#this is a really fast doodle i’m not even gonna tag it

[erinarigby]

paul mccartney sandwich

[sharkorok]

ooo u want me so bad

or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u

requested: nope

cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe

a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place

-the only exception is you.

-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get

-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey

-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him

-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that

-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”

-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3

jay

-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared

-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head

-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”

-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne

-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…

-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all

-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly

-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer

-“u can keep it ig”

jake

-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them

-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that

-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”

-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL

-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!

-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man

-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust

-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…

-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!

-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”

sunghoon

-he’s really protective over you me thinks

-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked

-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor

-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…

-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3

-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you

-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry

sunoo

-he’ll always listen to you

-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways

-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella

-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice

-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation

-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol

-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either

-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf

-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl

-tldr ur word > anyone else

jungwon

-always speaks highly of you

-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL

-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao

-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you

-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO

-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you

-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??

-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe

-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.

-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”

niki

-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit

-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)

-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..

-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!

-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else

-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie

-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”

-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3

[roosterbox]

Heyyyyyyy Steddie thinky thought time again! And I’m putting it under a cut because, YET AGAIN, my hand slipped and I accidentally almost 2,000 words.

Tags: ANGST, miscommunication, HOH!Steve, Mean-and-Overly-Defensive!Eddie

So picture this, if you will…

High school AU. Probably no Upside-Down. Steve is deaf/HOH. He signs, but he knows that not everyone else does, and so few take the time to learn, especially not for him, so he usually carries around a notepad too. Just in case. Someone (probably Dustin, lbr) asks him to sit in on a Hellfire meeting. Heck, maybe even asks him to join. Steve is unsure, but he’s open to new experiences and Dustin always makes his favorite club sound really awesome (also the guy who runs the club is super cool and hot too, but shhhhhh). So sure - he’ll check it out.

The day comes and Steve gets there early. Like really early. In fact, he’s there before anyone else. Which is fine; he can use the extra free time to do a little homework, right? Thing is though, he’s so focused on his notebook that he doesn’t notice somebody else come in - Eddie. And there are four important things to note about Eddie.

He doesn’t know Steve is deaf.

He doesn’t know that Steve has been explicitly invited here by Dustin.

He knows Steve only by his reputation. So, not good.

He’s as protective of his club and the kids in it as a mama bear.

Needless to say, these four factors combine into a perfect storm, and Eddie is immediately on the offensive.

“Hey!” He says. “Hey, Harrington!” He continues when he gets no acknowledgement. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

No answer. Steve doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps writing in his notebook.

“Hey asshole! I’m talking to you!” Eddie’s volume is rising, as is his temper. Despite his uncle’s best efforts, Eddie’s never been the best at keeping cool. But, man, the disrespect. It tends to eat at him. And coming from King Steve of all people? Oooooooh doesn’t that just make his blood boil. Eddie stalks over to where Steve is sitting. If he thinks he’s gonna waltz in there and tease or humiliate any of Eddie’s little sheepies, he’s got another thing coming.

Steve, meanwhile, is just happily doing his homework. Maybe doodling a little in the margins. Wondering if Eddie looks as cool running the club as he does around school. Especially when he’s up on the lunch tables ranting about conformity. He’s so lost in thought that a sudden hand on his arm shocks him out of his chair, up to his feet. And just like that, he’s face to face with his secret crush, the one and only Eddie Munson. He smiles, but only for a moment as he sees Eddie’s furious expression. The other boy’s lips are moving. A little fast, but Steve does his best to read them.

“-hell are you doing here, Harrington? This isn’t one of your stupid jock sports teams. If you’re here to hurt these kids-“

Steve’s eyes widen. He tries to sign something. No, no.

Eddie sees Steve looking scared, waving his hands. It only serves to make him angrier. Steve sees he’s getting nowhere with sign, so he grabs his notepad and starts writing. He can still see Eddie saying something in his periphery, and he tries to write fast. To clear up any misunderstanding.

But then. Eddie goes too far. He manages to hit on one of Steve’s biggest insecurities mid-rant. And then he keeps digging at it. Steve stops writing and just… stares. Like a dog, Eddie cannot let go of the bone he’s found, so he keeps going. Insert any list of your favorite Steve insecurities here. His upbringing. His (bad) relationship with his parents. His reputation (which Steve hates so much). His intelligence. His fighting skills or lack thereof (poor Steve: getting beat up in every universe). And the worst part is how mean Eddie is about it. The kids tease Steve too, and yeah sometimes it hurts, but it’s never felt as outright cruel as it does when Eddie says it.

Steve’s eyes fill with tears, despite his best efforts, and while Eddie is mid sentence, Steve decides he’s had enough. He shoves his notepad at Eddie, into his chest, eliciting a surprised huffed exhale, before grabbing his bag and just running. He runs out the door, out of the building, to his car, and drives himself home. He doesn’t stop crying for hours.

Eddie, after the surprise of Steve shoving him and running out, just rolls his eyes. “Typical,” he mutters under his breath. “Fucking prick.”

He looks down at the notepad in his hands, still mad but also curious as to what Steve had thought was so important that he just had to start scribbling it down while Eddie yelled at him. And…

Not here to hurt, I swear. Dustin invited me. He’s like my little brother. I’m deaf - sorry couldn’t hear you talking. I’ve seen you around, and I think you’re pretty cool. I’ve never played DND before, but Dustin really loves it. Maybe I could-

That’s as far as it went. And man. Imagine the feeling of your heart sinking, dropping down past your stomach, through the ground itself before finally coming to a stop in the molten core of the earth. Imagine that, and you may experience a fraction of the almost instantaneous levels of guilt Eddie feels at that moment. All at once he thinks of how Steve had looked at him after he first got his attention. He had smiled. Fucking grinned. He was happy to see him. Happy to be there. Eager to see what Hellfire was all about. Eager to learn.

And Eddie had just taken that happiness, that earnest interest, and stomped on it. Crushed it utterly beneath his sneakers as if it were a cigarette butt.

The other guys start filing in. Including Dustin. But before he can say anything (maybe to ask where Steve is, and why the hell does Eddie have his notepad), Eddie shoves past them out the door.

“Eddie, what-“ Jeff starts.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he quickly makes his way outside. Just in time to see Steve’s car speeding out of the parking lot. He curses, loud enough that a few students still milling about jump at the unexpected noise. Eddie doesn’t care. He messed up. He really fucking messed up, didn’t he?

He makes it up to Steve eventually. It takes time, of course; Steve’s trust is a hard thing to earn even on a good day, but after that first encounter? They’re not just starting at zero; they’re practically starting at -1000. He starts small. Little exchanges here and there. Usually with Dustin (or, occasionally, Steve’s best friend Robin, who looks at Eddie like she would flay him alive if Steve gave her the word) acting as a sort of buffer. It takes almost half a dozen of these group encounters before Steve says (writes) a single word to him, and even then it’s perfunctory. Cold. Simple. And it definitely hurts, just a little, especially since Eddie’s crush that he’s had on Steve since freshman year has been steadily growing with every exchange they have. As monosyllabic (if even syllabic at all) as they tend to be on Steve’s part. But every time he feels that hurt, Eddie thinks of how Steve had looked at him when he left the club that day. How sad and angry and frustrated. And he pushes his own (tiny, inconsequential by comparison) hurt aside. I can do more, he thinks.

One day, he manages to corner Steve on his own, without Dustin or Robin. Steve is annoyed - he still gets that sinking feeling of hurt whenever he’s with Eddie (which is enhanced (terribly so) by the stupid crush he has), and immediately pulls out his notepad. Starts writing on it. Something simple and to the point. Leave Me Alone. Or maybe Go Away. He gets as far as the first word before he realizes that Eddie isn’t talking. Not aloud, anyway. No, he’s signing. A bit clumsily, and a few of the words are wrong but close enough to understand. One sign is chief among them, though.

I’m sorry.

And in that moment, maybe, it hits home for Steve that Eddie really means it. Means it enough to try and learn an entirely new language to meet Steve where he is. He looks in Eddie’s eyes and he can see the guilt and shame swimming there. The hurt is still in him, that’s not going away with one apology (though this isn’t the first one Eddie has given him, of course), but still. Steve scratches out what he had been writing in favor of something else. After a second, he hands Eddie the paper.

I can’t forgive you. Not yet. You really hurt me. But thank you. When did you start learning to sign?

He sees Eddie’s eyes get a little watery as he reads, but then he’s handed back the notepad. He had thought that Eddie might take the easier route and just write it down, but no. Instead, with his hands free, Eddie continues signing.

A couple days ago. Stayed up all night. His cheeks were darkening. Blushing in shame at his rudimentary skills. Bad at it. Sorry.

And maybe it’s just because Eddie is one of only a handful of people Steve has met that have taken it upon themselves to learn sign, or maybe it’s that damn crush he can’t seem to lose, but Steve shakes his head. No, he signs, trying to keep it simple. Good.

Eddie looks away, signing Bad again. Steve touches his hand, the first point of actual physical contact they’ve had since that day at the Hellfire Club. Their eyes meet, and Steve signs, with as much emphasis as he can, GOOD. And then, Thank You.

Eddie looks down, suddenly feeling oddly shy. He’s still blushing but he also can’t help but smile. There’s the ghost of a dimple on his cheek, making Steve’s heart give a weak little flutter.

You’re welcome, Eddie signs.

After a long moment, Steve writes something down. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Eddie with signs yet. Not to mention that he doesn’t know how deep his (apparently only days-old) knowledge base goes. Best to go easy on him.

Maybe we could… start over?

He holds it up for Eddie to read, face a picture of inquisitive hope. The other boy nods, starts trying to sign, but gets frustrated rather quickly before holding out his hand for the notepad. Steve chuckles and hands it over, not missing the way Eddie’s blush deepens even further at the sound he probably made. Maybe his crush isn’t as one-sided as he’d been thinking.

Yes! Absolutely! If we are, then consider this your “first” official invitation to the Hellfire Club. Today, after school. (There’s a “I” here but it’s scribbled out) We would love to have you there.

I’ll be there, Steve writes. And, after Eddie reads it, he makes sure to get the other boy’s attention before he slowly signs the same thing. I’ll be there.

[sweetgaleria]

hello tumblr user sweetgaleria!!!!! I just thought maybe u could use a reminder of what an AMAZING artist you are. honestly your art makes me smile SO much. a couple months ago when u posted that drawing of adrien simply standing there and being a whole entire cutie I was like dhdjdjDHJSSK💕💕💕 IT’S HIM. THAT’S MY BLORBO. I’m dead. Because holy cow do u make him the BLORBO-IEST. like. You just have this way of drawing faces that is So pleasing. Activates intense Cuteness Aggression in me. Makes me melt into a pile of goo. It’s just, like, this level of baby that seems like it should actually be unattainable, yet somehow, you attain it. You’re the master of little baby blorbos and I am crumbling at your feet about it. i do not know how else to describe it but that when you draw blorbos they are soooo blorbo shaped. Like there’s the exact amount of Beloved packed in there that there should be. The beloved is just baked into the crust. Mixed into the sauce. MAN UR ART STYLE IS JUST!!!!! SO CUTE!!!! AND SO GOOD!!!! I know this is like ancient by now and I wasn’t even around when you posted it but the first time I saw that post-reveal Christmas comic you did with the sweaters I was just like 😭😭😭😭 ohhhhh that was so soft I melted like butter dude. It’s still one of my favorite pieces of fanart in this fandom but you have grown a lot as an artist since then and it’s amazing to see!!!! You create beautiful things that make people (me, and also others but very much me) happy and that’s such a special gift to have. Your coloring always feels soooo warm and cozy, like a big hug 🥺 and whenever you post an animation my brain goes 💥💥💥 because it’s incredible!! It is honestly so cool and sexy of you to be a whole entire animator out here and I have no doubt you are gonna kill it in that career and make so many amazing things. I know school can be Rough, especially when it’s taking a lot out of you and you don’t have the time or energy to create :( but hang in there!! you will make things again! It’s not lost. If you’re not able to create right now that’s just bc your formidable powers are in charging mode. They got a little pooped out bc brains and bodies can only do so much but they’re charging up and you’ll be back to a full battery and it’s gonna feel so good. Be kind to yourself 💕 and remember that you are GOOD at this. you’re GREAT at it. your skills and talents are so impressive to me and the heart that goes into your work is what makes it truly special💜 please don’t feel pressure to draw or post if you aren’t up for it but whenever u do I will be extremely delighted,,,I am always so excited to see your art. I’m a sweetgaleria fan. anyway I hope you have a nice day!!

tumblr user carpisuns I've been reading this ask for so long and I still haven't found the proper way to say thank you??? These past few months haven't been the easiest in a number of ways, so your message really did make my week, thank you so so much <33 I don't think I have the mental capacity to reply to your message the way I wanted to, but I hope you know i am also a huge carpisuns fan, seeing your rambles and your doodles and your tags on everything is always so exciting and fun!!! You put a lot of love and care into the things you do, and that shows. I hope we can continue to see each other grow through the years!! And same goes to you!!!! You will be able to create again, you are AMAZING at what you do, and it's normal to feel like you can't draw or write the same way you used to. It's like exercise, once you stop, to get back into it you have to warm up for a while before catching up where you left off. I feel bad sometimes for not improving as fast as i'd like, but then again.. we have the whole rest of our lives to get good, you know? Theres fun in improvement, too And again, thank you so much for your message!! It really did make my week, my whole month even 😭🧡

[franeridart]

Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

[iovnyu]

aeipathy -- park sunghoon

PART ONE | PART TWO 

genre: ice skater! au, school boy sunghoon, fluff

warnings: cursing, tba

summary: as y/n is trying to juggle being a C student and working at a ice rink, she meets sunghoon - a figure skater with straight A’s who needs to prove his passion to his parents. they just so happened to be in each other’s lives at the right time.

a/n: hi !! this is my first one shot (?) i guess,,, so please be easy on me lol. im going to be making these in parts but i don’t know how long i want it so ig we will see!! but if u didn’t notice i am now taking requests for headcanons or oneshots so please look over the request guide here before requesting things!! also please let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this series !!

all that was heard was the crisp ice being broke in. y/n sat behind the check-in desk, on her phone playing a food game. she knew that she didn’t have to be aware of the boy on the ice since he came almost everyday to skate. 

although y/n did not know his name, she knew that he had always came at 4:45 -- right after school. he would have his duffel bag hanging off his right shoulder with his skates in his left hand, a tired smile on his face. it was always a mutual relationship, he would smile at y/n and she would smile back. 

it did bug her at times that she didn’t know his name. in her mind she called him the ice prince -- partly because he looks like a literal prince and he seemed like a pro when he stepped foot into the ice rink.

it was nearing 7 and y/n was slowly getting bored of losing her game. she had been stuck on one certain level for the longest time and could not find a way to a customer happy. 

y/n felt a sudden spark of confidence to ask the ice prince his name as he held onto the outskirts of the rink, catching his breath. getting up, she tried her best to flatten the wrinkles on her uniform that was caused by sitting in the same position for her whole shift. 

the sudden movement of y/n’s chair scooting back alarmed him. it was clear that he has never seen her move from her spot at the desk unless it was to close the rink. quickly, he skated off the rink and hopped onto the carpeted floor. 

looking up, he saw y/n walk closer to him and felt his heart beat faster. it definitely wasn’t because he thought she was pretty or anything -- he was just nervous because she looked like she was going to kick him out. y/n saw his fast movements and quicken her pace.

“i-uhm, i never got your name?” y/n blurted out as she reached him, out of breath. at times like this, she figures out why she can’t run for shit -- if she can’t even walk at a fast pace then how in the hell can she run?

looking up, he silently let out a sigh of relief. so she wasn’t trying to kick me out. 

“sunghoon. my name is sunghoon.” 

what the fuck. y/n was stunned to say the least. he had a pretty face and a pretty name?? that is a literal gift from the gods. meanwhile she is there with a boring name. y/n. out of all the names her parents could have picked, they picked y/n. 

knocking back into reality, y/n saw sunghoon looking at her. “oh, i’m sorry. what did you say?” she said, embarrassed because he basically caught her in the act of admiring him. 

“uhm. wh-what’s your name?” sunghoon asked, tilting his head in a puppy like manor. 

ohmygodgodgodoohhhhh

“y/n. it’s-it’s on my shirt” y/n looked down and moved her hair out of the way. “see!”

sunghoon nodded. he had already knew her name but he didn’t want to sound like a creep and scare her. he had been here for a long time so, it was natural for him to memorize the employees’ names. 

y/n’s had stuck with him the most. to him, it sounded unique. it rolled off the tongue in a perfect way -- almost like it was honey. 

smiling, sunghoon pointed to the rink. “so do you come here often?” 

shit shit shit of course she comes here often dumbshit-- SHE WORKS HERE

“oh! i-i mean uhm...” sunghoon said embarrassed. “you know what? i’ll see you tomorrow. sorry.” he said while quickly grabbing his bag and zoomed to the doors. 

“okay!! have a nice night!” y/n yelled to him. 

looking down, she noticed he had left something behind. bending down, she picked up a heavy book that looked like it weighed like the declaration of independence. 

flipping it over and examining it, she discovered that it was a math book with messy writing over the front cover. “park sunghoon’s math book” the pages were scattered with random doodles and formulas that looked too long to remember.

y/n looked back up to see if sunghoon was standing outside but she was met with the sun slowly setting. oh shit i need to get home 

she ran to the changing room and quickly took off her uniform and changed into the clothes she came in with. making sure everything was in her bag, she took a quick glance around the rink and behind the desk. 

well it looks ... okay

grabbing her bag, y/n looked to sunghoon’s math book. if i have time before school tomorrow, i’ll give it to him.... he probably needs it, it is exam season anyways.

she grabbed his math book and ran to the door, locking it so no annoying teenagers break in and play in the rink. it has happened before and y/n’s boss gave her a earful the next day, she was not willing to hear him yelling at her again.

y/n sped walked to her tiny honda car that she had named roxy. roxy has been there for y/n through almost all of her high school life. y/n believed that roxy was on her last straw when she broke down a few months ago, but she had managed to still work properly. i mean, she still drove properly. it is the thought that counts right?

arriving at her house she saw her mom’s car already parked in the driveway. shit i am so dead

getting out of her car, she silently prayed that her mother had just gotten home. she walked towards the door and opened the door, “hello, my beautiful mother. how has thee day been for thee highness?” 

“it’s okay, y/n. im not gonna kill you because you came home late from work.” y/n’s mom said, laughing. 

walking into the kitchen, y/n saw her packing food for the morning. “how was work?” y/n asked, grabbing chips from the snack cabinet.

“it was okay. nothing really happened. how was the ice rink?” 

“ehh, nothing special.” y/n shrugged. “i’m gonna go do homework now, please pray for me.”

“will do, honey.” her mother laughed. 

bringing her stuff to her room, she laid the math book on her desk. assuming that sunghoon probably lived somewhere near by, she began to rack her brain for any schools near by that uses the same math book. the math book looked like it was for sophisticated students. he definitely does not go to a public school

he does wear uniform when he comes in .... fuck

there was only two private schools in y/n’s neighborhood. she decided she is going to chance it and try to wake up early tomorrow to attempt finding sunghoon. why the hell am i trying so hard to give him his book....

“it’s just a damn book. it’s not like he needs it tomorrow right? wait -- he might have a math test tomorrow.... shit.” y/n said eyeing the book.

it can’t hurt to give it to him... right?

[ddaengyoonmin]

-Part One-

Pairing: University student!Jimin x camboy!Hoseok (low key jungkook x Namjoon)

Rating: M/18+

Smut- Angst with a Happy ending-

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings/tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, sub/dom dynamics(later chapters), masturbation/mutual masturbation, shy!jimin, porn talk, swearing, slight secondhand embarrassment maybe?

