#this seems like a letter to myself... ha..

[itsnesss]

𝐏.𝐒. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬; minho moon ( series ) O2

pairing ; minho moon x female!reader

content ; fluff, romantic tension, angst, personal conflicts, rivalry, enemies to lovers

summary ; you never imagined your life would change so much with a simple exchange. in canada, everything was predictable, but when the chance to study in seoul came, you took it. you met minho. a tall, serious guy with a cold attitude who made you feel even more out of place. from the very beginning, you hated each other. every encounter was filled with disdainful looks and harsh words. your first meeting was so uncomfortable that all you wanted was to escape his indifference. but as time went on, you realized that minho wasn’t just an obstacle—he was the beginning of something unexpected. what started with hatred and a simple fall led to a connection that made you feel more alive than ever

status ; ongoing !!

— navigation ; OO1. OO2.

TWO ; P.S. People Often Judge

You walk towards the dormitory with a slight sense of frustration. There were no available rooms for you after talking to the director. When you arrive, the girls are already settled.

"Hey, Kitty," you say, trying to sound calm. "How are we going to organize ourselves for sleeping?"

Kitty, with a somewhat uncomfortable smile, looks up.

"Well, Yuri and Julianna decided to share a bed. So, you’ll sleep with me. At least you won’t have to sleep on the couch, right?" Kitty laughs, but there’s something in her tone that makes you think she’s not entirely comfortable with the situation.

You nod, relieved that you won’t have to sleep on the couch, but you can’t help but feel awkward.

That night, when everyone settles in to sleep, you move closer to Kitty.

"Kitty, has anything weird been going on with the girls?" you ask, bluntly.

Kitty looks at you, a little surprised by the question. She doesn’t know how to respond, but when she sees your expression, she knows you want to talk.

"A bit. I feel like there’s something uncomfortable, especially with Yuri and Julianna. They’re always... sticking together. It’s weird."

You nod, feeling a slight melancholy in your gaze.

"I try to keep myself busy so I’m not the third wheel." Kitty sighs. "But the truth is, I like Yuri, and I didn’t know how to tell her. I wrote a letter. But when I got here, she was already back with Julianna. It was a blow for me." Kitty laughs bitterly.

You look at her in silence. You didn’t expect such a personal revelation from Kitty, and it makes you feel a deeper connection to her. Kitty, always so extroverted, seems to be struggling with something much deeper.

"Wow, Kitty, I didn’t know…" you say, genuinely surprised.

Kitty smiles with a mix of sadness and gratitude.

"It’s not something I talk about much, but... well, thanks for listening." Kitty shifts a bit in bed, trying to get comfortable.

You nod, knowing that you understand more than she thinks. Despite the tension of the past hours, you feel closer to Kitty now.

The next day starts like any other, until you walk into the room where Mr. Moon’s project is going to take place. Kitty, as always, is with you, talking about anything to pass the time. However, before entering the room, you stop when you hear a conversation that makes you feel more distant than ever.

"I don’t like Stella that much," Minho says, with a casual attitude that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Kitty, surprised, asks with a teasing smile:

"Really? Doesn’t she appeal to you at all?"

Minho doesn’t beat around the bush:

"No, she doesn’t appeal to me. I saw her at the event, and there’s no chemistry. I don’t know, she’s just not my type." Minho shrugs indifferently. "What about you, though? How do you feel about Y/N?"

Your chest tightens when you hear your name. You can’t help it. The pain starts seeping into your chest.

Kitty responds with a nervous laugh:

"Well, yeah, Y/N is a good girl. I don’t understand why you’re asking, Minho."

Minho, with his usual tone, grimaces.

"I don’t know, I feel like something’s off about her. She doesn’t really convince me."

You freeze. It’s like you’ve been hit in the stomach. That’s the confirmation of something you already suspected. Minho doesn’t see you in a good light, and the discomfort you feel seems to be mutual. Without letting anyone see you, you turn away, your heart full of disappointment, and quickly walk off.

