racing heart.

As I walked back to my car, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and was horrified to find myself grinning like a fool. I frowned and climbed inside, but before I could drive away, I pulled my mom’s CD from the glove box, popped it in, and began to hum along.

Why do birds suddenly appear… every time… you are near?

I slammed on the brakes and hit the eject button.

Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me?

Thankfully, when I returned to the lab, Jimin was gone. I started cleaning up the autoclave room, picking up shards of glass and mopping away the blood from the floor. As I worked, I spotted Y/N’s lab coat next to the sink, and my heart sank. It didn’t look festive anymore; it resembled a tattered Halloween costume.

Shit… She loved that ridiculous thing, and now it was ruined.

Before I knew it, I found myself washing the lab coat. I tried everything, even bleach. When I was done, the blood stains had vanished, but so had the whimsical bacteria drawings she’d painstakingly decorated it with.

Fuck my life...

When Hoseok called, I told him the chances of me making it to Serena’s party were slim. “I’m stuck in the lab and still have a long way to go,” I said, leaving out the details of my time spent doodling on a lab coat that now looked like a toddler’s art project. I also didn’t mention that I was starting Y/N’s experiment along with my own.

After inspecting the now-ruined lab coat, I realized I couldn’t give it back to her. Tossing it felt wrong, though—I’d just spent hours on the damn thing. So, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and tucked it under my desk, trying to forget it existed.

I left the lab after two in the morning, exhausted but restless. My mind buzzed with thoughts, not about experiments this time, but about Y/N—how she had gotten hurt because of me, and yet she hadn’t unleashed her fury. Somehow, she felt bigger than this. Bigger than me.

God, I’ve been such an asshole.

Images of her haunted me throughout the night. The way she smiled at my lame jokes, how she laughed at my terrible rendition of “Every Breath You Take.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sung to someone, not since my mom had forced me to sing The Carpenters with her. I turned over in bed, a smile creeping onto my face at the memory.

I didn’t have to be a jerk to Y/N anymore. I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t her fault grad school was a pain. If anything, having her around made it bearable. Maybe I could lighten up a bit… or maybe we could both learn something from this. No, I wanted to be nicer to her. I wanted to see her smile.

I want to make her smile?

First The Carpenters, now this?

When did I turn into such a marshmallow?

Monday night in the dingy gym felt like a scene straight out of a bad movie. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow that did nothing to uplift the atmosphere. Hoseok and I were at the bench press, trading off sets like two battered soldiers in a war that would never be chronicled. I stood behind him, bracing for the weight, but my gaze was pulled away, caught in the orbit of something infinitely more captivating.

There she was—Y/N—effortlessly gliding on the treadmill like she was born to run. Her ponytail swung rhythmically with each stride, a pendulum marking the time as she jogged. My breath hitched, a tightening in my chest as I let my eyes wander down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine. And then—oh God—those shorts. Tiny and black, they hugged her body in a way that made my heart race uncontrollably.

The fabric didn’t just cling; it cradled her curves, indenting just enough in the middle to draw the eye downwards. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her skin, my mind spiraling into places I really didn’t want it to go.

“Dude! Hold the bar, would ya?” Hoseok’s voice jolted me from my daze. I blinked hard, shaking off the spell as I refocused on the weights pressing down on him.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, fumbling with the bar as I lifted it off him.

Hoseok wiped the sweat from his brow, the glistening drops catching the unforgiving light. I tried desperately to keep my thoughts in check, to suppress the smirk that threatened to creep onto my face, but my eyes betrayed me, fixating once more on Y/N’s ass as it bounced with every determined step on the treadmill.

“What is it?” Hoseok shot me a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. He knew. Damn him. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

“Nothing,” I shot back, the word cracking like ice beneath my weight. I raked a hand through my hair, feeling more like a deer caught in headlights than a man. “That’s... um... that’s my undergrad.”

“Your undergrad?” He nearly shouted, and I winced at the volume.

“Shut up!” I hissed, heat creeping up my neck.

“She’s your undergrad?” He lowered his voice, his tone conspiratorial, as if we were discussing some top-secret mission.

“Yes,” I said, willing myself to tear my gaze from Y/N and muster some semblance of composure. “I don’t know why she’s here. This is the first time I’ve seen her in this gym.”

“Are you kidding?” Hoseok replied, incredulous. “She’s here all the time! You’ve just never noticed because you’re practically blind.”

My eyes darted back to her. She was still running, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing behind me. Could Hoseok really be right? Had I been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn’t seen her before?

But then again, I didn’t recognize anyone else in this place. I came here every day—every damn day—and not one face looked familiar. Blind. I was completely blind.

And yet, here I was, rooted to the spot, entranced by the hypnotic sway of her hips, the way her legs flexed with each determined stride. It was as if she had cast a spell over me, one I didn’t want to break. But I had to; I was standing there like a moron, the weight of Hoseok’s gaze a smirk stretched across his face as he shifted to take his place on the bench.

“Yoongi!” he called, pulling me from my daydream. “It’s your turn.”

I shook my head as if waking up from a fog and stepped to the bench, but my mind remained tangled in thoughts of what I’d just seen. Y/N’s form, bouncing like it was teasing me, was too much. Too distracting. My body was responding in ways I hadn’t felt in years, and it took every ounce of willpower to focus on lifting weights instead of ogling her.

Then, as if she sensed my eyes on her, Y/N turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with mine. For a brief moment, the world melted away—the gym, the weight, the noise—all faded into the background as our eyes met. She faltered on the treadmill, her grip tightening on the bars like a lifeline before she recovered just in time.

What was I doing? I didn’t realize I was moving until I stood beside her, the tension thick enough to slice through the air.

“Hi,” I managed, the word slipping out like a confession.

“Hi?” Her smile lit up the stale space between us, brightening everything. “Who are you and what did you do to my bitter grad student?”

“What?” I stammered, disbelief knotting my stomach. “You’ve seen me here before?”

*Her eyes rolled in a way that was both exasperating and endearing. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m saying hi now. So, hi.”

“Hi…” she giggled, and I felt a low groan bubble up from my chest. What was happening? I hated how she made me feel, how she toppled everything I thought I had under control.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, grasping for something to anchor myself in this whirlwind of emotions.

“It’s fine,” she said, lifting her bandaged hand like it was a trophy. But I was lost, mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, and how the sweat glistened on her skin.

I needed to leave before my body betrayed me further. “Um, I should go,” I interrupted, offering a shaky goodbye as I fled, a whirlwind of confusion and unwanted desire crashing over me.

What the hell was happening to me?

I ran home, my legs pumping, heart racing, trying to outrun the chaotic thoughts swirling in my mind. It had been four years since Estelle, and the memory felt as distant as a long-forgotten dream. But Y/N was everywhere now, invading my thoughts—her freckles, her laugh, those bangs that had once annoyed me but now framed her face like a masterpiece.

I stormed through my apartment, shedding my sweat-soaked clothes, bewildered by this tempest of feelings. I couldn’t fathom why it had taken me so long to notice her, why she had pierced through the fog of my indifference and settled in my mind like an unwelcome guest.

In the shower, the warm water cascaded over me, soothing yet insufficient to wash away the turmoil. She was a kid, for Christ’s sake! Nineteen? Twenty? Too young, too innocent for someone like me. I banged my head against the tiled wall, cursing my own weakness.

And yet, even as I stood there, I could feel her presence lingering, like a ghost clinging to the edges of my consciousness—a haunting I couldn’t shake. Was I becoming one of those men who pursued young girls, crossing lines drawn in the sand, sliding down that slippery slope of desire? The universe had a wicked sense of humor.

God, I hoped I wouldn’t see her again at the gym. The very thought sent a chill down my spine—a mix of longing and guilt. But there I was, fantasizing about her hands instead of my own.

When did I become such a creep?

I’m in a foul mood. Not a glimmer of sunshine inside me, just the dense fog of irritability that seems to thicken the air around me. Maybe it’s the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders, or maybe it’s just Tuesday. Either way, I know I’ll probably regret having lunch with Hoseok today, but deep down, I’m still holding onto the hope that, by some miracle, he didn’t notice my bizarre behavior at the gym last night.

As I step into the lunchroom, Hoseok’s voice slices through the stillness. “What the heck happened to you yesterday?”

Well, so much for miracles.

“Nothing. Why?” I try to sound casual as I toss my food into the microwave, but my heart races in protest.

“Nothing? You nearly killed me, bolted off to talk to Y/N, and then stormed out. That seems normal to you?” He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

I shrug, feigning indifference, but my stomach twists.

“We were supposed to have drinks with Serena and her friend with the—” he gestures dramatically, “the big personality.”

“Listen, you and Serena need to stop setting me up with her friends.”

“Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy or something?”

“I’m just not in the mood for this today, Hoseok.” I plop down in a chair, my food forgotten.

“Is it because of Y/N?” he asks, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food.

“No,” I reply, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “And her name is Y/N, by the way.”

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is! You’re totally crushing on her!” Hoseok leaps from his chair, fork aimed at me like a weapon. His eyes widen as if he’s just uncovered a major conspiracy.

“What? NO!”

“Dude, you remembered her name!” He plops back down beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Hoseok, what does that—”

“Oh man. This is too good... like, really, really good.” His grin is the kind that makes me want to punch him—or maybe just smack some sense into him.

“Hoseok, please. Just for one day…” I rub my forehead, trying to ease the confusion tightening my temples. The last thing I need is Hoseok’s theories swirling around my mind like a chaotic storm.

“Okay, okay…” He continues to chew, stealing glances at me every few seconds. “So, when’s Yoonji coming?” he asks, smirking, and I shoot him a glare that could curdle milk.

So what if I remembered her name? It hardly means anything. I’ve been working with her for weeks now. I’m not some clueless idiot; I can remember a name. I don’t care what Hoseok or Yoonji think. This is nothing. This doesn’t mean anything.

Except it does. Because Y/N, not “the girl” or “the undergrad,” is going to be in the lab when I return. And I’m not just aware of it—I’m looking forward to it. I want to see her smile, to hear her laugh.

I want to hear her giggle? Jesus, I need to get a grip on myself.

My bad mood evaporates the moment I spot Y/N at my bench, scribbling away in her notepad. Her hair cascades over her shoulder, wild and free. It should bother me—should send alarm bells ringing—but it doesn’t. It looks soft and inviting, and suddenly, all I want is to run my fingers through it.

Okay… I’ve really lost it now.

And just like that, my bad mood crashes back in.

“I can’t find my lab coat,” she says, tying her hair up with an intensity that almost makes me envious.

I feel a spark of irritation at the safety rules that dictate her hair must be tied back. I find myself imagining the kinds of experiments that would allow her to leave it down, just so I could watch it flow freely.

“Do you know where it could be?” she asks, glancing up at me.

I’ve completely lost track of her words, staring at her blankly.

“My lab coat?” she repeats, tilting her head.

Right… the lab coat.

“Let me get you a new one. That one was all covered in blood.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wash it.”

“We have lab coats here, Y/N—new ones. I’ll get you one,” I say, moving past her, determination pushing me forward.

She stops me, grabbing my elbow. “Please, can I have my old one back?” Her eyes are wide and earnest, as if I hold the key to some sacred treasure.

A flush of embarrassment rises in me, and instead of confessing, I lie. “I threw it away.”

“What? Why?” Her gaze pierces through my flimsy excuse.

“It was covered in blood!” I bark, frustration bubbling over.

“I could have washed it!” she snaps, defiance igniting her eyes.

“I’m getting you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one. Is this some cruel joke? Because if it is, I’d really, really like my lab coat back. It means a lot to me.” The shift in her expression from anger to sadness tugs at something deep within me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, like I’ve just crushed her puppy.

Realization washes over me like a cold wave: I’m making her cry. With a deep sigh, I relent. “Okay, I didn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh thank God,” she breathes, closing her eyes in relief.

“But… I tried to wash it, and the bloodstains wouldn’t come out. I thought it would be a good idea to use bleach. And it was. I mean, it got rid of the bloodstains, but it also erased your drawings.”

“Oh no…” Her eyes fly open, panic etching her features.

“I’m sorry. Can I please get you a new one?” I plead, hoping to smooth over this disaster before it spirals further.

“I would really prefer to have my old one back,” she insists, crossing her arms defiantly, her gaze unwavering.

Jesus! Why does she have to be so difficult?

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I groan. She’s staring at me like she’s just won the lottery, and I can’t bring myself to back down. “Fine…” I reach under my desk for the bag containing her lab coat and hand it over, feeling like I’m offering her a corpse.

I should have burned the damn thing.

Her gasp as she pulls the coat from the bag makes my stomach drop.

“Oh my gosh!” She turns it around, inspecting the shapes I drew in a moment of misguided creativity. When she spots my pathetic attempt at rewriting “Bacteria Rule” on the back, she giggles, and I swear my heart stumbles.

How do I keep up with her?

One minute, she’s annoyed; the next, she’s crying; now, she’s laughing. It’s like watching a storm change directions on a whim.

“You… did you do this?” She glances up at me, her eyelashes still damp, and my chest tightens painfully.

“Yeah, it looks even more ridiculous now. Didn’t think that was possible. Would you please let me get you a new one?”

“Oh no. I’m wearing this one,” she chirps, slipping her arms into the sleeves like she’s donning a crown.

“Please say you’re kidding.”

“What? It’s perfect!” she beams, buttoning the coat closed, that radiant smile piercing through my irritation.

Even as she parades around in that god-awful coat, all I can think about is pulling her close and kissing her senseless. It’s ridiculous and utterly baffling, but I can’t shake it.

I really must have lost it now.

The morning air felt heavy, thick with a strange malaise that weighed on me like a thick blanket. "So, what's on the agenda for today, Boss?" Y/N chirped, her pen clicking in a cheerful rhythm as she flipped open her notebook, the sound almost irritatingly upbeat.

"Don’t call me Boss," I grumbled, trying to shake off the oppressive darkness that seemed to cling to me like damp fog.

"Okay, Grumpy. What are we doing today?" Her smile was a bright spark against the backdrop of my brooding mood.

I could tell she was trying to be funny, deliberately poking at my irritation. With an exasperated huff, I shoved the list of activities at her. "Try not to mess up this time, Becca."

She took the list with a theatrical pout, and I stifled a real smile beneath my carefully crafted mask of indifference—a skill I'd perfected over the years. 

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the list. "I thought I was starting from scratch."

"You are," I replied, trying to keep my tone as casual as possible.

"But you did all these steps already." She pointed to the initial tasks, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I was bored Saturday," I said, as if boredom were an acceptable excuse for taking the initiative.

Her eyes darted between the list and mine, a spark of awe lighting up her face. "You started my experiment for me?"

The way she looked at me made my skin crawl—a mixture of discomfort and something warmer I didn’t want to acknowledge. I clamped down on my tongue, suppressing the urge to explain myself. 

"You better get cracking, Y/L/N. There's a seminar at four I want to attend."

Her gaze lingered on me a moment longer before she shook it off, returning to her notebook. A sense of relief washed over me. 

We worked in silence, but I could feel her stealing glances at me like a kid peeking into a haunted house. I knew—I just knew—I had crossed some invisible line. What I felt was tangled, a confusion I was desperate to untangle.

"What’s the seminar about?" she asked, her voice light with curiosity as we carried bottles of growth media to the incubators.

"I don’t know," I said, holding the door for her as we entered the incubator room.

"Then why are you going?" She squatted to stow the bottles inside, her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.

"Free food." I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

"Seriously?" She looked up at me, disbelief written all over her features.

"Y/N… if you go to grad school, you’ll learn to appreciate the majesty of free food."

When she stood up, she released my hand with a huff, her pride surfacing. "When I go to grad school, I’ll enjoy the seminars, even without the free food."

"Right…" I turned away, shaking my head.

"So, can I come?" she asked shyly, her voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the incubators.

"You want to come to the seminar?" I shot her a skeptical glance.

"Hells to the yeah!" 

I suppressed a snort, the surprise of her enthusiasm bubbling up inside me. "Why?"

"I might learn something."

"Okay, you can come, but the la-la-lab coat stays." 

The thought of her actually being excited about attending a seminar with me sent a strange thrill through my chest, one that both excited and unnerved me.

As we made our way to the seminar, Y/N rattled on about her dreams for grad school, her voice bubbling over with energy. I struggled to interject, her words flowing like a vibrant stream, full of life.

When we reached the seminar room, she shook her head at my heaping plate of food. I settled into my seat, grateful for the chance to hide from the annoyed glances of the people behind us. Y/N plopped down beside me, her nervous energy radiating from her.

"That one with the sweater vest is Prof. Waylon," I said, nodding toward him. "He has a serious case of narcolepsy. Snores through the entire talk but wakes up right on cue to ask the hardest questions."

She giggled, and the sound pierced through the fog that had settled around me.

"And over there, with the red bow tie, is Dr. Amun-Kebi. Brilliant but completely bonkers—he discovered Quorum Sensing, yet can’t make eye contact because he’s too busy staring at the ceiling."

She snorted, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth, her joy infectious.

"Then there’s Jin," I continued, "who dresses like he’s going to a board meeting every day. Knows more adjectives than a thesaurus, but his favorite is definitely 'fascinating.'"

I mimicked Jin’s exaggerated tone, and Y/N laughed again, drawing some disapproving throat-clearing from the folks behind us.

"Main point is, Y/N," I said, "science makes you lose your mind. You’ve been warned."

"Oh, I think I can handle it," she replied, winking at me, and my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

As the speaker began, I couldn't help but chuckle when I noticed her furiously scribbling notes as if her life depended on it.

Once the seminar ended, we returned to the lab. Y/N still had work to catch up on after being away for an hour. I’d finished my tasks long ago, but I lingered, a shadow in the corner, unwilling to leave her alone in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space.

She closed her notebook with a satisfying smack and turned to me, her eyes bright. "This is so exciting! I can’t wait to see if it works this time."

"Yeah, you’ll get over it," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Have you always been such a grump? Or was there a time when you actually liked what you do?"

Her question hit me like a punch to the gut, catching me off guard. I could feel her gaze piercing through my defenses.

"I like what I do."

"Do you love it?"

Her question hung in the air like a dark cloud, and I found myself lost in a maze of memories, the joy of discovery overshadowed by the weight of expectations. Had there ever been a time when I shared her enthusiasm?

"I don’t really remember," I mumbled, avoiding the truth. "It’s getting late, Y/N. How are you getting home?"

"I’m walking."

"I’m walking too. Let’s go."

Did I used to love what I did? The memory felt elusive, slipping through my fingers like water.

As we walked, Y/N asked, "Why did you decide to go to grad school?"

"Why does anyone?" I shot back, a cryptic smirk teasing my lips.

"To make a difference? To revolutionize the field?"

"Very cute, Y/N."

"It’s not cute. It’s true."

"Is that why you want to go to grad school?"

"Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people. Since medical school is out of the question for me—"

"You’ll get over the smell of blood, Y/N."

"It’s not just that. I get too attached. I’d rather contribute silently from the lab." She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Plus, where would medicine be without science? They’d still be pouring hot oil into wounds!"

I chuckled, a genuine laugh bubbling up like warmth breaking through winter’s chill. "You’re funny." The words slipped out before I could think better of it, and before I could process my thoughts, my fingers brushed against her arm, lingering over the fabric of her hoodie.

She halted, her cheeks tinged pink, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

I froze, my hand dropping to my side, panic racing through me. That had to be inappropriate.

"I’ve been called worse," she joked, her smile radiating a warmth that sent shivers down my spine.

We walked on in silence until we reached her building.

"Do you live on campus too?" she asked, fishing for her keys from her bag.

"No. I live in Portage Bay."

"Oh… we passed that already."

"I know."

Suspicion flared in her gaze as she pieced things together, and I felt the weight of my own guilt creeping up on me. She would realize I was that gross old grad student trying to woo the sweet, naive undergrad—the very person I had mocked in others. The thought made my stomach churn.

"I know what you’re doing," she accused, crossing her arms defensively.

Here it comes…

"You feel guilty because I got hurt," she said, her voice steady. "You feel responsible. But you don’t have to do this."

Is that really what she thought?

"You think I’m walking you home out of guilt?" My voice was harsher than I intended, anger bubbling up inside me.

"I know you are."

"You don’t know anything," I spat, turning away, desperate to escape the rising tide of emotions threatening to drown me.

"Yoongi, wait!" she called after me, dread washing over me.

Keep walking… don’t look back.

I couldn’t believe she thought I was being nice out of guilt. I had done nothing but act like a jerk for too long, and now I was about to lose the only flicker of light stupid, lonely world.

God, she had no clue.

Wednesday morning felt heavy with an unsettling quiet when Y/N arrived at the lab a little earlier than usual. I was already there, lurking like a shadow in the corner, unable to shake off the ghosts of a sleepless night. I busied myself with the equipment, clinging to the hope that keeping my distance would somehow quell the anger simmering beneath my skin.

It was confusing, really. I was furious with her—not just because of the injury that haunted my thoughts like a ghost, but because she had twisted my kindness into something it wasn’t. Sure, I felt like a hollow shell, the guilt gnawing at my insides like a rat in a rotting wall, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy walking her home. Yesterday’s seminar had been a strange kind of fun—the first I’d experienced in what felt like ages.

As I returned to the lab, pretending to check something in my desk drawer, I caught her gaze from across the bench. The way her eyes followed me stirred something deep inside, a mix of frustration and longing I couldn’t quite place. I tried to slip away, but as I turned to leave, her fingers brushed against my elbow.

“Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said, her voice soft and sincere, those puppy-dog eyes piercing through my defenses. Warmth rushed through me, a strange blend of emotions swirling inside. “It was really nice of you to walk with me. Thank you.”

With a timid smile, she released my arm, leaving me reeling, torn between the urge to pull her back and the need to retreat. Just then, I caught sight of Jimin, his piercing blue eyes wide with suspicion from the shadows of the lab. What the hell?

“You’re welcome,” I muttered dryly to Y/N, my voice almost a growl, before storming away, seeking refuge from the chaos in my head.

In the media preparation room, I paced like a caged animal, cracking my knuckles repeatedly to chase away the madness. This was absurd. I was losing it over a girl—an undergrad—who seemed blissfully unaware of the tempest she stirred within me. Deep breaths. Focus. But I knew this strange obsession wasn’t going anywhere.

When I returned to the lab, I found Jungkook leaning casually against my bench, chatting with Y/N. She wore that timid smile again, twisting something inside me. My hands curled into fists, rage and jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Jungkook said, flashing a grin as he sauntered past me. Did he just ask her out? The urge to grab him by the ponytail and shove him to the floor was overwhelming. “What did he want?” I spat, unable to contain the fury boiling within.

“Nothing,” she replied innocently, her attention flitting back to her notebook as if she hadn’t just tossed gasoline on my fire.

“Y/N,” I hissed, slicing through the air with my words, demanding her attention. “What did he want?”

“Nothing important,” she clarified, but her eyes locked onto mine, searching. My resolve wavered. What the hell was wrong with me? The desire to pummel Jungkook quickly transformed into an intense longing to press my lips against that bottom lip she kept biting. The confusion swirled around us, thick and suffocating, and I felt trapped.

Just then, Jimin reentered the lab, breaking the spell that had ensnared us. I stepped back, the tension snapping like a brittle twig, and Y/N sighed, disappointment heavy in the air.

“Are you done?” I asked, my voice cold, each word laced with the weight of my internal turmoil. “I need to use the bench.”

Hurt flickered in her eyes before she masked it, and guilt settled in my stomach like a stone. I tried to focus on my work, but her presence lingered, a distraction gnawing at my concentration until she finally left for the day. This is ridiculous! Why did she affect me so much? I couldn’t keep living like this.

Thursday afternoon arrived, and I maneuvered around Y/N like a ghost. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but the thought of her and Jungkook had me seething. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire, irritation coiling tighter with every passing second. I tried to stick to succinct answers and instructions, but the tension thickened around us like fog.

As we received her sequencing results, I could no longer pretend she didn’t exist. She pulled a chair next to me at my desk, her presence suffocatingly close. My fingers twitched on the mouse, nerves sparking as I avoided glancing her way. She tapped her pen rhythmically; each tap a countdown to my sanity.

“Please, stop that,” I groaned, frustration spilling over.

She halted instantly, a sigh escaping her lips, and my heart sank. I hated feeling this way—trapped between annoyance and an attraction that sent shivers down my spine. How was that even possible?

Finally, the software loaded, and I opened her file. Y/N gasped, and I held my breath as she leaned closer, the tension between us palpable.

“Sample 1. Ran well. Sample 2. Ran well… ran well, ran well, ran well…” All fifty samples had run flawlessly. Impressive. I couldn’t recall a time when every single sequencing reaction had succeeded; there was always a failure or two. Y/N was undeniably skilled.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck. Her warmth enveloped me, her hair brushing against my face, and the world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating. My body responded in ways I couldn’t understand.