Summary: Jimin overhears his classmates discussing their friend and his job as a camboy. The amount of money Hoseok makes in a night catches his attention, and he tunes in to see what this man is all about...

A/n: I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback on this series and if you think I should keep it going! I have plans for more depending on if we like this series (:

——————

“How much?”

The quiet voice was almost overlooked by the group of four men all huddled around one desk.

Jimin felt his cheeks growing instantly hot.  

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.  He couldn’t help it.

The men were all gathered around the desk behind him and talking far too loud for him to not at least catch some of what they were saying.

And what he did hear...

Who could not want to know?

Even if it was Park Jimin, the shy and focused student who’d never said a word in this class to anyone besides the professor.

Though, as soon as five pairs of eyes were all turned on him he started to feel maybe speaking up had been a mistake.

Jimin gulped hard, probably loudly.  He couldn’t hear anything besides a bit of ringing in his ears.

“More than you make in months buddy.” replied one of the men, the shortest of the group, a glossy eyed man with a sleepy face, wearing a casual black hoodie and sporting bleached blonde hair that looked as if he’d still just hopped out of the shower.  His comment seemed to be rude on first take, but Jimin had a feeling that the boy was simply answering his question.  

“I-It’s just.  That’s an insane amount of money for one night...I’ve never heard of anyone being able to do anything like that.  It sounds...fake? Are you sure your friend isn’t pulling your leg?” Jimin chuckled, but he choked on his words a bit, still very nervous to be talking to an entire group of men he’d never spoken with before.  And about this no less.

“It's not.  I’ve watched in on it.” another man in the group spoke this time.  Jungkook.  Jimin did know him, just his name at least.  Everyone did.

He’d had a moment at this university the previous year that almost got him expelled and it had actually gotten on the news.  He spent the summer away, getting some sort of help that he needed and through the rumor mill Jimin had heard he was doing okay.

In a city as big as the one Jimin lived in, news fades fast and it was quickly let go of.  Minus the occasional snicker when Jungkook entered a large room, no one brought it up to him.

He widened his eyes and tried to show Jimin his honesty.  Jimin felt the sincerity in the puppy dog eyes of the dark haired boy speaking with him.  They really weren’t fucking with him.

Jimin had known porn was good money, but to hear that was how much their friend had made in tips in a night being a “cam boy” was not expected.

Not even half of the number they’d said is what Jimin had been expecting.  That was more money than Jimin's rent...in a day.  He still couldn’t believe it.

He told himself it couldn’t be helped that he bit his lip and thought a few seconds too long on whether or not that amount of money could sway a person like himself to consider something so…

Bold? Terrifying? Frowned upon?

There were many words to describe what Jimin’s preconceived notions on this line of work were.

“He’s not shy about cute guys looking in on him,” Jungkook chuckled pulling his phone out of his pocket, “Do you wanna know his cam name? Watch one of his shows if you don’t believe me.  I’m thought of as many things already I’d hate to add being a liar to that list.”

If Jimin’s cheeks hadn’t been noticeably red before, they were now.

“T-that’s fine…” He stuttered, trying to stop the taller boy from walking over by waving a hand quickly at him.

Jungkook paused mid step gesturing his hands to go along with an exaggerated halt and freeze in place.  A somehow charismatic yet goofy move that almost made Jimin break a smile.

“You sure?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

Jimin nodded and turned back to face the front of the classroom.

“Thanks though!” he snapped his head back around quickly, not wanting to be rude.

Jungkook gave a thin but sincere smile his long wavy hair bouncing as he nodded towards Jimin.  

The group returned to discussing more things about this friend of theirs.

Hoseok was what they had called him.  Occasionally the name Hobi came from the lips of a couple of them, but Jimin assumed that was a nickname.  It was a cute nickname.

Something about it made Jimin smile to himself and he realized he’d now been doodling flowers on his class notes.  He used to do that quite a bit back when he was younger in school.  It’d been a while.

Getting to daydream on the thought of this Hoseok and his luxurious and confident lifestyle as a cam-boy had Jimin feeling like he had a new superhero.

Jimin was a plain person, that was how he viewed himself.

His father’s job had his family moving every summer so he hadn’t ever made lasting friends.  In fact, the past two years he’d been staying at this university was the longest he’d stayed in one place since he was a child.

He sighed and noticed his doodles had gone all over his page and he was running out of room.

The professor finally arrived, and looked to the group of boys who were still gathered behind Jimin.

“Hello! I appreciate your interest in creative writing class, maybe you can sign up next semester!” He spoke in a sarcastic tone as he waved them out.

The one from the group still sitting at his desk must be the only one actually in the class, Jimin assumed.  Not surprised at himself for being a month into school and not noticing anyone.

Not noticing things, and not being noticed had been a habit for Jimin.  It kept him from getting attached to one place too long.  From any person too long.

The one from the group still at the desk had never come onto Jimin's radar.  He didn’t even know his name.  He was an interesting looking person, messy hair that looked wet just like the blonde man’s hair had, though he had a wavy mop of brown hair instead.

The group made their way out the door, passing Jimin's desk on their way.  One of them that hadn’t spoken to him stood out to Jimin, an even taller man with the sides of his head shaved and his blonde hair slicked back had his arm around Jungkook now.

The two stopped at Jimin's desk.  He felt his entire body tense up and he slowly lifted his head to meet them.

Jungkook chuckled and slipped a piece of paper under the bottom of Jimin’s notebook.

He hung his jaw and his mouth was wide open waiting for words to come out to protest, but nothing came.

“Just check him out.” Jungkook winked and then the taller man tightened his grip on him and turned with him to walk away, chuckling and shaking his head at his partner.

“You’re like his fucking pimp.” The sleepy looking man laughed as he shook his head.

The group of them left, chatting and laughing the whole way out the door.

Jimin’s eyes followed them the whole way out before snapping back down to the paper under his notebook.

The friend left behind leaned forward and tapped Jimin on the shoulder.

“Sorry about them.” He laughed.  He was leaning so far forward that Jimin thought he might topple over. “I’m Taehyung by the way!” He was actually extending out his hand to shake Jimin’s.  

That was genuinely amusing and he couldn’t help but find this man absolutely goofy and adorable.  

“Jimin.” He replied, cautiously putting his hand in the other man’s.  “That’s cool you shake hands.” He spoke awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah?” Taehyung simply cocked an eyebrow at him, returning to his seat and turning silent.

The professor called everyone to attention and the class began.

Jimin worried that his last comment had been strange and spent the entire lesson overthinking just that.

Completely forgetting the small slip of paper still sitting under his notebook.

After class was over Jimin stood and started to gather his things. He was tapped on the shoulder again and he turned to once again see Taehyung.

“Are you gonna do it?” Taehyung asked, his voice in a slight excited song, as if he was a young school boy talking to another about a dare.

“You’re quite nosy.” Jimin returned, awkwardly reaching for the note Jungkook had slipped him and putting it in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Says the man listening in while we talk about our friend stripping online.” Taehyung laughed.

“Fair.” Jimin laughed nervously, bringing his hand up to slide through his long dirty blonde hair that could use a bit of touch up as his dark roots were coming in. “I was more interested in the money than your friend.  To clear things up.” Jimin threw the words out quickly.

Taehyung had slung his bag over his shoulder and was now walking past Jimin.

“Sure.” He winked, shaking his head and laughing.

Jimin reached into his back pocket after Taehyung had cleared the room and he was sure no one was looking over his shoulder.  He pulled out the rolled up note and slowly unwrapped it with his hands.  Jimin wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but something about this had his heart thudding.

He’d watched porn a few times.  If you count ‘googling “ass” online and panicking when the first pop-up ad came up’ watching porn.  Then yes.  Jimin had seen porn.  There was nothing to be nervous about, he continued to assure himself.  It was only the name.  It's not like a naked picture of the man was going to drop out of it.

He took a deep breath in and opened it all the way.

J-hope

He exhaled quite loudly and chuckled.  He didn’t know why he was expecting something like “dick pumper6969” to be on the paper in front of him, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was more of a stage name.

That fact though certainly didn’t make Jimin any less intimidated.

Was he really thinking about doing this?

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

Yes.  

He was.

Now back at his solo dorm that he’d landed thanks to his father’s deep canyon of a wallet, Jimin was relaxed in his bed.

Fully clothed in his light blue plaid pajama bottoms and a loose grey t-shirt.  Jimin had been very clear with himself he wasn’t going to jack off.  No.  This was for research.

Jungkook hadn’t given this to him for that reason.  That talk about “J-hope” liking cute guys watching him was a joke right?  

Maybe all of this was a joke…

Jimin almost shut the laptop in front of him in panic.  The light blue glow of the screen was the only thing lighting up the room.  Lighting up Jimin’s nervous quivering lips as he typed the name into the search bar on the site that Jungkook had listed under it.

It was almost too easy how quickly he was able to locate him.  A small part of Jimin had wished that there was no J-hope and that this was just a weird moment in life he could forget about.

But,  the small thumbnail popped right under Jimin's cursor as if by fate.

He could see a screen captured image of a man with a beautiful smile, the biggest he’d ever seen, and also the biggest… holy…

Jimin slammed the laptop quickly.  It closed with a smack and Jimin was a bit nervous he’d cracked his screen.

Though the main thing on his mind was…

That…

Jimin felt himself almost involuntarily gulp.

He’d always been sure of his sexuality, he knew that girls weren’t his preferred attraction, but he did find some quite beautiful, and he’d also learned that men made him blush more than he’d ever thought possible.

On both accounts he was a nervous wreck.  Maybe that's why he was still a virgin.

Maybe that's why when he saw that on the screen he almost forgot how to breath.

He’d never seen a cock that beautiful.

Of course he hadn’t seen many.  But even if someone hadn’t seen many…

What Jimin had just seen was something to behold.

J-hope had been sitting shirtless in a large black leather chair that seemed to be rolled up to his desk his laptop and camera were sitting on.

Jimin’s eyes didn’t have much time to linger on the bedroom decor before they snapped front and center to the middle of J-hope’s thumbnail.  He was flexing slightly, his toned abs curling in slightly as his hand was gripping his long and hard length.  Jimin found himself thinking that it was honestly one of the most glorious things he’d ever witnessed.

He was tempted to open the laptop back up.  But he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to jack off while watching Jungkook and Taehyung’s friend.  

He already felt slightly pervy from how much he was turned on, and how hard his own cock already was now while picturing J-hope’s fingers wrapped around his dick.  Picturing only seconds ago when he was curling them around the base, his thumb had only been just barely resting against his middle finger.  Jimin gulped.  He needed to see more.

The laptop was back on his lap and slowly and cautiously being opened.

Now back on the page, Jimin was giving himself a small pep talk.  This gorgeous man was behind a screen and so was he.   There was no reason to be nervous.

He was already on the page where J-hope's thumbnail still showed his room.  Jimin felt quick fluttering against the inside of his chest and took a few more deep breaths to calm himself down.  His curiosity was stronger than his nervousness.  

 All he needed to do was one *Click*

Jimin gasped slightly, it seemed his fingers decided to just go for it.

Now, much larger and much closer, the image of J-hope seemed to smile right in at Jimin in his own bedroom.  As if he was looking right at him, his dark and heavy lidded eyes stared directly into the camera as he slowly gave shallow pumps with his hand to the base of his cock.

Jimin gulped once more.

Suddenly there was a loud sound of a bell that had Jimin nearly jumping out of his bed in surprise.  His hand quickly shot to turn his volume down a few notches, and he caught a glimpse of a message on the screen.

Next to the large video of J-hope that was taking up half of the screen, was a chat room.  The newest message was highlighted in a bright blue, the username was long and almost unreadable with lots of numbers.   Another number stood out to Jimin though.  After the username was written : tipped 4000 tokens.

The smiling man on screen leaned forward towards the camera.

Jimin couldn’t help but squeak in response to the slow wink and lip bite that he performed while making eye contact with the camera.  Again, Jimin couldn’t help but feel like he was looking directly at him.  

He was so good.  He literally was shining charisma out of every pore.  If he even had pores…

Jimin was starting to think there were no flaws to be found in him.  It was intimidating, and sexy, and definitely not helping the situation that  had grown in Jimin’s pants that he was desperately trying to ignore.

He decided to tear his eyes away from the man on his laptop and to look up what that 4000 token tip had actually meant.

Then he looked it up on at least five other sites before finally believing that yes.  In just the couple minutes Jimin had been tuned in J-hope had already almost made what Jimin made in a week at his part time job. In one tip.

His jaw hung open and his eyes shot back to the screen to watch as more tips were rolling in.  Some only 1 token at a time, some by the hundreds.  

J-hope had returned to leaning back in his chair, relaxing as he stroked himself.  Occasionally he bit at his lip, he’d let it roughly roll between his teeth, letting out low breathy grunts.

Jimin was hypnotized by it now.  He didn’t know what to be more in awe of.  The complete god in front of him to the left, or the constant incoming stream of money that he was making.

“I’m getting close, where should I cum?” He spoke.

It was the first time he’d spoken.  And *those* were the filthy words falling from his lips.

Jimin felt himself almost cum in his pajama pants right then.

The largest amount of tokens Jimin had seen him receive yet came in along with a message from the tipper saying “In hand,  Then show.”

J-hope’s messy and now damp hair was clinging to his forehead in the sexiest way.  He gave one small nod to the camera.  

Then threw his head back parting his mouth as he let out a few more louder moans, he’d been edging himself for quite some time and it was obvious by his now shaking thighs that he wasn’t going to last for much longer.

The entire chat was filled with tips, from 1 token all the way to 1000.

Jimin didn’t quite mean to do what he did next.  More so he’d like to think that he had no control over the way his hands moved the laptop off of his lap.  Or the way that they quickly slid into his pajama pants and tugged at his own hard and aching cock needily along with J-hope.

Like the man had him in a trance, Jimin's eyes could not leave the screen and hips were now lifting slightly off the bed.  His lips were hung open in a part and his tongue was begging to taste the man on the other side of the screen and his hand was quickly and desperately moving up and down his length as he stared in awe.

At the same time both men let out a loud moan.  The other man in more of a growl, and Jimin falling into a series of whimpers and whines.

Jimin felt his body shake as he finally reached the high he’d been chasing.  It was like nothing he’d felt before.  To know that the man on the other side of the screen was live meant they’d actually just came together at the same time.  

Jimin started to feel somewhat special about that fact before he quickly came back to the reality that more than likely so had many other people watching this man.  Something close to jealousy prickled in Jimin’s chest for a moment, and he decided to shove it deep down and go back to paying attention to the very naked man still in front of him on his screen.

J-hope was giving the camera the perfect angle of his cock as it twitched, his hand that was not still wrapped around and milking out his cum was messily catching all he could and pooling it in his hand.

Jimin’s eyes still hadn’t left for a moment.  Having just came inside his pajama pants he now felt like a completely dirty mess, he could feel the sticky heat against his inner thigh now dripping down. But he didn’t want to get up to clean himself up.  Not while J-hope was still online, he couldn’t tear himself away.

Jimin knew it was likely just the lingering effects of the comedown of a great cum...but watching J-hope’s casual way of smirking and cockily joking with the members in the chat had him feeling like he was falling in love.  

Or maybe that was the point wasn’t it?

Jimin now realized the obvious, all of these other users on here were likely falling under the same infatuation.  

That’s what made him so good.

J-hope continued to chat with the members in his room for a bit and Jimin watched every moment of it until he said his goodbyes.

At the end of the night the man that Jungkook and his friends had told him about really had made more than what Jimin could hope to make in an entire month.

He’d also managed to leave Jimin a mess in his bed in a matter of minutes.  With both of those things together Jimin knew his interest in this man wouldn’t be going away for a long time.

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

A few days later Jimin was heading back into his class he shared with Taehyung.  He was feeling a bit nervous that Taehyung would ask him how it went, or if Jungkook would be there to follow through on whether or not he looked in at it.

Another part of him also hoped they’d just forgotten about it, maybe it really was normal for Jungkook to just randomly try and gain his friend new viewers and they wouldn’t even remember Jimin was one of them.

He walked into the class nervously, keeping his head down as usual, until he got to his seat, noticing an extra figure gathered around Taehyung's desk with the group that had been there before.

No...It couldn’t be…

Jimin sat down in his seat quickly and turned his head to face front, even though nothing was occurring at the front of the class, he acted like the blank whiteboard in front of him had the most interesting information he’d ever learned on it.

Because, behind him right now was Hoseok.

His stomach was filled with butterflies and his mind was spinning so fast he felt a bit dizzy.

The group had fallen hush when Jimin walked in, he heard a small chuckle from Jungkook and felt as if all the eyes had turned to him.

“Him?”

Jimin heard a soft whisper from a familiar voice say.  

He silently prayed that they were talking about anything else but him.  Though that seemed to be quite a big reach.

He gulped and pretended not to notice, pulling out his notebook and trying to go about class as usual.

There was a soft chuckle from Hoseok and another boy tsk’d and said “He’s shy huh?”

Jimin choked on a sharp breath he’d been taking in and tried to play it off as clearing his throat, still trying his best to not turn around, to pretend that this embarrassing moment wasn't happening.

Suddenly the empty seat next to him was being filled by the last person he wanted from the group to approach him.

Hoseok was wearing casual sweatpants and a red jacket that read the name of their university along with “swim team” on it.  That explained the wet messy hair of the group he’d always noticed.

Hoseok was also rocking a damp and tousled look, more beautiful than anything Jimin had ever seen.  He was casually propping his head up with his hand, his elbow relaxed on the desk in front of him as he grinned at Jimin.

“Hi.” His sweet silky voice spoke.  

Jimin shouldn’t have been startled, he’d noticed him sit down, yet he almost jumped out of his skin still.  Wide-eyed he turned to face the man sitting beside him.

He was already laughing and shaking his head, seeming very amused by Jimin’s jumpiness.

“So I’m assuming you recognize me.” He smirked and winked at Jimin, who was now thoroughly mortified.

Why in the world would he bring that up so casually.  It was only a theory but now Jimin definitely knew Jungkook had told his friend about the shy boy he’d given his name out to.

“I-I-I” Was the only thing Jimin could let out from his quivering lips.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow.  “Oh god.” He laughed “So yes.” he winked at him.  Bringing back memories from the night Jimin had seen him wink so charismatically at his camera, and memories of....

No. He can't think of that right now.  Not with him right next to him.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jimin managed out.

Hoseok shifted back in his seat a bit now crossing his arms, “You’re sorry? Why’s that?”

He was so relaxed and confident and just everything Jimin felt that he wasn’t.

“I’m sorry I looked, your friends...they said…” Jimin shook his head, not even wanting to finish.  He looked down to his lap, not able to meet the other man’s eyes.

Hoseok belly laughed at that.  

“Nothing to be sorry for.  I’ve told them they can do that.  I obviously don’t hate people watching.” He winked again.

Jimin nodded, still unsure of what Hoseok was doing here talking to him, it seemed almost as if he just wanted to embarrass him, to get a reaction from him.

“Okay.” Jimin said simply, briefly meeting Hoseok's beautiful and amused gaze.

“They also said you were really interested in the money aspect of it all.” He spoke more seriously. “Did you wanna ask me anything about it?”

“Oh!” Jimin suddenly squeaked out. “Yeah...that's really all I was wondering, I’m really sorry if this came off weird.”  seizing his opportunity to deflect from the fact that he’d definitely watched this man cum before.

But instead of matching his now more confident way of speaking, Hoseok's face seemed to fall slightly.

“Ah, yeah that was all.” He muttered, his lips curled up into a tiny smirk, almost a fake smile as if he was trying to hide some form of disappointment he was feeling. He shook his head.  “Nothing weird about any of it.”

They were both quiet for only a few seconds, that felt like hours to Jimin.

“Can...Can I ask how much you make in a month on there?” Jimin asked to hopefully keep conversation with Hoseok, who didn’t seem to be wanting to leave and return to his friends who had all gone back into talking about swim practice or something Jimin could barely hear.