You walk briskly down the hall, not looking back. Minho’s words hit you like a wave, a cold pain slowly filtering into your chest. You don’t understand why he said it, why he made those assumptions about you when he doesn’t even know you well. What right did Minho have to say something like that? You think, your hands gripping the edges of your jacket as if you could erase the feeling of rejection that’s settled in your body.

At first, you try to ignore your own feelings, telling yourself it’s just a conversation without importance, something fleeting. But Minho’s words keep echoing in your head. He made assumptions without knowing you, and not only that, but he tried to sow doubt in Kitty. Why did he think he had the right to judge you?

The idea of going to the cafeteria seems like a useful distraction, so you head there to get something hot to drink.

When you arrive, you head to the coffee machine, hoping the smell of the brew can calm your anxiety. You take your drink in silence, watching as the other students chat and laugh, unaware of what’s going on in your head. You don’t want to think about Minho, but it’s impossible not to. The words he said about you, his assumptions about your life, all of it hurts.

With your drink in hand, you head to the Art Expression room. You don’t feel like socializing, but at least there you can focus on something different for a while. When you enter the classroom, you see Kitty, who is already sitting.

"Hi, Kitty," you say, dropping your backpack on the table before sitting down.

"Hey, Y/N! How’s it going?" Kitty responds, looking at you out of the corner of her eye but not pressing too much.

You sigh, preferring to leave the topic from the morning behind. But just as you’re about to say something else, Minho walks in. His presence fills the room immediately, as it always does. You tense up, and a thought quickly crosses your mind:

"It can’t be…"

Minho walks straight to his seat without even looking at you, but you already know it will be impossible to avoid any kind of interaction. The tension between you two has been in the air since the morning, and you feel it.

As if he hadn’t noticed the heavy atmosphere, Minho casts a mocking glance at you before speaking.

"Wow, what a coincidence. Seriously, can’t you sit somewhere else?" he says, looking at your seat with a mixture of annoyance and sarcasm.

Kitty, seeing the tension beginning to rise, quickly intervenes.

"Come on, guys. Can you stop fighting for five minutes? It’s not that serious," Kitty says, rolling her eyes and placing her hand in the center of the table, as if she’s some sort of mediator.

The atmosphere in the classroom becomes tense for a moment, but soon the door opens with force, interrupting the conversation. All the students turn to look at the entrance. The man who appears is tall, with a firm and elegant posture. It’s none other than Mr. Moon, Minho’s father, who is also the teacher in charge of the class. A murmur of surprise spreads across the room.

"Good morning, students," Mr. Moon greets in an authoritative voice. "Today we’re going to do something different. This isn’t just any class."

You and the rest of the students pay attention. What could he have in mind?

"Today we’ll determine who among you will earn a spot in the Advanced Voice program. We’ll also decide who we’ll cut off the mic as judges."

A feeling of excitement and nervousness fills the room. Some students seem excited, others tense. You, though somewhat surprised, can’t deny that the idea of participating in such an important event gives you a mix of anxiety and adrenaline.

"Each of you will present your performance, and I will be scoring. I’ve prepared a sheet with options for notes, so make sure you’re ready. Remember, it’s not just about talent; it’s about the connection you manage to convey. Trust your instincts," Mr. Moon adds.

You try to calm your nerves. You look at your sheet, quickly writing down some notes, before looking at the rest of the class. Minho, of course, seems completely confident, while Kitty can’t help but look at you with curiosity.

Finally, Mr. Moon begins to listen to each of the students. The room fills with singing, some more confident than others. You watch carefully, noticing how Minho, despite his arrogance, has a presence that draws attention. However, it’s not the only thing that stands out that morning.

At the end of the exercise, Mr. Moon begins announcing the results. Dae is the first to receive praise. Mr. Moon looks at him and says firmly:

"Dae has received unanimous approval. Well done!"

The class breaks into applause, and you can’t help but feel relieved for Dae, though your mind is preoccupied with what’s coming next.

Mr. Moon continues with the ratings until it’s Stella’s turn.

