#this is...hm. opposite chronological?

[fideidefenswhore]

🎵 + Henry and Anne B

dodged a bullet - greg laswell

time machine - ingrid michaelson

buzzkill - MOTHICA

i lied - lord huron ft allison ponthier

sleep all summer - neko case

snow on the beach - taylor swift ft. lana del rey

impossible - nothing but thieves

can't help falling in love (dark version x light version) - tommee profitt

here with me - susie suh ft. robot koch

set fire to the third bar - snow patrol ft. martha wainwright

fear you won't fall - joshua radin ft. schuyler fisk

savage - bahari

falling slowly - lee dwyze and crystal bowersox

[exilley]

i love kozue please talk to me about kozue

OMG YAY!! Alr. I have to pull up some of my notes from my last rewatch

So it actually took me quite a bit to really appreciate Miki and Kozue's character arcs because theirs is arguably the most subtle out of the the entire cast (which I understand may not be saying a whole lot, as Utena emphasizes a visual approach to storytelling, where everything is more or less completely out in the open for the viewer to relish-- it's just up to the audience to decide what those symbols mean). The thing that tripped me up about Kozue is that you can't really understand her until you've understood Miki, since her whole narrative niche hinges on her relationship with her brother, and of course given RGU's egalitarian disposition in regards to textual intent, however you've understood Miki will then inevitably color your perception of Kozue. That said! I don't think it's a completely one-sided dynamic, because of course Miki is impacted by Kozue's actions all the time. I just think there's a stricter analytical chronology to dissecting the twins, and that's a departure from the rest of the series' writing, and it makes them stand out a bit more.

Blue is assigned to three characters over the course of the series: Miki, Kozue, and then Ruka. Any thematic commonalities, though, appear to be entirely lacking at first glace; after all, all their personalities and archetypes are oppositional to each other. I definitely had a hard time figuring out this one, but I think my primary (and preliminary) conclusion as to their point of contention has to do with their status as accessory characters. Ruka appears with Juri as a masculine foil, Miki's own status as a member of the student council is consistently undermined by the greater authority of those around him, and Kozue attaches her social worth to her promiscuity. Of these three, Kozue exclusively is a woman, in addition to which she is in the transitional period of adolescence along with Miki, kind of representing an ambivalent force among Ohtori's constructs. She doesn't fully belong to any class of Ohtori's residents. Sure, she has a leaning, but it's just that-- a tendency set up to exacerbate extremity. It's also the binary complement to Miki's own nuances (here we can get into RGU's exploration of Childlike Purity but that deserves its own essay lol; the point I'm trying to get across is whatever Miki is, Kozue represents the other face of the coin).

The bulk of what I managed to gather from Kozue's character actually comes from her duel song, Utopian Paste Tense Incantation. The lyrics lay on really hard with nostalgic imagery and diction.

From this.

We can grasp the core tenant of her character motivation, that being that she's wanting to return to the past when she was figuratively and literally a child, presumably to before the incident with the failed piano recital (parallel that I haven't quite managed to place is the one related to sickness. Miki and Ruka both lost their metaphorical "other" because of illness. Hm). Here, the desire to return to the past is metaphorical in nature-- obviously she doesn't want to turn back time, she wants to replicate their past dynamic, reclaim her innocence, undo metamorphosis, reject the expectations of change the world demands of her.

**Note: The 7-5-3 referenced in some of the lyrics is referring to a Japanese rite of passage and annual festival celebrating the lives of children. Traditionally, girls aged 3 and 7, as well as 5 year old (occasionally 3 year old) boys undergo a ceremony that demarcates their transition into adolescence and womanhood/manhood. Here's the Wikipedia page on it if you're interested

But THIS. This is the catcher

There's a passing mention of an amusement park, which we come to associate with Akio.

The amusement park is the place where fantasies thrive. Its attractions are bound for the same path each and every time. There's no change at an amusement park, no revolution-- only the burden of comfort. And here is the fool who rides a carousel of violence round and round for eternity, the fallen prince. Kozue's own childhood with Miki was like this, and whether it's riding a merry-go-round or playing to his brother's naivete, she keeps herself going around in circles, chasing after a prince who always had his back to her.

Kozue's resentment is mutual- Miki does not approve of her sexual activity and projects his own ideal of the past onto Anthy- but it is not inhibiting. Rather, it is passive, and most of it manifests as self-hatred. She's manipulative, not in the way that she means to hurt Miki as a form of vengeance, but in the way that she advertises a very specific persona of herself to Miki. She's performing the role those around her demand from her (princess), to seek confirmation that somewhere in Miki is the brother who she believed was kind, gentle, and chivalrous. It's fear-- she's driven by the fear that Miki will completely reject her. She was abandoned once, after the recital, and she slipped out of one phase of her life into another. But surely, surely, Miki would still take her back, right? He hasn't changed like she did (or so, I suppose she believes). Her pursuit of an incestuous relationship is the apex of her complex-- it's unhealthy and mired in presumptions of intimacy that aren't conducive to her actually getting any closer to her brother. Similarly with the other sibling pairs, we see this type of sexual abuse used as a way to spotlight the harm that stems from endorsing the caricatures of masculinity and femininity that we're conditioned to view as desirable.

Kozue presses her own vision of the past onto Miki as much as he does to her. He's her "shining thing", her relic of nostalgic antiquity. And therein is their tragedy, wanting to move on in totally different ways, unable to see eye to eye, believing in a flawed history that was never there to begin with. Neither of them want to face the future and place blame on themselves for the loss of a memory that was never once genuine. They're birds who refuse to leave behind their nest, their birdcage. And I think the most fascinating element is the conclusion for Kozue's part of the story, in the scene at the end of Miki's Nest Box, where she finally calls out Miki for being a "coward" and walks away from him, leaving him to finish the nest box on his own. I interpreted that as being symbolic of her finally discarding her own preconceptions of Miki and coming to see him for who he is rather than merely as an extension of her personhood, disavowing the connotations of princeliness she'd come to expect from her brother. He cost them the duel and their attempt at reclaiming their past because of her intrusion on his idealistic fabrications, and seeing firsthand just how fragile his worldview was allowed her to break through her own.

There's so much I haven't addressed, but this is the gist of what I think she's all about? Do add more if you have any thoughts of your own! I will say. Common misconception for Kozue I see frequently is that she's actively aggressive towards Miki because she doesn't like him for reasons ranging from "she doesn't like being objectified by Miki" to "she's been irreversibly hurt emotionally by the incident with the recital" (and that Miki doesn't like Kozue because she simply doesn't fit into his own ideal of femininity). The objection here being the correlation of causality, as I don't necessarily think that Miki's objectification or even the recital are what *caused* Kozue to behave more coldly towards her brother. I hope my train of logic makes sense here because I tried my darndest to shoot down this specific misconception... uhmm. This took a long time to write LOL

[triflesandparsnips]

While I was busy writing one response, I realized this belonged in a whole separate post, so--

Y'all know we've got three separate illustrations of Blackbeard in the first season of OFMD, right?

You can see the tldr helpfully demonstrated in this three-panel remix comic from @asofterflag:

Figure 1. The three separate illustrations of Blackbeard seen so far, in chronological order from left to right. Also some text about sexy pirates.

Getting into the nitty-gritty: the first image is an extant depiction of Blackbeard with minimal editing (and is the one in Stede's book when he's talking to Frenchie):

Figures 2 and 3. Left: Blackbeard, as pictured by Benjamin Cole in the second edition of Charles Johnson's A General History of the Pyrates. Or so Wikipedia tells me. (Also, lol: six guns and a sword.) Right: Blackbeard, as shown opposite "Captain Kidd" in episode 3.

For reasons that I will expand on momentarily, I should also point out the following:

The background of the original image depicts three ships.

It moves too quickly to really clock, but we can be sure that at least one of the three ships is also depicted in the image that appears in the show-- you can see the mast touching Blackbeard's left sleeve, which is identically depicted in the original.

Keep this in mind.

The second image (what Stede shows Ed when they meet) is also based off an extant depiction of Blackbeard -- particularly in terms of the leg stance, trousers, bandolier, multiple weapons, smoking beard -- but there's been some hefty editing to get closer to what our Ed looks like:

Figures 4 and 5. Left: Blackbeard, as pictured by Joseph Nicholls in 1726/1736 in A General History of the Lives and Adventures of the Most Famous Highwaymen, Murderers, Street-Robbers. (Six or maybe seven guns. And a sword. And. A big stick.) Right: Blackbeard, as handed to Ed Teach in episode 4. (I count eight guns, plus a dagger, a sword, and Ed's bare right arm.)

Once again, I would like to point out the following:

The background of the original image only depicts one ship...

And the edited image, besides changing Blackbeard's appearance, has two.

So: Three. Two...

Again, keep this in mind.

But then we get to the third image. The one that Izzy rips out of a book and shoves at Ed, and that Ed then uses as a reference to fully embody his sad vampire clown image.

The third image? That fucker is completely original, and also very much our Ed.

Figure 6. Oh dang. Full Blackbeard. Fingerless gloves (hm), no guns, no knife -- just a sword and a skull.

And let me point out:

Only one ship now.

And. A lighthouse.

(This is Ed. Not the Kraken.)

But those ships, huh? Three. Two. One--

OH HEY remember how I said to keep some stuff in mind from earlier? YEAH.

So that first image of Blackbeard! The one with the matching ships in both it and the show version!

Let's go look at it more fully! In close up!

Figure 7. Oh hey look! Guess what's on fucking fire. Looks awfully familiar, where have I seen--

Figure 8. OH YEAH. IN THE PICTURE ABOVE STEDE'S BED. ONE OF ONLY TWO PIECES OF GODDAMN ART LEFT IN STEDE'S CABIN AFTER THE KRAKEN HAD IT PURGED.

YUP

JUST A SHIP

(ON FIRE)

AND A GOD DAMN LIGHTHOUSE.

[myf00djournal]

A chronological post run post.

Iiiiiii had a hard hard time man. In hindsight, I always knew our race was at 4pm so perhaps doing long runs at 6am was never going to help but I was so optimistic for cool weather in April. Nope 31 degrees. My worst fear. I was on pace and on the game plan up until around 8km which is when the course went from some shade to full sun. Told my running partner to push on without me which I had to say 5 times before he did listen 😛 I hate holding people back. The rest was an absolute slog. I thought about a DNF. I found a second wind around 13km and settled back into consistent trotting. Got through. They told us at the start the course was 20.5 which was a shame as it was advertised as a HM and then I saw a girl who was about a km ahead of me usually (because everyone we snaked past each other we did cute girl high fives) going in an opposite direction and I said don’t we turn left again? And she said nope the course was actually 18km. What the heck. Look my performance was not my best but I would’ve dragged myself another bit. Crossed the line and kept going with some other die hards who were also trying to make up km but I got to 19.8 and called it. The water station people were like oh we have cleared the course how much longer will you be and I was like you know what I’m done.

I’m annoyed because the organizers have a whole calendar of events and yet they were so shambolic. They delayed the start time, changed the course and then cut off a considerable distance for everyone. Also WHO KNOWS why the run was at 4/4:30pm in western Sydney but that’ll do me.

The 10km started an hour after us and then 5km after that so there was people always out on course but for a big event there was seriously maybe 60 people in each. So many DNS because we are legit flooded at the moment so I guess people couldn’t make it. A few people DNF. I saw the 5km fun run and wish I went in that because the first woman was 28:10 🥹 but I know it’s not about that.

My average km was around 7:30 which isn’t too bad considering I did a lot of walk/jog intervals for about 6km all up but Runna had me working at 6:25-6:30 as my goal which I was on but it really did fall away. My running partner did a great job and held around 6:40 which I am so happy for him.

Maybe next time I should do more than an 8 week training block. What am I saying with next time 🤦🏽‍♀️ haha never let me again please!!!! I just want to be a parkrun girly and maybe 10km???

Best of all Josh surprised me at the start line to see me off ❤️❤️❤️

The end. Also yes enjoy my post run glow - day ones will recognize the mirror. @taoistimmortal thank you for telling me to increase my cals by 500 cos yeah it’s going noice 👌🏻

[livia-dovehallow]

I ship so so much gracetopher tbh I thinj there is a lot of foreshadowing; the runes in private, walking down the aile… but I dont see Grace as Kit cousin as they never met and don’t share blood, Jesse and Lucie are second cousins and for me its more weird and their age gap but I guess luciejesse will be endgame although I liked the og idealf mattlucie

We’ll see how chot surprises us :)

hey, everyone has their thoughts and i respect them!! especially when presented as politely and pleasantly as you did here :D

i personally was never a fan of mattlucie, but i understand why people would be. i never thought anything wrong with it or anything, just didn't feel the chemistry there

and i too used to be wary of the age gap of jesse and lucie and the fact that they have mutual cousins and share an aunt and uncle but i guess i've evolved my opinion in a way. sure, chronologically, jesse should be 24, but he died at 17 and has never matured or grown (mentally and physically) beyond the age of 17 and has only ever woken at night.

(also i'm almost 24 and i just cannot for the life of me say that jesse exhibits any characteristics of a 24 year old man. charles does but that's because he's basically an arrogant ass and that is definitely a 24 year old man)

he's a bit more mature than lucie in the way that he was parentified and was forced to grow up a little faster to make sure grace was taken care of. but that has more to do with the different ways jesse and lucie were raised. lucie is more naiive (i hate that word but it's the most fitting) because she grew up much more sheltered and protected than jesse ever did

i do still think the fact that they share an aunt and uncle and some cousins is weird. idk how cc will work her way out of that one for me. i just can't not think of it from gabrily's POV... their niece and their nephew together but from opposite sides of the family. hm

i'm still indifferent to gracetopher i think-- i have a theory that grace takes back the name cartwright after jesse convinces her that it's okay and he wouldn't be hurt by that and tatiana is no longer her guardian. though of course she would still see jesse as her brother and jesse would see her as his sister

[quinloki]

5 Comfort Characters, 5 Tags 

Tagged by @likesugarandcyanide.  <3

Comfort characters huh? hm....

Hiei (yuyu Hakusho)

more under the cut! (this got long)

Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

>.> So far it's a lot of grumpy faces, and I don't think it's going to get any better. The next three are all One Piece characters, I didn't really do this in any kind of order. Chronologically by when I got into each series, I guess.)

Eustass Kid

Sir Crocodile

And finally \o/ Trafalgar Law

Look, I'm all sunshine and rainbows even when I'm not trying to be. Opposites attract, or something. I just... I need someone to tell them I ordered it with no pickles T-T

I'm tagging @swampstew @icy-spicy @owlight @sanjis-all-blue @downforsanji - and anyone else who wants to play (don't feel like you have to though <3 )

(I'da tagged like 15 more people honestly, I'm curious what characters bring you comfort <3 )

[tsukimefuku]

valentine's day and dark chocolate ❖ nanami kento

summary: you intentionally bought a box of chocolates you don't really like, because something tells you that you wouldn't be eating it alone on this valentine's day.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, fluff, emotionally stunted reader sometimes has a pretty great sixth sense, nanami finds he really likes dark chocolate.

wc: 600

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

The lady at the cash register eyed you up and down as you gave her a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

"Oh, treat for the boyfriend?"

You chuckled. "No, I just really like Valentine's Day chocolate."

She smiled, not understanding fully what you were on about. As the lady started to scan the barcode, for some reason you asked, "does this one have milk chocolate and dark chocolate pieces?"

Why did I ask this? You wondered. The question just spilled out of your mouth randomly, but you decided to trust your instinct.

She examined the box and replied, "No, not this one. The one that has both is that with the black ribbon."

You switched boxes and paid, leaving the store with the heart-shaped box closed with a black ribbon inside a paper bag. 

***

It was around 6PM, and you were seated at an outside area of Jujutsu High's headquarters. You had one of your earphones on, and was listening to music while finishing up handwritten reports from your last mission. Nearly everyone was out doing something else, after all, it was Valentine's Day. It felt good to be wrapping work up in such peace and silence for a change. The box was open by your side, as you snacked on the chocolate tastefully.

This was heaven.

"Good afternoon. You're still here, I see," you heard a familiar male voice behind you.

Turning around, you saw Nanami with his blazer folded up neatly on one of his bent arms. His tie was loosened, the sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and his glasses were probably in his pocket, allowing you to see his eyes, something that didn't happen very often. 

"Hi, yes! What are you up to?" You asked, removing your earphone to talk to him. "I'm finishing some reports before leaving." 