I shot up from my chair, breaking the spell. “Sorry,” she mumbled, her cheeks a deep crimson, laughter spilling from her lips. “I’m just so happy! They all worked!”

My heart raced, shock coursing through me as I struggled to regain composure. The pull I felt toward her was almost unbearable, thrumming like an electric wire, demanding release.

“Good job,” I managed, forcing my voice to remain steady. But as she smiled at me, her joy tearing through my carefully constructed barriers, I knew I was in deep trouble. I wanted to hold her again, to kiss her until the world faded away. God, I needed help.

As I turned to her, a smile crept onto my lips despite myself. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and before I could process it, she squeaked, throwing her arms around my neck, her warmth enveloping me, her hair brushing against my face. The world narrowed to just her, the scent of her shampoo intoxicating, my body responding in ways I couldn’t understand. 

God, I needed help.

You know those days when nothing seems to go right? When you drag yourself out of bed, and it feels like the universe is playing tricks on you, pushing you back with every step forward? Yeah, today is one of those days. A downright miserable Friday, and I can’t help but feel that the promise of the weekend is just a hollow consolation.

This morning was a disaster. I tossed and turned all night, haunted by thoughts of Y/N. Her smile flickered in my mind like a candle caught in the wind—warm and inviting one moment, then snuffed out the next. The irony is, while I’m relieved I won’t have to face her today, the gnawing uncertainty of whether she’s out with Jungkook weighs heavily in my stomach. Anger simmers beneath my skin, bubbling over in waves I can’t seem to control.

As I step into the lunchroom, the emptiness greets me, broken only by the taunting hum of the microwave. I slam my fist against its cold metal side, frustrated when it refuses to cooperate. It beeps at me, a cruel mockery in the sterile silence. I slam the door shut again, and my temper flares.

“What did the microwave do to you?” A familiar voice cuts through my frustration. It’s Hoseok, ever the jester, his amusement practically radiating off him.

“It’s broken,” I mutter, fingers still mashing buttons like a madman.

“Step away from the microwave,” he orders, a playful yet firm tone in his voice. In two quick moves, he’s heating up my food. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing,” I groan, flopping down in a chair with a defeated sigh. “Just one of those days.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just one of those days…” I can’t muster the energy to say more.

“Like, ‘Everything’s messed up and everyone sucks’?” He turns his baseball cap backward, bobbing his head as if ready to launch into a nu-metal anthem.

“Great, Hoseok. Quote Limp Bizkit. That’s really going to help.” I cut him off before he can get into full swing.

“Dude, you’re in a mood. What happened?” His eyes reflect genuine concern as he rummages through the fridge.

“Nothing,” I insist, rising to retrieve my Tupperware.

“Bullshit. I’ve known you for four years. This isn’t just a failed PCR kind of mood.” He crosses his arms, blocking my path.

Part of me wants to spill my guts, but the words feel lodged in my throat. Still, they tumble out. “If I tell you, can you at least try to be mature about it?”

“Mature is my middle name,” he grins, but I can’t help but scowl.

“Fine. It’s Y/N.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

I bury my face in my hands, feeling the weight of his excitement pressing down on me. “What happened?” he whispers, leaning in, all ears.

“She’s... I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. I’m serious.”

“Yeah, she’s out with Jungkook.”

“Jungkook?” Hoseok’s voice rises as if he’s just spotted a raccoon in the hall.

“Jesus, Hoseok!” I hiss. “Keep it down!”

“Sorry.” His whisper is tinged with amusement. “Jungkook fucking Jeon?”

“Yes.” I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling over. “And she’s my undergrad.”

“Puh-lease. Who cares?” 

“I’m at least five years older than her,” I retort.

“The younger, the better.” He waggles his eyebrows, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Disgusting.”

“Stop brooding, dude. Jeon’s got nothing on you. Go get your girl. She’s fine, and she was always checking you out at the gym—like I told you a thousand times.”

Y/N checking me out? No way. Hoseok’s just being delusional. I shake my head, dismissing his words. This fixation has to end. She’s just my undergrad. That’s all she’ll ever be—at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Happy Hour. The name is ironic, a pathetic excuse for mingling—if you can even call it that. It never lasts an hour, and “happy” is a stretch, but hey, there’s free beer, so here I am. Alone in the corner, I down red cups like they might wash away the grime of the day. By the time Hoseok and Serena finally stroll in, I’ve polished off four.

“You’re here before us. That’s weird,” Serena quips as they approach.

“Thanks for the observation, Captain Obvious.” 

“What’s his problem?” Serena glares at Hoseok, arms crossed.

“He’s in a mood,” Hoseok replies, handing me another red cup that I chug.

“Why?” Her tone is whiny, as if I owe her an explanation.

“Lady problems,” Hoseok shoots back before I can stop him.

“Yoongi has lady problems?” Serena sounds incredulous, as if she’s just discovered a new planet.

“I’m standing right here!” My voice is louder than I intended, laced with irritation.

“So you like a girl, Yoongi. Not the end of the world. I mean, this self-imposed celibacy was bound to end someday. I just wish I knew who she is.” She twists the conversation back to herself, as always.

“It’s not just a girl. It’s his undergrad,” Hoseok interjects, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

“You old perv!” Serena playfully smacks my chest, and I can feel the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I’m going to get fired,” I murmur, tipping my cup back for the last drops of liquid courage.

“No, you won’t, drama queen.” She dismisses me with a wave, annoyance radiating off her.

“It happens all the time! PIs hit on post-docs, post-docs on grad students, grads on undergrads. What world do you live in?”

“It’s like a jungle,” Hoseok chuckles.

“Shut up, Hoseok,” Serena snaps. “Good news is, now that there’s this girl, you can stop with the emo bitterness. It’s getting old.”

“Fuck you, Serena.”

“Hey, hey now,” Hoseok says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go get another round.”

When we return, my anger toward Serena simmers just beneath the surface, but I’m too tipsy to think straight. “For your information, Serena, this girl has a name. Her name is Becca. No, wait... it’s Y/N! Dammit!” My palm meets my forehead in a facepalm of pure embarrassment.

“Wow. She must be something special, Yoongi. You don’t even know her name.”

“Baby, stop. He’s drunk, and he’s having a shitty day.”

“Why?” 

“Y/N is out with Jungkook,” Hoseok explains.

“Jeon?” Serena’s expression shifts to one of shock, and they dive into speculation, completely oblivious to my presence.

I shut them out, groaning into my cup as I gulp it down. It’s true. I know it. Jungkook is with Y/N tonight, probably taking her to dinner and drinks, sharing laughs while I’m stuck here. My mind spirals into a dark abyss—what if he kisses her? What if she invites him in? God, I’m sick just thinking about it.

Of all the undergrads in this department, Jungkook Jeon had to go after mine. I hope Y/N gets drunk and spills her drink all over him.

Worst. Hangover. Ever.

Well, maybe not the worst, but it’s definitely up there. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and my stomach feels like a chaotic whirlpool of regret as I stumble into the shower. The hot water cascades over me, a fleeting relief, but all I can think about is how tempting sleep sounds right now. But I have things to do in the lab. Don’t I always?

The apartment is a total disaster zone—a messy tribute to last night’s antics. Red cups are scattered across the coffee table like the remnants of a forgotten battle, and chip crumbs litter the floor like confetti from a party that had long overstayed its welcome. Hoseok and Serena wouldn’t leave me alone last night, terrified I’d do something reckless, so we ended up bringing Happy Hour back to my place. I was just the third wheel, watching them get lost in their own world of laughter and flirting. By the time I woke up on the couch, blanketed by a pile of crumpled chips, they were long gone.

I shuffle into the library, desperate for my usual caffeine fix on the way to the lab, but my stomach is rebelling. Still, I know I’ll need that coffee to survive the day.

Inside, the library feels like a claustrophobic hive of undergrads buzzing around like over-caffeinated bees. It’s overwhelming.

What a nightmare!

I hurry to the coffee line, pouring sugar into my mug like it’s a lifeline. Just as I catch my breath, I spot her—Y/N—sitting at a table surrounded by a fortress of books. Her hair falls like a curtain, hiding her face from view. I can’t help myself; I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

“Hello, Y/N,” I say, sliding into the chair across from her.

She looks up, surprise flickering across her features, and for a moment, my heart races. 

“Oh, so I’m back to being Y/N?” There’s no hint of humor in her voice, only seriousness, and it feels like a punch to the gut.

What’s going on? Where’s the smile that usually lights up her face?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light as I settle in.

“What are you doing here?” she replies, her gaze cool and collected.

“Y/N, please go easy on me today. I’m not feeling great,” I admit, running a hand down my face, feeling every ache from the night before.

“Oh... what’s wrong?” Her stoic facade starts to crumble, replaced by genuine concern, and it warms me a bit.

“Too much beer,” I confess, and the word makes my stomach churn at the memory of my poor choices.

“I see... does that explain this?” She pulls out her phone and turns it toward me.

Grumpy: Becca, you’ve just revealed yourself to have absolutely no taste.

“Who the hell is Grumpy, and why does he call you Becca?” I blurt out, anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “You’re the only Grumpy I know.”

“Are you saying I sent you that text?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing as her eyes drift away like leaves in the wind.

I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart sinking as I check my sent texts.

Well, great…

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes, wishing I could take back last night’s mistakes.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean either. No taste in what? Music? Food? Men?” 

“Men?” I let out a dry laugh. “Jungkook is not a man. He’s a tool.”

“So this is about Jungkook?” she says, gesturing to her phone.

“Yes.” My brain feels sluggish, like I’m moving through molasses.

“Why do you care?” 

“I’m uncomfortable with you dating my classmate,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to appear nonchalant.

“He’s not your classmate, and we’re not dating.”

“We both started our PhDs at the same time in the same program. That makes him my classmate… Wait… you’re not dating?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. We went out for coffee, talked, he asked me out again, and I kindly declined. I’m focused on my studies right now, Yoongi, and I really don’t have room for anything more.”

“Oh…” Relief floods through me, even as my hangover rages on. I might even be smiling.

“Yes, oh indeed. Which brings me back to why you’re sitting here distracting me from my study session.”

“What are you studying?” I ask softly, a smile creeping onto my face, hoping to steer the conversation away from Jungkook.

“I have an organic chemistry exam on Monday.”

“Oh, I see…” I hesitate, but the temptation of spending time with her outweighs my growing pile of work in the lab. “Well, it might just be your lucky day, Y/L/N, because I happen to be an expert in all things organic chemistry.”

“You are?” Her lips curl into a small grin, and I feel a surge of relief wash over me. She’s back.

“I am…” I smile at her. “So, do you want some help?”

“I could use some help.”

Help… yeah… that’s what I’m here for… help.

For the next two hours, I guide Y/N through her organic reaction problem sets, all while ignoring my cooling coffee. She’s a quick study, soaking up the information, and I’m confident she’ll ace her test on Monday.

I keep my hands clasped between my knees—except when I need to draw reactions for her—wanting to hide how my fingers twitch every time she brushes her hair behind her ear.

Y/N is focused on her notebook, but the third time I yawn, she looks up at me.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Tell me about it… On average, I get about four hours a night.”

“Four hours? If I don’t get at least six, I get grumpy.”

“Grumpier than this?” she says, waving a hand at me, a smile teasing at her lips.

“This,” I gesture to my chest, “this is the five-hours-of-sleep me.” I stretch, feeling my muscles pull, and I notice her eyes trace down my torso before I quickly pull my shirt down.

Was Y/N checking me out?

“Anyway…” I scramble for a distraction. “It’s healthy to sleep eight hours. I’m all about being healthy.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re an old man.”

“Hey… I’m only twenty-five!”

She laughs, and before I can ask how old she is, her gaze shifts behind me, and I can sense her tension.

“Shit…” she whispers.

“What?”

“Remember that guy I told you about, Jonah Rodgers, the stalker?” Her voice drops to a near whisper, laced with panic.

I wrack my brain, trying to recall. Y/N had a stalker? She looks at me, and it’s clear she knows I’m lost.

“Just play along, please,” she whispers, scooting her chair closer to me. Her hand brushes my knee, and I’m startled by the tentative touch.

A vague memory flickers in my mind—her acting strange around me one day, but it’s obscured by the haze of regret and longing.

Y/N’s gaze is intense, making it hard to focus on anything else. She smiles shyly, then looks down before peeking at me through her thick lashes.

God, what is she doing to me?

I know she’s faking it, pretending for someone else—but I can’t help how my body reacts, how hyper-aware I am of her presence. My hand moves to her cheek, my thumb tracing her soft skin. She blushes, biting her lip, and it sends a jolt through me, a deep ache to pull her closer—bring her lips to mine.

Her hand slides from my knee, brushing my thigh, and I can feel a warmth stirring inside me.

This isn’t real… it can’t be.

She’s still staring at me, and I’m lost in her gaze, wondering what she’s thinking, if she feels it too.

But then, all too soon, her attention darts behind me again.

“He’s gone,” she breathes, relief washing over her. Her hand rubs my thigh one last time before she withdraws. “Thank you.”

I know I should let go, but I can’t. My hand remains on her face, my thumb tracing her cheek while my fingers tangle in the nape of her neck. Her expression shifts, confusion knitting her brow. She reaches for my hand, her fingers enveloping my wrist—her thumb brushing the top of my hand, once, twice—and then she smiles.

But she’s not looking at me seductively anymore. She’s looking at me like she doesn’t understand why I haven’t let go. And honestly? Neither do I.

I drop my hand from her face and stand abruptly.

“I better get to the lab,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Good luck on your test.” Her eyes linger on me, confusion clouding her expression as I turn to leave.

I guess the show is over…

I spent the rest of the weekend in the lab, mostly because I had nothing better to do. It felt easier to throw myself into my work than to face the nagging thoughts of Y/N swirling around in my head. Pining after her felt wrong—she was just a kid, my intern, and whatever was brewing inside me needed to stop. I had to keep my distance.

When Y/N walked in on Tuesday, she looked a bit worn out. I wanted to ask her about the test, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself to act indifferent.

As the day wound down, she asked for my help, and I followed her into the dark room. She needed to cut different bands from an agarose gel to purify the DNA. Even though she knew how to use the UV light box, I guided her through the excising process.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Y/N flipped on the UV box and switched off the lights. I stood behind her, watching as her shaky hand hovered nervously over the gel, clutching the blade. 

"I think it’s safe to say that not going to medical school was the right choice for you," I teased, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension. "With those shaky hands, I wouldn't want you holding a scalpel near me."

"I had too much coffee today," she shot back, her tone sharp but playful.

"Right," I snorted, a grin breaking free.

"Shut up. You're making me nervous." I could almost hear her smile through her words.

"Here," I said, inching closer. I covered her hand with mine, steadying her fingers over the blade. "Relax," I suggested, hoping it would ease both our nerves.

Her proximity felt electric, as if the air around us vibrated with tension. The scent of her hair—fresh and unplaceable—danced under my nose, making my heart race. Y/N's hand trembled beneath mine as she turned to glance up at me. In the faint blue glow of the UV light, her features looked even more striking. 

"This is making it worse," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

I felt her warm breath against my neck, and everything inside me screamed that we were too close. I should step back. I needed to step back. But God, I wanted to kiss her. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Her bewildered expression shifted as her eyes drifted from my gaze to my lips. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched her tongue trace the edge of her bottom lip before she began to nibble on it nervously.

Then, without thinking, I closed the distance and pressed my lips against hers.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, intoxicated by her sweet scent as my mouth enveloped her bottom lip. Y/N whimpered softly against me, turning her body to face mine. My hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

What was I doing?

I felt lost, unsure of how to proceed or how to stop. Reluctantly, I released her neck and gripped the bench for support, struggling against the rising tide of desire. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around her and pull her onto the counter, to lose myself in her warmth.

No, stop! This is wrong!

I broke the kiss, panting heavily. "Y/N…" I gasped. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I stepped back, needing space. She was breathing hard too. "I-I didn’t mean to do that. I shouldn’t have… Shit." My hands raked through my hair, searching for words that eluded me.

Then, with a single determined step, Y/N closed the distance. She grabbed my t-shirt and pulled me down to her level. Her lips collided with mine once more, and I felt her inhale sharply.

I was too tall, or she was too short; either way, I hunched over her as her legs wrapped around my hips, lifting her onto the countertop beside the UV box.

Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging in a way that made me groan into her mouth, while my own hands hovered uncertainly over her body, torn between desire and restraint.

Loud, insistent knocking on the door shattered the moment.

Y/N gasped, and her legs slipped from my sides. 

"I need to look at a gel, Yoongi. What’s taking so long?" Jimin's voice rang out.

Jimin… shit…

I groaned against Y/N's shoulder, gripping her thighs to steady myself. Her fingers remained tangled in my hair, and I felt dangerously close to losing it.

"We're cutting a gel, Jimin," I called out, taking a reluctant step away from Y/N. "Give me a fucking break," I muttered under my breath.

I heard Jimin huff through the door, and Y/N’s voice came low and tense. "What do we do?"

I didn't know about her, but I needed to get out of there. I was uncomfortable and desperately needed to regain control. I moved to the UV box, which was still glowing. Y/N jumped down from the bench as I grabbed the blade, cutting around the bands on the gel. I found it ironic that my hands were now shaking, yet I managed to do a decent job.

Once finished, I shut off the UV light and flicked the room lights back on. Y/N jumped a little, and though I was sure she was staring at me, I couldn’t meet her gaze—I wouldn’t.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Take each piece of gel and put it in a single epi tube," I instructed, forcing myself to focus on anything but her. "You can follow the rest of the protocol at the bench."

"Yoongi," she whispered, urgency lacing her voice.

"I’ll be back in a bit," I said, my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t risk a glance at her, fearing that a single look would draw me back in. I opened the door and stormed out, nearly colliding with Jimin, who stood there with his arms crossed.

What the hell just happened?

A few moments later, I was outside the building. Rain hammered down, but I didn’t care. I wished I smoked, drank, or had any vice to help me calm down. I tried deep breaths to steady myself, but the rain only added to the chaos swirling inside me. I made it to the tree line behind the parking lot, leaning against a trunk with one hand while the other pressed against my chest, where my heart threatened to pound its way out. I was panting, sweating, and completely unraveling.

What the hell had I been thinking?

Well, clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

God, I could still taste her on my lips.

I swallowed hard.

Y/N had the sweetest lips I’d ever kissed.

I was doomed.

This could ruin everything. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by Y/N like this. I had lost all control, and I didn’t know what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t knocked. Or worse, what if Y/N had opened the door without knocking? Thank God the light was off, and the “IN USE” sign was outside.

No one could know about this, especially not Jimin—he was Jin’s puppy! If Jin ever found out…

God, this was all so messed up!

I had to make it clear to Y/N—this had to stay between us. We had to pretend it never happened.

It would never happen again.

I could never have my lips on hers again—just the thought of it made my chest ache.

I had known kissing her would be good. She had the most beautiful lips I’d ever seen. They didn’t disappoint. Her kiss exceeded any expectation I had dared to dream. How could I endure not kissing her again, knowing how sweet she tasted?

If I thought it was torture to be around her before, now it was going to be hell.

And she had kissed me back. She had. It wasn’t just me. She wanted this too. Didn’t she know it was wrong? I needed to talk to her, to explain that this couldn’t happen again. We had to keep things professional, to work together without awkwardness. We had to manage that. I needed to manage that.

I wouldn’t look at her lips, or her smile, if that’s what it took. Maybe I could lie and say we needed to wear mouth masks for the rest of the project…

With a groan, I stepped away from the tree. I fisted my hair, realizing I was getting drenched, and walked back into the building. I shook my head to rid myself of some of the water, but I was still soaked when I climbed the stairs.

When I entered the lab, Y/N pretended not to see me, but I knew better. Her posture shifted, her back straightened, and the foot she had been tapping on the floor stilled.

I noticed Jimin was in the lab, standing at his bench across from Y/N, staring at her. It became clear to me that Y/N was putting on a show for him.

I sighed, feeling a little relief wash over me.

Y/N wouldn’t tell anyone—at least that much was clear.

But I still needed to talk to her. What happened was wrong and completely inappropriate. I couldn’t let her get the wrong idea.

I buried myself in my computer for a while, pretending to work by aimlessly scrolling and clicking, but my attention was entirely on Y/N. She seemed to move through the purification protocol without a hitch. What was going through her head?

Y/N strolled into the lab on Thursday, her smile cutting through the sterile, fluorescent gloom like a ray of sunlight. I gave her a nod—polite, detached—but that didn’t stop my heart from racing at the flicker of warmth in her gaze. As I turned back to my work, she let out a sigh that lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing at Jimin's empty bench, and the reminder of his absence hung like a storm cloud between us. 

"Okay," she began, hands planted defiantly on her hips. "Should we talk about this?"

I forced myself to meet her gaze, focusing on those deep, captivating eyes while battling the temptation to let my gaze wander to her lips, which seemed to whisper promises that drove me mad with longing. 

"There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N."

"Well, are you going to go back to being mean to me?" 

"I was never mean to you."

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and heat crept into my cheeks as I remembered all the stunts I’d pulled—the pranks that had hurt her, the lab coat I’d ruined...

"I won't be mean to you again," I muttered, letting out a heavy sigh and looking at the floor.

"Yoongi..." Her voice was soft, almost melodic, and it tugged at my heart. 

When I met her gaze again, it was a mistake—her lip caught between her teeth was a distraction I didn’t need. My hands clenched into fists, seeking refuge in my pockets as her eyes searched mine, wary but hopeful, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It won't be awkward, all right? I promise."

That smile of hers struck me like a bolt of lightning, forcing a groan deep within my chest. I could see the words dancing on her lips, ready to spill out, but they vanished like smoke when Jimin walked back into the lab. Taking advantage of the reprieve, I buried myself in my work, fighting to act normal.

But normalcy felt like a distant memory whenever Y/N was near. She moved through the lab with quiet grace, while I stood like a rock in a river of uncertainty, drowning in my thoughts.

As the day wore on and shadows lengthened, I noticed her gathering her things. Instinct kicked in—I pretended to be engrossed in my computer, watching her shuffle and fidget until she finally took a step toward me.

"Hey, Yoongi?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes?" I turned to face her, masking the turmoil inside.

"Um, I was wondering... I know I’m just an undergrad here, and there’s really no room for me to... I-I mean, I know it’s really not my place to ask, but..." Her words faltered, and the crimson blush creeping up her cheeks sent my heart racing.

"Y/N, would you get on with it? I don’t have all day." My frustration boiled over, the energy it took to be normal around her fraying my patience.

Her frown was instant, a storm brewing in those beautiful eyes. 

Shit, that was uncalled for...

"Never mind…" she sighed, disappointment echoing in the air.

"Wait." I took a breath, willing myself to soften. "I’m sorry. Please, Y/N, tell me."

She sighed again, a deep, resigned breath. "I know there’s that recruitment party this Saturday. It’s for prospective students to meet the current students in the department. And I know, I’m just the undergrad, but I think it would be great if I could meet them. You know? Hopefully, in a year, I’ll be going through recruitment myself." Her fingers twisted anxiously in front of her, a sight that both amused and strained my patience.

"Is there a question you wanted to ask?" I barked, the irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Yes…" she snapped back, indignation rising. "My question is: do you mind if I’m there?" She crossed her arms, defiance written all over her.

Why would I care if she came? I hadn’t even planned on attending that stupid party. But suddenly, the thought twisted in my gut, a knot tightening as a realization hit me.

I shot up from my chair, startling her. "Who told you about the party?"

Her eyes dropped, a sigh escaping her lips, and just like that, the truth hit me like a freight train. I fucking knew it.

"You’re going with Jungkook, aren’t you?" I took a step closer, looming over her.

"No, I’m not going with Jungkook." Her voice was steady, but her gaze flickered to meet mine. "But I’m going."

"Well, I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, but the smile that graced her lips made my stomach twist. She turned to leave, and I felt something unravel within me—my hands instinctively reached out, fingers curling into frustrated fists. I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle her or pull her into a desperate embrace. All I knew was that I was left staring helplessly as she walked away.

I didn’t need her to say it; I knew Jungkook was behind this. She might not be going with him, but the thought of him lurking at that party made my blood boil. For the first time in a long while, I felt the gnawing sensation of jealousy eat away at my insides.

Fucking Jungkook Jeon.

I couldn’t believe I was even considering this.

Why did it matter if Y/N went to the recruitment party? It shouldn’t. Yet here I was, battling an angry tide rising in my chest, all because of that idiot Jungkook. If she were going with someone more acceptable—someone who didn’t make my skin crawl—I’d be okay with it. I should be okay with it. The rational part of my brain knew that, but the irritation overshadowed everything else.

What did she even see in Jungkook? The guy barely scraped by on his Qual after taking it twice and hadn’t published a single paper. He was working with fruit flies for crying out loud! And his personality? A brick wall. I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t like him. I couldn’t stand him.