"Stella, I’m afraid I can’t accept your performance. Only one person voted for you... and that was the only one who agreed that your presentation had something to offer," Mr. Moon says with a neutral tone.

Stella stands in silence for a moment, looking at the other students before speaking.

"I didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings," she says softly, referring to Minhee, who is in the same row.

Minho, who has been silent, can’t help but intervene.

"He’s hurtful to let someone with no talent think they have what it takes," Minho says with a cold look, making it clear that he doesn’t plan to soften his words.

You feel the anger starting to build inside you.

"And what do you know about what it takes?" you respond quickly, not thinking too much about your words. "Maybe the problem is that you think too highly of yourself to judge others without seeing what they really have."

Mr. Moon watches the interaction between the two before speaking again.

"Minho is right, in part. Sometimes the truth hurts, but it’s better to know it. We can’t let false talent take over something this important."

Annoyed but unwilling to let it go, you just looked at Minho one last time. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but something told you that your teacher’s words wouldn’t be the last word in the internal battle you felt toward him.

After a long and exhausting day, you finally returned to your dorm. The living room was empty; your roommates had gone to a gay club. A mix of relief and loneliness filled your chest. You had the whole place to yourself, with no interruptions. You decided to take advantage of the quiet to do homework and disconnect from everything that had happened.

Sitting at your desk, surrounded by books and papers, you slowly worked through your assignments while thinking about what had happened with Minho that morning. You felt exhausted, as if you were incapable of understanding everything that was going on. Despite trying to focus on your studies, your mind kept returning to him—the boy who had turned your life into chaos in such a short time.

When you finished your homework, you collapsed onto your bed, deciding to take a break. You grabbed a bowl of ice cream from the fridge and turned on the TV, looking for a romantic movie to help you forget, even for a little while, the tension you felt. You couldn't allow Minho to keep occupying so much space in your mind.

It was late, and your roommates still hadn’t returned, so you enjoyed the peacefulness of the room. However, something bothered you: Stella had gone out with Minho. What did he see in Stella? You didn’t understand. You couldn’t deny that you felt a little jealous, though you didn’t even want to admit it to yourself. What was Minho doing with a girl like Stella? It was hard to comprehend.

As you got lost in your thoughts, your phone vibrated. It was your sister. You decided to answer, hoping for some comfort in the call.

"Y/N? How’s everything going?" she asked in a calm voice.

"Hey, sis," you replied, relieved to hear her. "I’ve had a weird day. I’m here, doing homework, eating ice cream, and watching a movie… I don’t know, I’m just a little confused."

"Why?" she asked, noticing the tension in your voice.

You took a deep breath and told her everything you had been going through.

"I understand how you feel," your sister responded. "But remember, you can’t control what people do. You have to focus on yourself. That’s why you went all the way to Korea."

You weren’t sure if you felt better after the call, but at least you had a different perspective. You decided to go outside for a bit, get some fresh air, and clear your mind.

As you left your room and walked down the hallway, you ran into Minho. He was standing there as if he had been waiting to see you at that moment. You looked at him and, without being able to help it, frowned.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to control your tone, but your frustration was already evident.

As you walked toward the building’s corner, you heard footsteps. You looked up, and to your surprise, you came face to face with Minho.

"Seriously?" you said, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. You didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to deal with him again, but there he was.

Minho looked at you with a cynical smile, almost as if he had been expecting this to happen.

"What’s wrong, Y/N? Were you hoping I wouldn’t find you here?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Without thinking twice, you immediately responded, showing all your disdain.

"And what do you want now, Minho? Keep making annoying comments and thinking you can tell me what to do?" You were fed up. There was no way you were going to tolerate more of his jokes and condescending attitude.

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly unaffected. His expression was full of arrogance.

"I’m just here to remind you that you’re not as special as you think, Y/N. Sometimes, you need to come down from that cloud you live on. You think you can control everything, but you can’t."

You clenched your fists, struggling to keep your composure. You stepped up to him quickly and gave him a shove, not caring what he thought.