"Nothing. I was about to go home, actually."

"Home? On Valentine's Day?"

"Yes. I wanted to finish a book I've been reading for the past few days. Today was a non-tiring day, so I still have the energy to read," Nanami replied.

You pondered for a moment.

"Do you have the book on you?" You asked.

He raised one of his eyebrows. "Yes. Why?"

You smiled at him.

"Then, do you want to be my Valentine for today?" You said light-spirited, pointing to the chair on the opposite side of the table. "Keep me some company until I finish these."

He contemplated the idea for a moment, and walked by, seating across from you. He put his blazer carefully on the side of the table and pulled the pocket book from inside, opening it in a page that had a black, sleek bookmark. You were both accustomed by this point to sharing silent moments, as you were working together and waiting for your promotion to a level 1 sorcerer, which would allow you to go on more missions by yourself.

You knew you'd miss working closely with him, though.

"Hey, want some?" You asked, pushing the heart-shaped box of chocolates in his direction.

"No. I'm not very fond of sweets at all, but thank you for offering," he replied, eyes glued to his book.

"Oh, half of them are dark chocolate. I don't like them very much, they're too bitter for me," you answered, smiling at him.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"Why would you buy them, then?"

Nanami seemed to think for a moment, before extending his hand to grab one of the dark chocolate pieces and eating it. He seemed pleased.

"These are actually good."

"I don't know," you stated, looking back at your reports and putting the left earphone back in your ear. "I guess I had a feeling this might happen today."

"Hm?" He hummed with his mouth closed.

You grinned to yourself as you got back to writing the reports.

"Nevermind. Enjoy your chocolate."

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

wolf shifter!jeno x human!reader x vampire!jaemin

▷ 1.9k words this time,,, send help

▷ twilight au; read "i know what you are" which takes place chronologically after this one, but you don't need to read them in order!

a/n: OKAY I KNOW I SAID I PROB WOULDN'T, BUT I DID IT huhu this is dedicated to the anon who was asking abt a series for my other oneshot </3 i'm sorry i couldn't deliver, but here's another one 🤧

Lee Jeno was insistent that he walked you to your first class of the day. Well actually, he insisted that he walk you to every one of your classes, with his muscled arm slung around your shoulders, with eyes subtly glaring at anybody giving you a look. You didn't miss the glare. You never missed the glare. 

It wasn't like you condoned the glare; you just gave up on persuading him to stop. When Jeno had been convinced of something, he could be very determined. 

"—fastest route to the science classes is through this hallway, but I wouldn't recommend going through here without me because—"

"Because why not?" You mused, eyebrows arched. "You are not my bodyguard, Jeno Lee, and I don't need one either."

Jeno wrinkled his nose at you—or, you guessed it wasn't you specifically as his eyes narrowed into a glare at a group of students walking toward the two of you from the opposite end of the corridor. They had a certain… presence to them. There were maybe five of them in total, but they all wore some variation of black or leather, their expressions cold and unreadable. Students scrambled to get out of their way as they sauntered down the corridor as if they owned the damn place. 

"That," Jeno grunted, "is why."

Jeno directed you to the other side of the walkway and levelled a glare at the passing group. The one at the center, a boy with dark hair and a face sculpted like a Greek god (a complexion that rivalled Jeno's? Impossible…), passed you a curious glance. Another of the entourage grinned mirthlessly at Jeno in a taunt. 

Jeno's grip on your shoulder tightened just a little. 

You found his free hand and held it. "Hey, are you okay?"

He visibly relaxed. His hand entwined with yours and he shot you a small smile. "Sorry, yeah."

You began walking again.

"As I was saying, you don't really want to walk this way since those guys like to make this their personal runway." He rolled his eyes at the mention of that group. 

"Who are they, anyway?" They walked like gods.

Jeno huffed out of his nose. "No one important. Just… stay clear of them, Yn-ie. For your own safety, okay? And stay away from Na Jaemin, especially."

"Jen," you laughed, "I don't even know which one he is."

"He was the middle guy. Bastard in leather. Black and red jacket," he described for you. The image of Jaemin looking at you flashed through your mind. 

You hummed lightly in understanding and Jeno smiled, satisfied. 

As the two of you continued down the corridor, this time, walking a bit slower since you suspected your biology classroom was coming up soon, you tried to ease Jeno's tension. "So, what do you have first period?"

Jeno grumbled, "Calc."

You snorted. "Sucks to suck."

To your surprise, Jeno winced. "Oh, can we like… not use the word 'suck'?"

"Uh, sure?" You shot him a weird look, but tried again. "Good luck with calc then, Jen."

He hung his head. "I'm failing calc."

"That's a lie."

"No, but it's not." He peered over at you through his black bangs, a pout on his pillowy lips. "Yn-ie, you have to help me! The math teachers here are terrible at their jobs."

Your pride soared at the fact that Jeno was asking for help. You knew it was difficult for him to ask for help from anybody. "Of course, I'll help you!" You added teasingly, "But it'll cost you."

Jeno cocked his head to the side, the pouty, helpless puppy no longer present. He was replaced by a predator. His eyes darkened, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. "Hm, how can I possibly repay you then, love?"

A feeling stirred in your stomach and your eyes widened, a deer caught in headlights. It had been an innocent, teasing question. And somehow, Jeno had turned the tables—no, flipped the tables. 

Perhaps sensing how flustered you were, Jeno suddenly smiled, an innocent sort of puppy-like one, the predator nowhere to be found. Strange. "I'm kidding, Yn-ie. I'll buy you dinner sometime."

"Jeno," you protested, "you always buy me dinner."

He steered you around the corner. "Then I'll buy you that cute, little sundress."

You stopped short in the middle of the corridor. "How did you—"

"It's been sitting in your online shopping cart for three months," he answered cheekily. "And you had the site bookmarked."

You blinked. Then turned away, defeated. "Screw you."

Jeno's bright laughter filled the hallway and you found a smile crawling onto your face against your will. He nuzzled his nose into your hair affectionately. "You're so cute. I wish."

Oh, for God's sake—

The classroom (finally) came into view as the two of you rounded the corner. Students continued to stare and comment to their friends about you and Jeno as you passed, but you tried your best to ignore them. It seemed like Jeno was used to them or just plain unbothered. He thrived off of attention sometimes. 

As you entered the bio lab, Jeno hollered, "Mrs. Lim! I brought my lovely best friend, Ln Yn, here for you."

Mrs. Lim was a pretty woman dressed in a smart sweater vest and slacks. She looked like one of those aesthetic academia Pinterest posts, her dark hair twisted into a claw clip and a pair of black glasses seated on her nose. She glanced up from her demonstration table at the front where a pile of papers sat before her. 

She smiled warmly at the sight of you. "Ah, hello, Miss Ln. I'm Mrs. Lim, your biology teacher." She offered you her hand to shake, to which you shook firmly. "Welcome to Neo City High."

"Thank you," you chirped back. "Glad to be here."

Mrs. Lim shot Jeno a small smirk. "You can hurry on now, Jeno. I'll take good care of her."

Jeno ruffled your hair and you slapped his hand away. "I trust you, Mrs. Lim. See you, Yn-ie!"

"Bye, Jen!" You called back as he waved and disappeared out of the classroom. 

Now that it was just you, Mrs. Lim, and your first period biology class, Mrs. Lim walked you through some standard procedures and classroom rules. Overall, it was pretty basic stuff that you comprehended right away. The next step was finding you a lab partner. 

The classroom was steadily filling up now that the bell had rung to signal the beginning of first period. You scanned the classroom, feeling a pair of eyes pinned to you. 

As soon as you connected gazes with them, you tensed. Staring at you, head cocked to the side as it rested against a fist, was Na Jaemin. How the hell had he gotten here so fast—?

Mrs. Lim then said words that you dreaded to hear. "Oh, Yn! You can sit beside Jaemin. He hasn't had a partner for the past week. Jaemin, raise your hand."

Jaemin lifted a couple of fingers up lazily and Mrs. Lim nudged you in that direction. You hoped you didn't look too disappointed or nervous as you walked toward him. But then again, by the way Jaemin's eyes slowly dragged up and down your figure with a calculating gaze made a shiver shoot down your spine. There was something very… off about him. 

You dropped your backpack at your feet and slid onto the stool beside him. 

Jaemin's head turned to the front. 

You breathed a sigh of relief. 

Until he muttered, "You smell like the mutt."

Your head whipped around to him. "Excuse me?"

He arched a brow at you, then paused. His eyebrows furrowed and took in your offended facial expression. Then, it morphed to curiosity. "Interesting. You don't know who I'm talking about?"

"You're saying I smell like a dog."

"No," he drawled, leaning back slightly to cross his arms over his chest, "I'm saying you smell like Jeno."

You scoffed. "Don't call Jeno a dog."

Jaemin smirked, amused. "That's really funny. You're really funny, Yn."

"How do you know my name?"

He shrugged. "I have very good hearing, darling. I also pay very good attention to things. So... Jeno Lee likes you?"

You didn't know why your heart skipped a best at that. You stammered, "I don't know what you're talking about." Jeno liking you? Not possible. You were best friends since childhood, and Jeno was Jeno. He flirted a lot, sure, but he could do so much better than you, in your opinion. 

Jaemin smiled this time. "You're very cute when you're flustered, darling. Okay, I'll leave it at that." Then he turned back to whatever Mrs. Lim was projecting on the screen and said nothing else to you for the rest of the period. 

You tried your best to shake the conversation away, but it was a little difficult with Jaemin sitting beside you. Jeno's warning from earlier rang in your head—stay away from Na Jaemin. Well, not exactly possible at this moment, Jeno. 

It wasn't like Jeno would find out that you two were lab partners now, right?

At the end of the period, you began putting your materials back into your backpack. Jaemin had his bag already packed and brushed behind you to leave the classroom just as you gathered your hair up into a ponytail and exposed your neck. He halted, right behind you. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. "Sorry, am I blocking you?"

Jaemin cleared his throat. "No, you're not. Is that… what perfume is that?" His voice had gotten deeper and raspier.

"Oh, uh, I'm not wearing perfume?" Was this about the dog thing again? You were this close to beating his ass—

"Forget I said anything then." Before you could ask him what was happening, he rushed past you and out of the classroom. The most unsettling thing was that he had the back of his hand pressed against his nose, as if blocking out a smell. 

You frowned, looking down at yourself self consciously. That… was probably the weirdest biology class ever. You hoped tomorrow would not be the same, or would at least be somewhat normal. Maybe you'd wear perfume tomorrow if your scent bothered him that much. 

As you thanked Mrs. Lim on your way out of the classroom, Jeno appeared in the doorway, a big grin on his face. That smile melted away just as quickly as it appeared. 

"Hey, Jeno—"

His eyes narrowed, scanning the room. "Why the fuck was Jaemin here? And why do you smell like him?"

Funny. That was what Jaemin said about you and Jeno. "What is up with people telling me I smell today?" You laughed nervously, trying to play it off. This really wasn't cool. Not exactly the best thing to say to a girl. 

Jeno snapped out of whatever daze he was in. "Sorry, no; that sounded really stupid." He smacked his hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Yn-ie. It's just that, uh, his cologne is really strong right now."

You sniffed the air. It really wasn't…

"Let's go, yeah?" Jeno asked you, offering you his hand. 

You nodded, taking his hand. "Sure." Plastering a smile on your face, you met Jeno's grin, and then you let him guide you to your next class. Hopefully, this was the last weird thing that would happen to you today. 

Oh, how wrong you were…

"i know what you are." / "i will always tell you the truth."

nct m.list

[soothinglee]

GOODBYE V|

w/c:: 2229

waring:: yelling, caps, abuse?, blood mentioned

summary:: Ranboo, Tubbo and Michael go to the prison. Tommy babysits, Techno and y/n get visitors...

a/n::im not sure how I like this one, its kind of all over the place. To make it make more sense after the line under the prison thing is what happened the day before their visit to the prison if that makes sense... 😭

previous - next

Lava cascades down heavily as Tubbo clutches onto a half sleep Michael in fear. Ranboos' malicious grin widens as he watches Sam give a weary look towards Tubbo and hits several buttons in a chronological order. A creaking followed by a tremendous rumble echos throughout the prison, Tubbo grabs onto the wall tightly to regain his balance as he started to tip over due to the shake.

Ranboo looks over in disgust and grabs the top of his tie to tighten it. He takes his hands and brushes off the dust and ash that came from above.

"Sorry about that." Sam says going over the the levers on the opposite side of the wall. "Ive been meaning to fix that but I always forget."

Ranboo shakes his head and sighs "its alright sam, the rumbling isn't the reason why we're here."

Sam says nothing but nods his head.

They get to the last stepping point, sam walks over to the other side of the wall, levers titled with different names coat the obsidian surface like a puzzle. one that shouldn't ever be solved.

"stand on the platform," he calls over the sounds of lava, "dont move."

Tubbo gulps lightly as he blinks uneasily at the blanket of lava separating him and Michael from the monster that was locked away deep inside. He walks over to ranboo -who looked deep in thought- and yanked at his beige vest. Ranboo doesn't seem to acknowledge that the boy is there though, it seems like he wants to. His eyes flicker from a dark purple to his natural heterochromia green and red ones. To Tubbo it looked like he was fighting with himself internally.

"Ranboo?" he cry out softly yanking once more, "we dont have to do this! we-we can always ask dream for more time! I promise you I'll try again tomorrow to talk to y/n! We just need- I just need time."

Ranboos head snaps up from its place towards the floor. The flickering was long gone now and the purple made a home. He removes Tubbos hand roughly from his arms and glares at him through pointed eyes.

"do not touch me," he seethe taking a step forward towards the lava. "you had your chance to talk to y/n earlier and you ruined it. Y'know that dream doesn't believe in second chances so why bother."

Tubbo scoffs and puts Michael down but walk towards Ranboo slowly. "You yourself saw what happened at Technos! I have the scar to prove it! They dont want to talk! Y/n wants nothing to do with us and it shows." lie.

Ranboo looks back at Tubbo tightly. His hands now rest behind his back, fingers laced together. "and whose fault is that? Hm? I'm not the one that lashed out!"

Tubbo raises a pointed finger and shoves it into Ranboos back "YES YOU WERE! YOU WERE THE REASON I GOT ATTACKED IN THE FIRST PLACE! I wouldn't have gotten shoved if you would've learned to control your anger"

Micheals whimpers and places his hands over his ears. He never liked loud noises especially when it involved his fathers yelling at one another. The hybrid back up farther from the pair but instead ends up backing into something hard and tall. With hands still wrapped around his ears he slowly looks up to see sam looking down at him in pity. A solemn look replaces his usually hard prison guard glare.

"Im sorry Michael," he whispers lightly. Michael looks up at him in confusion and grunts.

Sam clears his throat loudly to get the attention of the still fighting pair. "I'm ready when you are."

Ranboo looks up from Tubbo and grins the same devilish grin from before, "let the fun begin."

Prior to this altercation at the place where hell is soon to be set loose. Tubbo read Tommy a written list of everything Michael needed while they were gone. Tommy-who had been half listening- rocks back and forth in the decades old rocking chair while loudly sucking nothing out of his mouth with a tooth pick.

"-and he also needs to be put in bed by 8-" Tubbo looks up from his list to see that Tommy was on the cusp of dozing off, he rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers in front of Tommys face "HELLOOO??? IS ANYBODY HOME?"

Tommy give out a screech and falls out of the chair, from the corner of the room where Michael was watching he starts to giggle watching as his clumsy uncle hit the floor.

"what is wrong with you?" Tommy groans rubbing the top go his head. "I was listening! That was rude, uncalled for and mean." He huffs and sits back down softly.

Tubbo rolls his eyes again and scoffs "Rude and mean are practically the same thing and repeat to me at least one thing I just said just now."

Tommys eyes drifts over to the other side of the room as he tries and recall what tubbo had said to him. Multiple stampers and stutters fly out of the boys mouth reeking incoherent thoughts. He looks back to tubbo who had a pointed look on his face. Arms crossed and foot tapping, he waits for the blonde haired boy to come up with something.

Minutes passed and nothing is said. Tubbo groans and drops the paper into Tommys lap.

"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable," He walks into the kitchen with Tommy right on his tail, Micheals ears perk up.