Hoseok told him and laughed at the way Jimin’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Hoseok smiled that confident smile at him. “Have you ever thought about trying it?”

Jimin returned with a nervous laugh. “Oh no.  i could never.”  he then added in a “No offence” in case Hoseok took that as an insult.

“I’m not confident like you.”

Without a moment's hesitation Hoseok was grabbing Jimin by the chin and turning his face left to right, snatching the breath right out from Jimin’s lungs as he did.

He looked Jimin over and up and down.

“Sometimes when you’re that cute you don’t even need confidence.  Some guys like the shy thing.” Hoseok then retracted his hand back, leaving Jimin to sit in pure astonishment at his touch.  Jimin could still feel his soft fingertips against his chin even after he’d pulled away, and his mouth was now hanging open slightly.

“I-I’m not…” Without the distraction of his touch, he now realized what Hoseok had actually said.

“You are.” Hoseok spoke as if it was an unarguable fact.

At that moment the professor got there and the group of men behind them started to gather their things to leave.

“Hobi!” one of them called out, motioning for their friend it was time to go.

He nodded a small nod to the tall man who’d spoken, the one that seemed to be Jungkook’s boyfriend, and then turned back to Jimin.

“If you wanna talk more about it…” He gently took Jimin’s hand in his, taking his breath right from him again, he put a small piece of paper in his hand and took his other hand to gently curl Jimin's fingers closed around it.

He then stood up and followed his friends down the side of the classroom to leave, they seemed to be teasing him about their interaction, which made Jimin blush as he stared on.

Hoseok gave one last look his way before leaving, his smile was so genuine and pure.

Forgetting that one friend of his was still left behind him, Jimin let out an airy sigh and unrolled the paper in his hand.

“So he gave you his number?” Taehyung chuckled, “That's so Hobi.”

Indeed on the paper was a phone number with the name Hobi and a heart drawn over the dot on the “i”.

‘That's so Hobi’.  

So he did this type of thing often.  Jimin tried to not get a big head about it, the man was probably just a flirt trying to make more money on his cam site right?

That or he always used it as his go-to pick up line.  Either way, Jimin didn’t feel like entertaining someone who might be a player.  He felt his heart sink a bit at that.

Once again he’d found himself starting to feel special for this man’s attention, when it was likely only the act he gave everyone.

He wouldn’t text him.

[philliamwrites]

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.02]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 3.5k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla,“ sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia’s hands.

Notes: Part 1

Masterlist

Chapter 2

At the barracks’ canteen reigns the unspoken rule that no one is allowed to cook borsch, and trying to do so is punished by cleaning all windows with cold water only in the middle of the night. Can’t see anything because the nights at the outskirts of Zapolyarny are blacker than out in the taiga? Tough luck. There are so many different recipes as there are families out there, and everyone has their very own way to make it. Fatui agents have brought each other to the hospital wing over fighting which recipe is the best, therefore a couple of years before Tartaglia and you enrolled, this rule was established.

Sitting out in the cold of Jaroslawk at four in the morning, you’d kill for a hot bowl of your mamochka’s borsch—the best in Morepesok even though Tartaglia begs to differ, but the only problem with his claim is that he is fucking wrong.

Through your binoculars you see everything is quiet and dark on the other side of the compound, which is a good sign. Unfortunately, good also means very boring. You’ve been lying in the exact same position for nearly three hours now: on your belly, elbows slightly propping your upper body to see the Baron’s estate that’s embraced by a forest like a mother cradling its child. Tales have it if you make even one little mistake inside those cold brick walls, Baron Igor would personally see to it that you don’t leave these woods alive and whatever his hellish guard dogs don’t finish eating up, his servants would send to your family as a small parting gift and warning to get as far and fast away as possible.

If only he were as thorough covering his tracks as he is scaring people, but Baron Igor has never really excelled at multiple things and now, months after the first little bird brought some interesting insight, you can’t wait for Baron Igor to finally slip and confirm the rumours about him selling information on one of Il Dottore’s gun research labs to a spy from Sumeru. Intel has it exchanges usually occur once every full moon and with the orb now hidden behind thick, black clouds, this is the last chance to get some evidence before the ship leaving to Sumeru carries whoever deserves a knife in their windpipe back to their God of Wisdom.

Baron Igor has messed up, got too arrogant, and now you and your team are here to make sure he eats up his mess. It wasn’t easy to infiltrate his mansion. Mitsuki only passed because you took out two of the other contesters for one of the Baron’s favourite restaurants down in Nowobirsk. That man bows to greed and when introduced to the place’s new maître d’hôtel—the best of his kind, the most exotic to own during their flimsy ceasefire with Inazuma—Baron Igor acted swiftly and hired him. Mitsuki had gagged at those words while lieutenant Scaramouche had shown the patience of a man barely holding himself back from violence. Two days later, Mitsuki took his position as spy and head waiter of the Baron’s personal restaurant taking up the whole second floor in the right wing of his stone mansion.

“Fuck me, I look like a penguin,” Mitsuki had said on the night before his work began at the estate, glaring at himself in the mirror dressed in a sharply tailored tuxedo.

“Then we know who to call if Baron Igor decides to open a zoo,” Mikhail had said, but he was in no hurry to turn away his appreciative gaze from how tight Mitsuki’s black pants tugged his slim legs and ass.

That’s the team, Mitsuki, you and Mikhail—Lock, Shock and Barrel, one of your fellow division’s comrade likes to call you for unknown reasons, simply laughing to himself and shaking his head as if trying to get rid of a good memory. Though for all that Scaramouche is concerned, to him you’re triple double and a clusterfuck he doesn’t want anywhere near him or so help him Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, he’ll stake your heads and scatter your remains to the seagulls terrorising the coast of Port Odessa.

“He loves us,” Mikhail likes to joke, even though you aren’t sure the words love and Scaramouche should be used in one sentence.

“One day, he’ll kill one of us with his bear hands and feel nothing,” Mitsuki commonly remarks, sounding like whatever you’d do to receive such a punishment is probably ghastly enough to justify being murdered.

“His hat is pretty neat,” is usually your only contribution and they both look at you as if you’re crazy.

“Any movement?” a voice asks from your right. Mikhail shakes still fresh snow from his head and shoulders as he dugs under the narrow doorway, looking like a puppy trying to shake itself dry. Now that a year has passed since a Geo Vision user crushed his right arm and healers had to amputate it to save his life, he’s adapted pretty well to only one arm and hand at his disposal. He’s balancing a cup in his palm while holding two paper bags with his fingers and somehow makes it look easy. He rejoins you at the window, carefully placing the steaming cup and one bag in front of you. You hand him your binoculars so he can see for himself, and inspect your breakfast. “Do I even want to know where you found,” you peak inside the bag, “pirozhky at a time like this?”

“Couple of blocks down there’s this place. Really nice lady, gave me one for free and added a little extra to our coffee.”

You take a sip, and instantly begin coughing and pounding your chest as it goes down burning. “Archons, that’s disgusting. Who in their right mind puts Fire-Water in their coffee?”

“I know, right?” Mikhail beams. “It’s genius.”

It’s ghastly. You take another sip. Horrible, really. But it keeps you warm and awake. So maybe it isn’t that bad at all.

While Mikhail observes the area, you dig into your beef and onion pirozhky. There’s nothing fun about pulling an all-nighter but sometimes sharing a cup of coffee and eating warm food helps to get through them. Also knowing someone suffers with you. Sharing pain is gain, after all.

“Well, they sure like taking their sweet time,” Mikhail mumbles, getting a little more comfortable on the cold stone ground. He puts the binoculars away and digs into his own food. “What are we gonna do if nothing happens today?”

“Then we’ll come back next month and do it all over again.” Hopefully you don’t have to. Fyrva’snezh was two weeks ago but this winter started off particularly brutal. Two out of three units are still missing from their outskirts training and you don’t want to be in the poor lasses’ and lads’ shoes who are still at the infirmary recovering from severe hypothermia. “What worries me more is that Mitsuki might lose his sanity if he stays there another whole month.”

“Well, what doesn’t kill him makes him stronger,” Mikhail says, wiping his greasy fingers off his pants. “I just want to wipe that smug smirk off the Baron’s pig face.”

He and probably every citizen populating Jaroslawk. “Once Mitsuki locates the communication point, we’ll go in and neutralise the target if we can’t catch him alive,” you say. “Baron Igor will try and weasel his way out of it but so far all evidence stands against him. The rest is up to Her Majesty.” And the Tsaritsa is known for many things, but mercy isn’t one of them. That will show anyone else trying to make business behind her back.

“Do you really think Mitsuki will endure another month in that stupidly tight uniform?” Mikhail sounds like he very much wished for another month out in the cold like this if it meant Mitsuki would bless him for a while longer wearing his uniform.

You stretch your leg and kick him in his shin. “Don’t jinx this, Nozhyalensky,” you say. “No matter how good his ass looks in those pants, it isn’t worth freezing your own ass off out in this cold. If we have to extend our mission, I’m going to steal your coat and own it for the whole time.”

“You don’t care if I freeze to death?”

“I really don’t.”

He puts his hand on his heart in mock despair. “That’s harsh.”

It would be his own fault, no hard feelings. You sit in silence, sharing your scalding hot coffee. In the mansion on the other side, a light flickers on in the east wing. Mikhail shifts and makes a disgusted grunt. “I did not want to know the Baron is banging the Duchess of Pavlovich.”

“Might be good leverage in the future.” You quickly dot it down in your notebook, squinting at the barely illuminated page. “Especially if the Duke refuses to pay his taxes again. I’m sure we can get to him through her.”

More minutes pass in silence. Mikhail continues his watch while you start to mindlessly doodle a little Foul Legacy Child in the corner of your page. You wonder what time it is in Liyue. Is Childe also out on a mission or tugged in and sleeping well in a land that knows nothing of harsh winds and freezing nights. Does he spare a thought of home? Is he missing you as much as you miss him or has he already filled the gnawing void with faceless, warm women that comfort him at night?

“Heard anything from our comrades in Liyue?” Mikhail asks nonchalantly, but he’s always been the poorest liar of you three and it’s pretty obvious where this conversation is going. Part of you hungers for that conflict.

“They still can’t find whoever killed the Geo Archon. But Lord Childe might have located the Gnosis and has begun his infiltration.”

Chances are good he might succeed in another month or so, though from the letters you’ve received so far, it sounds like he might succeed fucking the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor before that. Tartaglia has never started anything serious with guys before, safe from occasionally drunk making outs, but new cultures could change a lot in you and it’s Tartaglia’s first time staying for so long in Liyue and meeting a man like this so called Zhongli.

Mikhail clicks his tongue in disgust. “I can’t believe this guy is over there for three months already and is still nowhere near finishing the job.” He spits at the ground and twists his mouth in a very familiar manner of annoyance—only usually this expression is meant for initiate Fatui members who can’t tell a shotgun from a sniper rifle.

“How can you still be mad at him for handing you your ass three years ago,” you say. A man’s ego is such a frail thing, thank the Tsaritsa for being a strong, independent woman.

“This isn’t about that stupid fight,” Mikhail splutters, red blotches creeping up his neck. His inability to lie is abysmal. “I don’t get how you stand that guy. His arrogance needs its own giant room to fit inside. Someone needs to knock him down a peg or two and maybe beat out this need to whore around as well—”

You move in a flash. Mikhail doesn’t have any time to react before he finds himself on his back, pinned down by your weight with a knife to his throat. “Mikhail, I love you like my own kin and you know I’d take a bullet for you any time,” you growl. “But speak another filthy word about Childe and I will cut off your tongue and feed it to street dogs while watching you bleed out like a slaughtered pig. Are we clear?”

You feel Mikhail’s chest rising and falling under your spread hand, his body warm, proof of his life. How easy it would be to take it from him, to warm the cold, dirty ground with his blood.

Mikhail’s dark eyes don’t give away anything. He’s holding very still, like a cornered animal faced with its hunter; don’t move and maybe it thinks one is dead. Eventually, he says quietly, “If you could see what an unlikeable, unpleasant person he really is, maybe...” He doesn't finish. There is no need to. You know very well what point he’s trying to make.

“I don’t need your supervision,” you say. “Or your pity.”

Mikhail barks a loud, humourless laugh. “Lassie, if I had an ounce of pity left for anyone else than myself, I wouldn’t be very good at this job, would I?”

You shift your weight. Mikhail groans as you put pressure on a wound a Pyro Vision user inflicted on him a week ago that hasn’t fully healed yet—a favour for Mikhail to prevent him from following his train of thought. You don’t know what is worse: His unrequited love for Mitsuki or Tartaglia and you knowing what you both want but can’t have.

Mikhail quietly says your name and gently lowers your hand. The sharp knife has bit into his skin just enough to leave a fine, red line on his throat. “All I’m saying is, I am not the bad guy here.”

He is right, of course. But that makes it even worse, because without a bad guy, who could you put blame on? Who would be the target of your frustration and your scorn? Who would pay for countless sleepless nights wasted alone or in a stranger’s arms?

If there is no good, no bad side, no villains or heroes to put blame on, what does that leave for you? Just the law. It is hard, but it is the law.

There is no one but yourself who carries the burden. Even knowing Tartaglia goes through the same doesn’t soothe the pain steadily growing in your heart. You’re like two stars gravitating to each other, seeking the sweet collision to finally become one and create something bigger, the most exquisite light in the endless black galaxy, but whenever you manage to come close to each other, other forces pull you apart.

You shift your position from towering above him to slumping back on Mikhail’s lap, your anger deflated like a balloon.

“Arguing with you is no fun,” you mumble, sheathing the knife back in its place inside your boot.

Mikhail arches one dark brow. “Learnt from the best. You don’t want to get into an argument with my mama.”

“Are you two leaving me out from a team bonding session?” comes a static voice from your left.

“Darling, we would never leave you out from a potential threesome,” Mikhail says back, a wicked grin flirting with his mouth.

“Blergh,” you groan in disgust and roll off him, grabbing for the plastic piece from where Mitsuki’s voice has sounded; Il Dottore’s newest invention, a voice transmitter agents use for long distance communication.

“So, how’s it cooking, good looking?” Mikhail asks, ignoring your eyes rolling back. “Anything new at the front?”

Mitsuki is silent for a moment. Somewhere, a dog barks. “I think someone might have tipped the Baron off.”

Immediately, you feel Mikhail's body tense next to you. “Do you need us to come in?”

Oppressive silence fills the room. Mikhail jerks, but before he can jump to rash actions, you grab his arm hard enough to bruise. He freezes, and you both stare at the voice transmitter in Mikhail’s hand.

A moment later, static crackles, and Mitsuki says, “I received a note on the caviar shipment. Roads are all clear, it should come in around seven in the morning.”

Mikhail relaxes, but a sweat bead rolls from his temple and disappears behind his black turtle neck sweater. He sags against you, exhaling very loudly.

A couple of years ago, after you three had been working together and hadn’t tried to kill each other as often as other teams, you guys had decided to come up with your own secret language for times like these. Mikhail had first complained about the hours put into learning it the most—the semantics always changing depending on what line of work you’d infiltrate—but eventually even he had agreed it was a pretty neat trick. What Mitsuki has said simply means all is in order and the mission is proceeding smoothly.

“Little fucker,” Mikhail grumbles, ruffling his own hair just to keep his hand busy. You agree. It feels like you’ve aged five years in those last five minutes.

That relief is short lived. A small explosion from the right wing inside the mansion lights up the night like a firework show. Mikhail is out of the window in a flash. You grab your rifle, keeping an eye on him as he crosses the street in a flash and climbs over the iron gate.

Two shadows tumble through the hole in the second floor. You sway your scope, laying eyes on Mitsuki as he wrestles with a cloaked figure. Purple sparks fly, clashing with crimson flames that rise skyward and turn into black smoke. At least something is according to plan even though your Cryo Vision would be more effective.

You watch them fight for a moment, unable to get a clear shot as both are short distance fighters. Mitsuki moves quicker than a flash, whirling two hatches over his head, parrying a deathly bow from the Sumeru’s Claymore. Mitsuki is smaller than most of his comrades. People like to underestimate him, but that’s part of the fun, according to him. Proving people wrong. He dodges another swift strike, rolling out of the way and giving you a clear sight at your target. But over his shoulder, Mitsuki catches your eyes and gives the tiniest shake of his head. Not yet.

You wish he could see the stingy eye you’re giving him right now. You’ve waited long enough out in this cold and your whole body shakes with the need to move, the need to fight. A quick look to Mikhail shows he’s fending off two of the Baron’s guards himself. Luckily, they can’t really hold their stand against a fully trained Fatui agent. He quickly takes out his opponents, closing in on Mitsuki and the Sumeru agent. Mitsuki has driven him to the edge of the forest. So that’s his plan. You wait until the spy is right beneath a long, thick branch, then pull the trigger. The shot is muffled by the silencer, slicing through the air with infused Cryo power. It hits its target, cutting the branch off. The Sumeru spy is too slow. When the branch buries him under its weight, Mikhail finally catches up to Mitsuki, and through your scope you can see him patting Mitsuki down for injuries. Mitsuki pushes him away, not hard or in a mean way, just enough to signal this isn’t the time. The job isn’t done yet.

Mitsuki advances the spy and kneels, looking for signs of life. He looks up, his dark eyes searching your scope. He holds your gaze, picking up his voice transmitter.

“I have good and bad news,” he says. “The spy is still alive, so we’ll get our answers. But now I’m pretty sure the Baron knows what’s going on.”

“Then don’t just stand there, someone go after him, quick!” you yell in your transmitter.

Before Mikhail dashes off, you hear him curse. “Lord Scaramouche is going to kill us.”

He will, considered this was supposed to undergo without the Baron noticing anything.

* * *

Dear little tygress,

forgive my horrible handwriting. I am still shaking from all the laughter your last letter gave me. Zhongli-xiansheng was actually worried for my wellbeing because I had choked on air and almost died. I swear, you will kill me one day, little tygress.

Speaking of little and potential lethal beasts, I’m surprised Scaramouche didn’t use your head as a toilet plunger. I really do think he's fond of you, little tygress. Any other team would be six feet under by now. You have to tell me your secret once I’m back. Scaramouche still doesn’t know I broke his favourite, ugly cup with the bear on the front from Fontaine, and I want to be prepared once he knows.

Everything is the same in Liyue, and at the same time, everything is changing. Rex Lapis’ murder is still unsolved, and I do enjoy watching the little traveller boy run around looking for answers. Once I return with the Geo Archon’s gnosis, dinner will be on me.

How are things at home? I hope Tonia hasn’t finished all mooncakes by herself again and saved some for the rest of the bunch. I can’t bear to hear Anthon cry again about me only sending sweets to Tonia and Teucer. Has the old man gotten in touch with you? He still doesn’t reply to me, but mama says he’s reading the letters. Maybe a bottle of Liyue’s Baijiu will loose his tongue, or hand for that matter. It’s almost as good as Fire-Water, promise.

Till next time and don’t get too much on little ‘Mouche’s nerves, otherwise there will be no room left for me.

Yours, Red Fox

__________________________________________________

please drop by my ko-fi if you enjoyed my writing!

[hogarthwrites]

just friends

pairing: young samuel drake/reader (m/f) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 3,155

summary:

Sam's your best friend, and you're hopelessly in love with him. It's cliche and it's stupid, but you can't help it. Is it really okay to be in love with your best friend even though you know it might ruin things between you two?

note:

Hi! This is a two-part story. The first part takes place in the past, in 1989, while the second part will take place in the present day.

tags: unrequited love, best friends

1989

You stared at your notebook covered in doodles as your history teacher, Mr. Phelps, talked on and on. A 90 minute class felt like three hours and you couldn't wait to just get out to see Sam.

Your vision kept blacking out as you tried to stay awake, something Mr. Phelps noticed right away.

“It was ironic that the British Empire condemned pirates when they pillaged and stole more than those buccaneers ever have, isn't that right?” The old man was looking directly at you and you blinked yourself awake and nodded.