"You know what? I’m so done with you, Minho. You’re full of assumptions, opinions I didn’t even ask for. Do you really think you have the right to talk to me like that? To make me feel like I’m beneath you?" your voice was tense and fierce.

Minho, unfazed by your shove, didn’t move an inch. He stood there, watching you with a mix of irritation and arrogance.

"You have a lot to learn, Y/N. Maybe not everyone is here to please you, did you know that?" he said, stepping closer, his voice laced with disdain.

You glared at him, your eyes burning with anger. You couldn’t believe you were standing there, letting him act like he had control of the situation.

"You know what?" you challenged, your tone sharp. "Enough. Do you still think you’re better than me just because you have some talent and people adore you? Well, don’t be mistaken, Minho—I have my own strengths, and I don’t need your approval."

Minho smirked, unfazed.

"I never said you needed my approval. I’m just making it clear that not everything revolves around you."

Without wanting to hear more, you turned around and walked quickly back to your dorm, leaving Minho behind. There was nothing else to discuss. Every word he said only fueled your hatred toward him. And you weren’t going to stop.

With your heart racing and your stomach in knots, you slammed the door shut as you entered your room, searching for the peace you so desperately needed. Why did Minho have to be like this? What did he want from you? The only thing you knew for sure was that the more you saw him, the more you hated him.

The day of the relay race competition arrived, and the atmosphere was filled with tension. Students lined up on the track, eager to prove their skills, but something was off. Q wasn’t among the runners.

"Where’s Q?" Kitty asked, her voice full of concern as she scanned the empty field. Dae and you looked around too, frowning.

"I don’t know…" Dae replied, glancing around as if expecting him to appear at any moment. "Where is he?!"

You sighed and crossed your arms, looking at the clock that marked the start time of the competition. Something wasn’t right. Q would never miss such an important race. Suddenly, an idea flashed through your mind, like a spark igniting a warning light.

"What if… Jin made him disappear so he couldn’t compete?" you murmured, causing Kitty to react with shock and anger.

"That would make total sense… He was at the bar with him all night, and Jin would totally do something like that, wouldn’t he?" Kitty said, eyeing the competition organizers.

"We can’t let it start, not without Q," Dae said, looking at you with concern. You nodded, already starting to plan a way to interfere.

"We need to act fast," you say with determination, feeling adrenaline rush through your body. Kitty gives you a quick glance before turning toward the track, her mind clearly working at full speed.

"You know what? I have an idea," she suddenly says, her tone filled with excitement. Before you can ask, you see her striding confidently toward a table where an organizer had left a microphone unattended.

Your eyes widen as she grabs it without hesitation and brings it to her mouth.

"Come on, everyone! Let’s cheer for the runners!" she exclaims with exaggerated enthusiasm.

But the silence that follows is deafening. Only a few murmurs ripple through the crowd, and though the discomfort is obvious, Kitty remains unfazed. Instead, she starts jumping, waving her arms as if that alone could ignite energy in the spectators.

"Come on, guys! Get excited, join in!" she insists, but all she gets in return are laughter and a few boos. The organizers, now visibly annoyed, approach her, signaling for her to leave the track.

"No, I’m not leaving!" she shouts, gripping the microphone stubbornly.

You take a deep breath, feeling desperation creeping in. They can't just kick her out, not after everything you've tried.

"I can’t believe I’m about to do this…" you mutter, closing your eyes for a second before moving toward her.

Without giving anyone time to react, you dramatically collapse to the ground.

The impact isn't too strong, but you force yourself to stay still. Instantly, the murmurs grow louder. You hear gasps, whispers of concern spreading through the crowd.

"What’s happening?" someone asks.

You sense Kitty’s presence close by.

"Help! Someone, please!" she shouts, her voice perfectly mimicking panic.

Rushed footsteps approach. You’d recognize that walk anywhere. Before you can react, Minho kneels beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/L/N, are you okay?" he asks, his voice carrying a mix of concern and amusement.

For a moment, you hesitate. Is he actually worried, or is he just enjoying watching you in this situation?