"Tubbo man listen! I promise nothing bad is going to happen! I'm a amazing babysitter! Even ask Michael! he'll tell you." The two male look over to Michael who was lurking in the corner, his stuffed pig in hand. He looks up feeling the attention shift to him and grunts. He looks at Tubbo and then to Tommy. After a few moments he nods his head lightly and goes back to playing.

Tommy lets out a cheer, throwing his arms up into the air. "SEE! I told you! Big M knows the truth."

Tubbo shakes his head but smiles, "yeah yeah whatever, we should be back no later than 9:30" he walks over the door where Ranboo stood waiting, a disturbed look etches his faces as he fiddles with his sleeves, "be safe, Michael remember, dinner first then desert. See you soon" and with that, he closes the door with Ranboo in tow.

Once entering the cold forest, tubbo shutters and grasps his thin wool sweater tighter. The freezing weather isn't one made for a half goat. Ranboo on the other hand looked completely fine. He was quite used to the ankle deep snow and frigid winters.

Ranboo notices that Tubbo is slowing down slightly, “you good tubbo?”

Tubbo turns around for the first time in 30 minutes, his lips are a purplish blue and his nose started to bruise. “Ranboo, look at me. Does it look like I'm good? I’m freezing my tail off and i almost ran into a tree trunk”

Ranboo makes a pained face and looks around. After moments of not spotting anything useful he remembers that he brought an extra scarf in case he accidently forgot his original one.

He gasps lightly and pulls the cotton scarf out of his pocket and walks towards Tubbo. Opening it a little, he slips it over his head and wraps it around 2 times before nodding his head.

“There you go,” Ranboo smiles and Tubbo gives him a skeptical look.

“Thanks…” he says, turning slowly as Ranboo kept walking to Technoblades house.

Upon arriving Steve, technoblades’ 'bodyguard' made a noise of acknowledgement and stepped aside to allow the two boys to step on the porch.

"much appreciated Steve," Tubbo says moving beside him but Steve doesn't give him not even a blink. Tubbo turns around to Ranboo already looking at him in expectancy. "dont do anything," - he takes his hand out of his glove and shoves it into his pocket-" just stand back there and let me do all the talking."

Ranboo gives him a weak nod and steps back farther from Tubbo and the door, "m'kay."

Tubbo takes a deep breath and nods his head, "okay," he turn back around and faces the door he last saw all those months ago. Memories flash in his eyes, the yelling, the crying, the regret, the neglect. He brushes them off his shoulders like a pesky bug and give three simple knocks,

Clunk

Clunk

Clunk

After the last knock there's silence, no noise coming from inside or outside the house aside from the nervous, heavy breathing from Tubbo and the occasional crunch coming from Steve as he ate.

"Knock again," Ranboo suggest getting impatient, "They may have not heard you the first time?"

Tubbo nods again, "yeah," and knocks. This time hard and long.

Clunk....

Clunk...

Clun-

Before Tubbo can knock again the door swings wide open. Technoblade stands there with his sword in hand, a head peeps out from behind him. A noise of what seemed to be disgust was heard and the person that was behind his back rolled their eyes.

y/n

"y/n" Tubbo gasps stepping forward but was quick to step back when Technoblade thrust his sword forward.

"why are you here." he grumbles, the deepness of his voice sent vibrations through the air causing the crows in the area to scatter. "I thought I told you guys to stay away."

Tubbo shakes his head and puts his hands out in front of him in defense. "we know- I know but we just wanted to spend some time with our child, you know how long its been," -he looks over to Ranboo and then to y/n who had stepped out of hiding- "we missed you and we want you to come home to us. we realized our mistakes and we want a change."

y/n steps forward but not all the way since techno was blocking their path and lets out a unhumorous laugh, "yeah okay, im not coming back, me, techno and Philza are content."

Tubbo starts to get restless "y/n please."

y/n uncrosses their arms and closes their eyes, "what do you not understand? why do you not want me to be happy? I said no"

Ranboo starts getting agitated his eyes shine a brighter purple, and rushes forward and comes face to face with Technoblade "You will let us see them and thats FINAL. I will no longer agrue with you, if you have a problem then you're going to have to go through me because you will not allow us to see our child."

Techno lets out a disdain huff, "do you know who you're talking to? I was the one that took you in, I know all your weaknesses ranboo, dont test it."

Ranboo looks down and sucks his teeth, "y'know what? Im tired of talking" he charges forward and lands on techno. Screams fill the air as the two rustle with one another.

"TECHNO STOP!" y/n screams trying to break them up but failing horribly.

"RANBOO LET GO! I TOLD YOU I HAD IT!" Tubbo tries to grab Ranboo on the shoulder to separate them but instead he accidentally grabs Technoblade.

"dont tOUCH ME!" techno roars and shoves Tubbo backwards.

Everything goes in slow-motion. One moment Tubbo is having a conversation and the next he's being thrown into the sky and landing on his face.

"d..d-DAD!" y/n screams and rushes over to Tubbo who was laying on the floor in pain. where once was his silky smooth skin was a scar that went from his forehead to the corner of his lips. "are you okay?"

Tubbo groans and goes to reach for the wound but y/n slaps his hand away before he could "yeah im fine."

By this time the two other hybrids stop fighting and Ranboo rolls his eyes and sighs, "get up tubbo, you'll suffice," when Tubbo stays on the floor he titters and teleports over to y/n and tubbo.

He grabs tubbo by the collar and hoists him onto his feet. Tubbo lets out a cry and y/n takes out a tissue they had stored in their pocket and handed it to Tubbo.

"thank you," he says quietly and watches as y/n gives him a worried look.

"this is not over," ranboo shouts at Technoblade "we will be back! and we will have y/n." he drops tubbo on his feet and slings his arm over his shoulder, under his breath he then says "even if we have to use force."

On the way home Tubbo slips in and out of consciousness, the blood on his face had dried up by now. He remembers the tissue y/n gave him and takes it out of his breast pocket to clean himself off. As he unravels it his notices some ink in the inside.

'strange' he thinks opening it up more. The more he opened the more ink showed up. Tubbo looked up to see if Ranboo was around but he was too busy up ahead talking to himself. Tubbo flattened out the tissue on his chest

'I would like to have a talk,' it read ' just me and you. no one else. I'll sneak out when you give me a confirmation.Just dont tell Ranboo '

...

bingo.

thank you so much for the support and thank you for reading!<3

taglist:

@kiritokunuwu

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@obey-me-mammons-

@ochabby

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@imahusky1

@natsueyama

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@m00nsthet1c @angelicaschuyler-church

@kusuinko

[wolken-himmel]

You know the fact that i've only seen two barbie movie, one of them being the 12 dancing princesses, which I only still have because I lost the dvd I borrowed from the library, and when I found it 5 years later, and the other being the fashion fairytale one, which I watched on youtube on one one of those playlists with like, the 5 minute clips in chronological order, but I have watched and can memorize the plot of all the episodes barbie life in the dream house, says a lot about me. But Rachel is iconic, and I can't help imagining that one scene in fashion fairytale, where ken split his pants, being Leona, going to apologize to Vil who is all the way in Paris.

AHHH BARBIE LIFE IN THE DREAMHOUSE IS JUST— chef's kiss. I love it so much!! The humour is so good and the way that they're self-aware of the fact they're dolls and are living in a doll-like world is just so hilarious

THAT MOVIE LMAOO yes I remember too! Hm... I don't think Vil would fit being Barbie from a Fashion Fairytale based on the fact that Barbie has a pretty low self-esteem in that one. But what I do know is that Malleus and Lilia should be the antagonists of that movie, like the other two fashion designer ladies in the all-green store opposite from Barbie's boutique.

Lilia just fits the chaotic energy, really

[crimsonandcloverwrites]

ok bhah ch1 reread thought dump lets goooo

@youngbloodbuzz  @romanitwontletmetagyouuuu??? thank u for writing this. in return I gift u this lightly unhinged commentary

oh the opening quote “Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home?” violence

lmao ok I started this ages ago and then got distracted for a week because that’s just who I am as a person lets try that again

eddie n his glowing glasses nice we love a canon nod

ok I remember getting really emotional reading the chapter where Dani’s car died bc of what it represented to her n now I’m being reminded of it all again with the ‘poor little car’ comment oh dear we’re like 2 paragraphs in and I’m already compromised

the wavering reflection in the water in her hands..... Dani posessed by the ghost of comphet..... I am Drawing Conclusions

eddie “we can hang out more” dani “aha wouldn’t that be neat”

god the prom photo... remembering Dani’s meltdown at the prom bc she missed Jamie... I’m dying Jack I’m dying

lil palm kiss... I know u will not ever love hm that way Dani but fuck I’m a sucker for a palm kiss

lil nerd ass w her folder tabs I love her

god the tone of this is so comforting like I can just hang out n imagine each scene progressing so naturally. wish I did not have to suffer emotionally at the same time but at least it’s a smooth read

Dani feeling like an invader amongst all the physical representations of her relationship w eddie BABY U DON’T HAVE TO LIVE THIS WAY STOP LETTING OTHER PEOPLE INFLUENCE UR LIFE AND RUIN UR HAPPINESS

“Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant” yes

Hannah: congrats on ur engagement. Dani, with tears in her eyes: thank

Dani relaxing when they’re talking about teaching pls I love her love for it so much

Dani at the blackboard with the “Miss, Ms?” confusion now I am thinking about the Ted Moseby professor/proffessor scene. HIMYM my beloved

mikeyyyy my boy

the image of Dani w chalk dust on her skirt is v endearing.

oooh the library trip gay foreshadowing yes

wait the silver stars on his backpack......... cup of stars crying time

Mikey correcting her on his name when she was the one to give him the nickname in the first place... feeling some kind of way

Dani fostering the talents she sees in her kids is so sweet and mikey shy lil math genuis is also so sweet pls i love this duo

i do wonder if part of her is like I know a Mikey Taylor but I literally refuse to believe it is the same one bc his sister broke my heart and we are absolutely not in the business of confronting hard feelings in this house!!

keys on a lanyard... ok lesbian

“You’re still here?” the love I have for canon lines being used when I can hear them being said in my head

awww bonding over Wonder Woman. cute!!!! When Dani becomes Mikey’s official second mum (everyone be quiet I am manifesting) my heart will explode

eddie ur really just gonna rock up and toot at her. jail for 1000 years

ooohhh Dani is Realising who the sister is. honey you got a big storm comin. oof (the ‘wonder woman punching stars out of her foes” to “dani feeling like she’s just recieved a blow to the ribs.” the cinnamontography). aw baby :(

“Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.” please i am thinking about her last letter and I am not strong enough

“Somehow Eddie didn’t notice.” sum up a relationship in a sentence

“Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart” fuck this hits on so many levels I need to go think about my life for 45mins

CARSON MY BOY. in his studded leather. a fashionable gay never loses.

I looove how soft n caring Dani n Carson are with each other thank gods she has him.

DID WE EVER FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN CARSON AND JASON MY SPIDEY SENSES ARE STILL TINGLING FROM READING THIS THE FIRST TIME

god this post is already so long n I’m only halfway through why do I have so many silly thoughts

god just the... expectations of affection from her by eddie w that placating cheek kiss she gives him is like... I cannot imagine Jamie ever asking that from her in the same way even when they are in a relationship!!! and it’s not even wrong of him to do that??? but it’s just a lot to think about the kind of person Dani makes herself to be to stay with him vs the kind of person Jamie lets her be by not expecting anything of her. they’re such opposites

dani not even feeling at home in her own (former) home pls when is she going to find a soft place to land (it’s also making me think v hard about the title like... the haunting of Dani and Jamie’s relationship (and what that represents for Dani) on Dani’s whole life and Jamie coming home and bringing that to Dani’s doorstep. resurecting a ghost so to speak........ too many homes to think about. I don’t know if I fully understand but I am Thinking)

dani and her inhaler... asthmatic bitches represent

oh my god not the box of memories. been trying to erase that from my own for weeks now let me live

ooh the line about her feeling like an archaeologist at the start of this section and then her ‘exhuming the past’ w the photos of her n Jamie i love a consistent narrative.

THE MIXTAPE. THE MIXTAPE. is there a playlist for this chapter I would like to take that aural journey

oh no i cannot remember where the flower comes from but aahhh this box of memories pain.

this description of carson in a tight white undershirt tucked into his jeans makes me think of freddie mercury. didn’t mean to make you cry etc

lmao Dani trying to get info from Judy abt Jamie in a roundabout way... international superspy she is not

Dani entirely uncomfy in church... i feel it. godd the repression of it all w the movie and the feelings and the Jamie-influence on the feelings my heart hurts.

God knowing how much Judy loves her but the weight of that love also stifling her... pain

they’ve really got her all shacked up w a house and a husband and a kid on the way can we let the girl be a lesbian in peace (also lowkey hoping Dani gets some time on her own at some point no Eddie no Jamie no weight of expectations pls she needs it we all need it)

the thread of Dani refusing to do things for herself in order to make other people happy throughout this entire piece hits so fucking close to home and is entirely heartbreaking to read thank you

jamiiiiieeeeeeeee

Jamie: appears. Dani: every single emotion all at once

Judy and her girls back together is v sweet even if Dani is dying inside at it all

“Jamie only had eyes for Dani.” Again, sum up a relationship in a sentence.

What do you even say to a girl who *the sky goes dark as i attempt to even summarise a fraction of their relationship*. Apparently the answer is “Jamie. Hi.”

TWO MONTHS JAMIE TAYLOR. CRIMES

It’s ahh. fairly entertaining to be going through Dani’s emotional journey alongside her and knowing that Jamie is also Going Through It on some level but having 0 insights to it bc she keeps her emotions so in check.

oooh how much of a gut punch is this engagement revelation for Jamie??? like on some level I’m sure she always knew this was coming but I’m sure another part of her still desperately hoped one day Dani would choose her. god I would kill for Jamie’s POV in this scene

Jamie’s scarrrr. Literally Dani’s impact

oh fucking hell that moment of like... familiarity and almost a coming home for Dani when Judy is talking and she meets Jamie’s eyes... she really was entirely screwed from that moment on huh.

oof god this is a hell of an opening chapter lets see if my attention span will let me continue this journey (also @ myself reminder to read this all in chronological order one day for a real nice session of emotional destruction)

[simplybakugou]

Our Little Secret

↝ Only a few months into your new relationship with one of your closest friends, you and Kaminari try your hardest to hide your secret from your friends who seem to see that something’s up.

BINGO SPACE: Movie Marathon

⋆ PAIRING: kaminari x reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: just some kaminari fluff :) ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1752

A/N: is this another @bnhabookclub bingo piece? Yes because i’m just trying to write as many as i can before the deadline. this is my second time writing for kaminari and i’m still trying to get used to writing for his character so again please forgive me if this was ass. thank you to the anon who requested kaminari for this prompt!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 07.28.2020✐

“Will you hurry up already? You know those idiots are going to start the movie without us if we’re late!” Mina exclaimed by the doorframe of your room, her pillow and a blanket in each arm as she was patiently waiting for you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you replied, grabbing your own things and making your way out. “You don’t have to shout.”

Mina playfully rolled her eyes as you both made your way out and turned the corner. “Please, you love me no matter how much I annoy you.”

You grinned. “You’re not wrong.”

Finals had just ended for the students in U.A. High and you and your friends were more than ready to laze around and relax for a change. You had worked your ass off in order to get a decent grade so you definitely knew that you wanted to spend some quality time with your friends to get your mind off of how stressful exam season can be.

“What took you guys so long?” Sero asked from the common area of the dorm building. 

Mina dropped her pillow down onto the ground, looking up at you. “Hm, I wonder why…”

You stuck her tongue out at her, placing your own pillow and blanket to the floor by the sofa. Kirishima, Sero, and now Mina were getting the movie ready and Bakugou was sitting on the sofa behind you. You turned to him, raising your brows at him in shock. “I’m surprised you’re here, Bakugou. Don’t you usually go to sleep at this time?”

Bakugou scoffed at you, his eyes glaring forward to the TV screen. “Exams are over so I can do whatever the fuck I want. Plus I’m not staying for long, not when you dumbasses are gonna drive me insane for the whole movie.”

“Oh, come on, Kacchan, you know you love hanging with us!” Kaminari piped up, entering the common area. He plopped down onto the sofa beside Bakugou, throwing his arm over his shoulder to which Bakugou, who was almost disgusted, pushed him off. He rose to his feet, sitting on the sofa on the opposite side to get away from his annoying friend.

You giggled as Kaminari dropped his pillow beside you on the floor. “Way to drive him away, Kami.”