“Yup, I agree,” you tried to act like you were interested.

“Welcome back,” he laughed.

You sighed and slumped further into your chair. 3 o’clock couldn't come any sooner.

As soon as class ended, Mr. Phelps asked to talk to you and you gulped as you picked your backpack up and walked to his desk where he was looking through papers.

“I'm worried about you,” he slid a paper across to you and y ou picked it up and frowned at the F in red taunting you.

“I'm gonna have to ask for a guardian or parent’s signature on this.”

“Really?” You sighed.

“I'm sorry, but it's just school policy,” Mr. Phelps shrugged. “Look, don't be afraid to ask questions, alright? I'm here to help.”

“Sure,” you pursed your lips and shoved your test paper into your bag.

Sam was lying on the grass in the park and reading a book when you found him, and you tilted your head to see what the book was. Treasure Island . Again.

“You know grass stains your jeans?” You nudged him with your Nike Cortez sneakers.

“Well look who the cat dragged in,” Sam gave you a lopsided grin as his brown eyes met yours.

You felt your cheeks burn and you quickly sat down next to him so you wouldn't have to face him. It was something you didn't want to admit, but you had a budding crush on Samuel Morgan, your cocky, way too ambitious best friend who was probably deranged.

“Fuck my life,” you groaned as you plopped down on the grass.

“I thought grass stains your jeans,” Sam tugged at your denim skirt.

“Fuck you,” you stuck your tongue out.

“Oof, cranky.”

“Sorry, it's just been such a shit day.”

“What happened?”

You pulled your test and put it on his chest. “That happened. Uncle Arthur’s going to skin me alive.”

Sam looked at the paper, and you almost thought he was going to laugh because he looked so amused, but instead he sat up.

“Let me help you,” he simply said.

“Help me?”

“Yeah! Like those tutor people.”

“What makes you the history expert?”

“My mom taught me, and pirates are kind of my thing. You know that,” this time it was Sam who nudged you with his worn out Chuck Taylors. “Come on, let me help you.”

“Fine, but can you do me a favour?” You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“Yeah, what is it?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Can you wait for me outside if Arthur decides to kick me out?”

It was a joke of course. Arthur wouldn't dare kick out his favourite -- and only -- niece. He did, however, lecture you about your priorities and banned TV for a month. As soon as you got to your room, you looked out your window and saw Sam smoking next to his red motorcycle.

You waved out a handkerchief to signify that things were good, and you could've sworn you heard Sam laugh before he drove away.

Sam’s apartment was actually a room he'd rented out in an older woman’s ( she’s just a friend , Sam had said) home near the city. It had a bed in the corner with an Indiana Jones poster above it and books piled on the wardrobe.

You sat on the floor, your back against the bed while you wrote the essay Mr. Phelps asked you to do while Sam read on his bed. Soft music played from somewhere outside and it was softly raining outside and all you wanted to do was lie down on the cool floor and take a nap.

“Done,” you announced as you finished your last sentence.

“Alright,” Sam plopped down in front of you, your knees touching. “Show me what you’ve done.”

Saying nothing, you held it out for him and buried your face between your knees.

“Hmm,” Sam grunted. “I mean, you’ve certainly memorised what you needed, but…”

“But?” You peeked up at him and saw that he was sucking in his cheek.

“But why was it important that pirates like Thomas Tew and Henry Avery pillaged the East India company?”

“For treasure?” You cocked your head to the side.

“Close, but you see, India’s economy dwarfed Europe’s at that time, and there weren’t any powerful navies in the Indian Ocean, which made a lot of the vessels there an easy target,” Sam explained, his hands flailing around as he talked. He did that a lot, and you thought it was kind of cute.

“Oh, alright,” you wrote what he was saying down on a piece of paper. “You make it a lot easier to understand than my stupid textbook.”

“Good to know,” Sam grinned. “If you get a good grade, I’ll take you out. My treat.”

Your face lit up. “Promise?”

“I promise. We’ll go anywhere… As long as I can afford it.”

“I’m holding you to that promise,” you stuck your tongue out.

It was quarter past nine when you were done rewriting your essay and Sam had fallen asleep. He was your ride home, but you figured if you walked fast enough you’d get home before 10 PM. You put your books away and looked at Sam who was gently snoring, his brown hair messy on his pillow.

He stirred when you covered him with a blanket, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t really make out.

“Good night, Sam,” you whispered as you turned off the light and stepped out.

Sam was waiting outside after school with a smug look on his face. You held up the paper as you approached him, doing a little victory dance before giving it to him.

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I’m a wonderful tutor.”

“Oh please, you were asleep for most of it,” you jokingly punched him in the shoulder.

“I think the A on this piece of paper makes your point moot.”

“Fine,” you giggled as you took your paper back and stuffed it back into your bag. “Where are you taking me then?”

Sam hopped onto his motorcycle and patted the seat behind him. “I dunno, it’s your choice.”

“Hmm,” you tapped your chin. “I’ve always wanted to go on a picnic.”

“Really?” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Alright. But what about food? It’s not a picnic without food.”

You ended up buying burgers and a small cake at a local diner and without a picnic blanket, you laid out a little lace handkerchief on the grass where Sam meticulously set the food. It looked a little ridiculous, but it was the best you both could have done with what little budget Sam had and at short notice too.

It was a cool evening and you happily ate your burgers while Sam blabbered on about Henry Avery. When he leaned back, his pinky touched yours and you froze, unsure if you wanted to move away or not. It was funny how just the tip of his finger touching yours made you feel hot and all you wanted to do was take his hand in yours.

Sam kept talking, but you wondered if he noticed that you probably just stopped breathing. You read plenty of romance books, hell, you even ready Forever by Judy Blume, but you never knew what it felt like to actually be in love. No, you shook away the thoughts. I can’t be in love with Sam… This is just infatuation. Nothing else.

You practically memorised him, the way he’d run his fingers through his unkempt hair, how he’d talk with his hands, how he’d bite his lip when he was upset. You saw him fall in and out of love with a variety of people, and you were always there for him. It was almost pathetic how much you knew about Sam Morgan, and you wondered if he memorised you the same way you did with him.

Something cold dripped on your cheek and you looked up as rain started pattering down.

“Oh shit,” you frantically picked the mostly eaten cake up while Sam picked up whatever was left of the burgers and the handkerchief and followed you to a gazebo nearby.

“Well, that ruined a perfectly good picnic,” Sam had his hands on his hips. “Is the cake alright?”

You looked down at the soggy cake. “It had better days.”

Sam laughed before he stuck his paper cup into the cake to get another slice.

“Really?” You looked up at him.

“What?” He shrugged between bites. “It’s still a cake. It’s not like the rain is dirty or anything.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“It’s fine,” Sam shrugged again. “Thanks for the picnic, by the way.”

“Nah, you paid for it.”

“But it was your idea. I haven’t been on a picnic since…”

Since his mom passed away. He suddenly looked forlorn.

“I know, Sam,” you reached out and touched his arm.

“Do you mind if I steal this picnic idea? Nathan might like this too,” he forced himself to smile.

“Not at all. Tell him I say hi, alright?”

“Sure thing.”

The rain lasted long enough for Sam to mostly finish what was left of the cake and once the sky cleared up, he drove you home.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way,” you smiled as you stood by his motorcycle. You could hear the sound of a TV blaring inside and you knew Arthur was probably waiting up.

“That’s just what friends do, right?” Sam grinned. Right. We’re just friends .  “I’ll see you on Monday?”

You nodded and watched him drive away. Arthur was fast asleep on the sofa while an old western played. You were always grateful he took you in when your mother ran off to Europe and your dad felt you were too much responsibility, but it made you sad Sam and Nathan didn’t have the same privilege.

You turned the TV off and placed your somewhat damp essay on the coffee table before going to your room.

I don’t love him . It was a lie you constantly told yourself. Believing it was getting harder every time you were with Sam and you could barely look him in the eyes without butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You tried to make yourself stop, but you just ended up thinking about him more.

Your grades improved, much to Arthur’s delight and you hoped you could keep it up until after graduation at least. You applied to some colleges, but you were nervous with your mediocre grades and lack of extracurricular activities.

“And I can’t escape / I’m a slave to love…” Sam sang as he tossed a baseball up and down. He didn’t seem like it, but he was a pretty good singer. You were on the floor again doing your homework while he sang along to the song that was playing outside.

“Is there a bar here or something?” You asked.

“Nah,” his brown eyes followed the baseball. “There’s this old man who plays music on his roof. The lady says it’s because he misses his wife or something.” He shrugged. “It’s not too bothersome. He has good taste.”

“I guess it’s better than Arthur’s loud westerns at home,” you muttered. “That’s sad though. He must have really loved his wife.”

“Yeah,” Sam simply shrugged.

“What? You don’t think you’ll be an old man yearning for his spouse someday?”

“I don’t even think I’ll fall in love, to be honest,” he ran his fingers through his hair.

You laughed. God, I hope you’re wrong .

“What about you?” He nudged you with a socked foot.

“Gross, get your nasty socks away from me!” You shrieked, which made him push his foot against your back more. “Sam, stop, I swear you’re disgusting.”

“Come on,” he teased. “I bet you have a little crush. Was it Vicky? Whatever her name was? The one with the…” He gestured at his chest.

“No!” You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “Don’t be rude. Vix is just a good friend, and she’s dating some guy anyway.”

Sam gave you a smug grin. “Alright. Keep your secrets.”

It was quiet again while you went back to your homework, your heart pounding from the interaction. What a bastard, you thought. If he knew… If he knew I had a crush on him, this would all be over. You didn’t want to think about what it would be like without Sam.

“I got this fancy letter for you from the University of Texas at San Antonio,” Arthur strolled into your room and handed you a letter. “You really wanna move that far away from your ol’ Uncle Arthur?”

“It’s a good university,” you stuck your tongue out as you tore open the envelope. “Please, please, please,” you whispered.

You barely read past the “Congratulations!” when you squealed and jumped out of bed. “I made it!”

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Arthur embraced you. He looked at the letter then frowned. “Biology?”

“Yeah, I think I kinda wanna be a doctor someday,” you bit your nail.

“And someday you will be,” he ruffled your hair. “Promise you’ll phone as much as you can, alright?”

“I’m still here, Uncle Arthur.”

“You’ve just grown up so fast,” he sighed. “What am I gonna do when you’ve gone off to be a doctor?”

“You could get a dog?”

“Huh,” he grunted. “Maybe.”

A week later, he came home with a puppy named John.

As graduation loomed closer, you felt excited, but you were left with a melancholy feeling of having to leave Sam behind. He was his usual, oblivious self, but you wanted to do it. You wanted to tell him before you left.

It was getting warmer again, so it was different to see Sam without a jacket on as he squatted on the pier, skipping rocks in the river. It seemed like there was something on his mind and he didn’t even notice you coming up to squat next to him. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a rock skipping far.

“Nice,” you said and he looked at you in surprise.

“Oh, hey,” he gave a weak grin. “Didn’t know you were here already.”

“Yeah, you seem busy.”

“Nah, just got a new job out of state.”

“You're leaving?” You felt your heart drop.

“In the fall, yeah, but not for long I hope.”

Sam fell silent, and you felt your heart beat quickly in your chest. Was this the right time? You were graduating in a few weeks, then you were off to San Antonio, unsure when you were ever going to see Sam again.

“Sam,” your voice was weak and he hummed in response. “I–I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah? What's that?” He looked worried when he turned to you.

“I could tell you anything, right? Promise you won't laugh?” Your cheeks flushed and you felt like your heart was gonna leap out of your chest. What am I doing?

“I won't laugh.”

At three, you took a deep breath. One... two…

“Sam, I like you,” you blurted out. “No, I think I'm in love with you.”

His expression softened at your words.

“I'm sorry, I tried my best not to let it get to me, but we're parting soon and I just thought–”

“I've always known,” Sam interrupted.

“What?”

“That you have a crush on me.”

“Oh.”

“I didn't wanna say anything because this is the best friendship I've ever had, and I don't wanna ruin what we have. We're great like this.”

Oh .

Best friendship.

The butterflies in your stomach turned into moths and you wanted to vomit. A lump in your throat grew and you held your breath. The last thing you wanted to do was to cry in front of Sam.

“I'm sorry,” you looked down at your feet.

“Hey,” he lightly nudged you. “We'll always be close. I'll write to wherever you are in the world. I promise.”

“Alright,” you nodded weakly. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Bring it in,” he held out his arms and you leaned into his embrace, trying not to sob into his shoulder.

You spent the night crying while you packed your bags, deciding not to bring anything that reminded you of Sam to college with you. You had to get over him.

Your chest felt heavy as you felt your heart break with every stupid lovesong that came on the radio. Why did you even bother confessing, of course Sam wouldn't be into you. Why would you even want to ruin your friendship like that?

The day you had to leave for the airport, Sam was at your window early in the morning.

“Mornin’, college student,” he smiled as he climbed into your room.

“I thought you were going to see me off at the airport,” you yawned.

“Just thought we could spend a bit more time together,” he looked around your now empty room. “Wow. You're really leaving.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “San Antonio, here I come.”

Sam didn't react, instead he turned back to look at you, his brown eyes scanning your face. “Hey listen, uh, a few weeks ago… I'm sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you sat on your bed. “No, it's fine. You're right, we're great friends.”

“I didn't mean to break your heart or anything.”

“I completely understand, Sam.”

He reached into his pocket and asked for your hand. There he placed a little medallion with a star engraved on it. It looked more like a little coin with a chain pierced through it.

“Here, it's a late graduation gift. I couldn't get out of work to buy it early enough, but I made it just in time last night.”

“Sam, this is beautiful,” you gasped. You made your way to the vanity and put the necklace on.

“It's just so you won't forget me, the most amazing friend you could ever ask for,” he looked smug.

“And it was such a sweet moment too,” you shook your head. “Thanks, Sam. I don't think I can ever forget you.”

You hugged him, feeling his arms around you tightly. At the moment, you felt your heart break, suddenly missing someone who was right in front of you. Your tears flowed, and you buried your face into his shirt as he soothed you.

“Promise we'll see each other next summer?”

“Promise.”

“Promise you'll write and call?”

“I promise.”

But Samuel Morgan was gone by the next summer.

[khaleesiofalicante]

OK MY ELECTRICITY WENT BUT IM HERE WITH MY LIVE BLOG. Im also wearing a tiara i found during cleaning at 2 38 am...

LXI'S STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS

You see, that’s how Lexi functioned. Unlike Selena who had a weekly planner with her name doodled on it, Lexi didn’t like having a schedule. She would decide what she wanted to do when she wanted it.

SAME LEXI SAME

IM SORRY IF THIS IS MSOTLY IN CAPS IM TOO EXCITED

lexi

lexi why are you in pain

what what what

whats happening

im freaking out

GEORGIA

There were six of them. Each handle in one colour of the pride flag.

gimme

THE ACADEMY

NO NO NO

these demons can talk as well.

that's what bothers me the most

CLARY STFU YOU KNOW DAMN WELL YOU FOUGHT A WAR AT 15. I know she's worried for valid reasons but im losing it right now.

calm its ok its gonna be ok

georgia collecting the ichor-

i love her so much

Lexi didn’t think it was possible, but the sight somehow made her gayer than before.

me every time i look at amy or rosa from b99

OLIVIA

“Of course you are not dying!” Lexi said severely. “Neither one of us is allowed to die before we finish binging Game of Thrones.”

with the major character death tag right there

dont make me think of georgia getting sick

dont

The bar was extremely low for shadowhunters.

yes it is

OH MULTIPLE POVS

RAFAEL

did i just sob "my child" ?

maybe i did

im so proud of him

LEAVE ME ALONE

wait but in tid sophie was over the age of ascention too

WAIT HOW OLD WAS SOPHIE AT THE AGE OF ASCENTION

WAIT OMG SOPHIE WAS YOUNG

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

“Life is too short for bad blood,”

yeah. yeah it is

i still really like camilla

He could go to Mexico right now. His heart wanted to do it. His body screamed at him to do it.

It wasn’t the distance that was the problem. He had two warlocks at home. He had a bike. He had money to buy a plane ticket.

It wasn’t the distance at all. Rafael would walk to Mexico for her if necessary.

i screamed so loud here i was grateful for the closed door

CHAIRMAN MEOW

CYUKGUCDGYMDYUD

THE PRECIOUS CAT

WHAT IF THE MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IS ABOUT CHAIRMAN???

“Y’all really be acting as if portals are like a bag of Cheetos!” Max pointed out seriously. “It ain’t $2.50, bro! Do you have any idea the energy it takes to make a portal? What people actually pay for it? I can’t be making portals for free. I don’t get a salary from the Clave like you do. This is how I make a living!”

SO TRUE

“I was going to say you should go stay at the institute with David,” Rafael said. “But you are right. You are not a baby. You can stay here on your-”

“On second thoughts,” Max interrupted with a grin. “I’m still a fetus in warlock years so I will go the institute.”

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS

AHHH HE CALLED HER PRETTY THE FIRST TIME HE SAW HER

THEY WERE 7

IM SCREAMING SO MUCH RIGHT NOW

my throat hurts

JAIME MY BABY

Y'ALL I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

“All thanks to the amazing Isabelle Lightwood,” Jaime replied. “I think I am a little in love with her.”

“Who isn’t?” Rafael chuckled.

we all are in love with isabelle lightwood

no no no

where's anjali

where is she

dont fuck with me right now

why does diego look like a mess

“Diego,” the woman rasped. “She is coughing up blood again.”

no

dont

it's chapter 1

stop making me cry

THE LIGHTWOOD SIBLINGS

YUSDFGYUSDFSDGYUD

if anyone gives izzy shit for this i'll kill them

JACE STOP GOING SO FAST

“Jace, if you want to a baby so much then grow your own damn uterus,” Isabelle snapped.

TELL HIM

THIS GOES OUT TO THE WHOLE MALE POPULATION

After Georgia’s birth, they had promised each other that they would always choose the children first. If it ever came to a point, as it often did in their lives, where they had to choose between themselves and the children – they had promised each other to save the children.

dude theres a major character death here

Jace thought for a moment and then grinned at her. “No uterus. No opinion.”

“Selena has trained you well,”

selena my smart feminist child

I JUST KNOW ONE OF THE LIGHTWOOD-BANES IS DYING

AND IM NOT OK

“Do you really need those?” Alec asked, pointing at the glasses.

“No,” Jace replied. “But Clary thinks I look hot with glasses.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Alec shook his head.

Jace turned around. “Really? And your beard is for character building, is it?”

there's no use lying alec we all know why it's really there

I KNOW WHAT LEUKEMIA IS SHUT THE FUCK UP IM LOSING MY SHIT

no

no

she cant die

IF SHE DIES I WILL RAISE HELL

my throat hurts from all the shouting

“Can I get a cinnamon latte with extra cream and two sugars please?” Alec asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow.

“Magnus had a long day at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Alec explained.

“Can’t he just magic his drink?”

“Well, yes,” Alec replied. “But I like buying it for him. It’s called being a good husband.”

aww that's so sweet

THIS IS HILARIOUS

“I’m saying no one can do better than David,” Jace huffed. “He is precious.”

tru

“If you are going to be this way, things are going to be very awkward at their wedding,” Jace muttered.

“They are not getting married, Jace!”

“Do you not want them to???”

“They are nineteen!!”

“Doesn’t mean we are not allowed to think about it,” Jace pointed out. “If they get married, we will be family!”

“We are already family!” Alec all but yelled.

“Yeah, but we will be even closer!” Jace sighed happily.

“You are my parabatai!” Alec said incredulously. “My soul is literally tied to yours! How closer do you want to get?”

THIS IS AMAZING

OH MY GOD I LOVE

JACE BEING OVER PROTECTIVE OVER SELENA DATING SOMEONE IM LOSING MY SHIT

wait how old is michael

"Oh my god,” Jace gasped. “Three out of three! I win!”