I had to go to this party.

At lunch, against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up with Hoseok. 

"Hey, where’s the recruitment party this year?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I stabbed my fork into the mac and cheese.

"You’re going to the recruitment party?" Hoseok dropped his fork, suspicion etched across his face like a roadmap to his thoughts.

"Yes," I groaned, already regretting bringing it up. Of course, he’d make a fuss.

"To our department’s recruitment party?" He pressed a finger to his chest as if I’d committed a heinous crime.

"Why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged, pushing the macaroni around in my bowl.

"Let me think… maybe because I’ve organized every single one since I got here, and you’ve never attended."

"Will you just answer my question?" I snapped, frustration boiling over.

"It’s at the South Campus Center, bro." Even though he finally answered, his gaze lingered, scrutinizing me like I was a specimen under his microscope.

"Great, thanks." I tried to keep my tone light, rolling my eyes at his obvious scrutiny.

"I can’t believe you’re going." A knowing smile danced at the corners of his lips, and I loathed it.

I pretended not to care, shrugging off the comment as he took a seat next to me. 

"If only I had known all it would take was an undergrad to get through you."

"This has nothing to do with Y/N," I spat, defensiveness creeping in, my irritation sharpening with each word. Her name was Y/N, not ‘the undergrad.’

"Right, so it’s just a coincidence… this is just the year you happen to decide to attend this thing."

"Yes."

"Is she going?" His eyebrow arched, mischief glinting in his eyes.

I groaned and turned away, pretending to be absorbed in my food.

"Dude, I can see it. How she’s affected you. It’s kind of obvious. You can talk to me, you know? It might help."

The breath I took was deep and shaky, every nerve ending igniting with frustration. But before I could stop myself, the words came pouring out. "She drives me crazy, Hoseok. I can’t stand it. I lose all control when I’m around her. I kissed her… I kissed her, and she said she doesn’t want to jeopardize her work in the lab. And it makes sense for her to think that. But the worst part is now I can’t stop seeing her everywhere. She’s in the lab, at the gym, at the freaking library where I get my coffee—she’s everywhere! I need to go back to not seeing her, because I can’t handle this." I stared down at my lunch, the food suddenly unappetizing, a lifeless pile of carbs.

"So you don’t want to see her?" Hoseok asked, surprisingly calm, like he was dissecting a specimen on his lab bench.

"Exactly."

"You don’t want to kiss her again?" He pushed, an amused grin creeping across his face.

"I don’t know what I want!" I barked, irritation flaring.

"Sounds to me like you want to go to the party, see her, and kiss her again. The question is, how are you going to deal with Jungkook?"

My shoulders tightened at the mention of his name, a cold shiver running down my spine. "I don’t care about him."

"I don’t know, man. It’s weird. The vibes are strange. You’re talking about her with a lot of… emotion."

"Emotion?" I snapped, but deep down, I felt the truth behind his words. I was at the mercy of my own feelings, a trembling wreck in the face of Y/N’s smile. I hated it. I wanted to turn it off. I couldn’t afford to feel anything.

"Fine," I muttered, sinking back into my chair, wishing to be swallowed by it.

"You’re going to have to confront those feelings eventually, Yoongi."

I grunted in response, refusing to admit he was right. I didn’t want to think about Y/N, and I definitely didn’t want to deal with Jungkook. All I wanted was to escape this mess, but deep down, I knew I was already trapped.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[quivm]

ーNanami's present ୧ ‧₊˚

nanami x fem!reader ໒꒱  ˚₊· nsfw content explicit content made by a minor !! this work has been made by an minor !!

wc: 0.7k+

genre + content warnings:

nsfw, overstimulation, mention of breeding, description of female genitalia, praise kink, sir kink, pussy drunk, mentions of cunilingus, mentions of fingering, dacryphilia, pet names, cervix kisses, very light degradation

notes !! this is my first work ive posted on tumblr. so i am new to this so i tried my best! if there any spelling or grammar mistakes please tell me! constructive criticism is accepted ! there is no heavy proof reading. i know this is short i will try and post a longer one next time. this is for my love nanami <3 reposts are appreciated and loved ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

nanami's wandering eyes scanned up and down your body until he hit your cute sloppy cunt dripping with the past orgasms that wrecked you. you were too skittish today, squirming the pleasure that he gave you though his hands and mouth. apparently 3 orgasm was too much as you craved him.

as much as he loves to overstim the hell out of you little cunt with his wandering mouth, he felt too mean as this was a reward but you can forgive him cant you? you're reactions were just to stunning. fat tears sliding down your cheeks with needy eyes, you looked like an hungry succubus. '' n-nanami please'' you mumbled.

''angel, concentrate on me. just give m' one more and ill give you what you desperately want.'' looking down at your absolutely wrecked face as you were trying to eagerly come undone on his fingers – he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. he was suppose to be cherishing you as this was a present but instead he is acting like its a punishment but alas it was only a twinge. feeling a new rush of slick coating his fingers, he marvelled at it. he couldn't help but want to tease your little pussy more. but alas a promise is a promise and he would not go back on his word.

''very good doll, i guess its time for your present, isn't it.'' sliding his length across your wet folds teasing your entrance with the tip, he gave in and rolled his hips into your sweet nectar, this was a reward after all. relief washed over your body, you got what you wanted.

the sight of the bulge in your soft tummy poking out as he slide in was almost enough to make him come undone at once– almost most. seeing you get so flustered when he praised you for taking his cock so deep and so well made him go harder. your gummy walls clung onto him wanting him to stay inside and breed you like a slut.

gritting his teeth and he couldn't help but abuse your puffy clit that was right there on display. holding back from fucking you into a sopping mess was hard but seeing your cunt cream on his dick, after playing with your little clit, was the last shred to his will. although you were barely able to put together sentenced at this point you were still asking for more, that was his girl. ''shh pretty girl m' goin' make you feel amazing i promise.''

every hard buck of nanami hips was sent straight to your accepting cervix. each stoke sent you to heaven, eventually back with the delicious sting as he came out. you're mind slowly was melting and becoming perfect for nanami's merciless pace you could only hope to keep up with.

your gummy walls tighten again and nanami swatting your wet folds so you could pay attention and give him a kiss. ''princess focus on me or this wont be a reward anymore''. your mind a mess could only reply with broken words and whimpers, ''words trouble, words'' he whispered in your ear as his strokes became languid waiting in your response.

waking up from the daze and craving his cock you replied as quickly as you could, ''yes sir im sorry sir''. satisfied he speed up slightly, waiting till those beautiful tear were streaking down your face again in neediness before returning to the pervious pace.

sensing your world crushing orgasm coming by your more and more desperate mewls nanami appreciated you're leaking wet pussy and got ready to destroy it again. he was a patient man to almost everyone and everything, except you. you were his exception including your cunt. with the attributes of being this pussy drunk finally caught up to him.

nanami overloaded your senses. kissing you, rubbing your clit while still at that world crushing pace ended up too much for your dumb little head as you came undone almost immediately. clenching hard as an side affect to the orgasm made nanami chase his even harder.

''p-please too much'' you cried to him.

''is the overstimulation too much for you princess. dont worry, im close''. enjoying every moment of your dilemma of loving it and the extra strokes being to much nanami finally came with his cock kissing your cervix. ''there we go pretty girl''.

[simp999]

Short Lived.

Pairing: Ken Midori x Reader

Series: Beyblade Burst

Wc: 5.4k (help)

A/N: A new friend got me back into beyblade and I needed to write for my old beloved. (Sorry splatoon manga fans, I'm still working on the next chapter!)

A/N 2: I know that the beyblade fans don't vibe on tumblr for the most part, but I am deprived of beyblade fanfic. Take it

Warnings: Ends with fluffy angst (Might make Ch.2 if anyone wants.)

Themes: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers(?)-Not officially lovers but like c'mon now

Masterlist

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you cut the loose threads from the glove you’re trying to sew back together. 

Last night, you had been training with your bey, but it seemed your glove had had enough of the years of sweat, abuse, and regular washes that it had gone through, and gave up on you. It had gotten you through many wins, and you doubt you’d find another just as comfortable since this one is now worn perfectly to your launching hand. You remembered that your school left the home ec. class open after hours, so you figured you’d give attempting to fix your glove a shot, which obviously wasn’t going well. The threads were too far apart, then too loose, then they just looked so badly done, you were ready to give up and buy a new one. Before you were able to fully get up from your seat, a boy came up to you - a brown puppet on one hand, and blue on the other.

The brown one began to talk in a goofy voice; “Hi there! Would you like some help? This guy here likes to think he’s pretty good at sewing.” The blue one cut him off, in a drastically different voice, “Yeah, ya seem to be strugglin’ a bit there.”

You could only stare at the person in amazement. What a skilled ventriloquist! Not only can he speak with minimal movement from his mouth, but he can switch voices so quickly! 

You dismiss your thoughts, remembering the situation at hand. You get a little flustered after examining how badly you managed to mess up your stitching this time, accepting the kind stranger’s offer.

“Yeah… That’d actually be really nice.”

The boy takes a seat in the chair beside you, making sure to keep some distance between you two. He takes off his puppets and places them on the table with care, reaching a hand out toward your glove, silently asking to borrow it. You hand the beaten and well-used glove over, and he carefully but efficiently undoes the miserable stitching that you did. It doesn’t take long before it’s all gone, and you’re mesmerised by the way he so quickly threads the needle and pokes it through the fabric, making seemingly perfect lines. You see that he’s not doing the usual stitch, and you study the way he continues for a bit. He gets about a third through the small hole in the glove before handing it back to you, putting his puppets back on his hands to explain how to do this new stitch. A backstitch. He explains how to do it with maximum efficiency, and tells you that this stitch is great for reinforcing the area, which is exactly what you need.

You’re much slower, and the lines are obviously less straight than his, but this is far better than any previous attempts. He waits for you, pointing out when you begin to put too much space between the holes, or any other details. In the meantime, he introduces himself. Well, the puppets introduce themselves and him. You smile at how cute Keru and Besu are, and marvel at their unique personalities. You quickly learn that Ken’s puppets are very important to him, and that he’s obviously been doing this type of thing since he was young. His skills only further prove that, for both sewing and ventriloquism.

You only notice that you’ve been looking at Ken a little too long when he brings Besu’s little hand up to his face to ‘wipe’ Ken’s cheek, Besu asking if there’s something stuck there. Your face heats up, realizing your mistake, and you quickly assure him that you’re just heavily impressed by his ventriloquism skills. You can see slight surprise cross his face, it seems people don’t often see how difficult his skill really is. Besu thanks you, while Keru boasts about how long Ken’s been practicing for. He gets on to mentioning his puppet shows, and the two of you talk for a bit. It’s cut short when you sheepishly ask him if he can tie the final knot for you.

You try on your glove on the way home, trying to remember all the little details of the person you just met. The spikey, fluffy-looking black hair he had, the comfortable green color scheme, even his little snaggle tooth was hard to miss. It felt like you two spoke for hours, even though it was only probably 20 or so minutes. The sun is halfway through setting, and you find yourself wanting to see him again. You’re sure he went to the same school, it was simply unlucky that he and you had separate classes.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You spent the next couple of days paying more attention to your surroundings at school. Taking the longer routes to classes, walking around during lunch, and even getting out of class a couple of minutes early so you could try to wait at the front door. No luck. 

You didn’t really have anyone to hang out with, your - acquaintances at best - having their closer friends to hang out with. You didn’t mind, but there was something about the puppeteer that had you wanting more of his presence. He just seemed so… kind, and comforting. 

With no luck from your attempts, you decide to test out the bey stadium on top of the school. You heard rumors of it, but never bothered trying it out, favoring the one at the park and the one you had at home- you and your dad had built it. 

Before turning the corner, you heard the all too familiar sound of a bey spinning. You contemplated even going, but you were interested in potentially finding another skilled blader.

A boy with white hair and a black vest is fully concentrated on the red bey before him. You could bet that he’s counting the seconds that it’s spinning for, so you wait to make your presence known so as to not distract him. It spins for an impressive amount of time, and you wait for him to stand up and wipe the sweat from his forehead before approaching him.

“Can I help you?”

“I doubt it, but do you happen to know where I can find a boy named Ken? He wears mostly green, has two puppets-”

“Oh, Ken Midori. I believe he has a puppet show starting sometime soon in the main area of the mall.”

He finally looks at you head-on, and you recognize him. He’s known to be an extremely skilled blader, supposedly the best at school. Shu Kurenai. You pretend to not know him, and you thank him for his time before making your way to the mall. You’ve always tried to keep your beyblading lifestyle on the down-low, changing up your appearance in battle and only really practicing alone. Beyblading isn’t your only personality trait. 

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You smile at all the little kids who are sat down in front of the booth, and imagine all the thankful parents who can finally get somewhat of a break. The story follows an over-confident but weak hero who can’t manage to beat a dragon. Help arrives, and you’re quick to recognize the two puppets and their voices. Your smile grows, and you excitedly wait for the end. No, not the end of the cute story being played, you’re excited to go see the boy managing those two adorable puppets. Though, the story is still engaging and fun. They sure are experienced at what they do.

The puppets bow to their audience, and the curtains close. While kids begin to shuffle through the crowd to meet up with their parents, you carefully make your way over to the booth, watching out for any green and black. A lady comes up to you and asks if she can help with anything, and you see that she has a puppet on one of her hands, one from the show.

“Oh, yes! I’m looking for Ken?”

She nods and calls out his name, and the boy makes his way over to the lady, only spotting you afterward. Besu’s the first to talk:

“Oh! You made it to our show!”

“I was pretty sharp out there, right?!” Keru intervenes, and Besu doesn’t want to feel left out, so the two begin some light banter. Ken breaks it up by giving his two puppets a glare, then he makes them bow their heads, as if they felt bad. You stifle a laugh at the scene before you, happy that you got your own mini show. Ken’s smile slightly grows, and his mother notices, so she tries to give him a little push.

“How about you two go hang out for a while? We’ve got everything covered here, and that’s the last show of the night. As long as Ken’s home by 8:30.”

You bring your hands together to play with the hem of your sleeve, feeling bad about taking her kid away for a bit.

“I don’t mind helping if you’d like?”

“Don’t worry about it, you two go have fun!”

The two of you stand in silence as his mom leaves. Ken’s not sure if he should be frustrated or thankful that his mom just threw him right outside his comfort zone, but either way, he’s stuck with you now.

You check the time on your phone, 6:07.

“We’ve got a couple hours, is there anywhere you’d like to go? Or… We are already at the mall, if you’d like to just walk around?”

Ken admits through Besu that he never really got to check out the mall. You’ve lived in this city your whole life, which means you know this mall quite well. You’re quick to drag him, metaphorically, to your favorite stores that you think he’d like. The two of you find some stickers you like, some shirts, and anything else you find interesting that’s also reasonably priced. You surprise him with a keychain of a cartoon-y dog that looks an awful lot like Besu. He looks happy to receive it, Besu doing a little dance while holding it between his little paws, but Keru crosses his arms and huffs.

You turn around to show him a keychain that you already had attached to your bag, which resembled Keru. Keru’s attitude quickly changes, remarking that he’s the better one because you have his keychain. He and Besu get into another small fight, and you’re once again reminded of Ken’s amazing skill as a ventriloquist.

The night flies by, but you’ve definitely gotten more comfortable with each other. This time, you didn’t forget to exchange contact information, so now you two can plan meet-up times. Once you wave goodbye to Ken, he stands in the middle of the quiet mall, feeling the same way you did after your first meeting. He’s never had a friend before, and he’s deciding that he’d be happy to have you as his first.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

For the next few months, the two of you began hanging out outside of class. You introduce him to places you enjoy, finding out that he really likes this one clear opening in the woods not too far from your home. You went once during the day, finally trusting him enough to show him your special comfort spot. There are lots of flowers, and you even added fairy lights and a few blankets to lay on, thanks to your mom. When moving the branches away from your face and holding them away for Ken, you explain that you like to come here when you want a break from reality, or to just enjoy nature as it is.

“People are always so bombarded with lights, buildings, cars, loud noises, and the like, so we don’t often get to have 'us' time. It’s much prettier at night, we should try to convince your mom to let you stay out a bit later one night. Maybe on a weekend?”

“We often have lots of plays on the weekends, but I think our first one for next Sunday is later in the day, so if we go next Saturday night after the play it should work.” He still uses his puppets to speak, and you still love them just as much as the first day they spoke to you. They are really cute and fun, after all.

“Alright, a week and a half from now, then! Don’t forget!” Ken nods, excited to see what this place looks like at night. It seems you put lots of care into the surrounding area.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

The next day, you had planned to meet up after school. At the end of your last class of the day, you get a text from your favorite ventriloquist saying his club is having an emergency meeting. You were really hoping to hang out with him, and you wouldn’t mind if there are other people around, so you ask if his club would be okay with you lingering around. He thinks about it, and figured that his friends wouldn’t mind, so the two of you meet up and you follow him to the roof.

You quietly follow behind him, a little nervous about meeting his friends. You wouldn’t usually be like this, but these are Ken’s friends, so there was a good chance you’d be seeing them time and time again. 

The first one to pep up is a boy with short, blond hair, he seems to be pretty eccentric. His energy is really fun and he gives off good vibes, it feels like being around him could put you in a better mood overall, which is nice. You wave at him after he points you out, and he gives you a bright grin. You notice Shu nod at you, you’re surprised he must have remembered you. The next to speak is a shorter boy with dark blue hair, and it’s a little hard to make out what he’s saying thanks to how fast he’s talking. Something about asking if you’re Ken’s friend, then about blading.

What was that about blading? It seems the friend group quieted down after he asked you the question, also wanting an answer. Noticing your lost expression, the blondie from earlier repeats his friend’s question.

“Do you do any beyblading?”

You could tell them, but you don’t like it when your name gets out there.

“Not that much.”

“But you have a bey?”

“...Yeah.”

The blue-haired boy is quick to challenge you to a battle, but you’re not really feeling up to it. You’re not a big fan of showing off your skills to any unnecessary opponents. You don’t also want to make a fool of yourself. The ‘meeting’ goes on, and they discuss an upcoming tournament. The plan for this meeting is just to battle. They introduce themselves to you one by one, then decide that they’re going to do a tournament-style set of battles. They don’t have enough players for it to start out evenly, though. They manage to convince you to join, and you agree on the condition that you get to battle Ken in the first round. It’s the only way you’d be able to hold back.

Anyone else and you’d end up with a quick and effortless burst finish.

Valt’s up first against Honcho- or Rantaro, you’re not sure which name to use since he introduced himself as Honcho, but all the others called him Rantaro. You’re surprised at how much skill is shown before you, you may have underestimated these players. Not like it matters, though. It’s then Shu against Daigo, and you already know the outcome before it starts. Finally, you end up against Ken.

You both take your positions, and you opt to not do any strength-inducing launches, so you keep it basic. You already know exactly how this match is going to do. Your eyes flicker up from the stadium to Ken, and he looks really focused on where he intends to send his bey. He makes it all too obvious that he’s going straight to the center. You barely give the launch 15% of your power, and you let him win with a survivor finish.

As if you’d have the heart to hurt him - Well, his ego. You congratulate him on the win, and remind the gang that you don’t blade that much, with a hand stretching the back of your head and a half-smile.

“No worries! At least now our tournament can continue!”

You lean back on the bench, examining the players’ battle styles. You focus mainly on Ken’s of course, and he’s a lot stronger than you had anticipated. You watch the battle between him and Valt, the underdog pulling through. It almost looked like a stroke of complete luck that he’d won against Ken, but as much as you’d like to say that, an experienced blader’s eyes like yours could catch the hidden skill that Valt has.

He comes and sits beside you, encouraging his friends. You tag along, rooting for them. Daigo sits on the other side of you, since there isn’t anywhere else to sit and his legs are tired. The two of you don’t exchange any words, but you gain a mutual respect for each other. You like his style, and he approves of you as Ken’s friend, you seem like a good pair to him. He won’t say that aloud, though.

That weekend, Ken calls you to see if you can hang out. You try your best to never turn him down, even ditching plans just to hang out with him, but you’ve got a battle in a tournament that you can’t miss. You feel bad about it, but it can’t be helped. You tell him that you’re busy, and he assures you that it’s alright and he’ll just go watch his friends battle.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You throw on your hood and a cloth facemask, adjusting the elastics on the sides to be comfortable. This mask is really breathable, and has a cool design that consists of two rows of cartoony sharp teeth. It’s perfect for concealing your identity while you blade.

Your opponent is already up on stage when you walk up, Hanami announcing you as the Mysterious blader, only known as X. You take a glance at the crowd, there seems to be more people showing up at your battles as time goes on. You refuse to go easy when it comes to important battles, so you steady your arms and plant your feet for maximum power.

3, 2, 1, LET IT RIP!

The crowd cheers, and your hood slips down from the force of your launch. That’s why the mask is important. The hand resting next to your hips subtly brings up three fingers. Then it hides one. One left. As you bring down your index, the opponent’s bey bursts. Six seconds, it seems you were feeling generous today.

Another quick glance at the crowd was intended only to observe their reaction, but your eyes caught someone unexpected. He wasn’t supposed to be here. The puppets on his hands seemed to be as surprised as him, their mouths wide open. Before he can make any sort of movement as your eyes linger on him, you shuffle over to the changing room. You try to be subtle when you leave, checking around corners before walking past, but that someone still manages to find you. He runs up to you, hugging you excitedly, but still gently, from behind, having Besu voice his excitement.

“I knew it was you!”

Keru’s quick to add on,

“Why didn’t ya go all out against Ken, though? You’re a really strong blader!”

You take a quick look around, making sure that nobody else is in the area before taking off the mask and hoodie.

“I wanna keep it on the down low. Getting challenged left and right isn’t too fun. And I didn’t have the heart to go all out.”

The last part was muttered, but Ken heard it. He chose to ignore it, though.

“You don’t enjoy lots of battles?” Besu sounded like he was a mix of sad and curious.

“Well, I’ll be honest, I underestimated your friends. I didn’t think they’d be fun to battle, but I might just have to one of these days. I’ll only do it in a competition, though.”

Ken nods, then stands still for a second. It seems there’s a lot running through his mind. His smile grows all of a sudden, and he hugs you again.

“We need to battle for real sometime, okay?”

You embrace the hug, then let go, with your hands still on his hips. You nod, agreeing to it. You may not have the heart to go all out right away, but you’re sure that if you do it enough, one day you two could have a really all-out, fun battle. The two of you have to go separate ways since it’s dinner time, but not before you promise to battle him often.

As you walk off, he finds himself staring at you in amazement. That opponent surely wasn’t weak, you were already a couple of rounds deep in the tournament. He had come to watch the previous battle, which featured Valt, but ended up staying because he was curious about Valt’s possible future opponents. He had gotten quite the reality check instead, realizing how awesome his friend is. Yeah…friend. 

That moment, Ken makes a big decision: 'That’s going to have to change. Next weekend.'

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

The next couple of days go by as usual, having lunch with the beyclub, and hanging out with Ken a couple of times throughout the week. Although, It’s hard to miss the way he seems to slowly inch closer to you when he’s near you, or how he may have messaged you a little more often than usual, asking how you were or if you remembered to eat. 

But Tuesday, that all stopped. He went quiet. You didn’t receive a 'Good morning, see you at school!' text. He didn’t have Besu pitch into the conversation, nor did he have Keru butt in with any snarky remarks during the beyclub battles after school. He still answered when spoken to, but he seemed very… out of it. Dazed? Like he had something else on his mind. You were worried about him, especially since you planned on hanging out with him in a couple of days. You have been planning this late-night meeting for a while now, and you really hoped that he still intended on coming.

But he didn’t move away when you moved closer to him, and he didn’t flinch when you put your hand in his and rubbed your thumb against it. You wanted him to know that you’d be there for him, no matter what. You wanted to so badly tell him that you- no. That can wait.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

The night finally came. The sun was almost done setting, and Ken still hadn’t made it to your house yet. Now this was getting worrying. After debating for a few minutes, you finally sent him a text.

[“Hey, we’re still on tonight, right?”]

[“Of course, I’m on my way.”]

You let out a sigh of relief, unsure of why you ever doubted him. Of course you could trust him, he was the person that you were closest to, the person you cared about the most. 

You look up from your dark phone screen when you hear hurried footsteps. Ken speaks through Besu, telling you that his mom wanted help deep-cleaning the house. You give him a nod, and you gently grab his hand, (you grab Keru?), and lead him to your favorite clearing. You move the branches away, being careful as to not let them smack Ken when you let go.

Ken doesn’t notice that you two have made it to the clearing until you announce it, probably because the fairy lights weren’t on. You lead him to the blanket, getting him to make himself comfortable before finally turning on the lights with a “ta-daaa~”

You had meant for all this to feel a little silly, wanting to get rid of the tense atmosphere, but you immediately saw just about every worry leave Ken’s eyes as the lights flickered on. It’s like he was finally made aware of how dreamy the world could be, and it almost seemed as if his eyes twinkled when they met yours. 