“I didn’t want him so close to us.” He sat himself down beside you, resting his arm on the sofa which so happened to be right by your shoulders. “And I told you to call me Denki.” His voice was lowered as he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You shoved his shoulder lightly. “You know I can’t say that, everyone will catch on.”

With your time in U.A. you had made many friends within your class. Kirishima, Sero, Bakugou, Mina, and Kaminari clicked with you immediately, especially since all of you had a common goal of irritating Bakugou as much as you possibly could. The closer you became with your friends, you grew even closer with Kaminari. He never failed to brighten your day, making you laugh and laugh till your stomach hurt. Somewhere along the way you developed feelings for him and he did as well for you and he managed to smooth talk his way into asking you out. 

It had only been a few months since you had started dating Kaminari but you decided to keep the relationship a secret. Dating within friend groups can be weird, especially since most people don’t want to date their friends in fear of ruining the relationship or making things awkward for everyone in the group. You were fearful that your friends would treat you and Kaminari differently, not to mention it hadn’t been long since Kaminari asked you out and you wanted to test the waters out first before breaking it to everyone.

Initially Kaminari couldn’t understand why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret and he knew you better than to believe you were doing so because you were ashamed to be dating him or anything. But as time progressed, he enjoyed having private and intimate moments with you while no one realized what was going on. You’d sneak kisses in the locker room when no one was looking or even hold hands behind your friends’ backs while walking to the dorm building. It was nerve wracking but also exhilarating at the same time.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Kaminari asked, leaning his face in closer to yours.

You became flustered from the proximity of his body with your own, your eyes darting over to make sure your friends weren’t watching. Bakugou was scrolling aimlessly through his phone and Kirishima, Sero, and Mina were still preoccupied with setting up the TV to notice. Nevertheless, you jabbed your elbow to his side as a warning. 

“We got it ready!” Mina exclaimed, settling onto her spot on the floor.

“About time. Why’d it take all three of you to start a movie?” Bakugou said curtly.

“Oh, come on, man, you don’t have to be like that,” Kirishima said lightly, sitting down next to him.

“Which movie are we on now?” You asked Sero who sat on Kaminari’s other side.

“‘Thor: The Dark World,’” Sero responded. You and your friends decided to go on a Marvel movie marathon, wanting to watch all the movies in chronological order since the release of the last Avengers movie.

“This movie fucking sucks,” Bakugou muttered as the first scene played.

“Well it’s still a Marvel movie so we’ve got no choice but to watch it,” Kirishima replied.

The movie continued to play and Bakugou was right: the movie wasn’t as good as the other movies in the franchise. Sero and Kaminari’s snide remarks in between the movie made the experience more enjoyable but in the middle Bakugou decided to go back to his room as he became tired while watching. Sero, Mina, and Kirishima grouped together, adding their own commentary as the movie progressed.

You were sitting up, your pillow against the bottom of the sofa holding you upright with the blanket draped over your body and Kaminari’s arm snaked around your body, pulling you closer to him. You swatted at his hand, glancing over to your friends who were fortunately preoccupied with the screen to pay attention to the tomfoolery occurring behind them. 

“Denki, you can’t,” you hissed as your voice fell to a whisper.

“But I can,” Kaminari urged, using his other hand to lift your chin up so that your eyes were staring back into his golden ones. “I like seeing you panic like that. It’s cute.”

You narrowed your brows at him, standing to your feet. “I’m gonna get some water from my room,” you announced to your friends who nodded, not bothering to look back at you.

Kaminari watched as you walked away and gave him a look that practically said “come and follow me” to which he nearly jolted to his feet. He didn’t bother uttering an excuse like you had, simply making sure his friends weren’t paying attention to him, which they weren’t.

You walked down the hall and stopped right outside your room, turning around and facing Kaminari who was right on your tracks. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist, guiding your body against the wall so he was hovering right over you. “God, you look even cuter like this than you did over there.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, hooking your arms around his neck. “Just shut up and kiss me, will you?”

You didn’t have to tell him twice as Kaminari urgently brought his lips down to yours, pulling your figure closer to him as your lips moved against his. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you were convinced your boyfriend could feel the rhythm of your heart as your chests were pressed against each other.

At this point in your relationship you felt comfortable with revealing it to your friends but something about the secrecy of it all made you feel a rush of adrenaline. Especially in moments like these where small moments could leave you hot and bothered. You desperately wanted to focus on Kaminari and only Kaminari, completely forgetting that you were quite literally out in the open.

“What the fuck?!” You and Kaminari pulled away from each other, eyes widening at the sight of Bakugou distraught at the sight of two of his closest friends making out with one another right in front of him. You wanted to mentally smack yourself, forgetting that your room was right across from his.

“You idiots are dating?” Bakugou asked, blinking rapidly as he looked between you and Kaminari.

“Yeah… we’ve been dating for three months now,” Kaminari said, rubbing his neck as he laughed sheepishly.

Bakugou didn’t say anything, a disgusted look on his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“It’s just fucking weird… that you two managed to hide something from us, especially since dunce face is the biggest dumbass I know.”

“Dude, that’s just rude!” Kaminari whined, glaring at his friend.

“So… are you going to tell the others?” You asked, wanting to know exactly what Bakugou was going to do from here.

“Honestly I want to fucking gouge my eyes out so I don’t ever have to see that shit again. I just wanted some water and I got to see you two shove your fucking tongues down each other’s throats. I don’t give a damn what you do as long as I got nothing to do with it,” Bakugou said plainly, walking past you and Kaminari to the water fountain.

You both watched Bakugou as he proceeded down the hall, chuckling as his shoulders quaked as he was visibly shuddering due to the ordeal he encountered. 

You poked your boyfriend’s stomach. “This is what happens when you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Kaminari smirked as he looked back at you. “I didn’t hear you complaining though, did I?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to laugh. “Guess our little secret’s been found out.”

Kaminari laughed along with you. “To be honest, I don’t know why we had one in the first place.”

Needless to say, you and Kaminari decided from that moment on to share your hidden relationship with the rest of your friends. All the times you spent sneaking around would come to an end but at the end of it all, you couldn’t remember why you kept your relationship a secret in the first place.

If you’d like to be added to my taglist, please join here!

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[lucky-draws]

☕️ 👁 💭 - for the writing ask meme :)

☕ favourite passage?

Ooh...it was difficult to decide but I think I'm going to go with this final section from unhappy anniversary:

By the time you reach the exit, the rain has slowed to a drizzle, and the ice in your veins is nowhere near as acute. Feeling slightly more cheerful now that your body is starting to warm up, you flash a charming smile at the now familiar security guard. He jumps at the sight of you, though, looking at you like he's seen a ghost; and you can't help but feel a little offended. You don't look that rough, apart from your tear stained cheeks. Has he never seen a man cry before? 

You give him your pass, and when he hands it back he seems to have recovered, even taking pity on you enough to offer you a cigarette. You glance at the name on the pack and smile: your favourite brand. And to think you were plotting to kill him earlier - what a sad waste of human life that would be. You tell him so, and the flurry of confusion and panic on his face is priceless. 

As the gates close behind you, you hear a disembodied chuckle floating on the breeze - deep, like your father's laugh from earlier. You smile a little, and in spite of it all, make a mental note to come back tomorrow, just so you can tell John all about what's happened tonight. You do owe him some flowers, after all.

I'm not just picking this bit because you also picked out a line from this in your comment on this fic, honest! xD I was pleased with this fic overall, and I often struggle with ending a fic strongly/coming up with decent ending lines that aren't clichéd or cheesy, but I think here it worked out pretty well. And the ghost stuff is always fun too of course... I've always liked the idea of Adam crying "blood" just like The Sorrow, so I enjoyed throwing a vague implication of it in here.

Actually, I will also give an honourable mention to this part in a fic I wrote about John finding out about the less enfants terribles project, 'in my time there'll be no one else' ; there's a lot I now dislike about my earlier fics but I do like the sort of tense atmosphere in this one.

Eventually, the fingertips loosen their grasp. John’s hand falls away in a manner that could be resignation, or could be disgust; and he turns, striding across the room to sit on the edge of the bed without another word.

Adam exhales a long breath, cursing quietly. He flexes his fingers, vaguely wishing he had his revolvers, or anything, really, to fidget with, to distract him.

He crosses over to the open window, and the silence stretches further between them, pulled taught.

Leaning out over the sill, he casually surveys the traffic below with a feigned indifference that’s a force of habit; though the lack of an audience and the tell-tale quivering of the hand reaching into his pocket for a cigarette render the performance futile.

He exhales a cloud of smoke and scowls at a young woman pushing a pram along the sidewalk opposite.

Les Enfants Terribles.

He’d never heard those six syllables before today, but now they just won’t stop bouncing around inside his head.

👁️ series or one shots?

Hm, good question, I think it's satisfying to write short one shots that are concise but have a lot of substance, but at the same time it's also very enjoyable to be able to complete a series of works, especially for a game like metal gear where the characters' development (whether into something better or worse xD) throughout the decades is so central and interesting to explore. I think one shots come with less pressure, and especially because I'm so indecisive and still figuring out writing and I end up changing my mind about what I've written and how much Iike it, it can be challenging to keep a series consistent. It's for that kind of reason that even though I've written separate works that follow each other chronologically, I don't count them as part of the same series exactly because they sort of feel like separate, chronological one shots. If that makes any sense xD

💭 any ideas for a possible wip?

OH BOY do I... I do have an idea for a fic set during the coma years, concerning Ocelot and Kaz getting to know each other; I wrote down some ideas/plans for it a while back but shelved it in order to write my current fic. The ideas I had were possibly slightly out of character and it would definitely be classed as 'canon divergence'...more of a fix it fic that sort of actually makes things worse and rather ignores the rest of the series...I'll say no more but I really hope I can try to actually write it at some point, maybe when I've finished Sing.

I'd like to write otasune at some point and I do have a vague idea of sort of pre-philanthropy or early philanthropy era otasune but I don't know if it'll come to fruition. It takes more braincells than I currently have to be working on two fics at once, so for now I'm gonna just vaguely ruminate on other ideas whilst I'm finishing my current fic. I'd also lowkey like to try writing a very short thing concerning Ocelot's death scene in mgs4...maybe I'll save that for a rainy day. (teehee)

Thank you for the asks!! I hope I was somewhat coherent, and I hope you're having a lovely day! :) o7 💖

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

11/26/2021 DAB Chronological Transcription

Acts 17-18:18

It's the 26th day of November. Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill, it's wonderful to be here with you every day, but especially, especially this day. This is a very special day. And I'll tell you why in just a little bit. But first of all, we're going to center ourselves around the Scripture. We do it every day. We center ourselves. We quiet our minds, still our spirits. We open our eyes to see our ears, to hear and our hearts to receive all that God would say and do and speak to us through His Word. Today, today we are reading the Book of Acts, chapter 17. We're starting with verse one, and we are reading through chapter 18 through the 18th verse of the 18th chapter, and just a couple of days left in our New English translation. So today Acts, chapter 17.

Prayer:

Father, we thank you for your word today. We hear the story of the work of Paul spreading the gospel, the good news of Jesus. And if we're not careful, we could think of it sort of as this luxurious travel, the way that we look at people that we admire that travel the world and show us their highlight reel of their life and make life look so pretty through a perfect lens, telling the story that they wish for us to actually see. But this is not the story of the struggle of the gospel. This is not the story that we read in the pages of Your Word. Paul suffered much hardship. He walked through obstacles. He pioneered some things, and he paved the way hard, tedious work, opposition against opposition and obstacle. And even seeing here today mobs rising up against him and the work that he set out to do. And we're reminded in this that not everyone will so freely accept what you give so freely. But may we dig deeper. May our lives continue to be an example of the love of Jesus Christ. And may our lives exude the evidence of the fruit of the Spirit, the very Spirit of God that is present and among us. And as the Prince of Peace comes and surrounds us, may we be peacemakers in a world that thrives on chaos. May our lives reflect the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. We pray this all in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Announcements:

Okay, so I told you today there was a very special announcement, and that very special announcement requires a very special guest. And today also happens to be her birthday. So first of all, happy birthday, China. Welcome back. Thank you. You're welcome. I know everyone probably is trying to figure out what's going on here. So first of all, it's your birthday. It is your birthday. You've been doing this a really long time with this year off. How long have you actually been reading the Bible for kids when you started the Bible for Kids. Like, how long have I, like, start to finish? Yeah. How old were you when you started reading the DAB kids? Eleven. That's what dad and they were trying to figure out if you were ten or eleven. And so you rode that wave, and then you did Daily Audio Bible Teens. Um hm. And then from teens, you went to Chronological. Chronological. How many years did you do Chronological? Three. Three. Yeah. Okay. So everyone knows you took this year off to be a mom. You want to tell us a little bit about what it's been like? Oh gosh. Like, let me summarize it in a couple of words, if I can. It has been the hardest, the greatest, the most exhausting, the most rewarding, the messiest, the beautiful thing. And I'm only seven months into it. But you're killing it. You're like a champ. If you're new around here, China, our daughter, Brian's and I's daughter, our only daughter, started chronological, fell in love with this boy man, got married. And then she and Ben had our first granddaughter, Reagan the Brave, and she stepped away to focus on motherhood. It's what she should have done. She's here today because I know we're getting towards the end of the year. So many of you are wondering what's gonna happen with chronological. I'm getting the calls. People are wondering. So do you want to do the honors? I'm back, baby. I had that ready in my head for like, 4 seconds, and I just went for it. No regrets. That was perfect. That's exactly how it should have been. China's coming back.And you're staying. And I'm staying. You get the best of both words. Worlds, as my good friend Hannah Montana says. Hey, I loved me some Hannah Montana back in the day. So because motherhood, of course, is all encompassing and she's still rocking it and doing it. We are going to share on this journey of chronological together. Since China founded Daily Audio Bible Chronological, it only felt fitting and right to give her the opportunity to come back. And at the same time, I have fallen in love with this community and the Bible. And I can't quite quit you guys. So sharing it allows us one to do something new together, to continue into this passion that she started, that I have continued. And then it allows us to be freed up and follow those passions. China, of motherhood and my love of this community of women and to dive deeper into that. So that's what's happening. We're very excited. And what the new format looks like is we're going to alternate weeks. So for the first week of January, what you can kind of expect is I'll take over for a week and then mom will have a week. And then I will be in the next week. So we're just going to alternate weeks all throughout the year. We are going to switch-aroo. And we've never done this before in the history of the Daily Audio Bible. Nobody has ever. Actually, that's not true. Me and dad did it together for kids, and then me and Max did it together for kids also. But I can't say, like, never in the history of DAB, but this is a little bit different. Sure. But this is different. So if there's some kinks, you're going to ask for some grace. Yeah, lots of grace. If you don't like it, that's okay. We don't really care. We do care. But this is what we have sensed from the Lord. This is the direction. This is right. This is good. And we're excited. Yeah. And I'm really excited to be able to do this with you. You bring so much wisdom in your young years to the table. You have always been this old soul and people have missed you. They've been vocal about it. They're like, you're good, Jill, but we miss China, and I get that. And that's right. You have founded this and you stepped away and it's exciting to have you back. And I'm excited as your Mom to be able to do this with you. So we're going to jump into it come January 1, 2022. Can you believe it? That's nuts. I'll be your host then. But I think it's worth saying well done to you, Mom. Thank you. I know you're not fully done with this year yet. But it's coming fast. There was no better hands to leave this into for the time being. That means a lot. Thank you very much. Yeah, I know you didn't ask me to leave your place  in line. That's what I've said. And people have called in and said, you know, I hope that you're just keeping that place in line. And so I was kind of worried about that, like, as an expectation. But it just felt like leave the door open instead of just slamming the door shut and welcoming you back. So I anticipate that everybody will do that, welcoming you back with open arms, and we're excited and let the journey begin. Yeah, it'll be exciting. Okay. Well, that is our big announcement for today. We really, truly are excited. And, like trying to say this is brand new for us. So grace along the way will be very much appreciated. Happy birthday to you. Thank you. You're welcome. Thanks for being here. Thanks for having me. We'll see you next year. So it's true that's what's happening starting the beginning of next year. And she is off the mic. So once again, happy birthday to China, the founder of Daily Audio Bible Chronological, to the mother of our beautiful Reagan the brave and to my beautiful, brave, extraordinary daughter, China. I love you very much. That's going to do it for me today. Exciting things happening here at Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill. We'll turn the page tomorrow, and I look forward to it every day. Until then, love one another.