“It’s not a competition, Jace!” Alec rolled his eyes.

“It is and I won,” Jace grinned. “You’re welcome, LGBTQ+ community.”

YUP JACE WON

“Can we talk about something else?” Izzy demanded. “We are not those parents who only ever talk about their children.”

Alec cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.”

“Yeah, we have lives of our own,” Jace nodded seriously.

They drove quietly for a while before they started discussing about their children’s love lives again right up until Jace pulled over at Jade Wolf.

of course...

Lily’s face was pale – paler than usual.

lily what's wrong

please lily

anjali...

lily is close to her

of course

“Then we burn all the angels,” Lily growled.

YES YES YES YES

Jace walked in that moment, sipping from his latte. “I bought donuts, y’all!”

A chuckle escaped Magnus. “Jonathan. Your timing is impeccable.”

"Is everything okay?” Jace asked, looking troubled.

“No,” Maia replied. “But at least we have donuts.”

at least they have donuts

“I love you,” he mouthed, and Alec’s heart was okay for a moment.

THE FEELS

ISABELLE

NO NO NO

NO

IZZY

PLEASE

WHY IS EVERY POV ENDING LIKE THIS

They had put on their clothes

AHEM SIR-

they grow up so fast...

no

im crying

dont please

izzy

she was poisoned

oh my god

WHO

GIVE ME NAMES RIGHT NOW

Rafael drank like a dozen a day.

understandable have a good day

OH MY GOD STOP JOKING AS A COPING MECHANISM

Im squeezing the life out of Emma (my emotional support stuffed cat) right now

seelies

the first time i heard the source was angelic my very first incstinct was seelie. I didn't wanna share it because of how absurd it sounded. but it doesn't anymore.

charlotte was poisoned by a seelie unintentionally which cost her her child

oh

OH MY GOD

NO THIS WASN'T IZZY'S COFFEE

MAGNUS GAVE IT TO HER

THIS WAS MAGNUS' COFFEE

SOMEONE WAS TRYING TO POISON HIM.

I'm losing my mind oh my god... I am so scared. Please Anjali and Isabelle please they cant...no i dont wanna think like that. tryna take deep breaths. ok. it's gonna be ok. maybe.

see ya friday!

Now I want to write lbaf while wearing a tiara. Hmmmm. I'll look for one online.

See you Friday! Also hope you had a good birthday!!!

And send pics of Emma!!!!!!!

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part Two

Continued from PART ONE

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister, Variego

Summary: Endless Ending. Back on La Huerta for the first time since the world's resurrection, there are some heart-to-hearts with old friends in order.

Word Count: 4680

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

“Howdy there, pilot. Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the cockpit, squinting as she adjusted to the bright light that shone through the large windows as they soared over the Caribbean.

“You comin’ in here to annoy me is just part and parcel of my La Huerta jobs now, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Top Gun, so sentimental,” she teased-- but really, like she could talk.

Jake rested his hands behind his head and looked out over a familiar green spot in the blue expanse, now fast approaching. “Well, she’s no ‘Delilah’, that’s for sure. If something comes to me, it comes to me. But like I say, it ain’t the same. It’s not as if you people are about to let me hide from the world with this baby as my only friend.”

“Damn straight.”

“Thought as much. Well, everything’s reading as normal; think we might make it, sans freaky storms this time.” Jake turned to his visitor with a smirk. “I’m still gonna want you to get your ass in a seat. A landing’s a landing.”

Safely in her seat-- Estela by her side, and little Fenix in a pet carrier tucked against the seat in the next aisle-- Taylor felt her stomach doing violent flip-flops as the green spot in the ocean came closer, beginning to take on detail. Rivers she’d bathed in snaking out to the sea, Atropo looming, and the now-abandoned Celestial-- still standing by all appearances unchanged-- in its shadow.

Estela was calm and quiet, contemplative as the small plane descended. So much about this journey was familiar, and yet, everything had changed. This time, marching towards her destiny wasn’t a lonely trail to a foregone violent conclusion; this time, the future was all a big unknown other than the fact that it would be anything but lonely. She wove her fingers with Taylor’s, feeling nerves flowing through, and gently squeezed.

“Almost there, querida.”

With a gentle bump, the plane was on the ground, and Taylor gave a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be rude about Jake’s flying ability, but until that point, she’d finished every ride with him in either a crash, a near crash… or plummeting into the sea. That she was something of a nervous flyer was, she thought, pretty damn reasonable.

In no time at all, the cabin door had been swung open, and the warm Caribbean air welcomed the small group home.

“And here I was worried I’d need to replace another plane. It seems the pilot can fly one of these things after all; that’s a fiver I owe you, Grace.”

“He of little faith,” Grace laughed, though it was quite clear she was at least somewhat giddy with relief. “Jake knows what he’s doing.”

No sooner had Taylor set her feet on La Huerta soil than a familiar figure was running towards her, streaking out of the cover of the foliage at the side of the runway.

“Diego! Ohmygod!”

Diego flung his arms around his friend and held her tight. Last he’d seen her, she’d only just clawed herself back from death’s door; Taylor was going to get hugged, and she was going to get hugged hard.

Estela set out into the humid air, immediately aware of the sounds of the jungle; insects and birds, rustling of leaves. Even the smell of the soil was distinctly La Huerta. She hadn’t expected to feel like this, but… she was home.

_____________________________

An almost comically deep miaow made Estela jump. Engrossed in what she’d been writing-- and the frustrated doodles she’d been swirling on a separate piece of paper-- she hadn’t noticed Taylor’s cat, Madam, joining her on the wooden bench outside their home.

“I must be making myself crazy, hey Mierdita? I guess you’re here to make sure my senses stay sharp… or you’ve come to complain to me about Nixie.”

“Mow.”

Estela giggled and scooped the little cat, presently bright orange in colour, though that was subject to change, and hugged her to her chest. It was nice to have the company. Taylor was down on the beach, catching up with Diego for the first time in far too long. And what Estela was doing… for the most part, she needed to be left in her own space to do it. The little cat might have been a distraction, but from the number of doodles Estela had scribbled, it looked as though her productivity had already peaked for the time being.

“You’ll just have to learn to forgive Taylor. You know she likes to surround herself with lots of friends.”

Madam nimbly climbed her way up onto Estela’s shoulder, and enthusiastically rubbed against her face.

“I’m glad I can make you feel better. I guess I wasn’t getting anywhere with writing this anyway….”

With a little sigh, she tucked the unfinished letter in her hoodie. She’d written so many letters to her mother-- one for every week she’d been working here on the island-- but to find the words to say goodbye, to get some kind of closure, did not come easy. Maybe with a little more time to think….

“Hello?”

Estela looked up to see Varyyn outside the front of the house. “Haalta, Varyyn. I’m round the side.”

With a low growl, Madam ducked down into Estela’s hood and pressed herself against her neck. She eyed their visitor with great suspicion from her perch.

“It looks like your little friend is happy to have you back,” Varyyn said as he approached, “--and less pleased to see me.”

“Don’t worry; she has a lot to say, but it’s all talk. She won’t bite.”

Varyyn, rather daringly in Estela’s view-- though he did regularly hang around with a hulking smilodon, so maybe he was just good with cats-- reached and tickled Madam under her chin.

“I have been wanting to find you,” he said. “Diego had told me you were preparing a memorial for your mother.”

‘’S a long time coming,” Estela grunted. “And maybe it’ll be a long time still; I don’t want to do anything extravagant, but it’s got to be right.”

“That is fair. I hope I am not disturbing you.”

“No, no. I don’t mind,” she said, gentler. “So long as it’s in progress. Finally. I couldn’t exactly get any kind of closure until I’d dealt with Rourke, and then… I needed to go home. I dunno… maybe it was easier to feel it as anger, because the sadness was too much to bear if I let it take its place. When I let myself really feel it….” A tear rolled down her face, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know if I can say I’m at peace with it all… I don’t think I ever really can be. But I’m better. I brought over the letters Mom sent me when she was here on the island, to bury. And I then thought of writing again… to say goodbye. All I’ve gotta do now is find the words. Anyway,” she finished hurriedly, “you wanted me for something?”

Varyyn nodded sagely. It wasn’t lost on him the intimacy of what was being shared. Perhaps the violent death of his own mother had given Estela a sense of tragic kinship with him?

“Seraxa and I talked at great length. It had… troubled me that there had been no acknowledgement of your mother’s sacrifice. She must have felt very alone standing against the Hydra, but we will not see that bravery forgotten now.”

He reached into his satchel, and brought out a neatly folded set of clothes.

“To wear the traditional uniform of our warriors is the greatest of honours. We wish to pay tribute to your mother as a hero to the Vaanti, if you will accept this gift.”

Estela’s eyes grew wide, and her bottom lip wobbled. “I--- um, thank you.” That’s the best you can manage? “I… don’t know what to say. Thank you.” In Varyyn’s nod of understanding, the look in his eyes, it was plain to see he felt the depth of her gratitude.

A gentle smile came to Varyyn’s face, as though he was relieved. “It is your choice whether you would like to wear this in her honour, or simply keep it as part of your memorial.”

Her cheeks flushed, Estela hugged the folded uniform to her chest. There were just… no words to adequately say what the gesture meant. For Estela’s own protection, any trace of Olivia Montoya’s connection to Everett Rourke had been wiped from record; and with it, all evidence of the courageous last stand taken. But here she was remembered.

“I don’t think I’ve told you…,” Estela choked out after a little while. “I mean, it’s not as if I’m the best conversationalist… I don’t know what to say to people half the time.” She shook her head. “But, anyway, I always found you impressive. When your mother died… it was sudden, and brutal, and somehow you had the strength to honour her by taking up her mantle. Immediately. And you always seemed so together, however much you were crumbling on the inside. You had to be.”

“I had good friends to lean on. And I had Diego.” Varyyn chucked darkly. “It is terrible, but when you all came back through the gate, as much I was very sad for you all, and for Diego, that everything you knew and loved was gone… there was a very selfish part of me….” He stalled.

“Fair enough,” Estela said, not about to force him to finish a clearly uncomfortable sentence. “It had only been a couple of days. How’s anyone supposed to bear that much loss? While carrying the expectations and fears of your people? Diego gave you comfort when you needed it most. And… then you gave him the same.”

“Yes.”

Having that shoulder; it made all the difference. It made living through the worst of horrors bearable, and then, somehow… it made the act of living on, in hope, possible. Varyyn had Diego. She, Estela, had her Taylor. And they all had one another.

“We’re lucky we found the right people.”

___________________________

As she slogged through the soft white sand, Taylor wasn’t sure what was going to give out first, her legs or her lungs. Using her best friend’s hand as an anchor, she kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, Taylor, you know, it might be easier to have a real conversation if we sat down for a bit.”

Diego was polite and tactful, but what he meant was clearly; ‘You are an absolute wreck; sit down before you put yourself in an early grave’.

Taking the hint, Taylor flopped down heavily, squinting against the bright sun as she tried to get herself comfortable. While she struggled to get her breath back, Diego sat himself down close by, patiently letting her recover.

“I swear the beaches in San Trobida aren’t so much of a work-out,” Taylor said apologetically. “Not as soft. I have actually gotten a lot fitter, if you can believe it.”

Diego put a hand on her shoulder. “I can actually. You did a pretty good job of covering up how much you were struggling those last few days you were here, but I really don’t think you were fooling anyone. You do look better. Last time I saw you, it was hard not to get the impression that one stiff wind could have you over.”

Taylor snorted with laughter. “Damn, and I thought I put up a good front.”

“Not remotely. You are incredible, my friend, but a talented actor you are not.”

This was wonderful. The warmth of the sun of her body, and the easiest of company. Taylor reclined back, her arms propping her up in the sand from behind.

“Well, now that I’m not having to focus on not falling over… how’ve you really been?”

Diego stared wistfully out to sea, all the while playing with a little lock of his hair that Varyyn had braided for him. “’How have I really been’ as in not the brush-off, ‘oh, I’m good’ answer?”

“Yep. And I promise I’ll keep my own bullshit in check as fair trade.”

“Okay. If that’s how we’re doing this.” Diego fiddled with his hair for a little while longer as he contemplated his answer… and where to start. “I’m good.” As Taylor rolled her eyes, he added quickly; “ I am good.”

“Yeah?”

“Going back home was the best thing I could have done; it made me realise just how much I actually belong here. I’ve found my people. And Varyyn. I don’t have to tell you how cut up I was to be away from him; you could see it. Heck, even Grandma Bhandarkar saw it-- I have never been force-fed so much in my life, and I grew up with my abuela!”

Taylor chuckled. She was eternally grateful that the extended Catalyst family had been there for Diego when she couldn’t be, through one of the most pivotal periods in his life. “Did you… did you manage to talk to your parents at all?” she ventured gently.

With a sad smile, Diego shook his head. “I called from Raj’s place. I did speak to my dad, and honestly it was better than I expected. But he said Mom’s not ready.”

“Oh, Diego….”

“No, I knew she wouldn’t be ready.” He gave a little sigh. “That big, scary conversation’s done now, though, and I feel kind of… lighter. Like… I can start to accept how things are. If Mom and Dad were ever going to accept who I am, you’d think the year and a half I’d disappeared off the face of the earth would have done the trick.”

Taylor put an arm around Diego as he sniffed. “You know it’s all them, yeah? None of this is on you.”

“Yeah… I know. I came back here and… Varyyn just looked at me like I was the most beautiful person in the world. I could not have felt more loved. So, yeah-- I’m good.”

“So,” Taylor said gently, “what happens next? Do you still want to come back to Hartfeld with us in September?”

Diego huffed out a long exhale. Now, that was a question.

“The only really honest answer I can give you is… I don’t know. Could not be more conflicted.”

“That’s… that’s fair.”

“I keep thinking about that vision we saw when I took my action figures from Vaanu.  I didn’t think it was possible for me to be that comfortable in my own skin, but it wasn’t like I was just seeing it-- I could feel it.”

“Yeah. It was kind of, just… radiating off you. You were just one-hundred percent genuine Diego, no holes barred… and everyone just loved you for it.”

“Look, I know that whole thing was just Vaanu trying to manipulate you into sacrificing youself--”

“Diego--”

“No, it’s okay. Because even if that’s all it was, it doesn’t matter. The more time I’m here with Varyyn… and people are respecting me as me-- you should see the queues of kids that form when I re-tell the original Star Wars trilogy….”

Taylor chuckled fondly.

“...The more I realise that, actually, that could be me. If I wanted it.”

“That really could be you. Without a shadow of a doubt. It would just mean…”

“Leaving Varyyn? Shattering both our hearts into a million pieces? Yeah, that’s the sticking point.”

Putting her head on Diego’s shoulder, Taylor offered what support she could. “What… what does he think?”

“He really loves me, so he’s unhelpfully understanding about the whole thing. It would be so much easier to know what I should do if he’d just say he’d rather I stay here!”

“So inconsiderate.”

“But, well, he said how much I light up when I talk about what I saw in that vision. And he lights up when he talks about that,” Diego said with a resigned laugh. “He says if I stay here, I shouldn’t be giving up every part of me.”

“He’s right,” Taylor said. “It’s you he fell in love with, and it’s you the hordes of Vaanti children seek out whenever they need smiles put on their faces. One way or another, I think you should always feed the real you. ‘Cause that guy’s pretty great.”

Diego glanced away, bashful, but unable to hide his smile. Again, he started playing with his hair.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, Taylor. How about it’s your turn. Do you have a plan? I guess Vaanu didn’t bother showing you what a future on Earth could look like, hey?”

Taylor gave a soft humph. “No, they certainly did not. That’s something I’m just going to have to figure out myself.” She frowned. “They just showed me enough to put the pressure of ensuring the happiness of everyone I love on my shoulders,” she said bitterly.

Catching her tone, Diego raised an eyebrow. “That’s really getting to you.”

“Yeah,” she heaved. For a moment, she considered what she wanted to share. “Look, I haven’t exactly talked about this before…. All those visions I saw, just about all of them showed you guys rocking your dream careers. Except for, well….” She trailed off, sadly.

“Except for Estela and Aleister, right? Now you mention it, that does kinda say a lot about the impact Rourke had.”

“Exactly. It makes me so… so angry,” she said, than added with a dry laugh, “I don’t have the energy to be angry. Seeing you all die in my dreams doesn’t help either; all I can think is that he did all that. ”

“So, you’ve put it out there now. Maybe that’ll help you move past it?”

“I sure hope so. Letting that fester isn’t going to be healthy for me, and it sure as hell won’t do Estela any favours. She’s been amazing. There’s been so much she’s had to move through. I think I’ve been so focused on her that it only just recently sank in how much I’m simmering in hate for that bastard. And I don’t want to let it out and feed into her own feelings. Does… that make sense?”

“That sounds pretty natural,” Diego assured. “Being protective of your family is pretty much wired into you; kinda makes sense that it would get you all fired up-- and that you want to shield Estela from even more hurt and anger. I’m here, you know. If ever you need a best friend to off-load on; I’m your man.”

“Thanks,” Taylor said softly, and boy, did she mean it. A little smile came to her face at the sound of Furball yipping as he chased a euphoric Fenix up and down the shoreline. Bad feelings passed quickly, for there was just too much beauty in the world she had fought for and won.  “All things considered, I’m doing really well. Since I ramped up the self-care, I’m getting less nightmares-- I know they’re not proper nightmares, it’s just my brain replaying memories that aren’t even all mine. But they’ve gotten better.”

Diego shook his head, incredulous. “Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to sleep with that going on at all.”

“With great difficulty is how,” Taylor laughed. “Poor Estela is now pretty used to me waking her up, screaming and crying.” She smiled softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without her; she has this magic way of just… chasing away all the horrors. I guess it’s because I feel safe when she’s holding me.”

“N’aww!” Diego’s eye twinkled. “I really am the best wingman around. I’ll happily accept tips for match-making services given.”

Taylor snorted. “I feel like we can take some of the credit, but fine, thanks for the help. I’ve seen hundreds of different versions of me and Estela falling in love… and it’s surprising how many times it was you who gave me the push.”

“So, you really do owe me one.”

“I really do.”

Fenix ran over, panting heavily, and flopped down into Taylor’s lap. A little way behind, Furball trotted after.

“Hey, Diego?”

“You’re missing your buff wife?”

“That, and I’m absolutely starving. You wanna head back to Catalyst Village?”

Diego looked out at the darkening sky. This day had flown. No doubt, the days to come would fly too, and in no time at all he’d be faced with leaving Varyyn… again. Then his stomach growled loudly.

“Apparently, you’re not the only one. Come on-- d’you need a piggy-back?”

Indignant, Taylor plopped Fenix down in the sand and got to her feet. “I certainly do not.”

“Okay… reframing that. Would you like a piggy-back?”

Ooh, that smirk. “Oh, all right,” she relented. “In the time it would’ve taken me to walk back, I’d have already died of hunger.”

So, they made their way back up the beach; Diego giving a more-weary-than-she’d-care-to-let-on Taylor… and their two furry companions leading the charge, drawn home by the scent on the wind of food being cooked over an open fire.

___________________________

“A toast!” Aleister pronounced loudly, holding aloft a glass of Breath of the Moon. As his friends and family around the fire raised their matching cocktails, he thrust his own glass ever-higher with slightly-tipsy gusto. “To new beginnings! To reuniting with comrades! To bringing about justice!”

Estela leaned over and whispered in Taylor’s ear. “You see why I thought you should only take a little sip of this stuff?”

Taylor sniggered. “I’d make a toast to the fact that we have a whole house to ourselves again.It’s gonna be a lot easier to get our sex on when your brother and sister-in-law aren’t in the next room.”

Giving her wife an exaggerated wink, Estela huddled closer, delighting in the giggle she stirred. Somehow, everything felt easier here. It was is if just to be in this place brought her back to the best of herself, to the sense of peace within herself that had once felt like an impossibility. Now, with Taylor, in their home and surrounded by people they loved, it was an inevitability. This time would refresh her-- it would them both-- and ready them for the greater steps that lay ahead.