Must have just been the lights. 

You sit beside him, eventually deciding to lie down once your arms got too strained from holding yourself up. The only thing filling the silence was the quiet buzzing of any nearby bugs, and the crickets. Ken let himself fall from his sitting position not too long after you did, and he was quick to pull you close to him. Impossibly close, even, as he had your head laying on his chest.

He’s never been this bold before, and you can easily tell that he’s nervous with how hard his heart is beating. You snuggle closer, if possible, and you’re almost on the brink of falling asleep. Before you can though, the fairy lights die out, allowing you to see the infinite amount of stars above you. There’s no better time than now.

“Hey.”

Ken slightly adjusts his head so his eyes can meet yours, but you don’t share his glance.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

His breath hitches. You catch the way his chest no longer moves up and down, and your lips waver, afraid you may have made a mistake. He most definitely understood what was implied, his reaction making it a dead giveaway. 

It’s silent for what feels like hours, the only thing breaking it being his uneven breath. Then, his light sobs. You immediately half-sit up, focusing all your attention on Ken. 

There’s a big, strained smile on his face, the kind that only shows when you’re the last person trying to convince yourself that everything’s alright. It begins to fade, and tears only begin to fall faster when you envelop him in a hug. He hugs you tighter, tighter than he ever has before, almost like he’s afraid to lose you. No, as if he’s afraid to leave you. 

You back off by a couple inches when his weak hold finally allows it, and you bring a hand up to wipe one of the many tears from his cheek. You eventually have to courage to raise enough for Ken to hear.

“Ken…did I say something wrong? I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s not your fault that you loved me.”

You both sit in silence. Your hand weakly starts to weigh itself down, away from his face, while he avoids any kind of eye contact. This was the first time you heard his voice.

“I…I don’t want to leave. I can’t just leave you, you mean so much to me!”

He begins to ramble, and it starts to become hard to understand him when the tears come right back.

“Ken, my love, I’d never leave you. What makes you think-”

“No, no, my family. My family’s puppet shows are making me travel. I have to change schools. I have to leave. I have to leave you.”

.

.

.

“Oh.”

That’s what that meant. 

He’s leaving. 

You may never see each other again.

“...When?”

“I need to start packing tomorrow. I also need to tell the bey club.”

You nod absentmindedly, you mind trying to come up with any possible, futile ways to keep him here. When nothing useful comes up, you slowly reach your hands around his torso and lay down. He allows it.

He can feel a wet spot form on his shirt, but he only embraces you tighter. He strokes your hair as gently as he can, resisting the urge to burst out into tears again. It’s much harder when the love of his life is past that point, lying on his chest, and there isn’t much else he can do as comfort.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ ..·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

You awake the next morning to rays of sunshine crossing your face, and you groggily attempt to sit up, but the arms wrapped around you won’t allow it. You quickly recognize the fluffy, black hair you grew so used to, and the area in the woods that you loved so much. That was all you needed as confirmation that no, none of what had happened was a dream. Your eyes want to well up again, but your body refuses, still tired from last night.

Finally, Ken’s grip loosens a bit when he takes in the situation as well, but it quickly tightens again when the two of you are sat back up.

“Don’t you still have to tell the beyclub?”

“...Yeah.”

Ken makes no effort to move until you do, grabbing his hand and letting him take the lead to wherever he had planned on meeting the club. Before he turned the corner, he takes a deep breath in and plasters the usual smile on his face. You hadn’t let go of his hand, so he currently only has Besu on. 

You don’t plan on letting go any time soon.

Xander ends up interrupting the beyclub, and you all find yourselves at the Shakadera Dojo, the Beyclub battling the Swordflames. Halfway through the team battles, Daigo finally speaks up about something being off about Ken, and he slips his hand out of yours, swiftly making his way out of the dojo. You follow the beyclub, finally ending up at the top of a cliff, where they question Ken. 

You know it hurts. 

It hurts, even more, to say it out loud.

“Want me to tell them?”

He quickly looks your way, and his face is mixed with surprise, panic, sadness, and many other emotions. A slight nod towards you, and you somehow manage to utter out the words that Ken couldn’t. Only once it came to the part about him not wanting to leave could he finally speak up, and you could tell his eyes were starting to gloss over again, same as yours. It almost seemed as if a heavy weight was taken off his shoulders, only to be replaced with a heavier one. The clear emotions being shown by his friends didn’t help, and that made him want to get away as soon as possible.

Not paying attention to his surroundings, the rock beneath him crumbles, making him slip. He closes his eyes, preparing for the worst.

He opens his eyes to see your face, jam-packed with adrenaline. You pull him back up thanks to the help of the beyclub, and the two of you sit for a second, trying to comprehend everything that just happened. 

Then, Daigo lays out the idea that everyone will still be friends no matter where you are. That gives the rest of the club hope, and Ken’s eyes fill with determination. The two of you stand up, and you piggy-back off off Daigo’s idea, assuring him that you’ll be there for him no matter where you are. 

You refuse to let go of his hand once again, up until he has to get into the truck to make his way to his new home.

“Hey, don’t forget to shoot me a text anytime, okay?” 

Your nerves are getting the better of you, but Ken reassures you that he’ll keep in contact. He pulls you in for one last hug.

He doesn’t let go until his mom calls to him, and even then he waits another minute.

“I love you. And distance won’t change that. Don’t get hung up on me, though, go enjoy life.”

You let out a sad chuckle,

“As if I could ever move on. I’ll still love you, even with the distance.”

One last deep breath and he gets in the truck that begins to drive off.

The beyclub members shout their last goodbyes and you give the last word;

“Be safe, Love!”

May.21.23

[chaisshitposts]

hi chai i hope you don’t mind this ask as i feel this might come as unwanted advice that can seem somewhat pessimistic to some so i apologise in advance but i mean no harm.

I am only trying to help and wish i’d known this right when i started to “manifest” or enter the void, and also as someone who’s been on loablr since 2021 and have read possibly every single success story that exists on here, here are some things to keep in mind:

there are many people that did the 10k affirmation challenge and didn’t end up getting their desires, why? cause they most certainly affirmed 10K times for their desires (while it’s proven scientifically to work)

but still happened to fail, cause they most probably thought against their desires; which was the strongest argument the states girlies used to have.

REMEMBER: you cannot be two things at once, you either have it or you don’t so which side are you on through the day and as you fall asleep?

(i mention the falling asleep bit cause i personally felt anxious at times going to sleep knowing i am still not where i want to be so if you’re doing the same thing, please stop. That’s the state you’re falling asleep to😭 it’s doing you no good😭)

(also i am not siding with any method, all methods work)

lesson learnt from this: nothing matters if you’re not strict with your mental diet, your 4D, your imagination.

(I’m not saying you have to suppress your feelings cause that can’t be good)

@moonbakeries used to vent for as long as she liked but made sure to persist in her 4D and she changed her life. please go through her blog to understand this better.

when i see people being consistent for weeks on here doing everything right and coming you to update (i love to see the discipline) but can’t help and wonder if they are persistent with their new story throughout

because i have been in their shoes before and had little to no success. (and as i follow you i can’t help but be reminded of my own failure cause i’ve been there before and the burnout isn’t pretty.)

I appreciate your support to all of your followers. I mean no offence to anyone but i really think i had to come out of my lurking bubble and let my mistake be known loud and clear so that others don’t make the same mistake as I did.

I feel like if we all delete tumblr, strictly only persist in our 4D for a week straight, we all would be living our dream lives.

Proof: rae’s death revision success story @itsravenbitch

@moonbakeries dream life success story

time taken? seven days.

DISCLAIMER:

i know we are all different and we shouldn’t think of time as a relative thing cause it’s literally not real. so obviously don’t think of seven days as a deadline (silly of me to mention it now after saying all that lol but you get the point)

if you fall in love with your imagination, you won’t care about time and the 3D (i know it’s hard with circumstances which is why i still haven’t personally succeeded) but please try. It will change your life.

Reminds me of another success story (anonymous) they changed their gender just by identifying as their ideal gender. I cannot remember if it was ftm or mtf i’m sorry but whenever someone mentioned/referred to them as their older gender, they literally didn’t care cause they knew the were their ideal gender and one day, they woke up to being their desired gender. That’s all it took.

the most common takeaway from all success stories is: BELIEVE, TRUST, HAVE FAITH.

(yes, doubts are common)

@moonbakeries mentioned it too, people that entered the void had doubts too but managed to persist, @gorgeouslypink also doubted the void till the moment she entered herself but still entered the void.

BUT CONTINUE TO PERSIST

The 3D (notice how i say “the” and not “your” cause it’s not yours) is none of your business.

Your 4D (imagination) is the real deal. Just like day is followed by the night, your imagination has to show up too, no matter what. let this sink in please.

I know discipline matters, please continue to do what you’re doing if it helps you stay consistent with your new story but actively make sure to persist in your new story, your FAV story. it’s so so crucial. That’s all!

I really want to be off anon but not sure how this message would be taken so i choose to stay anonymous lol

sending love to all!

thank you for your words of wisdom and motivation, I appreciate the strength it took to write this. I know that this will certainly be a wake up call to many.

[ifaeree]

I don't know how to start (and sorry if I have any grammar or spelling mistakes, my english is not the best and I might use google translate to help if necessary). So... I honestly didn't have many expectations on this new game but I was like "let's see and decide" and at first I was really dissapointed because of the prices of the bank outfits and the VIP pass (which I am considering in purchaising only if I really love the outfit). But... I am enjoying the game at this point for these reasons:

1.- Taki

Taki was the reason I decide giving this game a chance because I love Eldarya and I always wanted the chance to dress the companions ( but it's understandable that it isn't possible since there are a lot of them). I know some players don't like Taki, but I really love him/her and I love it's sound and animations.

2. The messages

When I discover that the love interests where going to send messages to us after the episodes if we are up to date with them I was like "weeeeell, I supose I'm not receiving any messages since I am not planing on in-game purchasing so I might not be up to date with the episodes" (I was SO wrong btw).

I really love this because it give me a little of Mystic Messenger vibes, but I hate that there is a timer which ironically also reminds me of MM.

3. The games

- Style contest: I like it because I it as an opoortunity to get hearts, gems and APs -playing AND voting. I LOVE that we can share items to other players and vice versa. The only thing I don't like are the themes (they are the same always) and I am still trying to win "Green with envy" dressing my newcrette as Melody from the original MCL 😭

- The other game whose name I don't remember even in spanish: just to say i don't like that the times to wait are too long and that it makes me remember Eldarya and I am still sad because the game died T-T

4. Jason and Thomas

So... I was really interested in him before the game was released but I was dissapointed with some of his actions in the first four episodes. But I really love the 🌶️ tension in the last episode.

Anyway, I allready fell for Thomas and he is soooooo cute. i can't and will not betray him.

But... I am still interested in see what will happen with the ones who will choose to make a "deal" with Jason. And I really hope it ends in a really really REALLY bad ending. Because I really need that possibily of having a bad ending in the game. It makes the game for interesting (at least for me).

Anyway. That's all (I think). I am not used to use tumblr and I even forgot my password and had to change it.

Thank you so much @tetrakys for the opportunity to get the e-girl code. I think I am still in time...

And if not, I already wrote all this and it's not like I am going to just erase it, specially since I used every last neuron to remember all the english classes I took at school to write this.

Thank you again Tetra

Love you all

Good luck

And good luck everyone.

5. Room customization

Last but not less important (and I just remember xd)

I love that we can custom the room. This wasn't an option in the original MCL and in Eldarya we only have a background already made.

Now that's all.

Whoot whoot!

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

My Apology.

//If you follow this blog, especially if you’re a follower who was around yesterday, then I ask nicely you take the time to listen to me.

//To get straight to the point, I’m here because I want to apologize.

//For those who are unawares, yesterday, I discovered that Tumblr had made the absolute god awful mistake of forcing me to use their god awful new post editor for asks. Before I went on a three week break, I was allowed to use the legacy editor for my asks, thus I wasn’t weighed down by any of the issues that the new editor brings. I have a long list of problems with it, and depending on how things go, I might make a post tonight about it.

//Me and the new editor don’t get along, and my problems go very deep underwater. Bottom line is I think changing the post editor to what it has now become since the legacy editor, mainly with the uncomfortable UI, different ways of posting images, and of course the image limit, is frankly an idiotic decision that I am furious about.

//And if you were around yesterday you would know that, because I said something really shitty yesterday.

//I still have access to the legacy, unlimited editor for Tumblr in the regular post asks, and I’m hoping it remains that way because, as someone who has been on Tumblr for years now, writing this story that has become a huge part of my life, so I have the right to keep the old editor. But if the people at staff decide to turn around and remove the right to use it from me, blocking me from using Legacy Editor ever again, I threatened that I would never ever use their website again, and Danganronpa Survivor would end before it’s time.

//I ended up saying things like “my days on this platform are numbered” and junk. And I realized almost immediately after I finished answering asks last night that that was REALLY shitty of me.

//It didn’t occur to me just how much some of you love this story and my work. And the fact that I threatened to take that away from you just because of my issues with the new editor was just...straight up wrong of me.

//But it doesn’t end there, because I ended up bringing it to another blog too. You might have seen me ask on main from @a-student-out-of-time what the mods way of bypassing the editor limits was, and then grieve about it over there as well.

//So not only did I kick up a shitstorm, I brought said shitstorm to another blog who had absolutely no reason to be caught up in all of it.

//The good news is that the mods and people over on that server were really supportive. The main mod who runs the blog is a well put-together person and just gave me straight up facts that being defeatist isn’t going to solve anything. On top of that, the askers who know/follow both our blogs recognized that I’ve been through a lot lately, and that these changes don’t help.

//While that is true, that’s not an excuse.

//I don’t know if I ever openly talked about it before, though I don’t really try to hide it, but here’s a fun little fact about me that you might not have known before: I am autistic!

//And unlike some people, that’s never been something I’ve ever had a problem with. I LIKE being different, and I like having the weird, zany thoughts that I do, because without them, this blog wouldn’t be as special as it is to me or to you guys. But GOD it’s a pain in the ass to function as a normal human being sometimes and deal with my problems on my own.

//Sometimes I feel like I have a brain that’s two or three years younger than my body, and I’m prone to throwing temper tantrums and getting angry when things don’t go my way. And when I saw just how nervous and upset some of you were when I said the blog would be shutting down, it made me realize that, as always, I overreacted.

//And I hate that I acted like that. So I’m sorry to those people, I’m sorry to everyone in the ask box who follows me, and I’m sorry to ASooT’s audience too for dragging you into this.

//Maybe this apology is a little overblown and excessive for what it is; it’s not like I’ve killed a person or anything, but I still probably hurt a lot of people’s feelings and upset them, and I need to make it clear that I am remorseful for that.

//So let me make it clear now that DR Survivor IS NOT ENDING. I will do my absolute damndest to power throw the shitty editor, and if what I fear will happen happens, then I’ll figure something out. Either I’ll work around it, find someone who can bring the old editor back, or my safest bet - switching to an entirely new website. What that website is, I don’t know yet, but I’m preparing to find one just in case.

//However, should all else fail, Tumblr does plan to implement a subscription service that removes the image limit. I am willing to pay for that service to keep the blog running, but that’s not the only thing about the post editor that I dislike, so I don’t know what to do about it. I do have some time to decide though.

//That all being said, one last thing I want to make clear is that even if I wish to apologize for my behavior, that doesn’t mean my feelings towards the new editor have not changed. So if Tumblr staff by any chance are reading this post, I want to say this:

//I know you don’t care how any of us feel, and I know you still plan to “develop” your new editor more, but as I said in a previous post, you fucked up massively. Even if you want to develop the editor further, if the final product keeps the changes you’ve already made to it, then congrats. You’ve officially ruined your entire website FOREVER.

//And if I’m being honest, with the way I’ve seen the people in charge act about it; and not to point fingers and spout bullshit or anything, but...it seems to me like you KNOW your changes don’t benefit anyone, and for some reason, don’t actually seem to CARE?

//Maybe I’m wrong, but if I am, I really want to be proven wrong.

//Anyway, enough of that. I’ve said what I’ve needed to say and will finish off by just apologizing one more time. I am still going to write this story, even if it becomes all the more painful for me to do so.

//And in case this post hasn’t made it obvious, your support GREATLY matters to me. I write this blog, but you guys run it, and without you, I wouldn’t be here. So I will do whatever it takes to make sure you keep your content. And that this story continues for a while to come.

-Mod

[breads-is-writing-some-shit]

Chapter 1 : Introducing Daniel "Bread" Lima

The new partner of the Dagger team.

Author's Note: Hi everyone, I hope you are doing wonderful right now. This warning is quick. I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes or mistakes about anything in this story. I am open to criticism and suggestions. I'm not new to writing but this is the first time I've written publicly for Tumblr, so I just hope you're kind and enjoy well-told stories. The story I created tries to fit in real details about the characters that I didn't create like the aviators, however, this ends up being my vision of them that will eventually change since the purpose of this story, which will be long, is to tell how the dagger squadron feels attracted to the newcomer who seems to be the mix of everything they particularly and intimately like and how this interest affects the group. I tried to write a mature and consistent story about varied spectrums of this relationship and I'm counting on you to read it and give your opinions with all due respect. That said, good reading.

Author's Note 2: I may be making a beginner's mistake and forgetting a lot of things, like tags, but I can't help but mention @fangirlvibez (you are amazing) who hasn't even read the story and is already waiting for updates, I'll try to be assiduous at least once a week.

It was already well past sunset and what Daniel needed after the trip was something to drink. It was hot that night, and it was the best idea to get to know the neighborhood, or rather the city. His previous boss assigned him to complete this team as a member and they appeared to have been working for just over a year after an “impossible mission”. He had little information about the mission, which despite being difficult, was a great success if not counting After the setbacks, Captain Maverick was teaching the airmen and this was a good opportunity for Daniel. He called his only contact on site, and how lucky he was. In the contact list, Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell called him without much ceremony , after all, the next day he would be presenting himself as his assistant and student. Daniel, despite having a certain reputation as an aviator, having three confirmed kills, could not boast as they were all confidential missions and he only knew that Maverick publicly shot down five in addition to having He had been an aircraft test pilot. He obviously had a lot of questions. But when Maverick took him out on the other side in such a friendly manner, he preferred that those not be his first impressions of the aviator who would probably be his wingman until the end of that year.

"Yes, I arrived this afternoon, I already unpacked everything in record time, and of course I'm anxious but really, I just needed to relax. Do you know any place, a bar or spot to enjoy before the hard work tomorrow?" Daniel subtly faked a laugh to show that he needed it, that it was half true. He was interested in the drinks, but the captain's company would be a great aggravating factor, he could find out about all pending matters since the captain seemed to be quite reckless even with so many exploits under his belt.

"I have the perfect place in mind but you'll have to get there alone, consider it a reconnaissance mission. No need to report back to me at the end, I'll go as soon as I can to see someone there too, Penny. She can help you if If you're nervous. She's an incredible, beautiful woman and we're convincing ourselves that our relationship is going great. But you don't need to tell her about me. If something happens or you get nervous, count on her. But here's some advice: Be yourself and everything will be fine." His deep laugh was more than enough to determine that he would probably let you deal with that situation alone after it arrived.

Daniel dressed very casually, trying to look like a civilian tourist. Tight pants, simple but shiny shoes and a long-sleeved, high-neck t-shirt. Combed hair and thick glasses. Besides a perfume, you never know when he might win over someone decent tonight.

Maverick was direct when he sent a message on his cell phone indicating the location of the Hard Deck, where civilians and airmen played at tables, drank and listened to great sounds at the same time. It was perfect just stopping at that. But the message indicated that the Dagger squad would be there. Excellent.

After 20 minutes you paid for the Uber ride and said goodbye to the driver, showing her the five stars. She wished her a good night and good luck, which Daniel responded with a chuckle before turning towards the bar.

The Hard Deck was brawnily charming even from the outside. Music was playing loudly, before the beach, and it was hard to miss. you could feel the fun energy the place had from afar, Daniel was in love with the place. A few more steps and the new mission began. Identify the entire squad until Maverick arrives. And there Daniel was almost about to enter when the door opens and there are two airmen, in that unmistakable and tight khaki uniform, carrying a complaining man and throwing him against the sand. One of them was tall with dark skin, very presentable with a friendly and intense face at the same time and the other was a shorter blonde, with a classy pose and an impeccable smile rolling a toothpick between his lips. They said something about not having paid for the drinks and were going back when they saw and greeted Daniel in a cordial, polite way, but it was possible to feel that there was a “snack” in the way they took their steps back to the bar. Before the door closed, Daniel saw them both look back with familiar laughter and the blonde patted the brunette's chest with an air that said “Today we're going to get along”. They smile when they notice Daniel entering right behind, but different from what they expected or not, Daniel goes straight to the counter hoping to find a familiar face.

Daniel greets the woman at the bar, beautiful and starts scanning the bar, already noticing a small variety and when he was putting his cell phone on the counter his gaze quickly passes by the woman at the bar watching you, the bar attendant has a smile shaking her head and Looking into Daniel's eyes, she points to a sign next to her and Then to the bell above her. on the sign “Anyone who disrespects a lady or the Navy…”

You thank her for the warning and smile at her.

"Yeah, I don't want to play the 'I'm new in town' card yet, so I'll just thank you for the warning and order a whiskey and then something stronger to lift my thoughts after all the alcohol. I'm waiting for a colleague who will introduce me everything. I can stay here and watch the movement if it doesn't bother you, I want to meet them." You say pointing to a pool table full of aviators around a game.

"If you like, my partner will arrive soon. And he can even help you with that, he's their instructor."

"No kidding, you're Penny. Wow, you're even more beautiful than I imagined. Captain Maverick can't find any more adjectives to fill you with quality. He's crazy about you and now I understand why. I'm the rookie who came to join a mission. I need more experience with this team and the legendary Maverick." You finish and the woman thanks you for the cheap exposure, giving you space to start studying her before Maverick makes his entrance. Penny engages in the conversation like a good listener, until she is satisfied with confirming what she heard from Maverick.

"Newbie?! He seems pretty humble from what Pete told me. You did well at the gym and are here recommended by your superiors to participate in their new plan. I'd say I'm pretty curious about what else you know how to do up there and here. Until then, all I heard were rumors but you confirmed everything, except for some that you seem to insist on humility. Better be prepared for them, they've heard too much from Maverick about you. Like you're super good in bed according to your colleagues on the old team. Words from Maverick.”

“Oh my God, he didn’t spread it. Obviously it's an invention. I'm not so-” Daniel was in the middle of his defense (or burial) when she points to the pool table surrounded by more of those aviators after a taller one in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses and a small, neatly trimmed mustache walks in. in the mess. Penny completes the vision with her comment: “It's not me who needs to make these lame excuses, it's them who are curious about the captain's mysterious assistant who is as good at shooting down jets as he is in bed. Let me try to help you by talking about them. ”

“Okay Penny, it starts with who’s leading that game.” Penny hears his plea and follows his gaze to the table. The boastful and arrogant blonde has a cue sliding across the pool table, calculating the best angles for his shot when he looks away for a moment just to give a sighing smile of triumph, and soon Daniel notices the clear gaze on him, as if I knew I was watching his skill in that game and then he turned his gaze to the table, taking a firm shot, hitting the ball in a corner, disappearing with two and extending his hand in the air to celebrate hitting the brunette that Daniel saw earlier. They seemed too friendly between them. Daniel took the opportunity to look at the second one there, the dark-skinned one.

He was carrying three beers, he replaced one for the dominant one on the table and took a sip looking at Daniel, giving a smile then even offering a quick wink and turned his gaze to the table already raising the drink to a couple who were watching the game, the The shorter one was discussing the game with another in a restrained way. This first one had his hair cut very short and his young features gave him a boyish look if he matched the guy behind him, dark-skinned and tall with a thin mustache who offered another drink to a woman with her hair tied tightly in a bun that looked like Entertained in the game as well as the duo that commented next to her, she was in front of another of them, a blonde with thin glasses who seemed very interested and shy in a way. To finish the quick trip through the bar, there was that other tall guy with a peculiar mustache, an open flowered t-shirt and aviator glasses that differed from everyone who was wearing a khaki uniform, he and two others further away, one being tall and frowning and the other a little taller. short with a nicer face and a woman and a young Asian man far away drinking. It wasn't so easy to distinguish everyone, but when Penny approached the counter to refill her glass, you ordered a beer and asked her to bring a round to the group.

"It's those over there, the Dagger squadron that I'm going to start working with tomorrow. It looks like an interesting team. I didn't have photos of them as I wanted to meet them all in person, and I also only had a basic description of each and an aviator resume. Would you like to help me putting names to faces? I would really appreciate it. Maverick will be arriving soon and I want to surprise him a little, since I'll be working alongside him."