[wonjaekook]

100 Ways We Said “I Love You” (The First 26)

100 follower special w/Jaemin for @insomni-writing​ !

A/N: I hit 100 followers a while ago but Somni came up with a great idea for me to celebrate! The numbers are NOT in chronological order, so I hope it’s not too confusing. There’s potential for more parts of this in the future ^^

Description: You reminisce on some of your most memorable moments with Jaemin.

Word Count: 13.5k

Genre: fluff!! there’s a touch of angst, but it’s mostly fluff

Warnings: there might be a handful of swears?, alcohol at some point

One.

Na Jaemin has one mouth and he certainly uses it as much as he can. The only thing you know about Na Jaemin is he’s loud and you’re not sure you like him. On the contrary, everyone else in your class seems to be obsessed with him, as can be easily observed by the hoards of confessions he’s getting today. You would think that behavior would go away when you got to college, but apparently not.

Today is White Day and you are not in the holiday spirit.

Every break that your class has, the room explodes with noise as girls who, one after the other, are giving him so many chocolates that he barely has room to write on his desk anymore. Jaemin’s responses of, “you’re cute, but…” and “I’m sorry, you’re lovely, but…” to every girl that approaches him fill the space of the classroom while you’re at your own desk trying to study. Unluckily for you, Jaemin sits right in front of you and your best friend, Hyunjin, sits on the opposite side of the room. She shoots you a pitying look when she sees the irritated look on your face and you shrug. It only takes one more minute listening to the chattering of the girls gathered around the desk in front of you before you’re grabbing your textbook and walking out of the classroom.

In the hallway, things are nice and peaceful for a little while when you plop down on the floor and open your textbook. The sounds in the classroom are muffled by the door and walls and you find yourself focusing much better. That is, until a boy from the classroom next door stops in front of you. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m studying.” You answer shortly. You know this boy well - mostly because he won’t leave you alone. Not in the cute way, no. In the mean way.

“Don’t wanna be in the classroom because everyone is getting together and you’re alone?” He looms over you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You purse your lips together at that. “I don’t want a boyfriend, Jiwoon.”

“It’s not like you could get one anyways, even if you-”

“Hey, cut it out.” Jiwoon is interrupted when, to your surprise, another voice cuts into the conversation. In your distraction, you hadn’t noticed that Na Jaemin had left the classroom and is now standing a few feet away, giving Jiwoon a look. Jaemin starts to speak again before either of you can say anything. “If you like her, just say so. There’s no need to be an ass.”

Jiwoon turns three shades of red before he finally stutters out, “I don’t like her!” and shuffles quickly away to his own classroom.

“He doesn’t like me. He’s always just been a jerk for no reason,” you say, feeling the need to clarify to Jaemin. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before he looks at you.

“He’s just doing that thing guys do. The one where they’re mean to the girl they like because they think that’s how they’ll get your attention.”

Your lips part in an expression of surprise before you let out a little, “Oh.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He breaks into a cocky smirk and your expression changes into one of irritation. “You owe me one, now.”

“Owe you what? I don’t owe you anything!” You try to insist, but he’s already walking further down the hall and it’s not long before he’s out of sight.

Two.

Na Jaemin won’t stop staring at you.

Since Jaemin technically helped you out in the hall on White Day, you supposed you owed him something. He called in his favor about three weeks ago, when he practically begged you to tutor him in physics. Usually, tutoring meant studying with him and helping him whenever he had trouble, but, today, he’s just been staring at you for most of the time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, trying to shield your face from his view with your hand. He hums in response to your request, looking back at his textbook. A moment later, you can feel him staring at you again, so you sigh heavily and turn to him fully, your head resting on your arm.

“Jaemin, if you have an issue with me, please just say it.” This time, he doesn’t even pretend to look away from you, keeping intense eye contact instead. The eye contact lasts long enough that you feel slightly uncomfortable, but you refuse to back down. He blinks a slow, long blink that, for some reason, has you feeling shy and makes your cheeks warm up. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones in the somewhat dim light of the library and his dark brown hair sweeps quite nicely over his forehead, parted just off from the middle. You refused to let yourself acknowledge it before, but Na Jaemin is, in fact, quite attractive. Finally, you feel like you have to say something again. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown a third eye?” You mutter, shying under his gaze. If he’s not searching your soul, it certainly feels like it.

“I’m not…” His words are somewhat mumbled as he continues to stare you in the eyes, “but you do have two eyes and they are very pretty.”

When those words leave his lips, your jaw practically drops and you can feel your face changing from warm to blazing hot. “I, you, ah-” you stutter, trying to find something to say, but grasping nothing.

His lips spread into a wide, bright smile that shows all of his teeth. “Do you want to get coffee with me after this?”

“Ask me again after you’ve finished the physics homework,” you mumble, practically burying your face in your own book, “and only if you don’t make me try that hell concoction you call a drink.”

You suppose that, somewhere along the last few weeks, you might have fallen for him.

Three.

Na Jaemin considers himself a photographer and, even you, a cynic among cynics, can’t help but agree that he does take some nice pictures sometimes. Then again, sometimes he chooses to take the absolute ugliest pictures of you, saving them as his phone background and not letting you change it. But, since he considers himself a photographer, he demands you take pictures with him anyways. There are a few in particular that come to mind.

“Wait, there!” Jaemin says, hand clasped in yours. You would call this your official first date, though you had been alone with him many times before. You’re still reeling from when he had actually told you he likes you about ten minutes ago, but he quickly guided you along, saying something about ‘golden hour.’ Now, Jaemin is pulling you towards a glass balcony that’s open to the spring air. The glass bends the orange-red light of the setting sun and almost makes the two of you glow just standing there. There’s a few other people milling about on this floor of the building, so Jaemin quickly taps one of them on the shoulder, giving them that charming smile of his and asking if they can take your picture on the balcony.

Just as the person reaches three in the countdown, he leans down, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your own expression changes just in time for the camera to catch it. “Jaemin!” You say, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You can’t just do those things out of nowhere!”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” He collects his phone from the stranger and thanks them before turning around, catching the embarrassment clear on your face. He taps on the photo, showing you the picture. Both of you are bathed in the light of the setting sun, glowing golden halos of light around your heads, your surprised expression clear on your face, and his eyes closed as he kisses your cheek. “See? So cute.”

You’ve been with Jaemin for just a tad longer than three years now and the sunset pictures he makes you take with him every year, each with a different surprise, have become your favorites.

Four.

Na Jaemin considers himself to be quite the romantic. Most of the time, you would agree. He’s a rose petals in the bathtub, candles at dinner, slow jazz in the background kind of guy. You try not to let his efforts go unnoticed, as any loving girlfriend would, though you can’t say you’re nearly as smooth about romantic things as he is. However, for all his sensibilities, sometimes he has strange timing.

On the train, enroute to Busan, where you plan to spend the weekend with him, he has your hand firmly in his. Whenever you try to let go of it, he squeezes your hand tighter, so you accepted his grip a while ago. A little while ago, he had offered you an airpod, so you’re casually listening to his music and leaning against his shoulder as the train continues on its track. Idly, you thumb at the rings he’s wearing. One, two, on this hand and… another two on the other hand. Four rings in total. “Jaemin,” you say, breaking the easy silence between the two of you, “where did you get your rings?”

“Hm?” He focuses on you and processes your question a second later. “Oh. This one, I got from my mom, this one is from Jeno, this one is for UNICEF, and this one is just cool looking.” One by one, he taps the rings, still holding onto your hand. “Why? Do you want me to take them off? Is it uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. “No, you’re good. I was just wondering.”

“Do you like them?” Not knowing where he’s going, but knowing he’s scheming something by the tone of his voice, you carefully nod. “Well, I’ll get you a ring one day. It’ll be a lot fancier than these, though.”

It takes you a moment to really understand what he’s implying, but then your cheeks are heating up - not an unusual occurrence with Jaemin - and you’re burying your face in his shoulder. “Jaemin,” you whine, your voice muffled by his shirt, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“I can if it’s true.” A weak punch on the arm is all you respond with, his hand still tightly squeezed in yours.

Five.

Na Jaemin is the person you’ve spent more time with than anyone else for the last few weeks. And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend.

Not that you’re expecting him to, or that he has to be the one who asks you. If you were certain that’s what he wants, you would ask him, but… you’re not sure. You don’t think he’s been seeing anyone else, but, by definition, you’re not exclusive. He could be seeing any number of the girls who confessed to him or are constantly chasing after him. You don’t think he actually is, but you’re scared. What if he doesn’t like you as much as you like him?

You’ve gone on four different “official” dates with him and tonight is date number five. When he shows up in front of your apartment, all smiles, you almost immediately forget all of your worries about your situation, content with just taking his hand when he offers it to you. The little hole-in-the-wall restaurant he takes you to is perfect, a pretty, small place with low lighting that smells vaguely of roses, and everything about the date is perfect. Until the waiter comes back for the second time.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He says, directing his attention to Jaemin and then, a beat later, to you. “Or maybe for the girlfriend?”

Before your expression can even shift into one of awkwardness, Jaemin is smiling gently and shaking his head. “That’s okay, but thank you.” Confusion is clearly on your face when the waiter says he’ll be right back with your check and walks away, prompting Jaemin to look back at you. He quirks an eyebrow at you. “What? Did you want something else?”

“I… You…” You look back and forth between Jaemin and the direction the waiter disappeared off in. How are you supposed to explain…?

“Oh, you don’t like being called my girlfriend?” Jaemin tilts his head, the picture of obliviousness. At the back of your mind, some part of you knows he’s just messing with you, but you ignore that side of your brain.

“No, I like it!” Your mouth moves faster than your brain does for once and, almost instantly, you feel like your cheeks are on fire. Pursing your lips, you look away from him, practically burning up in your seat.

“Aha! That’s what I was waiting for!” As he says that, the waiter returns with your check, preventing him from explaining himself. He takes the check and gets up, practically waltzing to your side of the table and reaching for your hand, which you take without much question. Impatiently, you shift from foot to foot while he pays up front until, finally, the two of you leave the restaurant.

“Na Jaemin,” you say sternly, stopping him from continuing to walk, “you had better explain yourself!”

Pretending to be innocent again, he smiles. “Explain? That you want to be my girlfriend?”

Instead of shying away this time, you decide that you’re going to double down. You’re about two seconds away from ditching him if he doesn’t start making sense. “I do, but-!”

“Great! Then, Y/N, do you want to be my girlfriend? Be honest, now.” Jaemin’s tone is teasing, which it feels like is his near constant state anyways, but now you’re blushing.

Part of you wants to be difficult with him just for the sake of it, but the softer, more resigned side of you wins out. Your exasperation fades and you sigh softly. “Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Now, that wasn’t hard, was it?” Indignant again, you don’t respond, eyes fixed on the ground. “That makes me your boyfriend, then. I don’t know about you, but that makes me really happy.” At that, you look up at him. Though there’s a hint of humor on his face, the smile that reaches all the way to his eyes is real. Knowing that you’re too embarrassed to respond but that you feel the exact same way, he simply squeezes your hand and pulls you along.

Six.

Na Jaemin always says good morning to you. From early on in your relationship, he always made sure to text you when he wasn’t staying over. Though you prefer to wake up to an arm slung over you and his messy morning hair, a text from him is almost as nice. Whenever you’re away from each other for too long, he calls you incessantly and, when you hadn’t minded the silence before, his slightly staticy voice over the phone fills the empty space in your life nicely. Even just hearing the telltale buzz before your phone lights up with his contact name - he never lets you change it away from “My Handsome Jaemin” with a sun emoji next to it, which he set on your phone himself - you always feel a small prick of joy.

Well, most of the time. The buzz of your phone going off is enough to wake you up today and not even the cute “good morning, love” accompanied with all varieties of heart emojis from Jaemin is enough to forgive him for waking you up at this godforsaken hour.

Y/N: Na Jaemin. It is 6 in the morning.

My Handsome Jaemin: it’s a new day!

Y/N: Why are you texting me at this time.

JM: i’m volunteering soon and i’m not allowed to be on my phone until after it’s over, but i didn’t want to miss saying good morning :( sorry for waking you up

Y/N: oh my god jaems i’m so sorry

Y/N: ily, have a good time at your volunteering

Y/N: and good morning to you too ♡

JM: ♡♡♡

JM: go back to sleep, i’ll be done by the time you’re awake ♡

You suppose you can forgive him.

 Seven.

Na Jaemin has somehow wormed himself into nearly every aspect of your life. Before him, you didn’t think it was possible to be so close to a single person. Now, he’s in your head at least once a day, all seven days of the week. Rent free, spending time in your thoughts. You wouldn’t charge him for taking up that space even if you could.

Eight.

Na Jaemin didn’t wait nearly as long to ask if he could kiss you as he waited to ask you to be his girlfriend. This time, there’s no games, no teasing, just him at two o’clock in the morning in front of your dorm.

The two of you were lucky enough that the weather cooperated with your plans for a picnic by the Han River and, soon enough, time got lost. To get him to go back to campus, you have to pull him along by his hand, his reluctance clear in the way he tugs back to try to get you to stay. Much too quickly, you return, standing on the pavement outside of your dorm building with your hand in his, neither of you really making a move to go inside anymore. Hesitantly, you smile at him. “I had a nice time today. As usual.”

“As usual?” He tilts his head, sending you a smile of his own in return. The way the music of his low voice floats to your ears in the still, peaceful night prevents you from letting go of his hands.

“Believe it or not, I enjoy spending time with my boyfriend.” He grins extra brightly at that, pulling you into his arms for a tight hug so you can’t see what is practically sunlight radiating from his face in the dead of night. If he had pulled you in like that a few weeks ago, you would have been stiff and awkward but, now, you quickly melt into his embrace, your own arms wrapping around him. Reluctantly, both of you pull away and look at each other again. The air still has that lovely, magical feeling to it that makes you forget that time exists, but somewhere in the back of your head, you know that it’s about two in the morning and you should both go to sleep. Somehow, you also feel as though there are unsaid words hanging in the air between you and you can’t leave until one of you says them.

“Can I kiss you?”

It clicks in your head that those were the words you had been waiting for. Naturally, you’re smiling again, a smaller smile this time in preparation for what you want to happen, hiding how truly ecstatic you feel. “I really want you to.”

That first kiss lasts for eight seconds. It’s eight seconds of feeling more right and content and happy than you ever have in your life so, when he pulls away, you pull him back to you a quick heartbeat later, your arms rising up to sling over his neck. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the way he laughs into that second kiss and returns it.

Nine.

Na Jaemin asked you to move in with him. It’s been a bit over two years now, so it was only the next natural step to both of you. One sunny Saturday afternoon, he told you about this wonderful - and affordable - apartment a short walk from campus and proposed living together. You accepted. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t talked about it before. It’s very familiar ground and you were excited that your discussions were finally producing some fruit. When you went to check out the apartment with Jaemin, you were more than pleased with how good his taste was. It’s a corner apartment, meaning lots of natural light and a bit more space than usual. 

Signing the lease was easy enough. Moving in was not, especially with Jaemin getting distracted every few minutes by one thing or another. Every so often, he calls to you from another room, his voice reaching you easily in the relatively small space. “Y/N!”

Tilting your head back to look at him as he emerges from the other room, you give him a look, not backing away from the box you were unpacking things from. “What is it now, Jaemin?”

“Do you know how many windows this apartment has?”

The question is odd enough, so you shrug in response. “No, but I have a feeling you do.”

“Nine! We have nine windows.” He’s far more excited about the topic than you are and your confusion is clear on your face.

“What’s special about having nine windows?”

“I don’t know. But we have nine windows and I just think there’s something great about that number.” The incidental sweetness of his statement has your mood instantly lifting, your face brightening and relaxing when he explains. He circles you, latching onto you and hugging you from behind. His broad chest against your back is a welcome distraction this time, so you lean back into him slightly.

“You’re very strange, but I think you’re right, Jaemin.”

Ten.

Na Jaemin makes every experience an adventure. Somehow, today he had talked you into climbing a tree and, while he had descended flawlessly, you’re stuck. After all, getting up into the tree is always harder and less scary than getting down.

“Jaemin! I can’t get down…” You’re embarrassed to admit it, but you need help.

“Just jump! I’ll catch you!” You blanch at that.

“No way! I know you’ve been working out recently, but I am not jumping from here!” Truth be told, you’re only about ten feet off of the ground, but it’s ten whole feet of terror that makes the ground feel much farther away than it actually is.