You crack one eye open slightly and murmur in a tired voice, "I’m trying to create a distraction, idiot."

The way he rolls his eyes and frowns almost makes you laugh, but you hold it in. He steps back, crossing his arms, though he doesn’t leave entirely.

Just as you start wondering if the plan is actually working, an eruption of cheers and applause sweeps through the crowd. Q comes sprinting onto the track, his figure instantly recognizable.

You spring to your feet, abandoning all pretense, and a triumphant smile spreads across your face as the students begin chanting his name.

"Q! Q! Q!"

You did it. Q is on the track. The race is about to begin.

But your joy fades quickly as the competition starts. Jin, with his usual confidence, surges ahead effortlessly, and even though Q gives it his all, it’s not enough. Jin crosses the finish line first, raising the trophy with his signature smug grin.

Your jaw tightens. After all that effort… Jin is still the winner.

"That was painful to watch," Dae comments with a nervous laugh beside you.

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation.

"At least we tried," Kitty says, giving you a knowing smile.

You nod slowly, because even though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, at least you did everything you could. And deep down, you know this isn’t over yet.

tags ; @snowyblossomsx @awhrin @rkivesfilm @dangelnleif

[kesujo]

If you were to have cosplay sex with your idol girlfriend, which idol would you think would look best in the following costumes?

Police

Student

Professor

Witch

Superhero

Cheerleader

Princess

Comics, game characters

Bikini

Nude

For the sake of not being too boring and answering 'Taeyeon' for all of them, imma try to diversify a bit here (although I may still end up going with Taeyeon for more than one :p) Also, this is more gonna be of a 'who I think of first for __' or 'who do I think suits a __ kind of look the best' :D

Police

I think this one is pretty easy since IU, I think, is (or was) an honorary police officer

2. Student Sana seems like she'd be a delight to teach. What a cutie pie

Look at her.

Yep. Looking at her. Looking at her ... wait what?

Oh, also, shoutout to Taeyeon too

And ofc her in her 'Letter to Myself' MV and photoshoot/jacket shoot/whatever they're called

(how to be that cushion, anyone know?)

3. Professor Speaking of Taeyeon (sorry, but you asked me, the Taeyeon-biased guy, so you should've figured that I'd answer Taeyeon for a few of these, even if I said I'd try not to at the beginning of this post)

Yep.

Yep yep. Help, my mind is going fried with all sorts of ideas of principal/professor Taeyeon ... I can't start any more drafts than I already have...

4. Witch First thing that comes to mind for 'witch': Red Velvet. Probably influence of 'Really Bad Boy' and/or 'Peekaboo' or something. Of those, I feel like Irene would suit the 'witch' vibes

(this was the closest thing I could find to 'Witch Irene' LMAO) (Irene didn't really look like a witch in RBB, really, so ... yeah. Lemme konw if you got something better and I'll update this :D)

5. Superhero

First thing I thought of for 'Superhero' is Super Yuppers from Chocome, and Yeoreum is my fav amongst them, so it's Yorm :D (also, have a yorm draft, but unsure when it's gonna come out)

6. Cheerleader

Somehow, first thing I thought of was this outfit from Amazing Saturday and not SNSD's cheerleader outfits from 'Oh!' Speaking of that, though, Tiffany looked the best in their cheerleader outfits for 'Oh!' imo

7. Princess First person I thought of for this one is Yuna

idk why tbh, I just feel like Yuna fits the 'princess' vibe the best, you know? And this is coming from someone who barely knows ITZY, really. Perhaps that's just the power of Yuna...

8. Comics, game characters For this one, I figure I should choose someone who is also known for good acting, and I think Seohyun has been praised for her acting before. Also, here's her as Maelficent:

and her as a cute vampire:

(IU was chosen for the police officer one, which is why I didn't choose her for this one) (Also, I still have yet to watch anything SNSD has acted in, or any kdrama that isn't 'Goblin', for that matter xD) Don't let those outfits deceive you, she got the body to pull off curvier characters too...