Penny smiled and lifted her flannel to begin sorting out her requested beers. And she returned to their table with plenty of beers and when the guy in the Hawaiian shirt saw the drinks he seemed to question when she received a slight nod pointing towards you at the counter. He took the

drink and lifted it towards him, taking a sip, lowering his glasses in a sensual way, seeing his eyes behind his glasses, slightly sliding down his nose as he drank the beer. The bottles were taken to the pool table, where there was a group with a beautiful girl with well-tied hair, a couple with a short guy and a dark-skinned guy, there was more of a dark-skinned guy and a blonde guy who was a little shorter, very impeccable, as well as a furthest group with a woman and three other men. She moved to the corner, lifting a bottle of water and a glass of peanuts, they were for the blonde with glasses who caught her attention due to his shyness, he had already met Daniel's gaze several times but he always withdrew his curiosity and returned for half a second, following a teenage smile, it was charming.

Penny walked a little further away with the last few beers, taking one to a man in uniform with a serious face who was literally in the dark corner looking at some papers and as soon as he received the drink he immediately tried to lift the drink and greet you from there with a smile too, charming and serious, he started to get up but went deeper and disappeared into the crowd, in the direction of the bathrooms. Penny came back quickly from her round and placed the tray on the table as if it was all a chore and she hadn't gotten the hang of it.

"Let the introductions begin. Where should I begin?" Penny makes a curious smile before starting to scan the bar staff until a smile escapes. “Okay, since you made an impression on those there, I’ll start with them, so you can fit in faster.”

Penny signals to the tall blonde leaning against the table.

“Hangman, confident in his abilities both in heaven and on earth. He loves to tease, but he's not exactly a terrible person, and he's very honest about everything. Fun and flirtatious. He's even been charming us here since you arrived. Even so, be careful. His little friend is Coyote, he looks serious but is fun, friendly and lighthearted. He's always providing the group with his company and has great conversations if you get tired of some arrogant airman. He doesn't have many problems getting along with anyone, but he takes it easy.

There by their side are Payback, the tallest and shortest Fanboy, a pilot and his WSO, will love them both. They have a great sense of humor and are sharp as a team. The other pair, Phoenix and Bob, the girl is very strong and confident as she should be and it is extremely easy to talk to her, but be careful because she is not an ordinary woman, and your WSO from Lemoore, of all people can being the easiest to become close to because he is extremely charismatic despite appearing to be shy at first, but he is skilled in several areas and fast, in addition to being cute.

The one who arrived the most late and is even getting ready to go to the piano is Rooster, everyone loves him and everyone falls in love with him. It has a unique style but Maverick said it's all inherited from his father, Goose, who Pete flew with before the accident. Long story, but this guy is patient, very friendly and has other good aspects that only those who know him personally can list.

Right there you have Halo and Omaha, WSO and pilot who have been as a team since they arrived with Yale and Harvard also a pilot duo and WSO, Omaha and Harvard are sometimes walking together and could even form a duo if asked because they seem close there and their relationship is very similar to Phoenix and BOB. The last smiling driver is Fritz, it's difficult to say much about these last five because I didn't get to talk to them for a long time.

And there's his Vice Admiral Cyclone, serious and practical. He is soft spoken but knows how to be strict. Don't be too impulsive, he seems to be old school and competes with others there like Maverick, but apart from his professional appearance, he is a sweet person. I should talk to him a lot, he doesn't have much contact with the aviators but he is always watched from afar, like now.”

Daniel snorts at the amount of information.

“You'll get used to it, they're all incredible and they're great, you'll learn a lot from them and I'm sure you'll teach them more too. There will be time for that. Right Pete?” Penny comes down from the counter with Daniel to hug Pete, leaving Daniel with the drink. Pete extends his hand to greet Daniel before issuing the challenge.

“And how are the presentations going, have you spoken to any of them, or would you prefer to leave it for tomorrow?”

"I don't know Captain, I feel like I should do something but it seems like I'm at a fair with so many looks, if I may say so, their curiosity seems to exceed the professional limit. We have almost the same rank and you are a legend to me, But everything becomes difficult to take when I have the information that you've been spreading these 'stories' about me. That's not exactly true, if I may."

“Now Daniel, you don’t need to be anxious about this, I don’t doubt that you’re great in bed. It's not me who is curious to test this idea. I just received information and passed on as much as I could about you to them. I have not excluded any detail of what I heard about you. It's okay, we are human, men and we have needs, you don't need to worry about me, if that's your issue. Go there."

Daniel grabs one last beer before dragging himself off the counter, still nervous. From where he starts to approach, he already notices Hangman showing an incredible pearly smile that even brings a smile, when you pass by him, Hangman lowers his head as if in disbelief but you send him one last smile that catches his attention and you position yourself in the center . Close to Payback and Phoenix.

“You two are the least thirsty of this group.” Daniel points to the other side of the pool.

Phoenix soon says “We kind of made a bet. And everyone here had a different guess."

“And what bet was that? It seems like I’ve been well targeted now.” Daniel drinks his beer while Payback laughs.

"We wanted to see who would get your attention because they all seem to be a little interested. Which is a problem since there's only one of you."

“I still believe Hangman would take it.” Coyote stood up. “but even I was thinking I could try too."

Payback continued “I wanted to bet on you, but I have to put faith in my Fanboy” He said hitting the side of his WSO who looked down and laughed while laughing to the side. "I think Bob's charm would win this one. It was a certainty.” Bob takes a blushing look at everyone within seconds before crossing and locking eyes with Daniel.

“I-I wouldn’t be so lucky, I hate to admit it but I’m between Hangman and Rooster.”

Rooster protested from the piano: "Don't be intimidated like that Bob, you're a bad guy and we all know your skills inside and outside the fighter. Relax a little too, I confess that I would also join the game but despite everything, it's It's a matter of good taste. It might even be that our friends didn't even look at us like that but in other directions, we're not the only hot aviators in the bar."

"But let's cut this nonsense, since it's here and without judgment based on our bets, who would you take to bed tonight." Hangman sat back with open arms looking around.

“You guys are strangely confident and united, it didn't even occur to you that I just wanted to chat or play with you… But okay. I wanted to just be nice and introduce myself but I'm afraid I've been cornered with a good question." Daniel's gaze still travels around everyone before focusing on Pete and Penny who were laughing at hearing everything nearby, when his gaze met with that of the Admiral.

"Captain-Lieutenant Daniel Lima” Said the Vice Admiral, interjecting into the conversation, subtly silencing the group that widened their eyes. “Thank you for the courtesy earlier, there's no need to salute but I would like to give a proper welcome to Pete's new assistant instructor and show my availability for all your questions, as you were so friendly when you first approached. Thank you again and I am flattered and curious about your joining the squad. Welcome back Bread!”

Everyone watching silently looked at each other while Daniel sighed, slightly nervous due to the pressure he suddenly thought of in that small space. Everyone is feeling mixed emotions when Maverick approaches and raises a toast with the beer.

“A toast to the new company and the new challenges, welcome to Captain Lieutenant Daniel “Bread” Lima, cheers!” and he drank nervously like everyone else.

That's all for this chapter, I'll see you soon, maybe next week ...

So, if have any questions or requests, don't miss the chance. Love you, bye!

[trashlie]

Hiii!

I read your post about i love yoo and i am so impresed by how smart you are that you see all of this details and all hidden symbols in this webtoon, like wow. Thats why i wanted to ask you what kind of books and movies do you like to watch? Do you have any books or authors that you think may helped you be so good at reading through characters mind and their body language so well? Sorry for any English mistakes im still learning :P

Nonny you are too kind, you flatter me, really! <3

Honestly - and this feels embarrassing to admit - I haven't really read books in a LONG time. I went from being a really voracious reader and writer to unchecked ADHD manifesting as depression really wrecking my interest in things and my focus/attention span. I'm slowly trying to get back into it! I finally got myself a library card so I can try digging back in! Part of how I got into webtoons at all is because it was much easier for me to plough my way through those, although funny enough, so many webtoons I read have NOTHING on the subtext present in I Love Yoo so.... lol. Sometimes you just need light reads, you know?

But really, I think a lot of how I read and view ILY came from the community itself. Webtoon.Theory set the bar and so many of the theories we as a community hold on to (The Chess Theory, what it means when characters' eyes are closed, the Yoshi theory/Rand was adopted into the Hirahara family) came from their own analyses and theories, and to be fair, I think a lot of how I now interpret ILY is based heavily in those formations. Would I ever have thought anything of what characters mean when their eyes are closed on my own? Frankly, I doubt it. I read a lot of theories! When I first got REALLY, REALLY deep into ILY, like on the this is on my mind 24/7 obsession level, I had a LOT of time on my hands. Thanks to a user on tumblr, I'd discovered the reddit and that there were deep theories about ILY! At that time I definitely had some thoughts of my own about Yui but I had only recently re-read it so I was till, yknow. Normal about it at the time.

But once I found the sub-reddit I dived in deep! I went through lots of old posts and read them and their comments, taking in theories and applying it to my own interpretations and held on to things I agreed with. I think once you have that kind of "base foundation" it's easy for you to start looking for things, too. I'm a particularly emotional reader, so I think I tune into emotions a LOT - often in lieu of other little details or notes. @youuuimeanmee writes a lot of analyses I wouldn't ordinarily think of myself - like I never considered applying Nol and Shinae's score in DDR to being a signal that he's always a step ahead of her, but when I read that I was like NO WAY THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE!

Talking with the community is really what does it for me! A lot of the times when I get on here to throw together my big "thought dumps/reactions" whatever my posts about the new episodes are lol it's usually after I've been on reddit talking back and forth with people, sharing our ideas and merging them into something far more cohesive than my initial first reactions. I fill in the gaps of my own reactions - oh yeah this little detail I didn't pick up on, oh i interpreted that this way but I like your idea you might be on to something. Sometimes the sheer process of just talking about an episode for a few hours is like.... idk when you marinate meat - the process just brings things to the surface, helps you see things you missed or look at it a new way. And in that process, it means I'm reading and re-reading the episode multiple times. My initial first reaction NEVER has anything on my re-reads because now that you know what's coming you can focus on the other details, take in the expressions and the lighting and what is this body language meant to imply what does this expression look like?

But also - I mean it when I call it the ILY brainrot lmao like it is on my mind ALL the time! I'll be working and it's just there at the back of my mind, me mulling over things. (Lately I've been really fascinated by the way quimchee depicts really emotional moments for Nol by hiding his eyes. SO OFTEN when he is "breaking" we don't see his eyes, just his mouth, and something about that just really STRIKES me. How is it so much more emotional and impactful when we don't see his eyes?! idk but I'm obsessed with that detail lol)

Not to really sell myself out but lmao when I got REALLY deep into ILY and discovered all those theories and peoples' ideas and expectations I did like.... 2 more re-reads? lmaoooooo look I was holed up in bed after surgery with a LOT of time on my hands lol the first reread I did was me just keeping in mind the theories - especially the eyes closed theory - and paying attention to the details, to the body language, to all the things unsaid. You get this a LOT from Kousuke and Rand, I think! And taking these details in helped me reshape how I saw a lot of these characters! The second re-read I did was with emotional blinders - reading all these scenes with Nol and Shinae and with Kousuke and Shinae without any romantic implication and looking for what else it could glean about their characters and their dynamics. Something that confused me for some time was what the Kousuke and Nol face off early in ILY, when they all 3 went to dinner together and they were taking off their jackets meant. So many people wanted to apply a romantic lens to it but that never felt right, but at the time I just didn't understand what else it could be. But as we get to see more into Kousuke and we get glimpses at how deep his paranoia runs, the way he's been comparing himself to Nol - competing with him, to some extent - it starts to make more sense. Of course it never had anything to do with Shinae and instead everything to do with them and the bad blood between them, Kousuke always trying to undermine Nol at every opportunity and always frustrated when Nol defies expectations, etc etc.

I've lost track of how many times I've reread ILY but that's the other thing. Rereads, especially as you learn more in the present story, always help illuminate things! I remember doing a reread and picking up that there was something weird about how Alyssa reacted to Kousuke, showing more interest/concern in him, but once I was thinking about that, I noticed it was even weirder than I'd originally thought, with Yui bringing her up to Kousuke a couple times. As you pick up on things, going back you're able to see the foreshadowing, the foundation laid down, and I think it helps you going forward, because you're becoming more and more familiar with what signs look like, how they get hidden in plain sight, how they apply to what we know about the story so far.

So all that to say - it's not necessarily that the media I take in has prepared me nearly so much as engaging with the community and really consuming the thoughts and ideas of the community was my biggest help! But doing a LOT of re-reads and learning to read into the characters and what they say - or what they don't say - with what we know about them helps, too.

This one is harder to really describe, and I guess it's one of those things that over time you start to pick up as you better understand the characters and their motivations and fears? For instance, when it came to Yui and Kousuke, it had become very clear in that flashback of Kousuke's when he met Nol, that he had been manipulated a LOT in his life - that Yui was soooo deft with her manipulation that it didn't come across looking like what it was. There were still a lot of readers at the time defending her, insisting that she's done everything out of love for him and genuinely trying to do what she thought was best for him. It was hard to try to demonstrate that Yui talking badly about Rand and his affair in Kousuke's hearing range as absolutely a calculated move, that undermining Rand at every turn was calculated to strain the relationship but ALSO make him rely more on her and took advantage of Rand's frequent absence. Things like that! And now we can see plainly that it really was that all along. Even recently she has swapped out the gift Rand gave Kousuke to make him feel like Rand doesn't even try, has twisted words to imply Rand cares more about Nol that he had no time to wait around for Kousuke (despite yknow that whole conversation that had while Kousuke was out being her chasing him out but okay!) and of course, the tea. The drugging.

But yeah, in the end, I think the most important thing is to read other peoples' thoughts and theories - and I don't mean the webtoons comments sections because YIKES ON BIKES lmao - and try to apply it to how you see and interpret things and how could it alter things. Go back and reread scenes and try to examine in them in a different way. What could this scene mean if you remove an romantic expectation? What could this scene mean if you take Kousuke at face value? Actually Kousuke is such a good practice of this because lmao he's a pretty bluntly honest character, but he very OFTEN feels like he's trying to convince himself of things that on a subconscious level aren't so. That whole club arc is just full of it!

One last point I have is that a lot of ILY is written to subvert popular, but bad lol, tropes from other media but especially shoujo manga and boy did I read a lot of that, too. When you know the tropes and the cliches, it's easier to see when it's being subverted. For instance this current arc is bringing to life the "why does my kokoro go dokidoki" cliche of a female lead not being able to identify her romantic feelings for another character and instead just being naive. This is often used to draw out the realization and confessions and has a tendency to get REALLY frustrating because often there's no reason for the misunderstanding! A character will be doing some romantic gesture to her and she'll be like gee golly why do I feel this way? You can see it being subverted with Shinae because a. she has had NO time to process anything that's happened this entire night let alone the shift between her and Nol and b. she lacks not only romantic experience herself but EVEN IN HER LIFE. And knowing that this is a subversion, it leads us to assume that this won't be drawn out and made into some kind of tense mess, and that we can expect to see this resolve much sooner than we might think.

This was also especially true for Kousuke, who was framed very much like the first lead of a romance, where the cold, cruel, rich man secretly has a heart of gold - or discovers a heart of gold - when he comes to meet the plain but bright, unassuming normal girl who somehow gets under his skin. There was a lot of expectation that we'd see that - especially when Kousuke had that moment of kindness and placed his hand over Shinae's to provide her comfort. I think a lot of readers took this as a sign that yes, we are going to see more of Kousuke's soft underbelly - but it was incredibly subverted in that it turns out the asshole with a heart of gold is, in fact, an asshole and lacks the heart of gold, and we watch him crumble slowly over the course of the story, gradually revealing just how truly awful he can be.

Trope subversion of course relies on you having an understanding of popular tropes and cliches and things that get used a plot device rather than to actually improve the writing/characers/story and quimchee does it a LOT, and SOOOO well! This also tangentially leads to being able to pick up on plot devices like foiling and parallels. I feel like parallels are my catnip and I'm ALWAYS pouncing on them when they show up lol. This sounds like so much but again I think it's one of those things where you start to see it once you become aware of it, which once again ties back to digging into the community and sharing our ideas with each other!

I wish I could say that I had read lots of books that had made me better at reading into things but frankly, in school, I was not a super critical reader. I did well, sure, but I was no webtoon.theories breaking ground with theories that shaped the entire way we view the story on a whole lol. I've mostly become a more critical reader as I've gotten older and come to understand people a little better, had more life experiences that gave me better insight to things I may not have understood as well when I was 18 compared to now, haha! I truly mean it when I say I owe it all to the fandom on a whole. If I wasn't constantly interacting with the community and going back and forth with our interpretations and thoughts and ideas I would not have nearly as much insight to share with you guys! <3

(Also do not feel bad about your English, it's good!)

[robinisademon]

I posted 3,553 times in 2022

That's 2,022 more posts than 2021!

11 posts created (0%)

3,542 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@aroacevaljean

@mcrbois

@veshille

@snowy-sniper

@wizardsisananimal

I tagged 2,060 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#mcr - 858 posts

#g - 705 posts

#art - 469 posts

#ofmd - 256 posts

#sandman - 87 posts

#q - 63 posts

#esc22 - 37 posts

#green dress tm art ref time - 35 posts

#jellycat - 34 posts

#les mis - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#but however i have been seeing the trend in university lately that when youre ill the teachers sometimes still exoect you to follow class-

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Blackbeard in art nouveau style, sad edition.

Background inspired by Mucha's "Fox-Land Jamaica Rum" (1897)

Flowers are wild rose, sweet pea, and butterfly weed. All badly drawn at 3 AM.

plus heres a horrendously coloured one! it's muddy and includes really shit bucket fill! enjoy!

See the full post

73 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#4

quick lil draw,, im hfhsfjsfhjakfajkd so not sorry

(based on "Fruit" by Mucha, 1897)

85 notes - Posted April 16, 2022

#3

okay okay this is still a Sketch so dont scream at me i know the face is like a smiley and the arms are different lengths but shhhhhh. the vision is coming together

EDIT this now has a finished version

138 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

#2

Just gonna drop this here...

it's a silly little powerpoint with some outfit images on the slides, sorted by date. not complete, dont come for my throat. working on it though!

Edit 23/09: Completed all shows up to today. Would love feedback on any potential mistakes.

Edit 24/09: it's temporarily down bc onedrive is a bitch. hopefully will be fixed soon! more info on this in the comments of this post.

Edit 25/09: Microsoft. is a fucking. twat. Theyve blocked my account, probably because my powerpoint is seen as spam. Apparently on of their spam policies is "Don’t send content to people you don’t know or to many people at the same time" which is dumb because why do we have a fucking share function then? YeAh pLs sHaRe iT bUT LikE dOnt sHare it ToO mUCh. Bastards. cant have anything fun.

Anyway. I cant get my account back (well, i could but i dont want to give them my phone number), which means its time for the next plan:

Ill replace the link to the powerpoint with a link to a google drive, and I'll upload new versions of the powerpoint on there. Sadly all previous reblogs will keep the wrong link so i really hope they will see this message. Ill also put it in the comment section to make that a little more likely. I might also make a brand new post, additionally to this one.

Sorry for all the inconveniences and i hope we can share a little joy in a new way. fingers crossed.

317 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Alright. I'm just gonna quit painting and post this before I go insane. You can scream at me now.

References:

Background design and colours heavily based on "La Dame aux camélias", Mucha (1896).

Flowers in the background are lily (yellow), honeysuckle (really badly drawn), and thyme (didnt even bother to draw the shape right).

Pose based on "Médéé", Mucha (1898), especially the arms hands and knife situation.

Character is from Our Flag Means Death (2022). Obviously.

1,172 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @infestedslime and they have accepted the prize!

For transparency, the original winner was @civicrose but it had been done out of only 20 entries because I had forgotten to record @zero-two-one 's entry into the spreadsheet and only realized the following morning. The new roll was done out of the actual 21 entries, I'm extremely sorry for the confusion from this bad mistake!!

Roll proof:

The full entry spreadsheet can be found here! (it's also buried below the cut somewhere but I thought I should put it up here too lol)

Just like last time I'm super happy with how this event has turned out!! Thanks again to everyone who entered and made this a fun time!! Again, I am very sorry for messing up the entry records for the initial rolling.

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

PROTEA PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY! *

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of any warframe playing a sport!

Giveaway entries will close and the winner will be randomly chosen on May 25TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here!

More info under the cut, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER!

(rules are the same as the gauss prime access giveaway I did back in February, just a slightly different art prompt! You can find that giveaway post here for reference)

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, art quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (not including unedited captura/game screenshots)

Please submit your own art!! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to make a fun little gallery of warframe art in the reblogs, but don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (You can find previous giveaway galleries here!)

You do not need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with art loosely following the prompt! The only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option!

If you have any feedback about the giveaway please let me know!

Here are some example submissions that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make doesn't have to be limited to this!

I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. (Edit: you can find the spreadsheet with info on each entry here!) After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 24 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without the giveaway text:

Trailer scene reference:

Good luck and most importantly have fun!! :)

[yourstruleejn]

strawberries & cigarettes

na jaemin hates strawberries. you hate cigarettes. opposites attract?

⋆

pairing // na jaemin x fem! reader; other characters are nct dream + yeji ryujin and chaeryoung of itzy!

genre // fluff; maybe a little crack idk i think i’m funny; high school au! strangers-to-lovers-ish (?); barely any plot so be prepared.

word count // 12.5k

tw // sexual innuendos; smoking (and disease caused by it but in a joking manner (?) none of the characters get sick) + underage drinking

playlist // here

authors note // this is the first fic that i am posting on tumblr hehe. honestly i had so much fun writing this so i hope you have some too while reading this! hopefully i’ll be posting more in the future! just a side note, i’m not entirely sure if the ages of the characters make sense but just imagine them all in high school! anyways, please enjoy!! (also i’m sorry if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language!)

! reminder ! everything i write about on here is entirely fictional and in no way am i saying this is how the boys would act in real life ❥

i.               new friends and nice scents

“Are you sure it’s okay that I come?” Starting a new school was always terrifying, no matter how often you had gone through the process: Finding new friends, joining new clubs, getting to know the teachers and their expectations were all things you were fairly familiar with. So why were you this nervous? It wasn’t even the first day of school, only some senior party your neighbor had invited you to, “Maybe I should just stay home, meet everyone on Monday. I really don’t want to impose. Besides, I’m going to stand out even more this way.”

The boy in front of you rolled his eyes lovingly, “Nonsense. Of course, you’re coming and of course it’s okay.” Chenle said reassuringly.

He lived down the street and was so far the only kid your age you knew. For now, anyways. From day one he was really welcoming, to the extent that he kind of gave you hope that this year would not be as hard as you had anticipated, since you had at least him as friend. “I asked Jeno if I could bring a friend, he said yes, so don’t worry.” One look at you and he knew that you weren’t really convinced so he laughed “Oh come on, my friends are really nice, and I mean, you won me over so I’m sure they’re going to love you!”

With one last reassuring smile Chenle grabbed your hand and dragged you out of your house. As you breathed in the cool evening air you were once again reminded that summer was in fact coming to an end. For a moment you contemplated going back inside for a jacket and just not coming out again, but Chenle was right: There was one major difference to all of the other schools you transferred to: You had already made one friend. With that in mind, you made your way to Chenle’s friend’s house, determined to make some more.

-

As soon as you arrived at Jeno’s house you noticed the absence of people, wasn’t this supposed to be a party? However, you decided to not voice your thoughts and just go with it, maybe it was just some sort of hangout, which meant less pressure on you.

“You coming?” Chenle asked as he opened the door, so you quickly hurried in behind him. “The others will arrive soon, I think” he smiled as he led you into the living room, clearly feeling very at home at his friend’s house, he smirked at you “In the meantime, meet the gang!” As soon as his voice rung through the room, five heads turned your way.

“Uhh… hi” you smiled awkwardly, earning a few chuckles from the boys, which made a rush of heat go up to your cheeks. Chenle smiled like a proud parent and was about to continue introducing you to everyone, when one of them got up to greet you. You noticed he had one of those really nice smiles that took over the whole face, and especially his eyes seemed affected by the up turning of his mouth.

“Hi, I’m Jeno. I’m glad you could come, Lele keeps talking about his new cute neighbor.”

You laughed at that, “Thank you for having me! Chenle does talk about you guys, like, nonstop.” Chenle scoffed at both of your statements but didn’t say anything because he knew that they were true.

“Hi, uhm, I’m really sorry to ask this but,” a tall boy suddenly spoke, “what was your name again?”

Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ realizing that in fact you hadn’t really introduced yourself, “Don’t worry about it! It’s Y/N” you smiled at him.