It seemed the feeling was catching,for everyone was relaxed and laughing as they cooked skewers over the crackling fire and sipped their cocktails. In the firelight, Varyyn’s face seemed to glow with affection for his beloved husband beside him-- who himself was bubbling over with the simple pleasure of being surrounded by friends. Estela wondered about the two of them… what the future might hold. A year could go by so quickly-- she learned that the had way when she’d been counting down to Taylor’s self-sacrifice-- but away from the one you loved, time would stretch agonisingly. She did not envy the choice Diego was faced with; that they were now with him to offer support though that… that mattered.

Opposite them, Jake was back to ribbing Aleister, something even more fun now that the target was a little sozzled. No amount of back-and-forth teasing could hide the genuine --rather unlikely-- friendship that had formed; Aleister, blessed with both wealth and contacts in high places, had made himself a pivotal force in the fight to clear Jake’s name. The more Estela had gotten to know her unexpected sibling, the more it became obvious to her that at his heart, Aleister was driven by the same protectiveness of those dear to him that powered her. It was something, she’d come to realise, that Rourke had cemented into them both-- not through any passing of genes, but by fierce resistance to the poison he’d inflicted. It had taken time… and it had been painful, but in their budding kinship, Estela had found undeniable comfort.

Taylor took Estela’s hand, and laid a weary head on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” Estela laughed softly. She could feel the smile on Taylor’s face; so open and radiant, full of tenderness for the people surrounding her, and it spoke wonders.

With her free hand, Taylor gently chinked her glass to Estela’s.

“Cheers. To being home.”

“To being home.”

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 15

new year, new chapter c: it's been a while since i've worked on Chronicles—December Mood dips are Not Delicious, plus i started streaming regularly, which has been fun! ((i’m omnistruck on Twitch if you want to check it out 🥰) but rest assured i intend to see it through to the end. i hope you've been well <3 take care, and enjoy!

From: itsdjbubbles

My dude, if your stage presence is anything like this flyer, y’all are absolutely gonna kill it at La Tortue.

Well. Luka doesn’t know about that.

It’s not like Kitty Section is totally obscure. They’ve had a stage in Paris’s annual pop-up music festival or more than one occasion. And sometimes Juleka’s tagged along to street corners with him so they could duet in hopes of more than just pocket change. And, of course, there was that whole music contest with Bob Ross and XY, but that had only ended in fiasco: their music was stolen, Rose’s vocals ripped right off the track. Luka argued up and down over the phone until he was red in the face, nearly biked down to the studio and let them have it, but he could hardly prove it. And he cared too much about it jeopardizing Juleka’s happiness to follow through.

Total corporate bullshit. He didn’t know how Jagged Stone did it. When he said so at dinner the night he gave up, his Ma only tousled his hair and said, “You’re my boy, aren’t you?”

Sometimes he thinks that’s the strongest, bravest, he’s ever been. That all his audacity peaked years ago, and he’s only gotten worse since then.

Bubbles isn’t corporate bullshit. Luka feels like he’d be able to figure out something like that from conversation alone. But their talks have been friendly—and more than that, supportive. He’s even shown a few messages to the band, just to check that he wasn’t losing his mind. And he saw how their faces softened in approval, or lit up with excitement. Even Juleka’s.

Besides, Bubbles makes music. And when he samples something, he actually credits it. He knows how to play the game. And it feels like they’re on the same side of the board.

Bubbles has that stage presence; the fact that he only needs that one shadowy picture on his profile is more than enough of an indicator. And Bubbles has a reputation that precedes him. So even if they’re on the same side of the board, it feels like Bubbles is always just a couple of steps ahead.

At least his bandmates are on the same side, and at the same step. All it took was a casual mention, during a late-night band practice, of “the bakery he keeps getting their snacks from” being all in on getting them even more exposure. They didn’t exactly do a good job of hiding their excitement, but he wouldn’t have wanted them to, anyway. Even Juleka, after practice ended, had to admit, “You did good.” And then, with perhaps a bit more snark, “Maybe she’s the one trying to impress you. “

“Stop,” Luka said with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t help thinking about it once the partition between their beds was up. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng was trying to impress him.

…Was there?

By now, nearly a day later, Luka’s still asking himself that. Still hemming and hawing like they have more than just two weeks to get their act together. Pacing below deck with his phone in his hand, thinking about pear tarts and pretty faces instead of going to see them in person, and staring at Marinette’s phone numbers until he thinks he’s accidentally memorized both of them.

He doesn’t recognize the pattern or the area code of one of them, so he can only assume that it's an American number. But he still hasn’t mucked up the courage to text or even save the French one in his phone. Why does he need to be scared in the first place? It’s a phone number, and this is strictly business, and everything between them has been strictly business.

Well. Nearly everything. Nearly strictly.

He thinks.

Okay. Okay. All he has to do is say… what? Hi? Who just starts texting someone for the first time with “Hi?” But he can’t go writing a whole essay either, even though at least now he has the power to edit his words instead of just saying them and hoping for the best.

This is harder than it needs to be. And yeah, maybe he’s just making it harder than it needs to be, but it’s not like his brain and the shake in his hands are giving him much of a choice in the matter.

Luka switches back over to his message thread with Bubbles and shoots off a quick reply—flatterer—because maybe answering something easy will make the hard stuff more tolerable. He finds himself looking toward his guitar as though it might lend him strength… well, what the hell. It couldn’t hurt. He plays a doodle or two, idle notes, and catches himself before his fingers can drift toward the beginning of the ocean-blue song. At this point, it’s neither perfect nor good, and he can’t tell if it’s personal dissatisfaction or the numbers that the latest draft has been doing online.

Both. It’s probably both.

Messaging Marinette ends up being just as hard after his attempts at centering as it was before—because as it turns out, the whole music-giving-him-unbridled-confidence thing really only works while he’s playing it. So now he’s left still staring at the blank NEW MESSAGE screen, the cursor blinking almost tauntingly at him because of course it is. Because somehow, he can write a note telling a girl her eyes are pretty and survive long enough to see her smile about it, but he can’t send that same girl a text. It’s not like he can even see her reaction this time, anyway; that just gives him even more of an advantage.

Okay. Okay. He can actually do this. Maybe. He thinks—no, no, he has to.

With a deep breath that he holds longer than he releases, Luka opens a new message.

To: Marinette hey. it’s luka.

And like an idiot, he hits SEND before he’s even put the rest of his message together. So now he has to make a mad dash to come up with something so he doesn’t seem like a total creep for messaging her out of the blue.

For fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he writes his messages in the notes first.

To: Marinette sorry, hit send before i could finish. anyway, just wanted to tell you the band is cool with the postcard idea. i can pay you next time i come to the bakery, if that’s cool.

To: Marinette anyway, it’s really cool of you to offer your help like this. sorry if i didn’t say so yesterday, it’s kind of been... a wild time.

Luka locks his phone before he can agonize too much over what he’s sent, stuffs it away and starts pacing again. It’s not a frantic, shaky thing; no, he’s learned to keep the shakes on the inside until no one’s around to see them. He jumps when his back pocket vibrates, and he nearly drops his phone trying to fish it out. It’s only Bubbles, and he can’t tell whether he’s relieved or disappointed until his phone buzzes again. Twice. And this time, it actually is from Marinette.

From: itsdjbubbles Sorry, I was getting some stuff ready for my next project. Listen, I’m just saying. Don’t sell yourself short as this stuff. Paris is gonna hear you up there, and it’s gonna lose its collective fucking mind.

From: Marinette hi luka ☺️ no worries, i do that too sometimes. here’s the mockup for the postcard. let me know what your band thinks, i’ll do some tweaks and send it to print. sound good?

Luka balks, both at the tone of the message and at the picture she sent. It looks almost exactly like the flyer, same color scheme and everything. The only difference seems to be in the composition, which makes sense; she’s got more of the eye for this stuff, even for someone who only “dabbles.”

To: Marinette wow, this is... thank you? that was fast. and this is really well put-together. i think they’re gonna love it.

you really weren’t kidding, huh.

Luka finds himself sinking onto his bed and staring at the message thread instead of actually doing something productive. And strangely, he’s fine with that. The more time passes, the less scary it is to see her typing back, again and again and again.

From: Marinette course i wasn’t kidding. “help” is practically my middle name to the people who matter.

and i mean, there’s only a little bit of time until your show, right? so, gotta get movin.

anyway, i gotta run. my friend needs help for his summer class and i promised i’d go visit today.

Keep me posted about your band!

♥️

There is far too much in that message for Luka to need to process. “People who matter?” “Keep me posted?” The literal heart emoji at the end? He reads their messages over and over, mostly to confirm that this really, actually just happened, but he’s not going to push his luck. Maybe she just talks to everyone like that, and more importantly, the two of them haven’t been much more than a series of transactions anyway.

A... lot of transactions.

That she’s been doing a lot of giving for.

Luka tries and at least sort of succeeds at shaking the thought from his mind; he can’t read hers, and he shouldn’t try to. He sends her one last text—cool, have a good one—and switches back to Bubbles before he can worry if his words were too casual.

To: itsdjbubbles Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess you’re not the only one? the bakery I go to, they’re offering to help too.

or, I mean, CBG is offering to help.

Bubbles’s reply doesn’t come until a few hours later. It’s presumably after that project work he mentioned, and definitely after Luka’s had some time to play out the rest of the shakes before he goes busking. His phone buzzes with the notification just as he’s about to leave, and what Bubbles has to say makes his stomach churn and his blood run both hot and cold.

From: itsdjbubbles wait. wait wait wait. hold on i just scrolled your posts.

CBG is *Marinette Dupain-Cheng?*

ohhhhhhh my dude you are in for it now.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Member: lee jaehyun aka hyunjae from tbz cause i feel like there are too many jaehyuns around now ;_; my heart can’t take too many perfect men of the same name

Genre: COLLEGE... CRUSH? idk this is probably gonna be my most crack piece (you can already tell by the track)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I wrote this at like 1.30am so please bear with me lol my inspiration always come in the middle of the night because it’s so quiet and conducive 

this will be a one shot cause i’ve got no fucking clue how to make it into a series/short novel without an actual conflict/angst/drama involved :”) if you’re a writer and you see this and you want to make a 2nd part or something, BE MY GUEST

lee hyun jae. 

who was he to me?

oh, i don’t know.

just the prettiest but handsomest man alive. if that’s even a word. 

he’s always surrounded by like, eleven other boys who are also good-looking and talented in some way or another. 

god must’ve invested his entire life into crafting these fine, fine specimens of men to be placed on earth.

maybe there was a mix up somewhere and they were supposed to be angels or demi-gods and god just fucked up. 

but i’ve got no complaints. 

i’m satisfied that i get to feast my eyes on such a gorgeous, rare, one-of-a-kind version of a person i’m sure exists nowhere else in the world. 

he’s known for being one of the most caring ones of the group. he’d make his friends laugh but watch out for them at the same time. he’s so easygoing, i wonder if he’d smile at me if i tripped him over or something. 

you might think i’m exaggerating. 

well,

i’m not.

so who am i to him?

sadly, nobody.

harsh truth.

there was absolutely nothing wrong with the man. there was a lack of flaw, and that was literally the only flaw he had. if it could even be considered as a flaw. i could spend my seconds, minutes, hours, days, just staring at him. it was so unfair that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM.

sometimes it pisses me off.

it kind of pisses me off that he doesn’t have a girlfriend despite half the school simping over him.

i mean, who wouldn’t? just look at him.

there have been rumors flying about that he was gay or something. 

doesn’t matter if he is gay though.

it simply hurts to know he’s not dating anybody.

it’ll be such a waste if such a man ends up living a life alone. a waste indeed.

so what was it that was stopping me from putting that destiny of his to a screeching stop?

well, there was just one problem. 

“hELLO, earth to y/n?” the sudden waving in your face with the heaviest textbook in your curriculum snaps you back into reality. 

“which one of the twelve are you thinking up some magical fantasy over now?” your best friend frowns at you, the vein on her arm popping from the weight of the fat textbook. 

“ah-- it doesn’t matter who i’m daydreaming about, let me have my moment, would you?” you lean back in your seat, disgruntled at her telling you what not to do with your own imagination. sometimes it was difficult to look at her without seeing all the little hints of lee hyunjae in her.

they had the same nose, but that was it. honestly, it was a miracle you just happened to make friends with one of the prettiest girls in school, and good for you, she ended up becoming your friend and stayed in that position for more than a decade. naturally, she was upgraded to the ‘best friend’ title. 

the biggest issue you had with lee hee jae was that she hated her brother getting so much attention, and she has always condemned him about it. 

which was pretty ironic, given the number of love letters that show up in her locker everyday.

but thanks to her cold, a-little-more-than-mean superficial personality, most guys don’t have enough of a pair to talk to her in person. sure, she won’t hesitate to stab a bitch, but you knew her well enough to know that if the love of her life, son young jae, were to suddenly sprout feelings for her and confess, she might just nose bleed and pass out. 

but does she know you have had the biggest, fattest crush on her older brother?

no. 

she’d kidnap you and torture you and brainwash you to unlike him. 

maybe that’s why he hasn’t got any girlfriends.

“you’re zoning out again,” she snaps her finger in your ear and the sharp click jumps you. you bare your teeth in annoyance and feign a hit towards her, but she doesn’t flinch. 

your little high school crush on her brother wasn’t getting any weaker as the years went by. in fact, it’s been getting stronger. now that you’ve seen the way he treats his friends, how kind and considerate he was, not to mention that body-- well--

let’s just say you went from just appreciating his face, to everything in general. it was only a matter of time before she finds out that the one man you were simping over out of the eleven boys was her brother.

of the eleven boys, it just had to be her brother.

“hee jae,” you pull out a pencil and start to randomly doodle in your notebook. “haven’t you ever considered talking to eric?” 

she shoots you a death glare, but you’re used to it. 

“i thought we agreed not to speak of this in school!” she leans into you and hisses, eyes piercing right through your head. if her eyes had lazers, your head would’ve been blasted off completely after years of her angry glaring. 

“no, but eric just seems so... chill, y’know? he’s either cleaning his table and packing his stuff or outside playing baseball, there’s literally nothing stopping you from talking to him.”

she rolls her eyes and snatches your pencil away from you in a bid to piss you off so you’d stop talking.

“give it back--” you snatch the stationery from her and hiss at her like a cat. “you’re literally in the damn baseball team with him. it’s not that difficult to make up a story and start a conversation with him.”

“ha,” she’s finally mastered the art of fake laughter. “easy for you to say. you simp for all eleven of them and can’t choose one for you to worry about it like i do.”

that was fun to hear.

“well, forget eric,” she waves it off. “are we doing anything after school?”

anything but going to your house. i don’t want to be stuck under the same roof as your brother, my heart would get a seizure and i’ll probably die on the spot.

“my mom’s making crepes today, and i know you love that shit,” hee jae snickers, pulling out a baseball from her bag and throwing it into the air and catching it. 

“aw, man... not the crepes,” you pout and side eye her, leaning back into your seat. 

“why are you so uptight about going to my place? you’ve been there a billion fucking times, you literally live there now.”

that’s cause i’m only over when your brother isn’t around!

“ugh, okay fine. but i gotta dash home first to grab some homework. i left some of it at home ‘cause i wasn’t expecting an invitation today.”

she squeals, showing you a part of her that nobody else has the privilege of seeing. “sick,” she gets out of the seat she dragged to yours and brings it back to where she took it from. “call my home number and tell me you’re on your way before you leave your house!”

you nod un-enthusiastically, waving her off before she leaves the classroom and returns to hers. 

you were finally back at home, showered and changed into comfortable clothes while you shoved all your homework into your bag. you leave your parents a text to tell them that you’d spend the afternoon and evening at heejae’s so they don’t have to worry about your dinner, then you dial her home number.

the phone was on it’s eighth ring, and you were already one foot out of the door. usually, it doesn’t take her that long to pick up the phone.

“this little bitch invites me over and doesn’t pick up the damn--”

“hello?”

your grip tightens around your phone and you stumble out of your house, the door swinging shut behind jumps you and you process the voice on the other end of the line. 

“uh--”

“is this y/n?”

“uh... yeah, this is she.”

he knows me?

shut up, of course he knows you. you’ve been friends with his sister for a decade!

“oh, okay, cool. heejae’s in the toilet right now and she said she’ll get it but i couldn’t stand the sound of the phone ringing.”

“ah...” your voice trails off, unsure of how to respond. you were just preoccupied with how soothing his voice was, and just imagining his face with the phone to his ear on the other line was just so--

“hello? y/n? you there?”

“yeah, yeah, sorry i was... crossing a road.” you weren’t even moving; you were just planted into the pavement like a tree. 

“actually, why don’t i go and pick you up? your place is on the way to the shopping mall and my mom just told me to go get some groceries, do you want to tag along? we can head back to my place afterwards and you can get the crepes you like.”

where in the world was he getting all this information from?

“uh--” you stammer into the receiver for the billionth time. he must think you have some kind of speech problem by now.

“you know what? just hang tight for a few minutes. heejae’s still in the bathroom so she doesn’t get a say in what i do if i decide it without her presence,” you hear him walk around on the house and call out for his mom to tell her he was leaving for the shopping mall. “you live on 31st avenue, right? the white house with the blue roof?”

“uH--” you really need to get a grip on yourself.

“i guessed. hang tight, i’ll be there in a sec! see you!”

hyunjae doesn’t bother to wait for you to hang up before he does. the line goes dead and the beep nearly deafens you, but you couldn’t believe your ears. you were about to be in the same vehicle as lee hyun jae. one of the most popular boys in school, the handsomest man alive, the love of your li--

whoa.

too fast.

you shake the nonsensical daydreams out of your head and walk back to the steps of your door. while waiting, you can’t help but to let the quiet crush on him run your mind recklessly. 

what if he was just messing with you and he’s just chilling at home? what if he knows that you have a crush on him and he’s just having fun? what if he thinks you’re weird for hanging out with his sister? what if he’s caught you staring and he thinks you’re a creep? oh my god, what if heejae’s told him embarrassing stories about you and now he’s going to poke fun at you with that? 

you stare blankly at the little weeds in the cracks of the pavement, the thoughts in your head running wild as you slowly convince yourself he’s not going to turn up. 

but the familiar silver family car rolls up at the end of the pavement, and the windows roll down to reveal hyunjae in sunglasses wearing a simple white tee-shirt. 

“did i keep you waiting?” he pushes down his sunglasses and looks at you over the rim, one arm dangling outside the window. 

you shake your head, suddenly losing all ability to speak. 

“alrighty then, get in. we’re heading for the shopping mall.” he nods his head towards the car, retracting his arm back into the vehicle. 

your heart was thumping so aggressively and so loudly you were sure he could hear it. hell, he could probably see it. 

“how’s school? i haven’t seen you around back in my house after... what, about five years? you were always around when i was out, if i didn’t know better, i’d think you were avoiding me,” his voice was so alluring, you had to constantly remind yourself that he was actually saying something.

“uh-- well....” 

come on, say something. anything.

“i guess god just doesn’t want us to meet.”

no, it’s because you were avoiding him. what the flying fuck was that?

he laughs heartily, his teeth catching the light of the afternoon sun and glistens in your vision. “if that’s the case then god really needs to give me a break.”

your little-crush-on-him morphs into a tiny character in your head and it starts yelling at you. did he just say what you think he just said?

“no, i mean,” he glances at you, hands still on the steering wheel once he notices you’ve gone eerily silent. “i would’ve spoken to you and tried to be actual friends with you sooner, but heejae never wants me talking to her friends. you can imagine how she is with her best friend.”

you sigh heavily, the mention of your best friends’ name loosening some knots in your stomach. “lee hee jae is just something. not sure what, but something.”