9. Bikini As you may have surmised, I tend to follow the SM girl groups quite a bit, and there's no other real rhyme of reason behind any of the other groups I pay attention to. So, on that note:

And then, obviously...

Yeah, nuff said, really.

10. Nude So ... uh, not sure what kinda, like, outfit or cosplay or something 'nude' is, I'm guessing this is more or less 'who do you think looks best nude' or something?

One answer:

Not biased at all

Not in the slightest

...Yeah...

(btw holy FK this pose...)

Also have some cute Taeyeon (that's still showing off her assets) :D

And who can forgot this legendary outfit

Not me, that's who. AND ALSO, Taeyeon showing off her ass for no reason:

And some candids of that LV outfit

Those lil slits on the slide, perfect for sliding your hands in and grabbing a handful of them titties

And,

STEP ON ME MOMMY

Ahem, sorry about that.

Yeah. Not biased btw.

:)

[xechu]

a/n: A bit of a long post, but I thought I'd share some character notes I have of Sukuna from my au 'Cross My Heart'. I don't foresee myself writing anything that is related to Sukuna's past before him meeting reader, which is why I thought it would be nice to release some notes just to give him some more depth. This will have some little fun facts about Jin as well since they're twins. As you might be able to tell, I'm a bit invested in this au right now. But I am trying to work on my other fics, so you might not see anything else come out for CMH this upcoming week. x

tw: 18+ mdni, suggestive themes, mature themes, complicated family dynamics, death

cmh!sukuna - growing up & teen years

Their mother has always been out of the picture so it was just Wasuke, Jin, and Sukuna. Wasuke never mentioned much about their mother, it always seemed to be a sore topic. All they know is she's no longer alive.

Sukuna had always been kind of troubled as a kid and well into his teens. Finance has been tight growing up, so Jin and Sukuna had to work odd jobs since they were 13 until they were of legal working age, which then they would be on an actual payroll working minimum wage jobs.

Uraume knew both Jin and Sukuna since elementary school, but they have always been a little closer with Sukuna. They didn't attend the same high school as they attended another school in a different district, but they were still in contact with Sukuna.

In high school, Jin was the nerd, and Sukuna was just an edgelord that all the girls found very mysterious and alluring. Sukuna's height skyrocketed during this time as well, so he just naturally stood out. He was popular not because he aspired or tried to be - it just happened.

Given his physique, some teachers would also try to recruit him into sport teams, but Sukuna said no, because he had to work part-time after school.

Jin and Sukuna never talked to each other much. Even though they were in the same high school. People didn't even realize they were related because of how different they looked, until graduation when some students saw them taking pictures together with Wasuke.

Sukuna looks a lot like Wasuke, and Jin looks a lot like their mother.

There was a bit of resentment between the two brothers growing up, because Sukuna thought Jin was spineless, whereas Jin thought Sukuna was selfish.

To be honest, both Sukuna and Jin had a difficult time expressing their thoughts and feelings because Wasuke was pretty harsh on the boys growing up, but he also had a lot on his plate as a single father. Given Wasuke's curt nature, he didn't really know how to nurture children and did only what he thought was right.

Sukuna was easily agitated and explosive, versus Jin who bottled everything up and could be a bit reclused when things got too overwhelming.

Kaori and Jin were high school sweethearts. They met in the debate club during Jin's sophomore year. Kaori is one year older than Jin. Jin was not the argumentative type, but he decided to step out of his comfort zone, and try something new. Seeing how Jin is now, it's hard to believe he was incredibly shy in high school. Kaori had a lot to do with him being more expressive with his feelings and really getting him out of his shell.

cmh!sukuna - college days

Left home shortly after high school graduation. He got into a huge fight with Wasuke, because Sukuna wanted to go into trades instead of university. Jin was accepted into a prestigious ivy league university on full scholarship.

Wasuke had found Sukuna's acceptance letter to the same university in the bin, after Sukuna lied and said he didn't get accepted. Wasuke went into an explosive fit - he couldn't understand why his son was settling for 'less' and told him with that mentality he will amount to nothing.