“Jisung, you’re really something! How could you forget her name when Chenle has been talking about her for the past week!” One of them laughed. You remembered him as Donghyuck, having met him once for about a second when Chenle first came to greet your family and welcome them to the neighborhood. He shouted for Chenle to hurry up as the younger boy handed you a plate stacked with cookies, reciting his mom’s obligatory message, and then inviting you to ‘hang’ later. That was the start of your new-found friendship, and the fact that Donghyuck was there to witness that made you feel a little bit closer to him as well. At least compared to the others, who you had never seen before.

You laughed again while Chenle reassured you that he had not been only talking about you for the past week while furiously blushing. You told him not to worry about it and were introduced to rest of the group: Jeno and Hyuck you knew now, and Jisung as well. You learned that the other’s names were Renjun and Mark. Additionally, to these six boys was a seventh, his name was Jaemin, but he only got back from vacation today, so they told you he’d be coming by a little later.

 As the evening progressed into early night, people started to flood the house. Looking back now it seemed silly to worry about standing out. And even though a few people recognized you as someone they didn’t know, they simply approached and introduced themselves. That resulted in you getting to know quite a few people who would be in your class. Ryujin was one of them: she was a pretty bubbly girl and she decided as soon as she saw you that she was going to “adopt” you. The choice of words made you laugh, because Chenle had said similar ones the first time you got to actually hang out. Ryujin blushed a deep red when you told her that story which in turn made you chuckle as you assessed hers and Chenle’s relationship anew.

Soon Ryujin introduced you to her friends, a group of girls who all welcomed you. You were thankful to have also found some girlfriends. Obviously, you were really grateful for Chenle but having found a group of girlfriends as well just made you really happy. The buzz of the strawberry wine you drank made conversation easy and you were happy that you tagged along.

Ryujin had her arm thrown around you, “Y/N you smell really nice.”

You looked up at her and chuckled “Thanks?” you said, unsure of how to react.

The others burst out laughing, the alcohol lowering the comedy level by a few ranks.

“I’m being serious!” Ryujin argued, “She smells like fresh strawberries! Here, Chae, you smell her!” Ryujin really tried to defend her statement and get Chaeryoung to smell your hair, but you all just laughed, resulting in her pouting, and muttering to herself that you really did smell like fresh strawberries.

Soon after this, your phone buzzed, and you realized that it was way past your unofficial curfew, which was probably the reason your mom called. You and your parents had some unspoken agreement that they did not really ask where you were going and what you were doing as long as you were home by midnight. You sighed and glanced at your screen, getting up to take the call, but not before Ryujin had a glance at your screen and said, very loudly “Boo Y/N’s Mom!” You laughed but shushed her as you made your way out front.

“Hi Mom” you said, only realizing the level of your tipsiness now, that you were trying to sound as sober as possible. Thankfully, it was a quick conversation; she didn’t sound mad, rather relieved that you were finding friends and enjoying yourself but still, she told you to make your way home soon. You agreed but still sighed as you hung up, slightly disappointed that your mom cut the evening short.

The cold night air sobered you a little up, still you tried to make a mental note to drink a glass of water before you left to go home. There was a small smile hanging from your lips as you stared at the clear starry night. Today had been a good day, you truly were content. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice a tall figure standing right next to you until he cleared his throat.

You jumped slightly at the sudden company. And judging by the amused look on his face, you must’ve looked pretty startled too.

“See something interesting up there?” he asked, a cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth, a smirk from the other.

You suddenly felt shy in front of this handsome stranger. Flustered by his intense eye contact you didn’t get anything but a quiet “Uhhh…” past your lips.

He smiled at your efforts to form a sentence, “Do you have a lighter?” he asked pointing to the cigarette.

“No, I don’t.” you said facing the sky once more, the buzz of the wine you had consumed clouding your mind once again “I don’t like the smell of them.” You stated matter-of-factly.

“Of what? Lighters?” he asked amused.

“No,” you turned your head to face him once more, “cigarettes. They smell like lung cancer.”

He scoffed at your sudden change of demeanor. Just moments ago, you jumped at his presence but now you were lecturing about smoking. He shook his head slightly, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and sticking it behind his ear, “Well, I don’t like the smell of strawberries” he cocked his head at you, “and you reek of them.”

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed at this statement, “Excuse me?” you asked ever so slightly agitated.

“Don’t take it to heart, sweetie. I just don’t like strawberries, and you smell like an entire strawberry field.” he smirked, “Bet you taste like them too.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t ‘sweetie’ me! And strawberries are a perfectly fine scent to smell like. At least I don’t smell like cigarettes and death.” And with that you turned on your heel and made your way back inside, determined to not look back and leave cigarette boy in the past.

You made your way towards the girls first saying your goodbyes and assuring them that you will text them once you get home.

“Hey Y/N!” Ryujin called after you, “Lets get Boba tomorrow, all right?”

You smiled and gave her a quick thumbs up before getting back to finding Chenle. As it turned out, finding your friend in this sea of people was not as easy as you had hoped. And in the end, Chenle found you.

“Y/NNNNNN!” You turned around and almost immediately arms were flung around you. You laughed. “Ryujin told me you were leaving!”

“I am.”

At your confirmation he pouted, “But it is only like…” he checked his watch, “one a.m.”

“Sorry buddy, my mom already called earlier, I really gotta get going.” You smiled at your drunk neighbor who only sighed and nodded.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled, “Sure if you don’t have the worst hangover ever.” He shrugged off the mere possibility of having one and hugged you goodbye. “Say bye to the others for me, yeah?”

“Will do, see you tomorrow” he waved as you made your way to the front door.

-

Unbeknownst to you, there was a pair of eyes watching you intensely, “Hey Jeno” he turned to his friend, “Who’s the girl Chenle was just hugging?”

“Hm?” Jeno looked up and saw you leave, “Oh, that’s Y/N, Lele’s new neighbor. She’s really nice, Chenle introduced us earlier. I thought he would have introduced you too by now, but I guess he forgot.” Jeno smiled as he patted his friend’s back, “She’s pretty, right?” he stated more than ask, analyzing his friends gaze towards you.

“Sure is.” Jaemin smirked.

Jeno laughed, “Don’t worry, Jaemin, I’m sure you’ll meet her officially on Monday. She’s in our literature class you know.”

Jaemin smiled, suddenly excited about the prospect of Austen and Bronte.

 ii.              maybe a cherry shampoo instead?

Jaemin had always hated strawberries. Their scent just as much as their taste. Everyone knew that, he made sure everyone knew that. In fact, he emphasized his distaste for them so much, that it had become somewhat of a joke between him and his friends. So naturally, he associated strawberries with things he didn’t like; for example, the first love letter he had ever received was strawberry scented. It’s not like Jaemin didn’t like love letters, but he didn’t like hurting people and thus far, he had to reject a lot of girls. And it’s not like Jaemin rejected the girl because of the strawberry scented paper, but it sure didn’t help her cause. So, all of this resulted in Jaemin being known as a notorious heart breaker with a general “bad boy” attitude. (Which again, made his friends laugh hysterically more than once, because Jaemin was a lot of things, but a bad boy was not one of them)

Needless to say, Jaemin was always happy when summer was over and with that, strawberry season. However, after last night, he was almost worried, yet weirdly excited, that strawberries were out to get him for the rest of the year as well.

A small smile crept its way to his face, at the thought of you. No matter how blurry the rest of last night was, he had a clear image of the then unknown girl staring at the night sky. As well as the bickering, never once in his life had a stranger lectured him about smoking. He shook his head, smiling to himself. But all good things have to end so, at last, the thought of you brought the thought of strawberries, which finally made the corners of his mouth turn downwards and his nose scrunch up in distaste.

“What’s gotten you into mood swings?” Donghyuck chuckled. The gang had gotten together to get the traditional Sunday-before-school-Boba as well as just trying to fight their hangovers.

Jaemin hadn’t realized that somebody had been watching him, he would’ve been more careful with his facial expressions if he had. He sighed and decided to just shrug it off.

“What do you mean?” Chenle asked while slurping his drink.

All eyes were on Jaemin now, who went through with his plan, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Pf. Come one, Nana, you went from being all smiley to looking like somebody placed a piece of strawberry pie in front of you.”

He had to laugh at the accurate example given by his friend, “No it was nothing like that. I guess I was just lost in thought.” He vaguely explained, deciding to keep his encounter with you to himself.

Eventually, after a lot of teasing and making up absurd theories, his friends continued their conversation. Jaemin joined in for a bit before deciding to go have a smoke. He fished the pack out of his pocket only to realize he was all out of cigarettes. He sighed, “I gotta go get a pack of these bad boys,” he held up the empty package, “I’ll be right back.”

This earnt some disapproving looks, especially from the younger boys of the group but Jaemin just threw his innocent smile at them while patting Jisung’s head. “Don’t go anywhere.” One last smile at his friends and with that he was out the door.

 -

Only a few moments after Jaemin left to get cigarettes, you and Ryujin walked into the shop laughing and looking considerably better than the boys.

“Hey, there’s Ryujin! And Chenle’s neighbor, what’s her name again?” Jisung asked, feeling a little embarrassed that he had forgotten again.

Mark laughed and was about to answer when Chenle shouted your name across the whole café. Your head turned instantly, and you chuckled at his enthusiasm. You waved at him and motioned that you and Ryujin would get your drinks first and then come over.

“Man, Jaemin isn’t here again.” Jeno noted. The others looked at him a little confused and he explained that Jaemin had asked him about Y/N yesterday.

“Oh well, we’ll introduce them tomorrow, or maybe Ryujin and Y/N would like to stay for a while…” Chenle’s sentence was cut short when he saw the two girls approach with three to-go cups. He still decided to ask them if they wanted to join but Ryujin was quick to decline.

“We’re meeting Yeji at school. Y/N gets the tour early so she can start tomorrow with a bit of orientation on campus.” She explained, “but thanks for the invite.”

Lele was not having it though, “But it’s Sunday! How are you gonna get into the school?” he asked, not believing that anyone would even be at school, on a Sunday.

“That’s what Yeji’s for, Zhong. You know, she’s student council president.” Ryujin stated matter-of-factly, “and besides, teachers have been working on the preparations for the new semester for a week now.”

Ignoring their back and forth, you noticed that the seventh member of Chenle’s friend group was missing again and wondered whether or not you had met him yesterday and forgotten. No, you really didn’t drink that much, and if you had met him you would remember. You definitely didn’t recall anyone introducing themselves as “Jaemin”.

You guys chatted a bit, but after a few minutes you got a text that Yeji was waiting for you at the entrance, so you said your ‘see you tomorrows’ and left the shop.

-

“It’s actually a good thing Jaemin wasn’t there.” Renjun noted.

Chenle frowned, ready to defend you, would one of his friends complain about you. He cocked his head and leaned forward, “And why’s that?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Cut the attitude Lele,” he continued, “Y/N just smelled of strawberries. That would not make a good first impression on Jaemin now, would it?”

“I think she smells very nice!” he said, which made almost everyone chuckle on the table.

“Yes, but Jaemin probably doesn’t think so. She even had a strawberry drink; did you guys see?” Mark noted, chuckling at your apparent love for the fruit.  

“I mean, I never noticed before, but thinking about it, Y/N really does smell a little like strawberries…” Chenle seemed lost in thought. Was this going to be a problem when introducing you to Jaemin, “You guys don’t think I should suggest changing her shampoo, should I?” he asked, a little too serious for it to be a joke.

Now everyone burst out laughing, Chenle joined in as well, even though, in his mind, it was not as hilarious an idea than it seemed to be to the others; It would make introducing them a little bit easier, and surely Y/N would understand.

“Chenle, no. I don’t think that’s a smart idea.” Renjun said, “Maybe give Nana a heads up before so he can control his facial expressions when they first talk, though.”

“Is it really that strong? Or are we just hyper-aware of the smell of strawberries so our Nana doesn’t have to suffer unnecessarily.” Chenle voiced his thoughts.

“It’s only a bad thing to Na Jaemin.” Hyuck smiled at him, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “but you could always gift her a cherry-perfume! We all know Jaemin likes popping those!”

“Inappropriate, Donghyuck! There’s children at the table!” Marks eyes went wide at the comment. It didn’t take long until everyone laughed again, though.

-

Jaemin stopped at door of the shop and turned his head towards the end of the street. Sure enough, he saw you and Shin Ryujin making your way towards the school. Maybe it was some kind of placebo effect, having just seen you, but he could’ve sworn he smelt a hint of strawberry in the late summer air. To his surprise he caught himself smiling; This was the first time he didn’t immediately associate strawberries with the feeling of dislike, but curiosity. Was this the beginning of associating them with you? The thought of you made his heart speed up a little, he entered the shop smiling and for the second time in 24 hours, he thought that this was going to be an interesting year, and he was looking forward to that.

 iii.            strawberry vampire

Any other morning you’d be more than unwilling to get out of bed any second earlier than you actually had to, but for some reason, today, you rose before the sun. Maybe it was the nerves, although you were more looking forward to seeing Ryujin and the girls again than actually nervous to meet the rest of the class. Having enough time on your hands, you didn’t rush your morning routine; a long, nice shower was on the schedule as well as comfortable breakfast with your parents.

After you got all of your things packed and ready you checked your phone. Chenle had let you know the night before that he could drive you to school, which you happily accepted, not being a too confident driver yourself. The thought of bumping into another car while trying to park on your first day gave you shudders. Generally, you didn’t consider yourself to be a bad driver, it’s just your brain tended to stop when you had to go backwards.

Chenle: We’re leaving in five minutes, loser

Y/N: Geez, thank you for being so nice to me on my first day.

Chenle: ha ha sorry I thought I was texting Jisung. It’s two minutes for you dummy <3

You chuckled at the text and said bye to your parents. Maybe now, you were a little nervous. However, you didn’t have enough time to process the exhilaration of your heartrate properly. You quickly crossed the street to get to Chenle’s driveway. He was already waiting for you and gave you a look of disapproval.

“What? I’m on time! It’s only been like a minute and a half!” You tried to defend yourself.

“It’s not that. You look too good. Now you’ll be disappointing everyone for the rest of the year, Y/N. You can’t look your best on your first day!” Chenle sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose, as if this was general knowledge.

You scoffed, “I’ll let you know that this is my usual appearance. Thank you very much, I shall not disappoint anyone.”

Both of you got into the car. Chenle, now, couldn’t help but notice the faint smell of strawberries again and smiled a little to himself, he really did need to warn Jaemin. The conversation was light, Chenle told you of all of the clubs you could join and who’s in which club out of his friend group. You told him you were thinking of joining the art club and he explained that Renjun was the president so you shouldn’t have any problems getting in.

“Do you have to go get your schedule?” Chenle asked.

You shook your head, “No, I got it yesterday. But I’ll drop by the student council meeting room to go get Ryujin and Chae. They just said they’re waiting for me there.” You smiled at your friend, and he nodded along.

-

Chenle dropped you off in front of the main entrance since it was closest to the stuco-room. You thanked him and made your way into the building. Once you entered it was an expected routine for you; As always as a new student, you got a few stares and heard a few whispers; ‘Oh, is that a new student?’ ‘Who is she?’ and such phrases are all comments you are fairly familiar with. It did good to see a few familiar faces though, since you knew a few people from the party on Saturday.

You found the meeting room and peeked inside. You grinned as you saw Ryujin and Chaeryoung bickering by Yeji who already looked somewhat annoyed.

“Hi” you greeted your new friends.

“Oh, Hi Y/N, you’re finally here!” Yeji smiled.

“Am I late?” you asked a little worried you had been an inconvenience of some sort.

“No don’t worry, Yeji just wants you to fill out the form for the art club since you’re already here.” Chaeryoung reassured you smiling, “That is, if you still like to join?”

Ryujin must’ve told the girls of your plans on joining the club, so you smiled and just nodded, “Yea sure!”

You took the form from Yeji and started to fill it in. Every now and then the girls helped you with general Information, such as who your homeroom teacher was and so on. There was barely any silence, but if in an unlikely moment one did arise, it was filled with the girls gossiping about people who you mostly didn’t know. It made you smile to yourself, the friendship they had, you were grateful to have been welcomed so warmly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the three of them hadn’t seen each other all summer. Soon enough the bell rung, signaling only 15 minutes until the first period started.

You made your way to your classroom. First period of the first day, meant all of you had homeroom together. It was nice out, so the windows were opened, and a slight breeze swept through the hallways. You had noticed that the school was fairly small, and you suspected it was a everyone-knows-everyone kind of structure here. Despite the slightly outdated social system, the building was modern with high ceilings and a generally clean look. It seemed close to an ideal learning environment, and that’s also why, you believed, your parents wanted you to go here. So far, you liked the ambience, but that probably was due to your newfound friends and not necessarily because of the clean look of the building.

Ryujin was just joking about how your homeroom teacher was a very chaotic woman who will probably forget to introduce you to the rest of the class, when you noticed cigarette boy standing by the lockers outside of your classroom. He was chatting with two girls who looked a little younger, so you assumed they were a grade or two below. Ignoring him would be the easiest, thinking the chances that he remembers you are slim to none anyways, and you would be officially introduced at some point. It would’ve gone smoothly with him not even noticing you going in his direction but as you continued to go towards the classroom, a gust of wind swept through the hallway; goosebumps appeared on your arms and the boy’s eyes landed on you.

Jaemin tried, he really did, but as soon as he smelt the scent of your strawberry shampoo, or whatever it was that makes you smell so much like them (not that he knew or that he thought a lot about it), his hand went up to his nose to stop the smell from advancing further into his body. Simultaneously, his head turned towards you and his eyes seemed to somewhat soften. You looked really good today. Seeing you in the school uniform, his school’s uniform, was something he didn’t think he had to prepare for.

His reaction to your smell (apparently?) made you blush, and you hurried into the classroom even faster than before. You were a little embarrassed as well as lost having entered the classroom in such a hurried manner. You didn’t really know where to sit, so in you flustered state Ryujin pulled you towards what was now your seat.

“Did Na Jaemin just Edward Cullen you?” she seemed shocked, but at the same time amused. And so did Chae and Yeji, apparently.

“I’m sorry but he what?” you asked perplexed as you weren’t entirely sure what she was talking about, “and that is Na Jaemin?” you registered her calling the boy Na Jaemin a little belated. Dramatic as you were you let a hand cover your mouth as you processed this newfound information. So, you had met Jaemin before…

Ryujin, however, only registered Y/N’s first question, “You know, from Twilight? When he smells Bella because of the fan? Really Y/N it’s a classic!” she said, again a little shocked.

“I know what Twilight is!”, you defended yourself while still trying to get back to a fairly normal, un-flustered state.

Chaeryoung was the next one to speak, “Wait! Ryu, you said that Y/N smelt like strawberries when we first met her, right?”

“Uh, did I?” she said, unsure. In hindsight, she had to admit that she had one too many glasses of wine that evening, but you and Yeji confirmed Chae’s question by nodding.

“We all know Jaemin hates strawberries-” Chae started.

“With a passion!” Yeji chimed in, making all of you chuckle.

“Maybe he just has a really good sense of smell. And since he dislikes them so much, he reacted the way he did.” She explained further.

“I mean, it’s possible. Or maybe Y/N just smells!” Ryujin practically shouted across the classroom.

“Hey! I do not smell!” you chuckled nervously, looking around if all of your classmates were looking at you, but to your relief, barely anyone was paying attention to you, “But I did have a conversation about smoking with him, in which I did point out how smoking is bad.”

“With whom? Jaemin?” Chaeryoung asked.

“Yea,” you confirmed, “and he also said that he disliked strawberries, but I took that more as a way of teasing me than him actually not liking them.” You pouted a little, “Maybe he’s just sensitive.” Dropping your head onto your desk you sighed.

“Who’s sensitive?” Chenle said making his entrance to the conversation. He sat down a desk further from Ryujin and smiled at her.

“Na Jaemin.” Yeji patted your back and Chae gave you a sympathizing look.

“You already met him?” Chenle seemed to be in mild panic.

When you didn’t answer right away Ryujin decided to fill him in on what had happened. Yeji had to chime in every now and then when the story got a little too dramatic, but Chenle got the gist of it.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I should’ve warned Jaemin.”

“Why? Do I really smell of strawberries too much? Is it a bother to you guys too?” You had really never thought that that would be a problem or would even be pointed out in a negative way.

“No, it’s Jaemin’s problem Y/N. Not yours, you smell lovely to us. Just the perfect amount of strawberry!” Chae smiled at you, and you felt somewhat better. It’s not like it bothered you that he didn’t like the way you smelled. Hell, he probably smelled like cigarette smoke but the whole situation was mildly embarrassing on your part, especially because you were the new girl. So, you decided then and there that you did not particularly like Na Jaemin, even if he did look a bit handsome standing in that hallway. 

Soon enough the bell rung, your first period officially started, and you thanked the fates that Na Jaemin sat on the opposite side of the classroom. 

 iv.            all out of strawberry shampoo

The rest of the day went considerably better. You had literally all of your classes with at least one person you knew. Especially chemistry with Chenle was fun, which you really didn’t expect since any type of science wasn’t your cup of tea.

It did take a little bit of reassuring and one or two pep-talks but when lunch rolled around the incident with Jaemin was more or less forgotten; You decided not to let the first few minutes of today define the rest of it. Plus, you weren’t even sure if anyone else had observed what had happened.

You made your way outside to have lunch in the yard and soak up of what would probably be the last rays of summer sun. Chenle had invited you along to further introduce you to his friends, but really it was just an excuse to spend time with you, since you, according to him, were stolen by Ryujin. You had just laughed and agreed to eat lunch with the boys for today.

“So how do you like it here Y/N?” Mark asked, before taking a rather big bite out of his sandwich.

“It’s really nice so far,” you smiled, “Can’t complain.”

You would even say, despite of your little encounter in the morning, it was almost too smooth a sail. You really didn’t want to jinx it though, but as it turned out you sort of, kind of already had; someone plopped down on the grass next to you, not only startling once again, but also triggering an eye roll as soon as you figured out who it was, who disturbed your peaceful lunch.

Jaemin smirked and held out his hand for you to shake, “Na Jaemin, I believe we haven’t met.”

You almost laughed at him, “Oh, we’ve met plenty, I think.” You turned slightly away from him, and he let out a soft sigh in return. Being rejected like this was not a field he had a lot of experience in.

The others probably noticed Jaemin’s arrival but didn’t really react to it, they just kept their conversation going, aiding you in avoiding one with Jaemin. It seemed a little funny to you, that they didn’t greet him at all, but you figured maybe they were used to it; after all, smokers did get up randomly to suck in some nicotine every now and then. The thought whether or not this was a “planned” introduction made its way into your head and judging by Chenle’s reaction in the morning it was possible that he had planned on introducing you two at lunch. Whatever the reason for Jaemin’s surprise visit was, you were glad you found a rather easy way out. It was hard enough not to focus on the close proximity of his body; If he disliked the scent of strawberries, and with that the scent of you, so much, why did he have to sit so close to you?

Jaemin on the other hand didn’t mind you turning away from him. It made it easier to look at you without you knowing. He was quite observant; memorizing the way your hair swished with your movement. He also noticed how the smell of strawberries got fainter and fainter as the day went on, or maybe he just got used to it? They did learn about something like sensory integration in psychology, right? Strawberry smell or no strawberry smell, he still found himself intrigued by you; the whole day he kept catching himself looking at you, and he noticed he wasn’t the only one; Many of your classmates stole glances at you, you were after all the shiny new toy. Not that he thought you were an object, it was just not every day such a pretty girl as yourself transferred into their school.

“Why’d you change schools?” Jaemin asked out of the blue making everyone’s head turn to you.

You were surprised by this sudden question, not expecting him to talk to you at all. But then again, you also would’ve never expected him to sit this close to you.

“Oh, well, my mom’s job is the short answer.” You shrugged.

“And the long one?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Is still the same, just a bit more elaborated.” You smiled innocently at him, not really interested to divulge into your mom’s job as a ‘travelling-professor’, having explained the concept a few times already. Besides, why would he even want to know stuff about you? It didn’t seem like he particularly liked you, or at least he didn’t come off as overly welcoming this morning.

Not fazed by your short answer Jaemin smirked to himself before meeting your eyes, “I’m just going to assume they were all out of strawberry shampoo at your old residence and that’s why you had to move” He smiled, hoping to get a laugh out of you and the others. He succeeded, partially; the others did laugh, and you almost did too for a second before stopping yourself. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, so you just sighed, shook your head, and looked away. Jaemin caught your little slip-up, so it was too late, he felt somewhat of a triumph seeing you hold back your laughter.

It wasn’t enough for him, though. He wanted more of a reaction out of you, so he did the one thing he knew, would irk you: he took out a cigarette and lit it. Oh, how right he was. You looked at him with such distaste, this time, he had to laugh; How could such a pretty face produce such an expression?