“it does baffle me to think about how you put up with her for what, nine years now?”

you were looking out the window, and the idea of being in the same car as hyunjae doesn’t seem as tormenting as it seemed once you realise the best support you’ve had for the last ten years was lee hee jae. 

“eleven, actually,” you say without looking at him, eyes zeroing on a couple walking a dog on the pavement by the road. “yeah i guess she can be a handful sometimes, especially with how cold and mean she is on the outside...”

the car stops at a traffic junction.

“but put her in front of one guy and she’ll pass the fu--”

“‘one guy’?” he interrupts.

your eyes widen and you suck your lips between your teeth, wincing a little to yourself when you realise what you just said. 

“lee hee jae has a crush on someone?” you hear him scoff and a brotherly chuckle rushes out his lips. “do you know who it is?”

you were about to protest and stop him from trying to dig the information that you nearly disclosed, but he interrupts you again.

“y’know what? don’t tell me. i’ll guess. i’ll just watch your reactions while i’m at it.”

you grit your teeth and tighten your temples. you don’t realise how sweaty your palms were until your phone slides out from underneath your skin when the car starts to move. 

“is it kevin? no wait-- doesn’t feel like it.”

is he going to just start talking on his own until he finds someone he thinks suits her and then look at my face to read my expression?

“i don’t think she’s the kind to go for someone older than me or my age. so that takes sangyeon, jacob, younghoon-- is it younghoon? no, it’s not... ah, no matter how i think about it, someone nearer your age pops up. haknyeon, sunwoo, eric. it’s one of the three.”

that wasn’t so hard. hee jae must be easy for her brother to read.

“are you really going to let me play this elimination game alone?” he raises a brow and turns the wheel, driving into the car park of the shopping mall. the little gesture causes your heart to involuntarily skip a beat, and you could see his eyes folding even behind the sunglasses when he turns his head.

“your sister would kill me if she knew i even started this conversation, so i’m just refraining from deepening my grave.”

you hear him laugh through his nose. “relax, i’m not going to tell her you said this. i’ve seen the way she looks at us whenever we’re in school. she gives me a look of disgust but she always reserves a blush on her cheeks for someone. i just can’t put my finger on who it is.”

“you mean you notice the way she looks at you and your friends? that’s a little weird.”

the car starts to reverse into a parking lot and he pulls the gears into parking mode. there was a short silence in the air as he lays his finger on the start up button of the car and he turns to look at you, now without the sunglasses to block your view of his eyes.

“you’d be surprised that i notice a lot of things.”

he flashes you a smile and reaches for the door on his side, pushing himself out as if he didn’t just expose both you and your best friend. 

you were just tailing hyunjae while he told you what was on the grocery list, and you start filling the basket. he doesn’t stop guessing though, but the entire time spent with him only made you feel like he was so comfortable to be around.

besides his pretty face, of course. 

you were waiting for him to pay for the items while you stood outside when heejae’s caller ID showed up on your phone screen.

“where the hell are you?”

“hello to you too,” you roll your eyes. “your brother said he was going to get me and now we’re shopping for groceries before we return to your place. didn’t your mom tell you?”

“what? no, she didn’t. she just told me he went out to get groceries.”

“huh?” you look over your shoulder to see hyunjae paying the cashier. “are you saying that your mom lied about me?”

“now, why would she do that?”

“she’s your mom, not mine. why don’t you ask her instead?” 

hyunjae picks up the grocery bags and walks towards you, looking into them and making sure he didn’t miss out anything. 

“this is so fucking weird. where’s hyunjae? pass the phone to him,”

“we’re done, let’s go.” hyunjae stops by your side, noticing that you were on the phone. 

“don’t you dare hang up on me, pass the phone to him!” hee jae screams into the receiver. you wince and pull it away from your ear, shooting hyunjae a look of slight confusion as you hand him the phone. 

“it’s your sister.”

he sighs and places the bags on the floor, wiping his hands on his pants before taking it. 

you could hear hee jae screaming at him on the other end, but hyunjae’s face doesn’t change one bit besides that sweet smile plastered to his lips while he let his sister berate him. hyunjae got bored extremely quickly, and he was already removing the phone from his ear while he repeated the word ‘bye’ into the receiver. 

he hands the phone back to you and hangs it up for you, picking up the bags and heading back to the car. 

by the time you reach the road right outside their house, heejae was standing on the porch, anxiously tapping her foot on the wooden boards. 

“oh, no,” he groans, looking out the window and observing heejae like she was a lion in the savannah. “well, just another day for us people who have to deal with miss lee.”

he says so coyly, pushing himself out of the car and going to open the door of the backseat. you help yourself out, and heejae storms toward you, fists balled by her side and steam coming out through her ears.

you thought she was going to scream at you for accepting a ride from hyunjae, but she dodges you and opens the backseat door opposite hyunjae to yell at him in the car. 

“what made you think it was a great idea to pick her up? didn’t we have a deal that both our friends were out of bounds to each other?”

wait what--

“yah, lee hyunjae!” she yells at the top of her voice as he ignores her, pulling out of the car and walking towards the house. “we had a deeeeeaaaaaaal!” 

you grab onto heejae and turn her around, trying to peel her attention away from her brother and to you so you could get a grasp on what she just said.

“did you just say what i think you just said?!” you blink in surprise at her, and the thought of hyunjae finding an excuse just to spend time with you melts you into a puddle of hopeless goop. 

“no,” she says with a stern face, lifting a finger and pointing at you in the face. “no.”

“well--” she yanks herself out of your grip and turns to the house. “what’s so bad about dating your siblings’ friends? you like eric.”

she literally screeches to a stop and turns around with eyes that were burning. honestly, it was pretty funny to see her so riled up, knowing that she wasn’t angry at you. she was angry with hyunjae for... whatever he did, and the fact that she just had to fall for someone in hyunjae’s circle of friends. it was a slap in her face, or whoever thought about the no-dating-siblings’-friends pact.

“is that why you don’t want to talk to eric? because of this... deal?” you raise a brow, entertained, completely forgetting that there was the slightest chance that hyunjae might’ve been looking for an excuse to hang out with you, and he had just succeeded.

she had no words, but her silence was enough to let you unpack the situation.

“ah... i see,” you fold your arms across your chest and smirk at her. then you remember you were standing right outside lee hyunjae’s house. this was your chance to dig the information out from her. “so if this deal is stopping you from talking to eric, then is it safe to assume that it’s similar for hyunjae?”

you could see her bottom lip quivering upon your question, as she realises that you’ve finally found out why she was keeping a distance from her own teammate. but her silence also pushes you further into confusion. does that mean--

“look, you can’t date hyunjae, okay? i forbid it. the last time a girl dated someone in that group of friends of his, they broke up because she got bullied by other girls in school. i told hyunjae he wasn’t allowed to date any of my friends so i wouldn’t need to beat the fuck out of any bullies and get myself expelled,” she huffed and hugged her torso. “and i made him agree to that deal by promising him that neither i nor any of my friends would date his.”

you shake your head, fingers pressing into your temples and hair while you let the story unfold from her narration. 

“my mom didn’t tell me about him going to get you because... well... he--”

“i like you!”

your heart stops and you think your blood stopped flowing through you as well. heejae’s head snaps back to look at the house and the source of noise, and she pulls out a shoe to hurl it at hyunjae. 

“ah--!” he starts yelling once she reaches him with the shoe. “let me at least try, god damn it! sunwoo only let his girlfriend get bullied because he’s a dumbass-- ow! but i’m not gonna let her get bullied, i promise!”

you slowly turn your head to see hyunjae trying to dodge every hit, and he starts running away from her and toward you. he pulls you in front of him so you were standing between him and heejae, who was holding onto the shoe so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. 

“y/n, take a chance with me, would you? i’ve always noticed the both of you looking at us but it always bothered me that i have no idea who either of you are looking at--”

he dodges a side swing, and your view of heejae trying to reach him was pretty hilarious, if you weren’t acting as his shield. 

“what makes you think she’ll say yes?! she can’t even choose--”

“i do, heejae,” finally, you’ve decided to shoot your shot. heejae freezes with the shoe in mid-air, and hyunjae’s hold on your shoulders tighten. “i’ve only said i can’t choose only because i didn’t want you to know that it was your brother i liked.”

you couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. all that effort to keep it hidden only to expose yourself infront of both heejae and her brother at once?!

she looked like she wanted to slap you with the shoe now, and you flinch when she shifts, closing your eyes to brace for impact. 

but it doesn’t come. 

you open one eye and look at her, and she looked like she’s completely resigned to fate. she shakes her head like your mother would when you did something stupid, and she squats to get her shoe back on her feet. 

“i give up,” she grunts, shoving her feet into her shoe and tying the laces messily before standing up again. “of all eleven of them, him?” she raises an agitated brow and points to the boy hiding behind you. 

“it wouldn’t have been so annoying if it had been one of his friends, but him?!” 

you turn back to look at hyunjae, who was giving you puppy eyes as if he was already your boyf--

too fast. 

“does it look like i chose to like him?” you pout, hands reaching out to her and trying to play for affection. 

“for fucks’ sake,” she groans, face palming herself. “now i’m going to look like a shitty friend and sister if i don’t let you two date.”

“on the bright side..” you pull her into a hug and tighten your hold, knowing that whatever you were going to say next was going to warrant another violent outburst from her. “if hyunjae and i date, that means the deal’s broken and...”

“you can talk to eric now.”

“AH! SO IT’S ERIC?!”

[kanerallels]

Congratulicitations on your eleventy-first follower, vod'ika!!!!!!!

For the writing asks: Runo for four hundre-- whoops sorry I went Jeporady for a minute there.

Runo + Modern AU + Imagine your OTP for six hundred, plz.

My pleasure, vod!!!

Pairing: Noah St. Claire x Ruya Lewis

Word count: 1,274

Warnings/tags: Rated G (for the giant crush Noah just got)

With the benefit of hindsight, Noah thought, the whole thing had been very badly thought out.

He’d been in class, pretending to listen to his incredibly boring teacher, and doodling in his notebook. Which was for school, obviously. If anyone looked inside, that’s what they would see. School stuff. Not drawings. However, if anyone tried to look, he’d cram one of his textbooks down their throat.

Anyways, he’d been in the middle of that when a student to his left asked a question. For whatever reason, Noah had glanced over at them, and his heart had nearly jumped out of his chest. It was a girl, around his age. She had reddish brown hair, with blonde highlights along the tips, light brown skin, and a look of curiosity in her eyes that Noah liked the look of.

He wasn’t saying that she was drop dead gorgeous, but he definitely wasn’t not saying that.

As the professor kept talking, Noah surreptitiously flipped to a new page in his notebook and started drawing, keeping his gaze on the girl. She had her chin propped on one hand as she listened, the other holding a pencil that she tapped against her desk to a rhythm Noah could swear he recognized. There was something about the slight smile she wore that was totally entrancing, and Noah concentrated fiercely on getting it right, his pencil moving quickly.

Finally, he had a rough sketch of her completed on the page in front of him-- and just in time. The bell signifying the end of the class rang, and Noah got to his feet, closing his notebook and wondering how he was supposed to survive a few more hours of monotony.

He took a step forward, and crashed straight into the girl, who’d just leapt to her feet. Both of their books and notebooks went flying, and she let out a gasp. “Oh-- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you--”

“You’re good, it’s on me,” Noah assured her, quickly scrambling to pick up some of the books she’d dropped and wondering what on earth was up with him today. Usually, he’d just shoot the perpetrator a glare, pick up his stuff, and keep moving. And yet, he found himself handing the girl her a few notebooks as she shot him a quick smile.

The smile was enough to make his heart rate double, and he stood stock still as the girl shoved her books and notebooks into her bag and headed for the door. Finally, Noah shook himself out of his daze and glanced down at his notebook, which he was still holding.

Except that he wasn’t. In his hand was the spiral bound green notebook that he used for actual notes. It also looked nothing like the brown leather book he carried with him everywhere. What-- how-- Noah flashed back to a few minutes earlier, when he’d handed a few notebooks to the girl, completely unaware of his actions.

And one of them had been his. Which had a sketch of her in it.

Oh, CRAP. Indulging in a few more venomous curses, Noah bolted out of the classroom, barely stopping to scoop up his books before he raced down the hall, scanning for any sign of the girl.

To his relief, he finally spotted her heading out of the building, probably towards her next class. Which is nowhere near mine, Noah realized with a groan. Well, he was failing math anyways. May as well double down and skip class to avoid a lifetime of embarrassment. He headed after the girl, wondering how the heck he was supposed to broach this conversation.

At first, she didn’t seem to notice him behind her. This did not last long, because Noah was neither short nor remotely subtle, and he’d cultivated his “mess with me and you will regret it” vibes too long to give them up for a little bit of embarrassing subterfuge. She glanced back at him at one point, and Noah instantly pretended to be absorbed in one of his textbooks without really reading a word of the text, loitering next to the wall.

After a few seconds, he peeked over the top, and she was still there, hands on her hips, an unamused expression on her face. “Why are you following me?” she asked.

“...I’m not?”

“This isn’t the way to your class, because I’d know if I’d seen you there before,” she said. “Also, you’re reading that textbook upside down.”

“Huh?” Noah looked at it, and realized that it was, in fact, upside down. “Uh… I like to do that?”

“Not convincing. Tell me what you’re doing or I’ll call security.”

“Whoa, whoa-- please don’t do that.” Sticking the textbook under his arm, Noah braced himself, then said, “You have my sketchbook.”

The girl’s eyebrow shot up. “What?”

“When I bumped into you earlier, I accidentally handed you my notebook with your stuff,” Noah said, praying no one else was hearing this conversation.

Frowning, the girl asked, “Then why didn’t you ask for it back?”

“Um. Reasons.” He saw her skeptical expression and sighed. “There’s… maybe kinda a picture in there that I didn’t exactly want y-- anyone to see.”

The hostility in her expression faded, and the girl started digging through her bookbag, saying, “Okay. But I’m definitely looking.”

“What?” Alarm flooded through Noah. “Why?”

“I want to make sure you’re not just some creeper who’s using this as a dumb excuse,” she explained, which made sense. “And I’m also very curious.”

This could go well. “Maybe don’t--” Noah started, but she’d found his sketchbook and flipped it open to the most recent page before he could finish his sentence.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment she didn’t speak. Noah was desperately trying to figure out what to say when she said, “This is… really good.”

Hmm. Unexpected, Noah thought. “Thanks?” he said cautiously.

“I mean, it’s a little weird that you started drawing me when you don’t even know me,” she said, handing him back the notebook. “But I’m gonna choose to be complimented.”

Exhaling, Noah tucked the notebook under his arm, and shot her a quick smile. “Well, there’s one way to fix that,” he said. “I’m Noah St. Claire.”

Returning his smile, the girl said, “Ruya Lewis.”

Noah felt his heart beat a little faster at the smile, and managed to keep his expression nonchalant. “Nice to meet you, Ruya,” he said.

“You, too,” Ruya told him. “Although I have to ask-- do you meet every girl you know by stalking them after you’ve drawn them?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly give me much of a choice when it came to drawing you,” Noah said, feeling his grin turn into a smirk. “Not with that Mona Lisa smile of yours.”

Ruya’s eyes widened again, and to Noah’s delight, she turned slightly red. “Okay, charmer,” she said, grinning. “Why don’t you let me get to class, and I’ll talk to you later.”

“How do you plan on finding me?” Noah protested.

“Oh, it’ll be easy. Everyone knows about the infamous Noah St. Claire, who got suspended in the first week of college because he punched out a professor,” Ruya said, smirking.

Whoops. He’d honestly forgotten about that. “Don’t let my reputation scare you off,” Noah told her, and she laughed.

“Duly noted. Uh, you should probably get going-- aren’t you late for class?”

Noah glanced at his watch and discovered that he was, in fact, nearly late. “Worth it,” he said, flashing her a grin, and then bolted down the hallway as fast as his feet could carry him, hearing Ruya’s laugh behind him.

[1-800-roflmao]

Wash Day Delight Pt. 4

Rating:  General Audiences

WARNINGS:  None

Fandom:  Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships:  Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader,  Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader, Papyrus (FSG) & Reader, Papyrus (Swapfell) & Reader

Characters:  Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Additional Tags:  Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is poc, Reader has curly hair,  Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Friendship, Wholesome, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I'm Bad At Summaries, Not Beta Read, Romance if you squint, Subtext, Let Papyrus be Sassy, Edge Is The Unwilling Dad Friend, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Humor, Slice of Life, Teasing Edge Is Fun, Papy is Best Boi

*Split this chapter into two. Will be posting both today. Morning thoughts and Papy has a great idea! Tried avoiding using y/n as much as I could, but had to this chapter.

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

She would say morning came too quickly, but in all honesty, this was technically her second time waking up that morning.  Somehow, in spite of the tireless workout she had been put through the night before, she had woken up at the usual time right before her alarm--that was NOT set cause she turned that off with plans to sleep in today--would have gone off.  She’d spared a single, groggy glance at her phone’s clock.  The notifications lining the screen not even registering in her mind.  No, she’d get her well earned sleep in had been and without further adieu, she had put the phone back down, rolled over, and snuggled back in for another few hours of sleep.  

    That had been earlier.  Now, she blinked awake as light from the mid-morning sun sneaked through the slim openings of the curtains just behind her bed.  Blearily, her eyes followed the rays path across her form, her bed, and eventually over the floor where it seemed to highlight her shed clothes along with the open bathroom.  Right… she had forgotten to brush her teeth in her haste to sleep.  Rolling her tongue and opening and closing her mouth, she winced as she felt her cheek move against the now very cold wet spot on her pillow.  Well, at least that second round of sleep was apparently heavy and content.  

“Eugth…” Not that it made waking up in your drool anymore pleasant.  Trying to sit up resulted in even more groans as her muscles protested.  Yup, there were those core muscles that had been oddly silent yesterday acting up today.  Her arm she had tried to push up on had not been too much trouble, but her shoulder had twinged and she had gone back down.  She had managed to at least roll on her back and away from the drool pool though.  Positives.  Focus on the positives.  For a few moments, she just let herself completely relax into the mattress and pillows, just breathing--in and out, slow and even, again and again until all her tension dispersed. 

“They really did me in,” she mumbled as she began to roll her wrists, “But I’ve got too much to get done to be lyin’ around here all day feelin’ miserable.”  Too much considering her now very awake mind realized she had forgotten to wrap her hair, but thankfully she had splurged on satin sheets and pillowcases, so it shouldn’t be too bad.  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, she didn’t get her wrap sweaty… “Still gonna wash it.”  By now, she had started stretching and working her shoulders with careful, slow rolls and reaches.  The more she moves, the more she’ll loosen up and actually be able to function.  She just couldn’t overdue it.

As she moved onto her legs, she couldn’t stifle a little moan of discomfort as she lifted one limb at time to carefully draw her knee in towards her stomach before extending again.  It took time, but eventually she was able to push herself up into a sitting position.  Muscles in her back, abdomen, and surprising what felt like her butt that she hadn’t been aware of protested, but a few more deep breathes calmed them.  Seeing her phone laying on the sheets near her, she guessed earlier that morning she hadn’t bothered to put the phone back where it went exactly, but current her was very thankful for her sleepy self’s carelessness.

Picking up the device, she decided to take a moment to rest before continuing her war against her body.  Besides, she could remember that she had messages to reply to.  Tapping the screen, she input her pattern and tapped on the messages app.  The first one she opened was Coffee’s.  “Oooh,” she cooed as she looked over the drawing once again with fresh eyes.  Last night, she remembered thinking the hairstyle was cute, but now she could see the little details he included, like his choice of including a custom undercut design.  Could her barber achieve that?  She’d have to ask, but for now.

(to JavaBoi)

Flooffie:  Good morning! 

Flooffie:  Sorry about not replying last night

Flooffie:  This hairstyle is so cute

Flooffie:  And the undercut design is SICK!