“Do you want to come down or not? Just jump!” Even with Jaemin’s goading, him standing below you is not looking any more safe. What if you break your leg? Or your arm? Or your spine?

“You know what, I think I’m okay up here! I’ll live among the squirrels from now on.” You shift on the branch and it bends slightly under your weight, causing you to let out a brief shriek of fear and cling tighter to the branch. When you look down again, Jaemin’s face is far more concerned and serious than it was before.

“Y/N, you don’t have to be afraid. I promise I’ll catch you. I have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten whole fingers attached to one, two arms to catch you with! You’ll be fine. Trust me.” He opens his arms wide, staring up at you and smiling gently. It’s those words that make your heart open and, suddenly, you feel like everything will be okay. Because you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, mostly to yourself, “okay. Are you ready?”

He nods firmly. “Whenever you are.”

As promised, he catches you in his arms and prevents you from hitting the ground and breaking your arm, leg, spine, or anything in between. After he puts you down, he leans forward, pecking you on the lips before he grins. “See? I told you that you can trust me.”

Eleven.

Na Jaemin is very stubborn sometimes. That being said, so are you.

Someway, somehow the two of you had an argument about washing the dishes. At this point, after a bit more than ten hours of not talking to each other, you’ve forgotten who started the argument. A part of you still wants to insist you’re right, but the deafening silence of your boyfriend in the other room while you’re curled on your shared bed dampens your pride. You glance at your phone, which hadn’t lit up with a notification from him for most of the day now when he would ordinarily be sending you texts filled with heart emojis and sweet words. Sighing, you set your phone upside down, trying not to look at it. A minute later, it buzzes and you quickly reach for it, the screen lighting up in your eyes, only to see that it was just a message from a friend. With that, you throw your phone back on the bed and stand up. Enough is enough. You’re going to stop being stubborn and apologize.

Except, when you open the bedroom door, Jaemin is right in front of it, his hand lifted like he was pre-knock. He lowers his hand slowly, his lips pulling up into an awkward half smile. “What, can’t go eleven hours without seeing me?” The joke falls flat, but you give him a little exhale of laughter anyways.

“No,” you say, your voice low, feeling strange in the long, silent space of the hours between you, “I wanted to apologize.”

“That’s funny, I wanted to do the same thing.” If you took yourself out of the situation, you might have found it funny, but right now all you want is the comfortable feeling between you and Jaemin back. Neither of you speak for a moment, but then your words are coming out at the same, overlapping each other in a strange sort of apologetic verbal embrace.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Y/N, I’m sorry-”

Both of you stop at the same time as well. You stare at each other before another smile, a real one this time, lights up his face again. You return the look.

“It was a stupid argument. I accept your apology.” When he usually initiates, you make the move first this time, opening your arms in a gesture that invites him to hug you. He does, his arms wrapping around you and pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Without words, he tells you that he feels the same.

Twelve.

Na Jaemin always keeps his promises.

Your advanced literature class always gets out at the same time, exactly twelve. Every Wednesday, your lovely boyfriend makes a point to meet you outside of your classroom at exactly noon to meet you for lunch. Early on, he had promised you he would meet you at the same time every week, saying, if you remember correctly, he “wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A bit dramatic for a regular lunch date, but you have always appreciated the sentiment. It’s nice to have a schedule and to be able to see him regularly.

Except, now, it’s 12:15 and your professor is still talking. He keeps droning on about his favorite part of the book your class is currently reading, which also happens to be his favorite book, and, even with you and your classmates shifting awkwardly in your seats and very obviously looking at the clock on the wall next to his desk, he keeps going. Normally, you’d be sitting in the dining hall or nearby cafe with Jaemin right now, but instead you’re just blankly staring at your professor, his words drowned out by your antsiness. Finally, ten minutes later, he returns to his desk and dismisses your class. Everyone instantly shoves their things in their backpacks and, one by one, you all quickly exit. Through the crowd of your classmates, you try to see if Jaemin is at your meeting spot. When you run up to him, apologies spilling from your lips, he presses a finger to your lips.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.” The way his lips curl up into a little smile messes with your heart, causing you to blink rapidly at him.

“You’re not upset…?” You manage to get out.

“I promised you, didn’t it? I know it’s not your fault, anyways.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “Plus, you’re worth waiting for.” He tugs you along, heading towards the cafe you had agreed you would go to today. Even when you’re awestruck by him and he’s pulling you along, he’s still so gentle in both touch and tone of voice. Then, he opens his mouth again and you snap out of it to laugh at him. “Though I wouldn’t mind if you bought my coffee today.”

Thirteen.

Na Jaemin has always been popular. That was one of your first observations about him and it continued to be true, even a few months into your relationship.

This year, his birthday, August 13th, falls on a Saturday. When he said he was throwing a party, you were expecting it to be on the day of his birthday, a loud, wild occasion that would inevitably get the cops called on it. To your surprise, he plans it for the day before, Friday, and you can actually count and keep track of everyone there. You expected to see him only once during the night before he mingled among everyone else, but as he gets more tipsy and edges on drunk, you find that he’s not leaving your side, his arms mostly staying wrapped around your stomach, keeping you pressed to his chest, and his chin rests on your shoulder, his flush cheek pressed to yours. Friday changes to Saturday and everyone sings to him. Cake and more drinks are passed around, the air pleasantly filled with singing and talking and the music that always plays in the background. At around two, you attempt to peel his arms off of you so you can go home, but he just holds onto you tighter, whining about how you promised you would stay the night. Even though you never said anything like that to him and you’re more than embarrassed that he just said that in front of his friends, you just sink back down against him, doing your best to hide your warm face.

It’s only a short while before sunrise that the last of his friends finally leave. You barely manage to convince him to brush his teeth and wash his face before he’s dragging you into his bed with him, his grip around you unrelenting. This certainly isn’t the first time that you’ve slept in his bed with him, but you’re still a bit shy about it. Luckily enough, your shyness is overcome by your exhaustion and you quickly drift off.

You barely manage to convince him to let you get out of bed after the two of you finally wake up in the early afternoon and it’s another miracle that you get him to let you go home to change and get your gift for him. While he was initially planning his celebration, he made you promise to leave your Saturday open for him. You agreed, adding that you would only do it if he let you pay for dinner.

After you return and eat with him, giving him the gift of the new camera lens he had been wanting for months, you stop him before he can drag you back to his bed to watch a movie and cuddle.

“One more thing.” Shyly, you reach into the bag you had brought back from your apartment, pulling out a small chocolate cake, barely larger than your hand, and a single long candle. “I know you just had cake yesterday, but I got this from the bakery next to campus that you like and...”

The happy look on his face lights up your whole world and has you trailing off. With just one look, you can tell exactly how he’s feeling and that everything is okay, that you don’t need to make excuses. You can’t hold eye contact with him for long, your eyes flitting down to investigate the table instead of looking at him. You can feel your face warming and butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach with their wings. It’s an intense but welcome feeling. Quickly, you busy yourself with getting out the small lighter you brought - you came prepared - and sticking the candle in the cake, lighting it. A step forward and the light in the room is off, a step backwards and you’re back in your chair. The room is shrouded in darkness save for the tiny flickering fire casting a yellow-orange glow on your faces.

“Happy birthday, Jaemin.” Your voice barely makes a sound in the small room, but it adds to the warm atmosphere nonetheless. For a moment, he just stares at the candle, deep in thought. You can feel the seconds ticking by slowly, drops of wax sliding down the length of the candle, threatening to fall onto the cake but stopping just short. Then, he looks up at you.

“I’ll only blow it out if you do it with me.” Another one of his strange requests. He must know that you want to refuse him, but the rapidly melting wax of the candle prevents you from giving him the reasons why you shouldn’t do what he asked. He also gives you no time to argue as he leans forward, counting down. “One,” a slow blink, “two,” a small smile when you bend forward slightly as well, “three.” Both of you blow gently, the small flame flickering out.

You rise from your chair again, flicking on the lights. He’s giving you a strange look again, but one that you can still tell is happy. “I feel like I just ruined your birthday wish by doing that,” you laugh quietly, sitting back down.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his palm. “You can’t ruin my wish if you are my wish.” The butterflies and warmth return, not that they ever really left, but you keep looking at him this time. Before you can muster up some sort of response, he adds on another comment much more softly. “And I’m not afraid of losing you by saying that.”

Fourteen.

Na Jaemin always manages to take advantage of every good opportunity that he’s given, even if that means taking you along with him.

“My pretty Y/N,” he practically purrs in your ear, his arms encircling your waist as he hugs you from behind while you're doing work for class, “will you help me with something?”

You can already tell from his tone of voice that he means to cause trouble. You just don’t know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind yet. Laying your pencil down, you turn your head slightly and smile at him. “What are you trying to charm me into doing now?”

“Have you been outside recently?”

“Of course I have. Why…?”

“Take a break and take pictures with the flowers with me.” He’s absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt as he speaks. You know he’s persistent and won’t leave you alone unless you go with him. It also wouldn’t hurt to take a couple of pretty pictures. You should really be used to these impromptu photoshoots by now, anyway.

“Only if it doesn’t take that long…” He hears the hesitance in your voice and takes it as a yes, springing up to race to the other side of the room.

“Great! They’re cherry trees, so the flowers won’t last much longer than a few days, and all fourteen of them are in bloom right now!” He returns to you with his camera hanging around his neck.

“You counted the trees outside?” You follow him to the door of your apartment, slipping on some shoes at the same time he does.

“I had to do an ecological survey for my biology class earlier this semester. Just happened to remember.” It’s not a farfetched idea. It’s also very characteristic of him to remember that. As soon as you’re outside, stepping into the sunlight and squinting from how bright it is, you look back at him. He’s making a face, a sort of smirk, and you sigh.

“You’re about to say something embarrassing, I can tell.”

“I’m not! Look,” he says, turning you by the shoulders to face the blooming trees lining the sidewalk, “do you see them?”

Your eyes adjusted a moment before, so you nod slowly. “Mhm…”

“You’re prettier than any of them.” That’s all he says before he pecks on you on the cheek, taking you by the hand and guiding you farther down the row of trees. Even now, you can’t help but blush furiously at his comments. You would ask why he always says things like that, but you know the answer by now. It takes him only a moment to find the ideal tree, where he turns back to you again, observing your face. He grins. “You look even prettier when you’re flustered like that.”

Fifteen.

Na Jaemin, despite how he seems to brush things off most of the time, is more sensitive than he lets on.

One night, Jaemin invited you to go to a party with him. You had been dating him for more than a year, so it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to show up to every other social gathering with the other on their arm. The event is a typical frat party - loud and full of both alcohol and hormones. Jaemin had been invited by his older friend Lucas and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to go. Except, at the time you agreed, you didn’t have the headache that slowly developed over the day. Still, you go. The music is too loud, the smell of alcohol makes you nauseous, and everyone is so sweaty. One girl even has the audacity to try to drag Jaemin away for a dance. He hadn’t had the same aversions to the environment that you did but, even in his inebriated state after the multiple drinks his friends had put in his hands and he had downed, he has enough sense to push her gently away from him, refusing her advances. She leaves, moping over his rejection, and you let him pull you in to dance clumsily before everything about the party becomes too much. His attempt at getting you to enjoy yourself isn’t missed - you know he’s trying his best - but you simply don’t feel well. With a reluctant smile, you tug him over to a group of his friends that you recognize.

“I’m going to go home. Stay here and have fun with your friends, okay?” He bobs his head up and down in a drunken nod of agreement before leaning down to sloppily kiss you. Normally, you love his kisses in any form, but the smell of alcohol on his breath and the taste of it on his lips has you pulling away from the kiss quickly, patting his cheek as you try to not let your headache break your patience with your intoxicated boyfriend.

Getting out of the party is a relief, the short walk back to your apartment is a relief, and finally lying down in your bed with pajamas and a clean face and mouth is definitely a relief. Sleep comes upon you quickly enough that you forget to text your very sweet and very drunk boyfriend to tell you when he gets home.

Waking up refreshed and headache-free twelve hours later is certainly a feeling you could relish in for a long time. Except, when you check your phone and see the fifteen missed calls and twenty texts from Jaemin on your phone, your relaxation instantly fades. Every message shows his building worry, sent about an hour before you woke up, and vague enough that you don’t know why he’s panicking. As soon as you read the last message, you call him back. He picks up nearly instantly, cutting you off as you try to greet him.

“Jaem-”

“Y/N! You finally answered!” Though you’ve known him for a substantial amount of time by now, you’ve never heard him sound this distressed. It makes panic slowly bubble up in you in return. Before you can try to get any answers, he continues. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t break up with me.”

If you didn’t know him well by now, you would have jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Instead, you try to calm yourself and him down. “Jaemin, what are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For letting you go home alone. For staying at the party. Because that girl tried to dance with me. Because I’m a terrible boyfriend. Because-”

With each thing he lists, you get more confused. One thing you’re certain of, however, is that Jaemin is the opposite of a bad boyfriend. You cut him off. “Jaemin, stop. I went home because I wasn’t feeling well and I told you to stay because I wanted you to have fun. You sent that girl away, so why does she even matter? You’re not a terrible boyfriend. I have no clue where you got that idea from.”

There’s a couple seconds of just his shaky breathing over the phone before he croaks out a quiet, “What?”

“I’m not mad at you. And I wasn’t ignoring you either. I was asleep until ten minutes ago.” You’re not used to hearing Jaemin like this, but that doesn’t mean the right words are hard to find. In fact, they’re just on the tip of your tongue, tumbling out seamlessly. “I love you a lot, Jaemin. I wouldn’t play those sorts of passive aggressive games with you. I also have no intentions of breaking up with you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice seems more even, like he’s taken control of himself again. You know he’s had some bad experiences with ex-girlfriends, so you’re certain these worries came from them. You’ll have to talk to him about that sometime. “Can you… can you come over?”

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart bleed for him, this boy you’ve unwittingly given your heart to over the last year. When he’s only been perfect to you, you want to return the favor. “Of course,” you say, your voice soothing even over the staticy phone line, “I’ll be over soon. I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Sixteen.

Na Jaemin is unbothered by the fact that anyone could be watching when he does embarrassing things. Over time, his behavior has become so normal to you that you don’t even notice sometimes.

You had been out of the apartment all day, working on a group project in the university library, and it’s just before eight at night when you’re returning. You shoot your lovely boyfriend a text asking him to open the door for you because you have your hands full with the takeout you brought back for the both of you and, unsurprisingly, you’re greeted by a hug and smattering of kisses pressed to your face.

“You were gone so long, I missed you,” he whines, hugging you in a way that has you dangerously close to dropping either the bag of takeout you have in one hand or the bag of supplies for your project that you have in the other.

“Jaems, you’re not a puppy, you can stand to not see me for a few hours.” Though the words sound reprimanding, there’s an undeniable sweet fondness in your voice that tells him that you missed him too. He abandons your cheeks and forehead and nose to kiss you directly on the lips a moment later, the feeling of his mouth against yours showing that he’s smiling more than he’s kissing. For a moment, you forget about the bags in your hands and focus on the warmth of his body against yours, melting against him with a contented hum. You would have been happy to lose yourself in the moment entirely, were it not for the comment being directed at you from just down the hall.

“Gross.” Somehow, both of you had missed the fact that your sixteen-year-old neighbor had opened the door of the apartment next to yours and is grimacing at your public display of affection. It’s not the first time he’s seen the two of you doing lovey-dovey things in front of your apartment instead of inside of it, but what he usually witnessed consisted of short pecks on the cheek and hand holding, not full blown romantic kisses. You might have laughed at the scene if you weren’t thoroughly embarrassed, taking a step back from Jaemin. As your boyfriend takes the bag of food out of your hand, giving you a sly smile, your neighbor walks by, muttering at you two as he does so. “You live right there and you have to do that in the hall?”

“Don’t worry, kid, your time will come!” Jaemin responds cheerily, making you sigh softly and jokingly hit him on the arm.

“He’s right, you know!” You say, shouldering past your boyfriend to get into the apartment. “We could have moved about two steps and not subjected him to that.”

“You know my love can’t wait!” After the door shuts behind him and he sets down the food, he wrangles you into the same position you were in outside, pressing another kiss to your pouting lips. “And I know you like it.”

Seventeen.