Though Sukuna left home at 18 and seemingly hated his brother, he never changed his telephone number just in case one day Jin needed him.

College was when Sukuna really began to let loose and felt the full experience of freedom.

Lost his virginity to some random TA in his college, he couldn't even remember her name or face, until she approached him one day out of the blue and thought she was pregnant. They went to a health clinic and it turned out to be a false alarm. The TA wanted to continue the relationship on the down-low, but Sukuna dropped it.

Sukuna met Yorozu during his first year of college. Her band was prepping for a college event - they did a cover of ‘Smile Like You Mean It’ by The Killers, which initially piqued Sukuna’s interest

Yorozu and Sukuna hit it off quite well, it had a lot to do with their approach to life, and to be honest they were both kind of troubled at the time.

Toji and Shiu came into the picture shortly after, they met Yorozu during an elective course they all shared, and somehow the four of them all came together as a group even though they were from vastly different fields of studies. Toji and Shiu have known each other for a long time.

Yorozu's area of study - music (4 year), Shiu's area of study - international business (4 year), Toji's area of study - exercise science (3 year), Sukuna's area of study - automotive technician (apprenticeship program, 2 years)

cmh!sukuna - 20's, up to when he went to jail

When Sukuna was 21, he received a phone call from Jin. Wasuke passed away very abruptly. He came home from work one night and said that he had a headache, went to bed early and never woke up.

After going through Wasuke's stuff, they accidentally broke one of Wasuke's picture frames. The framed photo was from their high school graduation. Sukuna never saw the photo before, but Wasuke wore a big smile, one that Sukuna had never seen growing up. And when he looked closely, he could see that his father's gaze was actually on him in that photo.

On the back of the photo, Wasuke wrote a note to his late wife. "They grew up well. I tried my best though it would have been better if you were around, but they still managed to pave a path for themselves despite my shortcomings as their father. Jin is very much like you, while Ryomen reminds me much of myself. They are truly both our children. I am proud of them. I miss you, but the three of us are doing fine."

That revelation with the photo really fucked Sukuna up. That's when he also patched things up with Jin.

Jin graduated at 22 from an ivy league business school, and had this ambition of becoming an entrepreneur. At this point, Sukuna had already been working as a full-time mechanic for two years. Jin approached Sukuna with the idea and that's when they kickstarted their garage business.

The first year was quite difficult, but then afterwards it started picking up, eventually by their fifth year, business was booming. Jin was able to get married to Kaori, and bought a house to start their family. Sukuna bought two condos, and continued living his life of work hard, play hard, and just enjoying a commitment-free life.

Patching up his relationship with Jin and starting a business really saved Sukuna's life - and that's why he has so much respect for Jin and the business. It definitely curbed down his edginess and he felt less troubled, but he's far from a saint and knows there's still a lot he needs to work on.

A few months later, the altercation with the bad business deal happened and Sukuna went to jail for two and a half years.

Toji, Shiu, and Yorozu would occasionally visit him in jail

Jin and Kaori would visit Sukuna too, but Sukuna was the one to tell Jin and Kaori not to visit when they found out she was pregnant. "Don't worry about me, take care of the kid. I don't want a pregnant woman coming in and out of jail like that. I'll see you both and the kid when I'm out."

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

[implicitlyaster]

Delulu follow up

(Long ramble about voice lines below the cut)

Black vhs tape (the one where Harley wakes up) quote that always stuck out to me is "my head.. It feels like it's split in two..."

Like,, why not just say "ough.. My head.." and continue speaking (or to go with his confusion "my head.. What have you done...")

Are you picking up what I'm putting down???

Additionally, in the beginning he was just organs and wires and existed within the big computer setup with his brain

But by the Hour Of Joy he's controlling everything within the Prison area (says so to the Warden and gets the omni hand)

And then there are the many bots. The scientists wouldn't make them for him, so it must've been done with Prototype's help.

Then why is Harley limited to the Prison? Why not link him with the entirety of the Playtime factory? Clearly, 1006 doesn't trust the doc enough to give him such control.