“Careful there, sweetie, or else that look will be permanent. That would be such a waste, you know.” He chuckled as he placed the cigarette between his lips.

Jaemin thought he saw the slightest tint of red make its way onto your cheeks, but your flustered state didn’t last long, “I told you not to ‘sweetie’ me,” you glared at him and got up from your spot.

Just as Jaemin thought he had shooed you away with his teasing, you turned around smirked and said, “You know what Na Jaemin? You might look a little more handsome and a little less stupid if there wasn’t cigarette smoke blocking everyone’s view all of the time.” And with that you made your way back to the main building.

“You think I’m handsome?” he shouted after you, the heads of the others who hadn’t noticed you were leaving turned towards you and then Jaemin.

“Shut up!” you shouted, not even turning back to look at him.

Jaemin smiled from ear to ear, nudged Chenle who was now beside him, and wiggled his eyebrows “She thinks I’m handsome.”

“Yeah, sure buddy.” Chenle replied laughing along with the others.

 v.              a wall of strawberries between us

As the semester progressed, you saw the sun less and less and clouds more and more. The chilly wind of autumn was now the means of transportation for your strawberry agenda. Jaemin found himself more often than not almost expecting your presence as soon as he smelt strawberries of any kind. It seemed as though he was looking for you almost everywhere he went, and if he didn’t see you and came to realize he was just walking by a bakery or a cafe, he felt somewhat disappointed. He didn’t really know why the lack of you bothered him so much. Maybe it was because you gave him little to no attention besides the occasional disapproving look every time you saw him smoking outside of school. Maybe it also bothered him because he was the only one out of his friend group you weren’t close with. He was the only one you didn’t make any effort with, and for some reason the thought that this was his fault bothered him more than anything else.

Of course, over the first couple of weeks of school he kept teasing you, but he made sure to only do it in a friendly manner, and he only ever joked about you and your love for strawberries. In all truth, Jaemin wasn’t really sure what else to talk to you about. He was very careful as to not overstep any boundaries, and he also made sure to throw in a nice compliment every now and then. He thought he was doing okay with befriending you, but your relationship never progressed any further than whatever state this was. He even asked Chenle if he had hurt your feelings at some point, but he said you hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort to him so he shouldn’t worry too much, and that you’ll come around eventually.

The colder it got, the colder you seemed towards him. So, he stopped the teasing all together, maybe that was the way to win you friendship? Jaemin soon realized that that just resulted in you talking even less to him, and definitely only when necessary. So, while the others got to know you for the considerate and caring sweetheart that you were, Jaemin only got to know filtered version, that was only present when he was too.

You, on the other hand, were only trying to be as little a bother to him as possible. At the beginning of the semester, you had taken the teasing and complaining about your strawberry scent as a joke and reciprocated the energy and just teased him back, however, the longer school was going on, the more you thought that you might actually be a bother to him. And if that were the case, he had little to no possibility of avoiding you; You were friends with all of his friends. This could also be the reason he didn’t outright tell you that it was bothering him a lot. Maybe he had been trying to bring across the message in a civil manner, and you were just too daft to get it. Should you change your shampoo? Or would that be like giving in? As much as you didn’t want to be an inconvenience to Jaemin, you also didn’t want to let him win. Not that there was anything to win per se, but you know.

When you asked Mark about it, he just laughed, and said that Jaemin just really dislikes strawberries; Apparently to extent that he feels sick when eating them. That statement of course, only confirmed your theory. So, you decided that it would probably be best to just distance yourself from him as best you can, while still remaining friends with the whole group. It was a process, but Jaemin seemed to not even really notice. You were glad that he didn’t seem bothered by you anymore even though you had to admit that you started to miss him. When did that happen?

Another thing you noticed over the course of the past weeks was that Jaemin, did in fact get a lot of love letters and confessions of other sort. More than once, you witnessed girls of all grades go up to the boy and give him small gifts while blushing furiously. You could never look away, always anticipating Jaemin’s answer, observing how he acted. Generally, you would say he let them down slowly, but most of these encounters ended in tears. You too felt a heaviness on your heart whenever someone confessed to Jaemin, surely you just felt for the girls, right? The relief you felt each time he rejected them was more than enough evidence of the contrary, however you weren’t ready to accept that just yet. Accepting that you did in fact have a crush on Jaemin would also mean that you had to acknowledge the fact that a wall of strawberries was between you and him, and you suspected both of you were too proud to tear it down.

Of course, Yeji had noticed your stares in the hallways, and she was pretty sure so had Jaemin. You had a talent of looking away exactly one moment before he turned his gaze on you, which, by the way, always found you when you were around. When Yeji mentioned this to Ryujin and Chae, they were more than willing to help you with Jaemin, in fact they were almost too excited about it. However, Yeji was strictly against meddling. Besides, at that point her theory was based on mere observations, and she thought they had to at least confirm them with you or Jaemin before interfering. With that the others had to agree. They decided to stay out of it for now.

vi.            make sure she comes

Spooky season rolled around and that meant two things; First, there were a few days off of school and everyone was looking forward to a bit of relaxation. Second, there were going to be Halloween parties. Ryujin had made it clear that the girls had to go for a group costume. Which was the current topic of the free period.

“Come on guys! It would be so much fun!” she had been brainstorming ideas all day, it was not too easy to coordinate since Yeji wasn’t really sure she wanted to dress up at all.

“I don’t mind anything as long as I don’t have to buy new clothes for it.” Chaeryoung noted, making sure Ryujin heard, since her latest suggestions of Hogwarts students would include new cloaks for everyone.

You just laughed along, although you were starting to wonder whose party it even was, you apparently were going to attend, “Whose party is it anyways?” you casually asked into the group.

They all exchanged glances, making you a little suspicious.

Yeji gulped, “Promise you’ll come no matter what?”

“If you ask me that way, I’m not sure…” you looked at her skeptically, “So, whose party is it?” In truth, you knew whose party it had to be in order for them to react that way. You weren’t completely oblivious; you knew that the girls noticed that something had been off. You just hoped that they hadn’t caught on with your crush on Jaemin.

There was a collective sigh from the three girls just before Yeji said, “It’s Jaemin’s.”

Your eyes fell, “Oh,” You said clearly quieter than before, “In that case… Guys I’m really not too sure if I can come. I mean, I haven’t even been invited!”

“Neither have we!” Ryujin assured, “The boys only give out the invitations a few days before, and Y/N, seriously, why would you even think that he wouldn’t invite you?”

“We aren’t exactly friends now, are we?” You sighed. The others told you that there was no way you wouldn’t be invited even if Jaemin didn’t want you there, Chenle wouldn’t let you miss out on the yearly Halloween party, it was their tradition and all of them wanted you to be part of them from now on.

-

Jaemin had noticed you looking at him more and more recently (although it could be just a reaction to him looking at you) so he decided to invite you personally to the party. He was excited to see you in a costume, he wondered if your costume was going to be bold (translate: tiny). He laughed at the thought of you dressed up as a strawberry and wondered whether or not he should dress up as a cigarette just to irk you. That would be your own version of Romeo and Juliet. He smiled. All this pining and for what?

Jaemin was so determined to invite you personally, but as soon as he saw you enter the classroom, laughing with Chaeryoung, all his confidence subsided. He watched you make your way to your seat, all while chatting with your friend. He knew that they had invited some people already so, in order to not hurt your feelings any further, he needed to let you know you were invited too as soon as possible. Jaemin was so focused on gaining back his determination, that he didn’t notice Chenle sliding into the seat next to him.

“Did you invite her?” he asked, even though by Jaemin’s state he could’ve guessed the answer, “do it soon or she’ll think she isn’t invited, I already texted the Ryujin and the others.” Chenle explained.

“What? Why would you do that?” Jaemin looked downright concerned.

“Why? Because you said you were going to ask her before Bio, and it’s been two periods since then?!” Now Chenle was stressed too, he didn’t want you to think you weren’t welcome at the party.

“You invite her Chenle.” Jaemin said, “but make sure she comes, alright? Say whatever it takes to make her come.”

Chenle sighed but didn’t argue with Jaemin. After all, he wanted you to come too. He got out of his seat and made his way over to you.

“Hey Y/N” he greeted you with a smile that you were quick to return.

“Hi Lele, what’s up?”

“So, you know about the Halloween party, right?” as you looked at him, Chenle suddenly noticed how nervous you got at the mention of the party. Did you expect him to tell you couldn’t come? Or did you think of ways to decline his invitation? “Uhm, so, I just wanted to ask which costume you were going to wear so we don’t come as twins.” He grinned at you and Chae had to stifle a laughter.

You smiled at him, “Hm, I don’t know. Ryujin is our costume representative.”

Chenle beamed. That was an acceptance to his invitation, right? “Great. I’ll be sure to ask her then.” He was about to go back to his seat when he turned around, “You’re not just saying that, right? You’ll actually come to the party, right Y/N?”

You smiled softly, “Of course I’ll come. Why would you even doubt that?”

“Just had to make sure. I promised the host that I’d say anything to make you accept the invitation.” He smirked, and with that he was back on his way to his seat, leaving you blushing and Chaeryoung giggling.

Your eyes darted to said host, and to your surprise he was already looking at you. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you didn’t look away. You smiled at him, and he smiled back.

vii.           shut it jeno

For the rest of the day Jaemin was a giddy mess. He wanted to tell anyone, who mentioned the party that you were coming. He was smiley all day and all of his friends noticed. They were glad that you had accepted with such ease, that you too were happy to have been invited to the event. Jaemin was so nervous, he had to  remind himself to calm down. The party was still a week away yet whenever he thought of it his heart did somersaults.

As soon as the final bell signaled the end of the day and with that the start of the weekend, Jaemin was on his way out to have a smoke. He hadn’t had a cigarette all day, so he was a little deprived of nicotine. He would never admit that to anyone, though. In his mind he could still stop smoking at any point, he simply didn’t want to. Jeno and him made their way out to the parking lot and as soon as they were out of the building, he fished out his pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips. He was only moments away from lighting it and finally calm down a bit more, if only he could find his lighter.

“Oh, shit dude. I forgot my gym clothes. do you mind waiting while I get them?” Jeno asked already on his way back inside. Jaemin shook his head ‘no’, he had to finish smoking before they drove home anyways. But to do that, he still had to find his lighter.

“Uhm, Jaemin?”

He turned around at the familiar soft voice. The cigarette was still hanging from his lips unlit. However, at the sight of you he made sure to take it out and put it back into his pocket.

“Hi.” He smiled.

You hadn’t really talked to Jaemin in quite a while, so you were a little nervous, “Hello.” You said smiling, “I just wanted to thank you for the invitation. I’m really looking forward to the party. Ryujin’s pretty excited as well. Apparently, she has the perfect idea for a costume, but I’m not allowed to tell you, sorry. She said knowing the costumes of others beforehand spoils half the fun”

Jaemin’s heart warmed, looking at you ramble, “I’m glad you’re coming. Can’t wait to see that costume too.”

You blushed, and his smile grew. He missed your interactions. Even though this one was unlike the ones you’ve had before; he felt all fuzzy and excited, maybe even nervous. And if his people knowledge was correct, you felt all of that too.

“Uhm yeah, so…” You looked at him and smiled once more, “I promise I won’t take a strawberry bubble bath before the party!”

Jaemin was surprised by this, and probably looked a little like it too. After processing your words, he was about to tell you that he didn’t mind the smell when it came to you, but you were already on the way to your car, “I’ll see you on Monday, Nana!”

He chuckled to himself and took out the cigarette once more, just as Jeno came back. Jeno frowned looking at the unlit cigarette, “Really Jaemin? Two in a row? Isn’t that a little too much even for you?”

“Relax, Jeno. I haven’t lit the first one yet.” He explained

“Huh? Usually, you’d be done by now?”

“Yeah. Y/N came to talk, and we chatted for a bit.” He smiled.

Jeno raised an eyebrow, “So? Talking to us never stopped you from lighting a cigarette.”

“Yeah, but you know, she doesn’t like the smell of them.” Jaemin answered as he watched you leave the parking lot.

Jeno grinned from ear to ear and Jaemin could practically hear his next words already.

“Shut it, Jeno”, he warned.

“What I didn’t even say anything!” Jeno defended himself.

“You didn’t have to”, Jaemin rolled his eyes.

“Okey, okey… simp.” Jeno smiled as he made his way to his car.

Jaemin shot one glare in Jeno’s direction, then laughed and followed. The need for a cigarette long forgotten.

 viii.         a sweet surprise

The next week went by in a blur. Everyone was too excited for the short break and of course, Na Jaemin’s infamous Halloween party to focus, so schoolwork seemed pointless. Thankfully, you were fortunate enough to be somewhat included in the friend group, so one early homeroom, Chenle passed you a piece of paper with what seemed to be a list of drink preferences on it. You scanned over it, debating whether or not you should add something to it or not. In reality you didn’t have any favorites when it came to alcohol as long as it didn’t taste like crap, and your brain felt fuzzy after drinking some of it you were satisfied. You were just about to pass the list on when a mischievous idea popped into your head. A smile crept onto your face as scribbled down your drink of choice. You were still smirking when you passed on the list to Yeji, who shortly after she received it snorted and you thought it must’ve been because of what you had written down. And it was. Yeji chuckled, looked at you amused and gave the list back to Chenle.

-

The shopping for the party was always chaotic. It had been the past two years and it was going to be just as chaotic this year. What would you expect, when it was seven boys running around in a grocery store looking for everything, they could possibly need for a rather big Halloween party? Renjun generally tried to be the voice of reason. Especially for Jisung und Lele who tended to just look at the most random things, shake them and then continue to toss them into the cart. More than once Renjun had to remind them that they were preparing for a party and not the apocalypse. But in all honesty, all this chaos was what made it fun.

Renjun, Jisung and Chenle were on snack duty and the rest of the boys were supposed to get the drinks.

For the most part it was easy to get drinks. The boys knew what they wanted so they started with everything they could find, to satisfy their own preferences before actually taking a look onto the list to see if they’ve left anything out that was on there. Said list was usually not too long, since the boys didn’t give it to everyone attending. And this year you were the only new addition on it.

“Okey guys, who has the list?” Mark asked, just as they entered the liquor and spirit isle.

“Chenle gave it to Nana, I think.” Jeno said, already hauling a whole palette of beer onto the cart.

When they were sure they had everything they wanted, Jaemin took the list out of his back  pocket and read through it quickly. It was a work of art really. About twelve different handwritings all scribbling onto one paper that was folded up multiple times, in different ink colors and definitely with different effort. All the way at the bottom there was one handwriting Jaemin didn’t recognize; he knew it was yours before his brain even comprehended what you wrote. There was a fond smile on his face knowing you had trusted them with your favorite drink. At this moment Jaemin really was as close to heart eyes as humanly possible. But his lovesick smile turned into a soft scoff when he really read what you had written, what, apparently, you expected to drink at his party.

“Hello? Earth to Jaemin?” Jeno said waving his hand between Jaemin’s face and the list, which eventually pulled him back from his disbelief.

“What?” he asked, still bamboozled.

“Is there anything else we need?” Mark asked looking over Jaemin’s shoulder., and he had to suppress his laughter when he read your wish. “Yoooo guys, Y/N wants strawberry wine.”

The others started to laugh, while Jaemin just stood there, glaring at them. Finally, he looked up from the list and sighed, “Listen, I like her but there is literally no way in hell I’m going to get her strawberry wine, that’s against my principles.”

Donghyuck chuckled, “You like her?”

The others exchanged a knowing look, while Jaemin’s cheeks turned slightly pink, “What? No, I never said that.” He defended himself.

Jeno smirked and patted him on his shoulder, and stated matter-of-factly, “You like her.”

Before Jaemin could retaliate Mark chimed in, “So, let’s get your girl her strawberry wine.” he smiled innocently and pushed Jaemin in the direction of the bottles.

ix.            hello halloween

Ryujin giggled as you walked out of the bathroom in full costume, “It’s perfect! You look so adorable!” You chuckled as you looked yourself in the mirror.

All the girls had gathered at your house to get ready for the party. You didn’t know that that involved them coming over at nine a.m. and spending the majority of the day watching spooky movies and munching on snacks. Not that you were complaining. When it was finally time to actually get ready, Ryujin was a giggly mess. She couldn’t stop talking about how funny your group costume was, and that she was a genius for coming up with it. Yeji and Chaeryoung were equally as excited, still they rolled their eyes every time Ryujin talked about how groundbreaking the costumes were. In the end, they were just costumes, although all four of you had to admit they were quite clever: After long thought, Ryujin had announced that the four of you were to go as the characters of Strawberry Shortcake, with the main character being of course yours truly. Ryujin laughed every time she thought of Jaemin’s face when he’d see you walk into the party dressed up as THE strawberry shortcake, it was hilarious really.

Of course, all four of you were on board with the costumes. Besides the ongoing joke about you and strawberries, it was a really cute idea and you guys could definitely put a y2k twist to it, which is exactly what you did. You looked great and you also smelled great, each costume coming with a sickly-sweet perfume in the characters signature dessert. So, technically you didn’t break your promise of not taking a strawberry bubble bath.

“Jaemin is going to lose his mind.” Chae chuckled.

“In a good way or in a bad way?” You asked skeptically, assessing your outfit once more in the mirror. You were pretty nervous, even though you didn’t really have to be. The party was kind of big, yes but it was also mostly people you knew and people you liked. Deep down you were aware that you were nervous because of Jaemin, but you weren’t quite ready to accept that yet. You hoped the strawberry wine would do that for you tonight.

Yeji smiled at you, “At first in a good way until he smells all the strawberry, then he’s definitely going to go insane.” You pouted at your friend, who in return just laughed, “I’m just joking.”

“Guys we should leave, it’s almost seven!” Chae shouted from the bathroom, where she touched up her make-up.

“Okey, but let’s quickly take a picture before we go!” Yeji suggested, already unlocking her phone.

“No posting pictures before we get to the party girls!” Ryujin reminded and Yeji scrunched her nose in dislike and argued that she never said anything about posting the picture, she just wanted to take one. To that Ryujin agreed and the next twenty minutes were spent posing in front of the camera.

You had decided that you were going to walk to Jaemin’s house even before you had decided on your costumes. Although it wasn’t as close as Chenle’s, it wasn’t too far away and besides, you weren’t going to miss out on all the Halloween decorations as well as the cute trick-or-treaters. The vibe was just right tonight, and you felt your nervousness slightly slip into giddiness as you and your girls approached the house.

Chenle told you to arrive a little earlier than the other guests so as you walked up the driveway the only sound you could hear was the laughter of your friends, although you were sure this was going to change as the evening went on. You smiled to yourself, you had such a good feeling about tonight, you quite literally couldn’t wait, so you grabbed Chaeryoung’s hand and started to walk a little faster.

“Whoa there, lover girl, no need to run!” she smiled.

-

The boys had a pretty similar day, except that while they were watching movies, they simultaneously decorated the house and prepared everything else for the evening. They didn’t plan a group costume, so they all just came up with one on their own, which resulted in 4 out of 7 boys to dress up as Vampires. Not that they cared, though.

Throughout the day the boys had a lot of fun teasing Jaemin about his obvious eagerness to see you. He debated for the better half of the day if he should text you, just to make sure that you were really coming. And when the doorbell didn’t ring at exactly 7.30 p.m., your agreed arrival time, Jaemin grew more and more anxious.

“Bro, its literally 7.33. No need to panic yet, they’re gonna come.” Hyuck reassured him. None of them had ever seen Jaemin quite like this. It was almost uncanny to see Jaemin this nervous, excited, lovesick. They would tease him more about it if it wasn’t just so darn cute.

“I wish Y/N could see him like this, all giddy and nervous,” Chenle stated into the room, “watch him switch back into his flirting mode as soon as he sees her.” He shook his head slightly at the thought.

Jaemin scoffed, “What do you mean? I’m totally normal right now, and when I talk to Y/N.”

The others didn’t know if they were supposed to laugh at that or not. “Are you serious? You call this,” Jisung gestured towards Jaemin, “normal? Jaemin, you’ve been quite literally vibrating, with excitement or nervousness.”

“The last time we saw anyone like this was when Mark released his first song on SoundCloud.” Donghyuck snickered, earning a glare from his older friend.

Jaemin was about to retaliate when he heard a knock on the door, “Let’s not talk about this anymore, yea?”, and with one last glare towards his best friends he left to get the door.

In all honesty Jaemin couldn’t explain is behavior. He knew that he liked you, he’s liked people before, but he didn’t know why or how he could like you this much. It was honestly quite baffling, having known you for barely two months.  But Jaemin was never one to deny and swallow down his feelings, which by the way resulted in his natural flirtatiousness, so he was determined to let you know how he felt today. Tonight. God, he hoped liquid courage would give him the final push.

With one last deep breath he opened the door and was greeted with your colorful costumes and excited squeals. The other girls greeted him but were quick to move past him. Jaemin’s eyes scanned up and down your body, a small smile threatening to expose his feelings. You looked amazing. Amazingly cute, amazingly beautiful, amazingly strawberry?

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned on the door frame, “And what are you supposed to be?” he smirked.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, a bemused smile evident on your features. “Strawberry Shortcake.”

A genuine laugh escaped his lips, “Of course you are.” He shook his head and let you inside the house.

Only two months before, Jaemin would’ve visibly cringed at the slightest whiff of your strawberry scent, but now he barely noticed. He wouldn’t go as far as saying he liked it, but he didn’t mind it. Which definitely meant a lot.

“Oh right!” you suddenly exclaimed, turning around to Jaemin who was closely following you and didn’t expect your abrupt halt and turn, and bumped straight into you.

It took a second for the both of you to regain yourselves after this close-up body encounter. Anyone watching would’ve instantly known you liked each other, thank God nobody was. But then again, it’s not like nobody knew.

“What is it?” Jaemin asked curiously after he regained composure. He observed you as you were searching for something in your bag.

“There it is!” you pulled out a light pink lighter in triumph and handed it to Jaemin, “ a gift for the host.”

“Y/N Y/L/N are you enabling my nicotine addiction by giving me this lighter?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes as a small smile made its way towards your lips, “Turn it around.”

Jaemin did. And for a moment he was speechless. At the other side of the lighter was a small strawberry, “It doesn’t smell like… does it?”

“Think of me while you use it, yea?” you smiled, and with that you went towards the living room to greet the others.

That would be easy for Jaemin, he was thinking of you always as it was already.

-

The party was in full swing and Jaemin hadn’t really talked to you since he greeted you. He was having fun, and from the glances he had stolen towards you, you were too, he just wished you could have it together. To be fair, since it was at his house, and Jaemin was the official host, he was running around making sure everyone was happy, and that everyone knew where the toilets were. Just in case.

You also caught yourself looking for Jaemin. Most of the time you would see him frantically running around, which was rather amusing. Whenever you saw him talking to an especially pretty girl you felt your heart churn a little. However as you had been observing, most of these talks ended in Jaemin pointing somewhere and then the girls just leaving. Still, you didn’t like being jealous, especially when you didn’t have a right to be.

When Chenle caught you for the nth time looking around for Jaemin he decided to give you a little push in the right direction, “Please, would you just go talk to him?” he whined.

At first you didn’t even realize he was talking to you, too caught up in your head and the buzz you felt from the strawberry wine. Chenle had to nudge you for you to understand that he was in fact talking to you.

“I will. Later.” You smiled at him.

“Can you please do it now?” Chenle continued to groan slightly. You knew he was slightly drunk, and you also knew that he didn’t mean any harm, but you were still a little annoyed, which he noticed, “I’m sorry it’s just, you know. Jaemin was just like you when I talked to him earlier so, you know I have double the lovesick friends I have to deal with than Yeji, Ryujin, and Chae. So please cut me some slack.”

You chuckled a little at that, “I know I’m sorry. I’m gonna go get a refill and then find Jaemin, okey?” Speaking that aloud was for yourself, so you’d  actually follow through with it. You downed the reminder of your wine and then made your way towards the kitchen but not before hearing Chenle and Ryujin shout “That’s our girl!”

-

Jeno was mixing drinks in the kitchen and while you were curious as to what exactly he was making, you opted for your wine instead.

“Is there any strawberry wine left?”

“There should be one more bottle I think.”, he answered not looking up from his bartender work, “it’s pretty popular, you got taste.”

You chuckled and took out the bottle, filling some into your cup, “You guys are just a bunch of strawberry-antis.”

“Hey! It’s only Jaemin who is a strawberry hater. None of the other guys dislike the fruit.” He defended his group of friends, laughing with rosy cheeks from what you can only assume were cause by his cocktail-creations.

“Speaking of Nana…” you started, obviously nervous.

Jeno’s features softened, “He’s upstairs, I think. Trying to wind down a bit.”

“Oh.” You said, looking at your shoes.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you coming up though.”

“Really?” you asked like a small kid, what made Jeno laugh and realize how much you liked his best friend really.