Na Jaemin always chooses the worst movies. Okay, not really. He usually chooses really good movies. They’re only the worst because he has seen you cry at an inordinate number of them. Whether it be from fear at the various jumpscares in his favorite genre of horror or a movie about heartbreak in any of its forms, your tear ducts never cooperate with you when you tell them that you’re not going to cry.

Tonight is no different. Somehow, the two of you had settled on watching The Hunger Games and you know for sure that you’re going to cry at this one. And cry you do. During one particularly sad part, you’re trying your best to cry softly, but Jaemin can feel you shaking against his side, where you’re cuddled up against him. All he has to do is turn his head slightly to see the tears sliding down your face. He frowns, reaching out to rub at the tear tracks on your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Are you still crying? That scene has been over for like five minutes now.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the crying. “I can’t help it, it’s just so sad.”

He’s stopped watching the movie now, too busy staring into your tear-filled eyes. “Do you only cry when you’re watching movies? I swear I’ve seen you cry at like seventeen different movies but never about any of your own problems.”

To you, hearing him say that is relatively expected. You’ve been dating him for just under three quarters of a year now. “Unsurprising,” you sniffle, resting at the urge to reach up and rub at your own eyes because you enjoy the feeling of his warm hands on your face, “I don’t cry in front of other people a lot.”

“Do you cry a lot? By yourself?” His voice is soft and has a heart-wrenching hint of sadness to it. You can’t exactly read him like a book yet, but you know that he probably feels like he’s failed as a boyfriend somehow. Carefully, you reach up to rest your hand over his.

“Not really…” It’s not a lie, but that look on Jaemin’s face is still there. The one that says your guess about how he’s feeling is right.

“You can cry around me, you know. I’ll take all your sadness away.” His profession is so sincere, so sweet that it almost makes you start crying again. You know that he truly means it, too.

“Jaemin…” The look has turned into something slightly more hopeful, pleading for you to let him in. “Okay. I’ll try.” Try? Neither of you know exactly what you’re going to try to do, yet it’s still enough for both of you. After that, he seems to snap back to his normal self, pressing little kisses all over your face and dragging you into his lap. Even so, it’s clear that neither forget the words you exchanged.

Eighteen.

Na Jaemin has always made more than enough time for you. Though there’s always a new school, family, or friend event to attend, he rejects about a quarter of them for quiet stay-at-home dates with you. As often as possible, he tries to bring you with him and you try to bring him with you to any of your own events. Sometimes, though, he has to go alone.

You’ll admit that, in the last few weeks, you’ve gotten far too used to your boyfriend being at home. This time, he has some sort of family event back in his hometown and, though he invited you to join him, you can’t because of a huge test you have on Monday. However, your shared apartment feels far too quiet without him. Throughout the day, you catch yourself when you’re about to call out to him to ask him a question or simply for a distraction. You distract yourself enough during dinner by going out for a friend, but then you’re back in your apartment by ten at night. To your disappointment, Jaemin has already sent you a goodnight text, saying that he wishes he could talk but he has to wake up early. After sending him a goodnight text back, you resign yourself to idly watching some Netflix show that you don’t remember very much of.

That night, you toss and turn in your bed, unable to sleep. The space where Jaemin normally sleeps feels too cold. Somewhere in your restlessness, you start to feel somewhat embarrassed. You’re really this dependent on your boyfriend? Still... it’s just so strange not having him here.

The comfort of the thought that he’s sleeping soundly in his bed in his hometown is enough for you to stop messing up your sheets with your movement and try to settle down. You know he would be telling you to fall asleep quickly so you can keep studying for your test, the entire reason you’re still here in the first place. Even with your head resting on his pillow on his side of the bed, his familiar scent wrapped around you as much it can be, you still count three sets of one hundred sheep before you even feel tired. The last number you remember is three hundred and eighteen.

Nineteen.

Na Jaemin has quite the memory for specifics when it comes to you. Whether it be the type of bagel you like to eat in the morning or the date of your mother’s birthday, he’s always remembering things about you. It’s quite sweet and is just another reminder of how important you are to him. You struggle a bit more with some of those things, but every detail you bring up that you remember about him has him glowing.

“Can you believe we met when we were teenagers?” Jaemin says it out of nowhere one day when both of you are lounging around your apartment.

You hum in response, looking away from your book and tapping your chin. “Hm, I guess you’re right. Nineteen feels like a long time ago, though.”

“You’re talking like we’re old. I don’t know about you, but I'm still young as a spring chicken.”

You can’t help laughing at that. “You want me to believe you’re not old when you use that expression?”

He turns his nose up at you, refusing to smile when you nudge him in the side. “Words are timeless, thank you very much.”

“Mhm, okay. Maybe you’ve just been a vampire this entire time and you’re actually two hundred years old, trying to trick me.”

He sits up, mustering up a look of pure innocence. “Me? A vampire? Trick you? Whatever would make you think that?”

“Well, you’re too handsome to be any normal human.” You’re almost proud of how you set that one up when his face lights up.

“What does that make you, then? An angel?” Though you don’t blush as easily as you used to, it’s still hard to simply swallow all of the flattery he throws at you, even if it’s a taste of your own medicine this time. Still, you attempt to continue the banter.

“You’ve corrupted this angel, then, Mr. Vampire.”

He pouts. “Corrupted you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He pauses for a moment, then gives you a sly smile. “I suppose you have learned how to flirt better because of me.”

“Well, I had to get used to it somehow. Then again, it could just be natural talent.” Before he can laugh because you both know that’s not true, you swoop in, pressing a kiss to his lips. He relishes in the feeling for a moment, then proceeds to drag you onto his lap. As inconsequential as that memory may be, you’ll always remember the way your apartment filled with sunlight and laughter that day.

Twenty.

Na Jaemin, in all of his obviousness, can also be quite sneaky.

You learned this well in just the first few weeks you were dating, but even now, a year later, you still find it to be almost out of character for him. He’s strange in the way that he is simultaneously the most subtle and the least subtle person you know.

When you receive the text ‘Are you okay?’ from him one night while you’re sitting in your own apartment, face pressed into your pillow while you play sad songs and mope over the particularly frustrating homework that you left scattered on your desk, you’re slightly suspicious. Does he just have a strange sixth sense for you being upset? Still, you muster up the energy to stop moping and respond to him. Before you can finish typing a drab ‘I’m fine’ to him, you receive a second message from him.

JM: Are you okay?

JM: You don’t have to lie

After a moment of thought, you erase your message and start typing a new one.

Y/N: Not really… this assignment is killing me and ngl I spent the last twenty minutes crying

JM: oh baby

JM: you know that i believe in you more than anyone, right? if anyone can do it, you can!

Y/N: you really don’t know how much that means to me, Jaems :((

JM: check your spotify real quick :)

You’re confused, but you do as he says. You scroll through it for a moment before a new playlist catches your eye. The playlist’s title is simply a sun emoji and it says that you created it. You don’t remember the playlist at all, though. When you scroll through it, you nearly tear up again. All twenty of the songs in the playlist are your absolute favorites, ones that make you happy no matter what. Jaemin had to have made this playlist, right? Your suspicions are only confirmed when, after you start playing the first song, he sends you a sun emoji.

JM: you logged onto your account on my phone last week

JM: i know you only listen to sad songs when you’re upset, so put on that playlist whenever you don’t want to talk about whatever’s bothering you and you need a pick-me-up, okay?

You call him right after that, tears of happiness at how caring, how sweet, how perfect he is slipping down your face this time. At some point, time escapes you, so when you glance at the clock on your phone, you’re shocked to see that an hour has passed. With a promise to call him again after you’re done with your assignment, you hang up. Except, the first thing you do after you hang up isn’t to start working again. Instead, you edit his contact in your phone to have a little sun emoji in his name.

Twenty-one.

Na Jaemin has never minded you borrowing his clothes to wear.

Last night was one of those nights that you stayed over at his apartment - not an uncommon occurrence - so you’re digging through his closet, attempting to find something suitable to wear after you use his shower. As you’re pawing through his closet, your fingers wrap around a particularly comfy looking hoodie when you see a gem of his past hidden behind it. Abandoning the hoodie, you pull out an old jersey, his last name and the number twenty-one stamped on the back. “Nana, tell me about this. You played basketball?”

He looks up from his bed, where he’s lounging about, scrolling on his phone. The sight of the athleticwear draws a fond smile onto his face. “I played in high school for a bit! Jeno pushed me to try out one year and I actually did well enough that I got on the team.” He gets up and takes the shirt from your hands. “Ah, this brings back memories. This is how I got my lucky number, you know.” You make a little noise of recognition in response. The sight of him gazing at the jersey with a warm, nostalgic look in his eyes makes you smile. “I’m glad I got to see it, but why did you bring it to school?”

“Thought I could wear it as a Halloween costume or something one year. Or didn’t have the heart to leave it home, maybe.” You understand the feeling. You couldn’t leave one or two of your own high school shirts at home. Realizing how strange the comment has made the atmosphere, he stops gazing at the item in his hands, giving you a mischievous look instead. “You know, basketball player isn’t that bad of an idea for a Halloween costume, but we should do a couple costume. If I’m a basketball player, you get to be a sexy cheerleader.”

That sudden comment makes you snort. “In your dreams. I’ll be a cheerleader who wears a hoodie and sweatpants to perform.”

Though the conversation devolves into both of you playfully pushing each other with words and physical touches, it’s those small moments where you get a look at a different side of Jaemin that always stand out to you.

Twenty-two.

Na Jaemin does a really good job at convincing you to make bad decisions sometimes. This week’s bad decision is a twenty-four hour movie marathon that he insisted on having once he learned that you’d never pulled an all nighter. The first movie was his pick, then the second was yours, and then his again before you both agreed to put on the entire Lord of the Rings series.

Once the sun has long left the sky, the day starts taking a toll on you and, whenever you start to feel your eyes drooping, Jaemin prods you, telling you to not be lame and to stay awake, except one glance at him tells you that he’s also feeling the exhaustion. Even the abhorrent number of espresso shots he puts into his coffee can’t keep him awake forever, especially since you had convinced him that it was cheating to have anything too caffeinated after a certain time of the evening. You had started at nine in the morning the day before and the sun is now peaking through the blinds of Jaemin’s apartment.

“Only,” Jaemin says, glancing at the time on his phone, “two hours to go…”

His body is far too warm and the blanket you’re snuggled under is far too soft for you to be able to last much longer, you’re sure. You also know that it would invigorate you if you got up, walked around, maybe drank some water, but a part of you doesn’t want to succeed at your twenty-four hour movie marathon.

The little bit of extra warmth that lands on you from the sun is enough to lull you to sleep. As you nod off at around seven, twenty-two hours after you started, you’re too tired to notice that Jaemin had already fallen asleep, his nose pressed into your hair and his arm around your waist.

Twenty-three.

Na Jaemin has slowly divulged his secrets to you.

No ticklish person willingly gives up the information that they’re ticklish - you have to discover it on your own. You had your suspicions that he’s weak to being tickled when you first snuck up on him while he was wearing earbuds one day. You had surprised him with a hug from behind, like he so frequently does to you, and he instinctively responded to your fingertips grazing him side by squirming. He twisted in your arms, turning around to face you, his eyebrows raising in surprise before he broke out into a bright smile. When he had embraced you and popped out his earbuds, engaging you in a conversation and cooing about how happy he was to see you, you nearly forgot about his strange reaction to your touch.

You decide to run a little test. When you’re eating dinner with him at his apartment later that night, you reach over at one point and prod at his side with your fingers. His reaction is more than you expected - he practically doubles over, twisting away from you and swatting at your hand. Once you pull your hand away, smirking at your discovery, he recovers from being tickled and gives you a look of betrayal. Before he can complain, you speak. “We’ve been together for more than a year now and you didn’t tell me you’re ticklish?”

“I’m not!” That denial is the first thing out of his mouth, but when you make a motion with your hand that threatens to tickle him again, he raises both of his hands in defense. “Okay! I may have a slight weakness to being tickled...”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jaemin. Completely normal.” He just shrugs, but seems to be more relaxed. “Will you trust me for a moment?”

“I always trust you, I-” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, you swing a leg over his, straddling him with your phone in hand. “Whoa,” he says, his hands instinctively going to your hips, “I didn’t know you were feeling frisky tonight.”

“Don’t be gross.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Me, being gross? You’re the one who just hopped onto my lap like-”

“Just tell me when it gets to be too much, okay?” You open the timer app on the device in your hand.

His eyes widen. “Wait, what-” He is interrupted as you press start on your timer and start tickling him furiously. The air of his apartment fills with his tortured laughter. He squirms uncomfortably under you, making it hard to keep your balance atop his legs. Finally, in a feat of incredible focus, he grabs onto both of your hands, holding them down on top of your own lap. A glance at your phone screen tells you that he lasted twenty-three seconds of your tickling. He’s red in the face, an uncommon sight for you, and he’s breathing heavily, a disappointed pout on his face. “You could have warned me! What if I just did that to you out of nowhere?”

“I’m not ticklish,” you say triumphantly, smirking at him, “and you pull any number of surprises on me all the time.”

“You’re so weird. It looks like I’ll just have to “surprise” you more often to make up for this, then,” he grumbles, releasing your hands to make air quotes in his sentence. Feeling a bit guilty, you lean forward slightly, kissing him on the tip of his nose.

“I look forward to it.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, pretending like he doesn’t think what you’re saying is unbearably cute. “I hate you.”

“Well, I love you. Forgive me?”

You get your answer when you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek, but he simply captures your lips with his own instead.

Twenty-four.

Na Jaemin overworks himself far too much for your liking. That’s probably why he has a cold right now and is too miserable to get out of bed. When he finally admitted to being sick, you opted to visit and take care of him without even thinking too much about it. You never mind helping him out - he is your boyfriend, after all - but it certainly does not feel good to see someone you care about be in so much pain.

You let yourself into his apartment with the spare key he gave you, ingredients for some soup in hand, and all you can see is darkness. His blinds are drawn, so you feel around for the lightswitch, flicking it on. Everything inside is disturbingly untouched, telling you that he really hasn’t gotten out of bed today. Sliding off your shoes and depositing your food in the kitchen, you make your way to his bedroom, knocking lightly. You’re met with a groan, so you let yourself in. All that you can see of your boyfriend is a lump of blankets. You would laugh at the sight if this wasn’t the most ill you’ve ever seen him. “Jaemin,” you coo, padding towards his bed and putting a hand on what you think is his shoulder, “I’m here.”

His head pops out from under the blankets. He’s sweaty, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him, but the very characteristic pout on his lips makes you believe that he might not be dying just yet. A moment later, he’s ducking back under the covers, hiding his face. “No,” he whines, drawing out the sound, “you can’t look at me. I’m not handsome right now.”

You have to stifle a laugh at that. “Honey, you’re always handsome. Have you eaten anything yet?”

He peeks out so that only the parts of his face above his nose are visible. “I don’t want to get up.” The sound comes out muffled, but you manage to decipher it.

“Lucky for you that I’m here so that I can bring it to you.”

Through the day, you feed him bit by bit and force him to drink water and tea, banning coffee because he doesn’t need that sort of caffeination in his system. You even coax him into taking a bath in the evening, where he nearly disrobes in front of you in his sick haze. As he’s doing that, you have some time to think and you discover that, though you would rather your boyfriend not suffer and be back in good health, you don’t mind him relying on you for once. Jaemin has always been there for you, supporting you with his entire heart and taking the lead whenever you couldn’t, and now it feels like you’re paying him back in at least some small way.

When he returns to his room, clothed this time, you take your time drying his hair for him. You’re about to stand and wish him goodnight, but he takes ahold of your hand as you do so, tugging on it. This is a familiar situation - there have been many times where Jaemin has stopped you from going home at night and made you stay with him. Except, usually, he would just pull you into bed with him, using his strength advantage. Now, the tug on your hand is small, weak, and your heart hurts at the expression he’s making. He’s pleading with his eyes as best as he can. “Please stay.”

“But,” you start, already feeling the weakness of the excuse, “you’re sick and I’ll just take up too much space in your bed and…” You sigh. “I’ll stay.” Luckily enough, you wore comfy clothes to his apartment. It’s warm under his blankets and his skin isn’t blazing anymore like it was earlier in the day. He’s facing you, blinking at you with half-lidded eyes. Slowly, his hand slides up, running through your hair before it drops down to find your hand. “Are you gonna sleep now?” You whisper, seeing his eyes droop even more.