Flooffie:  In a good way 

Flooffie:  I’d love to wear it, but I’ll have to check in with my barber about the undercut.

She waited a moment to see if he’d answer, but no little dots popped up so she guessed he was possibly still sleeping or he was busy.  Most likely the former.  Leaving that conversation, she sent a quick message to her barber asking how complicated a design he would be willing to do on an undercut.  She hadn’t expected an answer, but no sooner had she went to click the back button, his answer popped up.  His answer surmised that he had done more complicated pieces, but it all depends on the design.  “Makes sense…” she mumbled before forwarding the doodle to him.   It took him a moment longer to reply this time, but his answer had her beaming: “Sure, just get a better reference.  Bigger too.” 

(to JavaBoi)

Flooffie:  I feel like I’m spamming you.  Sorry!

Flooffie: But I got with my barber and he said he could do it

Flooffie:  Just he needs a better ref

Flooffie:  Could you draw it bigger?  

Flooffie:  I’ll treat you!

        She included some pleading and heart emojis for good measure, even though she was sure he wouldn’t mind one bit.  Moving on, she opened up a certain someone’s convo, eager to see how he reacted to her last text.  A little laugh bubbled past her smile as she saw his reply, full of exclamation marks and a little pause between two of the replies.

(11:33 PM) Papaya:  ….

(11:40 PM) Papaya:  !!!!!!!

Papaya:  TOUCHE! ALTHOUGH I HAD TO GOOGLE WHAT YOU HAD MEANT

Papaya:  MY SKILLS AT PICKING UP THESE IDIOMS IS IMPROVING

Papaya:  WHO CAME UP WITH THESE THINGS?  WHY? WHY NOT JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN?!

(11:45 PM) Papaya:  YOUR LACK OF RESPONSE MUST MEAN YOU HAVE FINALLY GONE TO  BED

Papaya:  GOOD

(12:01 AM) Papaya:  SWEET DREAMS, (Y/N)

    Her amusement at how Papyrus could continue a conversation with no one there was overshadowed by the warmth the last text brought.  It was such a simple little thing.  It’s not like he had even called her a pet name, but it still had her flushing and turning her face away from the phone like that would somehow ease the heat.  Maybe it was because she could see the timestamp and knew he had taken the time to pick up the phone again after setting it down for a while just to send that message.  Was it narcissistic to think she was his last thought before he fell asleep?  “It’s too early to be this flustered!” she whined, the fingers of her free hand playing with ends of one of her braids, “All over a text that might not have any deeper meaning…”     

    After her little grumble, she did her best to ignore the sting the words brought.  One more deep breath, she turned back to her phone and the texts, allowing a small smile.  There was no sense in making herself miserable.  It was still a dear friend thinking of her after all.  

    (to Papaya)

Flooffie:  Morning Papi!  Hope you had sweet dreams as well

        Before she could start her next message, she saw those little dots pop up and chuckled.  Of Course he was up already.  

Papaya:   GOOD MORNING!

Papaya:   I DO NOT REMEMBER MY DREAMS, BUT I’M SURE THEY WERE GREAT!

Flooffie:  Just like you, eh?

Papaya:   OFCOURSE!

Papaya:   UM… HOW ARE YOU FEELING THIS MORNING?

Papaya:   NOT TOO SORE I HOPE

    She snorted at that before replying.

Floofie:   Like I got hit by a 18 wheeler in the fast lane and somehow survived to regret it.

Papaya:   ….

Papaya:   APOLOGIES

Papaya:   BUT ARE YOU COMPARING YOUR PAIN TO GETTING HIT BY A SEMI?!

        She could just feel his panic and knew he would start fretting through the text.  She felt just a little guilty laughing at his reaction.  Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult to calm him down and assure him she was simply exaggerating.  No, he didn’t need to take her to the hospital.  No, he had not broken her.  At Least as far as she knew he hadn’t.  

Throughout, she had slowly worked her way to the edge of the bed and now sat with her legs hanging off.  In between texts with Papyrus, he opened a few of the others.  One was Edge checking in with a reminder that she shouldn’t over exert herself.  She went to send a little thumbs up, but paused and instead juggled between two responses.  Which would mess with him more?  Biting her bottom lip, she finally settled on one and quickly sent it:  “Yes, Daddy~”.  Knowing Edge, he was up, but wouldn’t look at the message until he had a moment, so she closed the convo.  She could see the damage later.

More puns and jokes which she graced with appropriate responses: groans at the especially bad ones and chuckles at the ones that were actually clever.  She of course made her approval known with quick little texts and gifs; the bad ones received the same treatment.  None of it was mean and to tell the truth, it only fanned the flames for these gremlins as she had learned.  They seemed determined to dig up the worst puns they could manage.  By the time, she finished replying, she had made it to the bathroom and was finally taking care of her dental hygiene.  

Her phone now dinged instead of buzzing with each new text.  Most of which were from Papyrus she assumed.  Toothbrush in her mouth, she picked up her phone and opened the texting app again as she resumed brushing with her other hand.  She had been correct.  A line of texts from her friend popped up on the screen and they ranged from bringing up his question about idioms from last night to checking in that she was actually taking the time to rest.  She thanked the stars that her phone wasn’t on the larger side as it allowed her to hold and type with one hand.  

Flooffie:  Decided to make today wash day since people are INSISTING I rest.  Was due for one anyway.

Papaya:   WASH DAY?  YOU HAVE A DAY DEDICATED TO WASHING?

Papaya:   I THOUGHT HUMANS PRUNE IF THEY ARE IN WATER TOO LONG?

She let him get out all his ponderings and ramblings, which took a good minute, before she finally jumped in.  Although she’d love to convince him it was a secret, sacred holiday and ritual that humans have to partake in a few days a year for… reasons, she fought down her inner prankster and cursed Cash for his influence on her.  

Flooffie:  It’s nothing elaborate… kinda?

Flooffie:  It’s just that people like me tend to have a lot of hair and it takes time to properly care for it.

Flooffie:  So, we make a day of it.  Chill and relax, pamper ourselves, etc

She was a bit surprised he hadn’t replied immediately and had actually finished with her dental routine by the time he finally texted back.  

Papaya:  SO IT IS A DAY DEDICATED TO YOUR HAIR?!

Oh, she hadn’t seen this much enthusiasm from him for her hair in a good bit.  As his texts came through, she felt touched he wanted to learn more and she was happy to inform him, best she could over text anyway.  There was another long pause in between his text.  Just long enough for her to reach for her shower handle as she decided to finally take a shower and get started on her day.  Her phone dinged and Papyrus changed all her plans.

Papaya:  WHY DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR WASH DAY AT OUR HOUSE?!!

[leelysian]

Changbin as your older brother AU 💖✨

genre: fluff, bullet point fic

word count: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

Disclaimer: I do not personally know Changbin. This work is purely fiction and my own idea. I took inspiration from his on screen persona. Please do not translate or re-upload my work.

A/N: hi :) Sorry if this is kinda bad. I’m running out of ideas for this series(?). It’s really hard to write these aus for the members when there’s limited knowledge about them and when you’re trying to make everything seem different without making it seem like they’re all one dimensional and cut from the same cloth. Thank you to everyone who has been reading these older brother aus and thank you for being patient. Please leave some feedback, it really keeps me going. ❤️

☆ Let’s start with you as babies.

☆ Changbin would for sure as kiddy questions like “How did the baby get inside mummy’s tummy?” “When will baby come out?” “How does baby poop?”

☆ Your parents either answered him vaguely or somehow dodged his questions.

☆ Would sleep in your parents bedroom close to your mum to protect her baby bump.

☆ Would be hella excited to feel you kick in your mum’s tummy.

☆ Would say cute things to the baby bump. “Come out quickly baby I can’t wait to play with you.” “We can play with *insert favourite toy* together.” “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” I am close to tears

☆ Doesn’t care about the gender.

☆ When you were born, he was extremely excited to see you but little Binnie patiently waited till your parents had their moment first until they ushered him to the hospital bed.

☆ He was wide eyed as he held you as if scared to hurt you. He smiled when he stroked your cheek with a finger and smiled wider when you grabbed onto his finger.

☆ CUDDLES, CUDDLES AAAAAAAND MORE CUDDLES

☆ Tried to help your parents take care of you but most of the time failed.

☆ *tries to put pants on you* *gets kicked in the face instead*

☆ The only thing he could properly do was cuddle you as he fed you a bottle and somehow you ate properly if he was the one feeding you when you were being fussy.

☆ *you two fall asleep while he’s holding you*

☆ Adoring/curious stares.

☆ Fed you a bit of lemon for jokes when you were starting to grow teeth and had the time of his fricking life when he saw your reaction.

☆ I’m talking the kind of laughs he does with his whole body.

☆ Helped you learn how to walk patiently. Just laughed when you fell on your butt.

☆ Taught you how to high 5 at a very young age.

☆ You talked to him a lot. Not like he understood what you said because it was mostly babbling but it was fun for both of you.

☆ You broke a lot of his toys. He’d get upset until he got new ones.

☆ The one toy he never shared with you was Gyu, his plushie.

☆ Fast forward you’re older and know how to walk and talk coherently, Changbin is a kid.

☆ Changbin wants cookies but they’re on the top shelf and your mum purposefully put them there so neither of you could reach.

☆ “Changbin what are you doing?” 

☆ Changbin: 👀

☆”I’m gonna tell mum~”

☆ “NO DON’T. If you help me, I’ll give you a cookie then you have to promise me you won’t tell mum.”

☆ Your smart ass contemplated for a few seconds before you agreed, “Ok what do we do?”

☆ “If I lift you up can you grab the jar? Don’t drop it.”

☆ “Yes.”

☆ Somehow both of you managed to retrieve the jar unscathed. Why none of you thought to grab a chair and do it, I don’t know.

☆ One cookie turned to two then three until the jar was half empty and your dad caught you. 

☆ Everyone except you two with crumbs around your mouths in the room:️  

👁️👄👁️

☆ Your dad walked in with brooding eyes. He grabbed a cookie and started eating quietly, “It’s a secret.”

☆ All three of you smiled happily and continued munching on the cookies.

☆ Until a while later your mum walked in and gasped, “YOU ATE ALL THE COOKIES?! *insert dad’s name* YOU WERE IN ON THIS TOO!”

☆ The three of you gulped nervously until you said, “No mum look! We saved a few for you!” The three of you smile innocently.

☆ Your mum sighed and smiled exasperatedly. “This is the last time.” A chorus of agreement sang throughout the room yet nobody meant a single word.

☆ Most of the time you two were hyperactive and played around so much you’d be knocked out cold by the time it was around 9 pm. 

☆ Your parents had to lug you to your shared room.

☆ You two played tag a lot, he was really fast so you’d always get tagged very quickly.

☆ HIDE AND SEEK

☆ Running. So much running. You’re the hyper kids.

☆ Rock paper scissors. Winner flicks the loser’s forehead. Changbin always took the penalty but never really doled it out on you, if he did it wasn’t too hard. 

☆ Races. “LAST ONE IS A ROTTEN EGG!” 

☆ Changbin could easily win, but sometimes he slowed down purposefully to let you win for a change.

☆ Giggles. Giggles everywhere. Giggles all the time.

☆ Pillow forts in your room. 

☆ Tickle fights.

☆ Cuddling together while watching cartoons.

☆ You thought he was cool.

☆ He liked you thinking so highly of him.

☆ Made him want to be even cooler for you.

☆ He’d ruffle your hair playfully.

☆ He’d pinch your nose. “AAAAHHH”

☆ He’d pull your hair.

☆ PIGGY BACK RIDES!!!!!!!!!

☆ Such a joker. It was harmless fun.

☆ Once you doodled on his school notes. He got mad and stopped talking to you.

☆ He rarely got angry at you, sure you two bickered sometimes and sometimes got whiny at each other.

☆ You apologised with a treat you got, instead of eating it by yourself, you gave it to him as a peace offering. 

☆ He didn’t eat it himself, he shared. “It’s okay just don’t do it again. These are important. You’ll know when you get older.”

☆ “Ok. I’m sorry.”

☆ Things became alright again.

☆ Fast forward you’re tweens/teens/young adults.

☆ The dynamic is wild.

☆ You two would always goof around like idiots.

☆ Changbin annoyed you a lot.

☆ “Y/N look over there!” you’re stuck in visible confusion. *smacks your head and runs* 

☆ “CHANGBIN!”

☆ You’re eating chips. “Y/n what’s that?” “What’s what?” *steals bag* 

☆ “When are you gonna stop tricking me?”

☆ “When are you gonna stop falling for that?” 

☆ You get pissed.

☆ Then it escalates into a wrestling match until ultimately you get hurt and start nearly crying in pain.

☆ “FUCK! SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY HERE YOU CAN HIT ME BACK. PLEASE DON’T TELL MUM! PLEASE STOP CRYING!” 

☆ You’re watching tv peacefully. Changbin walks in with a nerf gun/water gun. “REACH FOR THE SKY!”

☆ The living room turns into a warzone or a set for mission impossible.

☆ You ‘borrow’ his clothes. “Y/N STOP STEALING MY SHIT!”

☆ He ‘borrows’ your charger. “GET YOUR OWN CHARGER CHANGBIN!”

☆ He casually strolls into the living room, sits next to you with feet propped up on the table, snatches the remote when you’re not looking and changes the channel. 

☆ “HEY I WAS WATCHING THAT!”

☆ “Well too bad. I don’t wanna watch it.”

☆ “GIMME THE REMOTE!” “No :}”

☆ Another wrestling match for the remote.

☆ You hide his glasses. Basically keep them with you.

☆ “Hey y/n have you seen my glasses?” “Nope.”

☆ He looks EVERYWHERE. 

☆ You keep them on top of the tv when he’s away. “Hey Changbin found it on the tv.”

☆ “That’s weird I don’t remember putting them there. The heck?”

☆ “Maybe you’re just losing your mind. Already becoming an oldie?”

☆ “I may be old but I can still kick your ass.”

☆ You’re the younger sibling that either grows up to the same height as him quicker or grows taller than him somehow.

☆ He hates it. You thrive on it. “Hehe shortie. Can you even reach?”

☆ So he started working out to tone up.

☆ You’re barely able to lift a heavy box. He picks it up with ease. “Do you even lift?”

☆ He’s washing the dishes. You leave your dish for him and sneak out. “Y/N! I SWEAR-”

☆ You have a lit music taste because of him. 

☆ You’re sleeping, he’s up early. You need to go to school. Instead of waking you up like a normal person, he pulls the blankets completely off of you and tackles you. “Y/N WAKE UP!”

☆ “CHANGBIN YOU CRAZY BASTARD! DO YOU WANNA DIE?!”

☆ You two are eating. He’ll finish eating seemingly at the speed of light and stare at you eating. “I’m not sharing.”

☆ “I didn’t say anything.”

☆ awkward silence

☆ You pass your food to him. “You owe me, pabbit (pig + rabbit)”

☆ Both of you forget about it later on.

☆ He’s hella clumsy.

☆ He’d definitely break a glass or plate or vase.

☆ He’s the type to fix something just enough to make it seem not broken so the next person who uses it would think they broke it.

☆ Anything to not get his ass handed to him by mummy dearest.

☆ You do this thing to annoy him which is basically mock/copy him when he tells you something. 

☆ “Hey you know-” “Hey you know-” “you know that-” “you know that-” this continues a few more times until he screams and tackles you.

☆ You did this thing where you literally jumped on his back when he was unaware and you'd stick to him. The scream was worth bursting your eardrums. Worked every time.

☆ He was built he could carry you.

☆ Another thing is copying his actions.

☆ He yawns, you yawn. He scratches his nose, you copy. He stretches, you stretch. He shifts, you copy. 

☆ “STOP COPYING ME!” “Stop copying me” “I said STOP COPYING ME!” “I said stop copying me!”

☆ “I hate you.” “I love you too bro.”

☆ His friends like you and a lot of times you hang out with him and his friends.

☆ He wears the weirdest stuff just for shits and giggles.

☆ “Hey y/n.” “What?” you look at him and burst out laughing.

☆ Where he got a shark head mask, you had no idea. You had tears running down your face as he started to sing and sexy dance to baby shark.

☆ “STOP I’M GONNA PEE!”

☆ You two say the darndest things.

☆ “I just realised- if vampires can’t go out in the sunlight then wouldn’t the moonlight kill them too?

☆ “How?”

☆ “Moonlight is just the sunlight shining from behind the moon dumbass.”

☆ “Oh shit you’re right.”

☆ Another example of this would be:

☆ “The hospital is the only place you leave without entering.”

☆ Both of you:  👁️👄👁️

☆ You’re eating watermelon. You bite some of the white bit.

☆ “I just realised the worst part of the watermelon tastes like a cucumber.”

☆ awkward silence “wait you’re right.”

☆ “Anyways, here you can wash the plates.”

☆ “Y/N!”

☆ AEGYO FLUFFY GOODNESS

☆ Will use everything in his cuteness arsenal to get what he wants.

☆ You hate to admit it actually works sometimes.

☆ “Y/n~ pleeeaaaseee get me some cookies.”

☆ “No.”

☆ He keeps whining and rocking or shaking you. “PLEEEEAAAAAASEEE”

☆ “FINE!”

☆ Who’s really the older sibling and who’s really the younger sibling?

☆ “You know you could’ve just gotten them yourself with the time it took you to annoy me into getting them for you?”

☆ He just smiles toothily. 

☆ “If you could choose between a giant me or 5 mini me’s which would you choose?”

☆ “Neither I’d rather die.”

☆ “Y/N! WHYYYYY” he whines and shakes you.

☆ He’s always there for you when you need him the most. He’ll always comfort you with tight hugs. 

☆ He’s the type of person to make silly jokes and make you smile or laugh to make you feel better instead of sort of brooding with you.

☆ This is only acceptable with him, if anyone else tried to be goofy when you were upset it wouldn’t work.

☆ Because it’s Changbin’s thing. Only he has that power.

☆ You rarely see him upset. He’s always smiling, joking around and acting cute.

☆ One time, really late at night you saw him in the kitchen sitting with a glass of milk. He hadn’t noticed you. 

☆ This was off putting because you rarely saw him this quiet. He’s always laughing and loud.

☆ He was staring off in the distance, the glass gathering condensation from being out of the fridge and into warm temperature.

☆ “Can’t sleep?” He was startled and shook his head no. “What’s on your mind?”

☆ “It’s nothing.” You sat with a glass of water. “You know you can tell me, right?”

☆ “I know I just don’t wanna bother you.” he said and this confused you. “Why would you be bothering me? That’s absurd.”

☆ He shrugged, “I dunno, seems like all I do is annoy people these days.”

☆ You pat his back. “Hey, that’s not true. Well it only applies to me because you’re my sibling. That’s a thing. Is there anything specific you’re talking about?”

☆ He stays quiet for what seems like the longest time until he unloads. 

☆ You’re not good with words like he is. You try your best to listen and give sensible input. 

☆ Changbin admired that about you. Despite being younger, you were sometimes mature and understanding. You were authentic, you never tried to be something you weren’t.

☆ Which is why he always valued your words. 

☆ Afterwards if he had anything on his mind, sometimes he’d vent to you.

☆ You the ability to make his insecurities disappear simply because he feels stupid for the way he thinks when he talks to you. 

☆ You make his problems miniscule, not in a belittling way but in a way that makes him realise how things could be different or done differently.

☆ Your sense of perception was something amazing.

☆ This is why Changbin believed you were the best sibling he could ask for.

☆ But little did he know, you wouldn’t be able to function properly if he wasn’t the goofy, silly, clumsy, idiotic Changbin who exists today.

☆ He’s just the right type of flavour you need in your bland life.

☆ don’t be shy put some more.

☆ He’s the right balance of a clown, a baby and a guardian angel.

☆ He’s extremely caring, loyal, kind hearted and annoying.

☆ You’d change absolutely nothing.