“Yea, really.”

-

With your again, half empty cup of wine you made your way towards what you think was Jaemin’s room. At least you thought you followed the instructions Jeno had given you earlier. Your heart was doing somersaults as you approached the door, even with the strawberry flavored alcohol pumping through your veins.

Your hand moved to softly knock on his door. There was no answer, so you knocked again a little harder. Still nothing. Now, you stood pouting in front of a closed door which soon evolved into you glaring at said door. If looks could kill, and doors were alive, it would’ve been dead by now. You were just about to burst the door open and tell Jaemin a piece of your mind when you heard a laugh from behind you.

“Y/N?” Jaemin chuckled, “What are you doing in front of the broom closet?”

You spun around at his voice, a blush clearly visible on your features, “I thought this was your room. I’ve been knocking for the past few minutes.” You explained giggling. You, yourself had to laugh at this mistake, and normally he would’ve too, but in this moment he just couldn’t. You looked so cute, so adorable standing in front of his broom closet. Jaemin was sure this time he really was rocking the heart eyes.

To break the silence and find out why you wanted to talk to him about, he asked “What did you need?” tilting his head slightly.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” You smiled, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “And Jeno said you were upstairs in your room. He did give me directions as to what door was the one to your room, but I must’ve taking the wrong turn.” You chuckled again at yourself.

Jaemin nodded, “You wanna go back downstairs to talk?” he asked.

You just shrugged.

“Wanna go into my actual room? Which is not a broom closet by the way.” He teased.

You smiled, “Lead the way.”

-

Jaemin’s room really was just one door before, and it was huge. He even had his own balcony, which overlooked the backyard. Down there the party was still in full swing, however you were happy to be away from it for a while. You walked out onto to balcony, could hear the muffled sounds of countless teenagers having the one of the best nights of their youth. And you realized, you too were having one of the best nights of your life.

Jaemin had followed you outside, taking out the pack of cigarettes he had in his back pocket, “Do you mind if I…?” he asked and he was almost 100% sure you would lecture him on smoking, but you shook your head and smiled. So, he lit his cigarette, watching you in awe as you looked out at the night sky.

After a few moments you broke the silence, “I’m getting a weird sense of déjà vu.” You laughed, turning around to look at the boy. The situation was a lot like the night you met. Except this time Jaemin wasn’t a stranger. Except this time, you loved the boy in front of you.

“Well, it’s almost like we were in the exact same situation before”, he joked, putting out his cigarette and coming up to you.

In this split second Jaemin’s brain switched off and his heart took over the coordination of his body, that’s the only explanation he has for what he did. It was bold. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you impossibly close. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, gazing into your eyes. In this moment you were sure that he could hear your heart. That he could feel it. And in a sense, he could since his heart was beating just as fast.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“What?” it was a dumb respond, you were aware of that, but you couldn’t help it. Your heart was so full of the love you felt that you were scared to just admit it to him. But here Jaemin was, just telling you how he felt. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known that he liked you back, it was just so impressive that he could simply say it.

Jaemin understood the ‘what’ as what it was, so his face softened and he continued, “Yes, believe it or not, I’m in love with ever strawberry colored, scented, flavored thing about you.”

Now you were the one with the heart eyes. With a surge of confidence, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed the boy who held you in his arms. Jaemin was taken aback at first, but soon he melted into you. He could taste the strawberry wine on your lips, and to his surprise he didn’t mind it at all. This was just so you. He smiled into the kiss. This is what kissing you felt like. He finally knew now.

When you eventually pulled away, you were smiling shyly, as if you hadn’t just full on kissed him out of the blue.

He smirked down at you, “You know what, Y/N? you really do taste like strawberries.”

You smiled and looked up at him and said a small, “Sorry”, even though you weren’t, not really, “Hey Jaemin?”

“Hm?”

“I’m in love with you too, you know.” You said, smiling up at him.

Your sudden shyness made Jaemin’s heart flutter. He sighed happily, leaned down and before kissing you once again, he whispered in your ear, “You make me straw-verry happy, Y/N.”

thank you for reading til the end, i hope you have a nice day! ♡

this piece was written by @yourstruleejn so please don’t post on any other platforms or translate into any other languages! thank u !!!

[someobliviousgirl]

A tragic love story

Hey, this is the first fic that I post on tumblr. English isn't my first language, sorry in advance for the mistakes.

Wanda x fem!reader (reader has wings)

Wanda has been sick for the past three weeks but maybe your abilities could explain why...

(Recently corrected)

WARNINGS : blood and violence, major character death, sad fic, some fluff, pregnancy, gun, heavy angst, don't let the summary fool you.

Wanda and you have been a couple for two years now, you met when you first joined the Avengers six months before the incident in Lagos. You were one of the only people to try and comfort Wanda after the incident and you grew closer because of it.

You were able to join the Avengers thanks to your powers, you had wings, could fly, and had a vision overdeveloped. In fact, you had all those abilities because you were from another planet where everyone is like you. But after a civil war half of your home planet found refuge on other planets including earth, you left with your parents at the age of 10 and grew up on earth. After years of hiding who you really were, S.H.I.E.L.D found out about your abilities and asked you to join the Avenger initiative.

From then on you’ve been helping them with worldwide threats and made a new chosen family with the team. After Lagos, tensions started to rise between everyone but you choose to focus on Wanda who arrived on the team just a few months after you. Since then you’ve developed romantic feelings for the witch and she did too, you officialized a few months after the sokovian accords were signed much to the surprise of the remaining avengers on the team.

Two years later the sokovian accords have been ripped and all of the team returned. You were happy to meet again your best friend the Black Widow and to finally stop hiding from the word with Wanda.

But all of this couldn’t have prepared you for what would happen to you two after that.

 ***

Wanda was sick for the past three weeks which made you worry about her, “Babe, maybe you should go see Dr. Cho. It’s been three weeks and you’re still not getting better” you said to Wanda while she was vomiting over the toilets “It’s probably nothing y/n don’t worry about it” she responded while walking toward the sink. Not letting her go so easily you grab her by the shoulders when she finishes washing her mouth and turn her toward you.

“You have to go check with a doctor my love, vomiting for three weeks straight is not normal. Please at least promise me you’ll see Dr. Cho today” you asked her softly.

“Okay, fine I’ll go now and she will confirm what I’ve been telling you for weeks, it’s just a bad stomach bug” she complied and you kissed her on the lips happy that she agreed. “Thank you, my stubborn girlfriend.” she pushes your arm playfully and you both leave to find the doctor in her office in the compound.

***

“What?” Was your first reaction to the news Dr. Cho gave you, as for Wanda she remained speechless.

“According to the blood tests that I ran on Mrs. Maximoff” she turns towards Wanda, “You are pregnant”

“No, it’s impossible, I’ve only been with y/n! Baby, I swear I didn’t cheat on you” Wanda looked at you with worried eyes but before you could respond the doctor interrupted “Indeed, if it reassures the both of you, the DNA of the baby is in fact 50% Mrs. Maximoff and 50% miss y/l/n” You were indeed reassured even if you knew that Wanda would never do that to you, some insecurities never die…

“How… how is this possible?” you asked. “Well it seems that your powers are far more extended than we thought, we don’t really know how but it is the only reasonable explanation, you impregnated Wanda thanks to your magic.”

“How far am I?” Your girlfriend asked Cho “You are a little over three weeks into your pregnancy. I will let you two discuss, if you have any questions I will be in my office” she leaves you two alone while Wanda silently tears up.

 You take her in your arms murmuring softly in her ear “It’s okay my love, I’ll always be here, whatever you decide” you kiss her on the forehead.

After a few minutes Wanda calmed down and said “I...I want to keep it, are you okay with that?” “Of course I’m okay with that babe… We are going to be parents” you replied just realizing how both of your lives would change. Wanda kisses you on the lips “Yes, we are.”

***

You announced the news to all the compound the same day, all but Natasha your best friend, to whom you talked just an hour after knowing you were going to be a mom. You were so excited to meet your and Wanda’s child.

After three months you both discovered that you were expecting twins. This was another shock but knew that your chosen family would always be there to help if you needed it, especially Natasha who you chose to be the godmother.

***

Wanda was now in her last trimester, you two were heading to the mall to get the last furniture for the twins’ room. You were holding hands while walking, you didn’t take the car because the mall was 5 minutes away from the compound. “What color of paint should we choose for the children's room?” You just brought a house for the four of you but didn’t move in yet. “I don’t know maybe light yellow” you said “'Light yellow'?? No y/n, that is a terrible idea” Wanda said while laughing slightly. “Why? Don’t you like yellow as a color?” “Well yes but not on walls baby, could you imagine the lighting in that room?” she replied still laughing “Okay okay, no yellow, what about-” but just before you could finish your sentence you heard someone shouting your girlfriend’s last name.

You both turned around and found a man in his 40s looking slightly nervous. “Hi, can I help you?” Wanda said, on her guards, while you stepped a little in front of her by instinct. “Actually yes, do you remember your little incident in Lagos?” before she could respond he continued “Well my son was in the building that YOU blew up! The least I could do would be to repay the favor...” before you could do a thing the man got a gun out of his jean jacket. In your desperation to keep your love safe, you pulled out your wings and enveloped her with them, turning your back on the man.

You heard two loud bangs, at first nothing happened but then you felt all your body on fire. “No.” Wanda said, not fully understanding what happened in her shocked state. It’s when she saw the blood leaking from your mouth that she realized the gravity of the situation. She lost control of her powers and blew the man out with a shock wave and shouted your name.

Your legs started to give out under you and Wanda accompanied you to the floor as gently as she could with the weight of your wings in addition to your body. “No, no, no…” She repeated while applying pressure on your wounds and crying. “Green.” you said in a murmur, too weak to say anything else, “What?”, “Gr- green for the...the room” you repeated, your eyes closing slowly. “No, no, keep your eyes open for me baby, please.” Wanda said while shaking you, you reopened your eyes with difficulty. “That’s it babe… a green room? Yes of course love, but you have to stay to see it okay? Nat is on her way.” you nodded your head knowing that she pressed her emergency button as soon as she saw your bloody mouth.

Wanda hears the quinjet in the distance and reassures you “Do you hear it baby? The team is coming, just hold on please” She was fully crying now, not sure the team would land in time “You have to meet our twins y/n okay, just hold one more minute” she was begging you but your eyes were starting to unfocus you put a last effort and said, “I- I love you Wanda, tell the twins th- that I love them too…”

While Wanda heard Nat’s boots on the floor she was focusing on your empty eyes looking through her. When Natasha arrived near Wanda the first thing she heard was a heart-wrenching scream. She rapidly understood the situation when she saw your bloody wings laying on the floor and a man knocked out against a wall probably dead too with a gun near him.

In a brief instant all of your lives changed and she didn’t know if Wanda would ever get through this trauma.

Thanks for reading!

[bluemusickid]

A Love So True: Part 3

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none, language, angst, tears, talk of past memories, minors DNI

A/N: Wow, this was long overdue. Please don't kill me for the late update lol, the writer's block was quite long this time. This may feel like a slow paced-fic, but trust me, I'll make it worth your time. Thank you so so much for all the love and support you've shown my work, and for patiently waiting for this part. It warms my heart that people are actually reading and enjoying what I am putting out. As always, likes are welcome but reblogs are appreciated. Let me know what you feel about this new chapter and what you think is coming next! Kthanxbaiiii💓

I no longer do taglists, if you wish to be notified of my newest updates, pleeeease follow @lexiscyberlibrary ​, and switch on the notifications! Check out my masterlist for more stories!

My blog is 18+, MINORS DNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please read the warnings before you start reading. I publish my work only on AO3 and Tumblr, nowhere else. I do not give permission to translate or reproduce my work anywhere else. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are entirely my own.

Gif by @a7estrellas . Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part 1 || Part 2

Sinking to the cold, hard ground, your mind raced. He was a part of your past. That's why he felt familiar. That's why your mind was acting up. All the little signs, all the warning bells, they finally made sense. He knew, and yet, he'd stayed silent. Like everyone else.

You heard the door open behind you, as you stiffened, not wanting to face him right now. He didn’t say a word as he sat next to you, keeping a gap in between. You were thankful for that. It was really tough to be next to him, let alone face him or meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Your tears started again, as you relived all the moments of the past few months, a bitter undertone staining them. He knew, and yet he strung you along. It made you feel like such a dunce.

“Why?”

It was just one word. A word he should have anticipated, and he should have had an answer for. But he didn’t. He was too caught up in making you fall for him again. 

“The doctors said-”

“I don’t give a SHIT about what the doctors said! I don’t care about what my psychiatrist, my family or my friends said! Why did YOU do it?”

“Sweetheart, if you could just come inside and talk, you’re shivering.” he implored, his gaze fixed on your shivering form.

“I’m not coming in. I can’t. Tell me now, or drop me home. I won’t go back into a house where I apparently had a lot of history.”

Chris sighed. He could tell you were angry, upset and hurt, and rightfully so. He should've been upfront from the start.

"Ok. How about I take you home so that we can talk? I promise, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just...please don't shut me out, honey."

His term of endearment brought on fresh tears in your eyes. There was something so genuine about him, something that pulled you to him. But your rationality won over. He had betrayed your trust.

Silently, you walked back inside, collecting your things, petting Dodger and kissing him goodbye before you left. Your heart hurt as you exited. Why had you been given such a beautiful evening for it to be tainted this way?

You sat in the car, gazing out at the scenery passing by, darkness engulfing the streets. You didn't realise how late it had gotten. Absentmindedly, you realised it being the direct result of hanging out with Chris. Time stood still when you were with him.

He pulled into your driveway, warily looking at you. This was the moment of truth. Sighing, you signalled him to come inside with you, your need for answers winning over your initial rage.

Dropping your purse unceremoniously on the table, you took off your coat, suddenly feeling really tired. Turning to Chris, you see him staring at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

"Take a seat."

He sat down cautiously, watching you sit opposite him. Normally, you would sit beside him, but you needed to keep a clear mind around him.

"Start from the beginning. Don't leave out anything, Chris. Please."

He hesitated, before speaking up. "We met four years ago, at the coffee shop. You were waiting for your coffee order. I remember being as awestruck back then, as I am now. You were standing there, reading a book, not caring about the world around you. I couldn't take my eyes off you." He chuckled. "You asked me to pass you the sugar and I just.." he trailed off.

"Anyway, I asked for your number and you miraculously agreed to go on a date with me."

You frowned. This sounded exactly like how he'd met you now.

"So you tried to recreate our meeting? You planned it?"

"No. It was a stroke of luck. I happened to take a walk that day and I saw you walking in. I was about to turn around but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stop myself from looking at you, talking to you, being in your company. How could I? You're the love of my life, my better half." He said, as tears shone in his eyes.

You turned away, blinking away the tears that had formed. You could tell that every single word he said was true; and wasn't to woo you.

"Carry on."

"The day you regained consciousness, I was in the room. You looked at me like I was a stranger. I tried to hold your hand but you shrank back, scared. They then deciphered that there was some trauma, owing to which you had lost most of your memories, mostly of your adult life. I'd then been asked by your parents to stay away for a bit, atleast till you were out of the hospital and had recovered a little at home. I would still come to check up on you." His voice cracked, heavy with unshed tears.

Your heart broke, for him and for you. You'd lost your memories, but he'd lost his wife, his better half, in a way. You desperately wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to comfort him; but you stopped yourself. You needed the whole truth before you could go forward in your lives...and whatever this relationship was.

"We'd planned a life together...kids, a puppy or two, the whole nine yards. And all of it just...withered away, in the blink of an eye."

Moving to face you, he continued. "The plan was to make you fall for me again, probably the same way as before, as a way to jog your memory. The doctor's thought it would help you to regain some memories, without startling you or causing any mental agony. It didn't work the way I thought it would, but there were a few things that felt off to you, didn't they?"

You gulped. There were. Those moments of déja vù? Those were your past memories, your past life trying to pry their way back. But there was a mental block of sorts. You couldn't get them out.

You nodded, hesitantly. "That day in the park.."

"Yes, when you correctly bought me my favourite coffee. That wasn't guess work. You knew it. You've always known it; heck, you're the one who got me hooked onto it. The park date was another past memory, we'd had our third date there. You looked as beautiful as you did back then."

You felt his fingers trail softly along your cheek, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind your ear. Your tears started afresh. This man, this beautiful man was very much in love with you. He didn't need to say it, it was obvious to even a silent bystander.

But were you in love with him?

"Chris...I...". You took a deep breath. "Thank you, for telling me. I know it must've been really tough to see me like that. And I know that your feelings are genuine. I...I wish I could say the same."

You turned to the window, unable to meet his eyes. He deserved to know how you felt, but you weren't sure if he was strong enough to hear it.

"Think of it from my perspective. You've known me for a long time, but I've only known you for a few months. I may look like your wife, but mentally, I'm not even 25. There are so many things i've forgotten, and so much I need to catch up on."

"Sweetheart, there is absolutely no pressure-"

"There absolutely is, Chris. If I agree to stay with you, as a way to jog my memory, there will be pressure. Silent, but still, loads of pressure. I'll be unwittingly yet constantly asked if I remember certain things. I'll have moments when I suddenly remember something, followed by moments of complete impassivity. And it's not something that's in my hands."

You walked to him, taking his hand in yours. It felt warm and strong, two things you were craving from him since a long time.

"I know that you'll not push me. And I know that there will be no pressure, neither from your family, nor mine. But there will be a certain level of self induced pressure. And try as I might, I don't think I'm strong enough at the moment, to handle that."

Tears flowed down Chris' face. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He had prayed and prayed that you would come back to him. He had hoped that his love would be enough. Swiping your thumbs over his cheeks, you hold his face in your hands.

"This isn't goodbye. I don't think I could ever stay away from you, no matter how much I tried. At first, I chalked it up to our chemistry but it's so much more than that. I don't know what to name us or what we share, but it's not something to take lightly."

Standing on your tiptoes, you gazed into his eyes, brimming with sadness. You closed your eyes as you left a kiss on his cheek, as a promise of more.

"I just need time, to sort out my life. I need time to find myself. But I need you, too."

Chris touched his forehead to yours, eyes wrenched shut. His emotions were warring within him. You were right, as you always were. He knew it wasn't fair to just dump all this information on you and not expect this outcome.

"It's really tough, sweetheart. I love you so much."

Softly grazing your knuckles, he said,"Take all the time you need. I'll be waiting, no matter how much time it takes."

He kissed your knuckles ever so softly, his lips sending small shocks through your body. Had it always been like this? Raw magnetism just everytime you met?

Chris saw the look in your eyes and smirked. "I know what you're thinking. Yes, it was always this electric. But I won't talk about it till you are ready to, honey. Baby steps."

Your heart raced as you took in his words, looking down shyly. You really wanted him, how could you not? But it wasn't the time. You needed to approach this with a clear mind, not with lust hazing your reasoning.

You watched him walk away, stopping him with a question, "Will you bring Dodger around sometime?"

He gave a small smile. "Of course I will. He misses his mom."

Chris sank back into his couch, weary and tired. This isn't how he expected the night to go. Why didn't he hide that picture? What a dumb mistake. You wouldn't have seen it, and you would've had a lovely dinner. He might've been able to hold her as well.

But in his heart of hearts he knew, that it was only a matter of time before you would find out. And keeping it from you would've been a terrible mistake. Dodger leaped onto the couch, laying his head on his lap. He chuckled, petting the pooch softly.

"Isn't she as beautiful as the day she left, bubba? I knew you missed her. I know you love her as much as I do."

Stroking absentmindedly, he allowed himself a moment to be happy. You wanted to be with him. He would give you all the time you needed. He would wait till the ends of time, even if it meant spending only a second with you.

He would bring you back home, where you belonged.

Six months had passed by, and true to his word, Chris was giving you space. The talk with your parents had been tough; at times prompting you to take a long drink of water to stop your tears from spilling, but you knew it would be worth it.

This was the only way forward and you had to stick to it. Your parents told you how he would always be there, albeit in the shadows, helping you in one way or another. He paid for a nurse to be there for you 24/7, he paid for all the doctor's visits, and even sent a driver for you. All from a distance, till your health improved, and you were ready to get back to work.

Even now, as you were trying to remember your past, he didn't barge into your space. He was very respectful of your boundaries, and was very careful of not overstepping. He'd texted you almost everyday, asking about your daily activities. You'd even met for coffee once or twice. He'd send over flowers almost every week: specifically daisies. He knew they were your favourite, with a small note. How could you not swoon at that? You had to admit, it wasn't a surprise you hadn't fallen for him in the first place.

You looked through your wedding album, which your parents finally relented and gave to you. Your eyes welled up at the mere sight of him; he was perfect. His tear filled eyes as he watched you walked down the aisle was nothing short of heartwrenching and romantic at the same time.

Your first kiss as man and wife. It prompted you to relive your kiss with Chris, and how full of emotions it had been. Your lips tingled as you remembered the feel of his soft lips against yours, your whole body left tingling. There was such insane chemistry, and it was explosive to say the least. You hadn't wanted to think about it , but idly you wondered how amazing he would be in bed.

Shaking yourself you closed the album in a jiffy. There would be time for that. For now, you had to focus on remembering something, ANYTHING, from your past. And for that, you would have to take a step forward.

Picking up your phone, you checked your contacts, your thumb hovering over his number. If you did this, there would be no turning back. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on his number, holding it your ear, your hand trembling slightly.

He picked up a few seconds later.

"Hello?"

"Chris, it's me. I need to talk to you about something."

He was silent for a moment. "..Sure, honey. What is it about?"

You could hear the tension in his voice. Oh, boy. Here goes nothing.

"Chris..I...I think we should move back in together."

😘❤️🤷‍♀️😬

Tagging: @donutloverxo @gotnofucks @chrissquares @denisemarieangelina @patzammit @savior-adriana @imdarkinme @readermia

[hyunjinspark]

Hi Jade, I always thought of writing here and I was thinking of waiting till the next chapter (like mate stop procrastinating) but here we go... I've seen some people bad mouthing fanfics here and you saying that Tumblr hasn't been a happy place for you but I want you to know that your writing was one of the few things that helped me during one of the hardest times I've went through this summer. This is a bit embarassing for some reason lol but since I'm writing anonymously I can talk freely. Let me warn I may talk about some triggering topics and I don't know if you even want to read such things but my depression and anxiety became worse and I was also diagnosed with an eating disorder this summer. I really felt like giving up a lot this year and I feared that I'd. Thankfully I found some things to hold on for in life especially with uni starting. But during the summer I felt really alone and hopeless. This is half joking and half serious but I spent most of my time online and everytime you updated I was like "omg thank god I didn't do stupid things, here's the new chapter." "oh i should hang on a little more so that i can see the end of the fic." I always look forward to new chapters and I can imagine how hard it is to focus and be inspired when life goes on, responsibilities shows up and people try to degrade your work. But in the end I really hope and believe that nothing breaks your soul and your love for writing because you can always be an escape from reality and a peace of mind to someone who's in trouble without even knowing. I even made goddamn streusel cakes lol (unfortunately I had no strawberries left but apples weren't that bad either). Sending so much love to you and pardon me if I made any grammatical mistakes while writing to the greatest writer <3

trigger warning; depression, anxiety, ed

oh my god. first of all, thank you so much for feeling comfortable enough to open up and share this with me. i can’t thank you enough for telling me something like this, and how your message turned my week around.

its definitely strange to not have it to be a happy or safe place at the moment, because tumblr, for me, since years, has always been a safe space where i felt like i could share the writing i like, in a form that’s interesting to me. i love writing fiction, films and building stories about love, and with something like fandoms and fanfiction, its so simple to share with people. but currently with the hate threats, it’s definitely not feeling like a space where im comfortable anymore, so your message really impacted me, because it reminds me what i write for.

im so sorry to hear that you went through such a time, and i truly hope you’re doing much better now. ive had people close to me who have been through such situations and im so proud of you for not giving up and for still holding on. for you to say that my story helped me is a lot, perhaps way too much credit than i deserve, but honestly if my stories make you happy even just 1%, that’s enough for me.

i have been writing my entire life, but only shared on tumblr for a couple of years, with reservations because when you share any form of art or writing on the internet, you’re always inviting hate and anonymous comments from people who may not understand the intent of the work, and i could always go back to not sharing my writing since first and foremost i always write to express my ideas of love and receiving hate for love stories kind of negates that, you know? this week has made me feel like not wanting to share my writing anymore in the future, so thank you for telling me this.

i am grateful to have been an escape and piece of mind for you when you most needed it, and just that makes me feel like i was successful in sharing some love into the world.

you made streusel cakes from slwy? im honestly going to cry, ive never made streusel cakes myself but i will for you, im serious. going to get the recipe and coerce my best friend into doing that with me, just to celebrate you and slwy, and love.

once again, im so proud of you for getting through this and im so happy to have been there for you, even if unknowingly.