“Mhm,” he hums in response, thumb idly rubbing over the top of your hand. A minute later, he’s stilled almost completely. After not much longer, you follow him into dreamland.

When you awaken, it’s because sunlight is burning through your eyelids. With a quiet groan, you realize that you forgot to close the blinds of his room last night after you had forced him to let some light in during the day. Upon opening your eyes, you’re greeted with the sight of Jaemin smiling at you, sleep still heavy on his face. “Good morning, beautiful.”

His voice is gravely, but doesn’t have the depressing weariness to it that it did yesterday. With a smile of your own, you murmur back to him. “Good morning to you, too. I only get one day off from your shameless flirting?”

“Shameless? You want me to have shame for flirting with my lovely, amazing, caring, talented-”

“You’re doing it again-”

“-girlfriend who took care of me when I was feeling my worst?” With that, you purse your lips, looking away from him. He proceeds to smother you in cuddles, pulling you against him and practically wrapping his entire body around yours.

“Na Jaemin, you’re still sick!” You try to say, but it comes out as a series of muffled sounds and he ignores you, continuing to cuddle you furiously. He pulls away briefly just to pepper you with kisses. 

“I‘m only sick of how you’re not returning my love,” he says half in the middle of peck on your cheek.

“If I didn’t return your love, would I have stayed here for the last twenty-four hours taking care of you?” He stops just short of kissing you directly on the lips, pulling back to give you a look of shock.

“We spent our first full day together and I was completely out of it the whole time?” You’re about to open your mouth to scold him for trying to make you feel bad about taking care of him, but he breaks into a familiar mischievous smile. “Looks like you’ll have to spend all of today here to make for it.” When he sees that you’re about to protest, he continues. “Or all of today and tomorrow.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, holding back the grin threatening to spread on your face, too. “It seems like someone is feeling better. It’s like you don’t even need me to stay here and take care of you.”

He falls back onto the bed instantly, throwing an arm over his forehead and feigning illness. “Oh no, it’s so much worse than before. I can’t get out of bed.”

You spend the next few minutes trying to wrestle him out of the comfort of his blankets, only to find that, in all truthfulness, he is still a bit weak when it comes to walking and any other form of exertion. That night, he forces you to stay over once again and, honestly, you’re not sure you were ever opposed to the idea at all.

Twenty-five.

Na Jaemin does not make a point of crying in front of you. He also doesn’t make a point of showing you when he’s really, truly upset, either, for the most part. He scolded you before about keeping your tears to yourself, that he’s always there with an open shoulder should you ever need to cry, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him cry on one hand. For someone so warm and radiant, he’s miraculously closed off. He never shies away from showing love and it’s a constant tug-of-war between the two of you over who loves who the most, as he won’t accept your care in return half the time.

It’s about a week before finals and you’ve deemed that you completed a satisfactory amount of studying for the evening. Somehow, Jaemin hasn’t joined you in your shared bedroom yet, so you step out to check on him, stretching your arms above your head and yawning. A quick glance at your phone tells you that the date has already changed from twenty-four to twenty-five, meaning that it’s past midnight. When you emerge into the kitchen, you see Jaemin’s figure hunched over the table, his forehead resting on the trackpad of his laptop. Well, that’s concerning. He doesn’t lift his head as you approach, simply staring down at the floor from his strange position. “Jaemin?” You question, reaching forward to prod his shoulder. He just groans quietly as you do so. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he mumbles, speaking towards the floor, “you should go to bed.” Despite his reassurances, a genuineness is missing from his voice and he still isn’t looking at you. Sighing quietly to yourself, you get on the ground, squeezing between some chairs to get under the table so you can look him in the eyes. Surprise lights his eyes up slightly as you grab his hand and tug on it gently.

“I’m not going to bed,” you say gently, the familiar warmth of your hands feeling soothing on his skin, “until you tell me what’s wrong and how I can help.”

It’s his turn to sigh. Still, he relents. “There’s nothing you can do to help. The paper I’ve been working on for the last six hours just closed randomly and I lost four pages of work.”

“That’s still fixable! Not a lost cause.”

“It’s due in the morning.”

“Oh.” You frown for a moment before letting out a quiet hum. “Hm, think of it this way. You’ve already written the paper, so now you just have to remember it, and maybe use this chance to make it even better than it was before! And the sooner you finish it, the sooner you’ll be done, if that makes sense.” Though his forehead is still pressed against the table, he nods to the best of his ability.

“I guess you’re right…”

“I’ll even make coffee for you if you want.”

He laughs quietly, only half of what a normal laugh would be from him. “You hate when I drink coffee.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say, pouting, “I’m okay with it when it helps you. And because you like it.” At that, he smiles slightly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“It’s okay, I don’t need coffee right now anyways. All I need is for you to come here so I can kiss you.” Encouraged by the fact that he seems in slightly better spirits now, you get too excited and try to lean forward from your position under the table, only succeeding on banging your head on the edge of the wood. You pull back with a groan, ignoring the full laughs now coming out of your boyfriend. As he tries to calm his laughter down, he pushes back his chair and slides to the ground, joining you on the floor. He moves the hand you have cupped over the bump forming on your scalp, his lips pressing over the spot instead. Before you can remark on him laughing on you, his leans forward, kissing you fully on the lips. You sit on the floor with him, the light from your apartment bleeding out into the dark night outside the window, letting him find comfort in your lips against his and your hands intertwined.

When he pulls away, the words leave your lips so easily. “I love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but that’s okay. That’s okay because he’s the only one who needs to hear it. He’s usually the one who says it first, always saying it so easily, but, this time, the words leave your mouth as smoothly as they usually leave his. He only lets the surprise show on his face for a moment before he’s grinning and then kissing you one more time.

“I love you, too.”

Both of you know that you shouldn’t spend much longer just kissing and exchanging confessions on the floor, but you take just a few more minutes to do so anyways. Finally, the two of you get up - more carefully this time - and he doesn’t complain as you drag a chair over and sit next to him as he wakes his laptop back up to work on his paper. He especially doesn’t complain when you drift off about two hours later and your head droops onto his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

Jaemin’s arms are suddenly around you from behind, bumping your arm and making your pen skitter slightly over the page, disrupting your sentence.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you sigh and don’t respond to the kiss he presses to your cheek before you turn towards him. He slides into the chair next to you and rests his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand. “Na Jaemin, do you see what you just made me do?”

“I would be sorry, but you’ve been cooped up in here for like four hours now and you haven’t said a single word to me. I know you’re not doing homework, so…” He looks at you expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. He glances down at your notes and you quickly move to cover them with your arms.

“I’m making a memory journal! You can’t look until I get all of them down.” He moves his head, trying to see under your arms, so you quickly snap the notebook shut, hiding the words inside.

“So secretive,” he grumbles, eyeing the closed notebook, “how many do you have so far?” “Twenty five.”

“You really have that many? Color me impressed.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at that. “I’m trying to get to one hundred, one memory for each number.”

His eyes widen. “You’ll really have one for every number?”

“I mean… it’s not always easy to think of one… I-” As you’re speaking, he suddenly lunges forward, pulling the notebook away from you and flying away from his seat when you try to grab it back from him. “Na Jaemin!”

He ignores you, attempting to open your notebook and read what you have written, but you pursue him, forcing him to dodge you repeatedly. When you try to circle him, he simply raises the item above his head, avoiding your tries at snatching it back. Then, he tosses it onto your bed. Your eyes swing back and forth between him and the item before you go for it. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s suddenly tossing you onto the bed on your stomach as well. You shriek his name when he picks the notebook back up before you can and lies on top of you, weighing you down with his body. For a moment, you’re squirming under him, trying to smack at him, but you find that your leverage is too poor, so you just lie prone underneath him while he flips the notebook open and his eyes flit quickly over the words. “Jaemin,” you whine, “seriously.”

He ignores you, but you watch as his face shifts, his lips parting in some sort of happy surprise and eyebrows lifting. “Is this how you remember it?”

“Yeah,” you huff, his weight putting uncomfortable pressure on your lungs, “is there something wrong with it?”

“Nothing is wrong with it,” he says, eyes still moving over the page, “you’re just so... cute. Like, even more than usual.”

“If you think it’s that cute, you can get off of me so I can keep working.” You wiggle a little underneath him again.

“You should take a break,” he declares, getting off of you quickly and snapping the book shut. He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you up.

“You just want me to amuse you.”

“No,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout, “I miss my girlfriend and I want to spend time making more memories with her.” He leans forward, his lips by your ear. Your hair stirs as his breath disturbs some of it. “In case you didn’t know, that’s you.”

He starts to tug you along, away from your bed and the incomplete notebook that is now resting on the blankets. “Wait, I didn’t even get to write about when you made me go cliff diving, or how your heart rate speeds up whenever we’re together, or-”

“Y/N.” He turns to you, still holding your hand. “It’ll help to go make more memories now. You’ll get to one hundred eventually. Let’s go.”

As he’s tugging you out of your apartment a minute later, the number placard on the front of your unit reflects back some of the hallway light. You make a note to yourself.

Twenty six. The apartment number where you live with the love of your life, where you sit and write the story of how you met, and where he can take you away to go on even more adventures.

[sorry-but-we-have-moved]

The ABSOLUTE CRAZIEST shit happened on my Sims 3 game last night, so i’m going to make a long list detailing the events in chronological order.

Also note, my Sims are both fictional characters and OCs living on this resort-type lot. The lot is custom built, and the main focal point of the story is the pool, which is located in the center of the lot. In hindsight, this all could have been avoided had i had more step-ladders and had never added a fence around the edges to prevent Sims from climbing out. Also, it probably didn’t help that i used a trick to merge the basement with the pool, a trick that proves itself to be very buggy. I’ll be referring to Sims by their first names, and i’m only tagging/including the ones that are relevant to the story.

- The household i’m controlling is 8 people, 2 older adults and 6 younger adults, 7 are related to one another. At the beginning of this story, they’re all pretty spread out and split up in the place.

-Alice, the oldest youngster, is the only one at the pool besides her father Jack. She jumps in via diving board.

- ^ Seeing this, Jack decides to enter the nearby bar to “express fear of swimming” to Mei, who is listening to a woman named Salotta play piano. Mei doesn’t seem to want to respond to Jack, or she’s too enthralled with the piano playing to pay attention. He sits and waits there for many, many minutes.

- Meanwhile, Alice(OC) is already out of the pool, which is now filled to the brim with other sims. I initially don’t see this as a problem because they’re still able to swim around and use the ladders. What i don’t realize is the ones who have to wait on others to climb out are the ones in danger.

- Jack finally gives up trying to tell Mei of the impending disaster and just turns to face the piano player and listen. Again, i figure since he’s no longer worried about the pool, that the trouble is over. How wrong i am.

- Seconds later, Hoang(OC) drowns. Everyone’s first reaction is to immediately try and leave the pool.

Then, after climbing out, Lucio makes his way onto the water slide and re-enters the pool Hoang just died in.

- A majority of them just never leave the pool, in fact they started having a fucking breath holding contest. BLU Scout and Candie(OC), nearby also holding a contest are Troy and Alice. The choices Sims make in the face of death truly astound me.

- At this point, Hoang appears to have been blipped from existence because there’s no ghost, no corpse, no urn or gravemarker, and no sign of the Grim Reaper coming to get his body. The only one who’s reacting to his death is Guthard(OC) because they shared a household. Guthard also happened to be present in the pool when Hoang died.

- Back in the bar, everyone is reacting to the drowning with symbols that suggest they want to try to find Hoang’s body in the pool but can’t. Everyone in the pool appears stuck, like they, too, are searching or they’re just in total shock.

- ^ Remember, Jack has the Hydrophobia trait. He has a fear of swimming, and knew something bad was going to happen with the pool. But, against his better judgement he is now IN that very pool, looking highly distressed but again, he put himself in there. Also, people are still having underwater contests cause that’s what you do when someone drowns. - Also, he just casually turns into Jesus because of course he does:

- ^ The Grim Reaper finally shows up to try to collect Hoang’s ghost. But there’s a problem. He, like others, is climbing into the pool to try to find the body, but it’s not there. So he spends a good few minutes climbing in and out of the pool from different floors, taking the nearby tube elevators as he does.

- Suddenly, ANOTHER person drowns, this time it’s Akande (Doomfist). Now, HIS death is really fucky for several reasons. Shortly after he drowns, EVERYONE that was in the pool suddenly ascends through the roof of the lot. The only remaining Sim is Ashe because she was taking the water slide.

- After some searching, i find everyone NOT on the roof, but on the bottom floor in the basement area. Outside of the pool somehow.

- Now Akande is wandering around, apparently trapped in physical form so he’s not going to be collected to go to the underworld anytime soon:

-He produces TWO, i repeat, TWO gravemarkers in his name. One of these, i’m assuming is Hoang’s and the name’s just a misprint by the game, but there’s another glitch going on that is absolutely hilarious. - Akande is technically a ghost according to the game, since he started phasing through walls and doing the floating animation. But at the same time, he doesn’t have the ghost texture, and he’s able to interact with the environment like he never died, with the added bonus that he can haunt things and people.

- ^ Angela, whom always has some form of interaction with him in previous playthroughs, decides to strike up a casual conversation with him now that he’s a permanent ghost resident. Gabriel (Reaper), who’d been absent this entire time, suddenly rushes to the scene and looks at Akande like “oh what the f***?” - And just like other playthroughs Akande makes a mean comment to Angela which she berates him for before leaving. Even while dead, he’s still an ass.

- ^ I check on the other members of the household to see how they’re handling the chaos, Hazel(OC) is just in the kitchen sharing a canned soup lunch with Jenny(OC) so i’d say this didn’t get to him too much. Also, Akande decides to get himself a ghost salad from the mini-fridge:

- After eating the salad he goes and grabs one of the soccer balls from the “item shop” i have set up on the lot. Then everyone walks in and grabs a ball for themselves, now they’re taking soccer lessons from Akande’s ghost

- Alice, for some reason, goes all the way to the opposite end of the lot to play soccer not with Akande, but with BLU Scout from earlier - Akande sees himself in one of the mirrors on the lot and thinks he looks pretty good as a ghost - Then he goes upstairs and haunts a telescope for a few minutes

- ^ This also happens - Third drowning death happens out of nowhere, and it’s Juelle(OC). This leads to a cascade effect and Jenny(OC) drowns around the same time, and despite me taking the time to actually delete some of the fence now that i’ve suspected it to be the problem, it doesn’t prevent the next several deaths from happening - Mei is the next one to drown. And Angela just. Decided to quicken the process:

Mercy said “No heals 4 U” - Junkrat and Roadhog end up dying together which idk whether to be happy or sad about that, either way they died a couple - Candie and Tyreen go down next, followed by Ashe and Salotta (The piano player from earlier) - Lucio dies right next to the fucking step-ladder like he was gonna climb out and then just gave up

Like seriously dude - Troy lasted a pretty damn long time in this cursed fucking pool, but then he drowns as well:

- Akande is still living as a fucking ghost btw, and he’s casually floating past the pool as all of this happens like “hm. interesting.” - The Grim Reaper, meanwhile, FINALLY gets around to sending ghosts into the underworld. Sometimes people walk by it, react to it like it’s a roadshow, and go about their business. Just some normal everyday shit, y’know? - When he finishes, Grim goes down to the laundry room and does laundry for everyone, only to leave a soggy pile of clothes on the floor in front of the washing machine.

- ^ He also goes upstairs and mops up a puddle someone made, i guess someone pissed themselves seeing him or the ghosts - Laughs while pointing at Gabriel (mad he took the moniker of Reaper i guess?) and then just poofs out-of-scene - Moira starting mourning Akande and Roadhog (Junkrat and Roadhog were part of the Talon household cause convenience) in the kitchen which makes Akande start ghost crying - At this point the population on this lot has been dramatically reduced, so it’s actually impossible to fill it up to the point of overcrowding. And it seems that everyone’s learned their lesson, and they never get in the pool ever again. They just walk past it on their way to the bar or something. Also, shockingly, no one from my active household ended up dying. - However, Kyle(OC) ended up frozen for a few minutes because he was going to mourn basically EVERYONE who ended up drowning and that filled his action queue too full. I had to cancel the actions so he could use the bathroom and get some sleep

- TLDR This story ultimately ends, entire households have been decimated, pets have lost their owners to a fucking pool, i can’t do anything with the gravemarkers even on my own community lot, no one wants to go swimming ever again in their lives, i think i now have PTSD

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