But Harley has the omnihand, multiple wireless robots and- and still has NOT hooked himself up to the main system? Seems to me like Prototype and him have a deal that stops him from doing so

But cOME ONNN you're telling me an already paranoid man (his "adoption" of Yarnaby) who was stabbed in the back by his co-workers before (and oh what a backstab it was) didn't make any failsafes?

Back to the voicelines, what was "You understand the futility of this, don't you? Meat rots and loses it's function. It's as replaceable as anything else." about? He didn't want to be turned into what he is, now he's talking it's oh so great? (Also also, the usual way of talking about physical bodies is using the word "flesh", not "meat"; And we know he uses/knows common phrases and sayings as demonstrated by the usage "for whom the bell tolls")

Then again, "I'll bury myself so far down that no one will ever find me, not you, not the prototype, not anyone!" Implies he hasn't done it yet :(

WAIT HOW DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE LETTER THAT BROUGHT THIS RANDOM EMPLOYEE TO THE FACTORY LIKE I KNOW THE THEORY IS PROTOTYPE SENT THE LETTER BUT IT WORKS ABOVE WHY WOULD IT MENTION THIS IF IT DOESN'T TRUST THE DOCTOR-

Poppy ch4 spoilers

This can't be all we get of Harvey Sawyer, like, I /need/ more

He was so hyped up both in the trailers, arg and the characters in game and all he gets is a puzzle and an okay bossfight?

Positive note though, the voice acting slaps, the way I keep replaying different playthroughs (the "White? Is thAT YOUU?!" gets me every time,,,, the usually clinically calm doctor only ever showing distaste or hatred emoting surprise this strongly-) and enjoying the reactions it gets out of the gamers >>>

Tldr I need him to return

I might even be delulu enough to write sth on how I'd imagine his return, another on what I would WANT to happen, maybe some shippy stuff

[daeum]

but for real though, i truly hope everyone finds peace with themselves this year. life is already difficult enough as it is, and we're continuously bombarded with bad luck and misfortune despite our efforts.

i hope with each passing year, you allow yourself to let go of any burdens and not blame yourself for things beyond your control.

sometimes—actually, a majority of the time—life doesn't go the way you plan, and the sense of guilt and futility will swallow you whole. but when that time comes, pat yourself on the back and tell yourself, "you're a decent person. you've done well. thanks so much for enduring."

it'll be ok.

[passthroughtime]

i hope you don’t mind me not participating in sunday six for so long and not updating my fic... i’m having a bit rough time handling my life irl right now

[gethoce]

ALRIGHT time for Anat's turn!! :>

1: If your partner could only eat one food for the rest of their life, what would it be?

Anat grabs a chalk board and leans back far, staring at the ceiling for a moment, eyes squinting as she's thinking. “Wine doesn't count, huh? Guess that's more of a drink unless you freeze it…”

She taps her cheek with the chalk while pondering her options, leaving behind a white trail. Then she finally writes something down and holds the board up. It says “CHEESE” in big letters. She tilts the board a little to look at it while explaining her reasoning.

“Honestly, I've only seen her eat once and from the things I saw her eat this would be the funniest in combination with wine. Also it has the same color as me. Anyway.” She then wipes the word away with her sleeve.

2: Who has the better sense of fashion?

Narrowing her eyes she stares into a distance for a moment. “Well, I, for one, think I'm very stylish! Buuuut I guess she put a lot of effort into maintaining that appearance she has. She got the polished armor, the cape and everything, it's very ferocious looking while also fancy…” She writes “LRK” on the board and holds it up for a moment, nonchalantly while murmuring to herself. “My belt of severed hands is stylish as fuck… also my cool as hell sea shell pauldron is a looker.”

3: Who would win in a battle?

“HAL…” For a moment she looks away, eyes wide open contemplating the consequences of her actions. “She seems like a formidable opponent, to say the least, but is she Anat levels of strong? I'd like to think I could wipe the floor with just about anyone. Have you seen what I did to the former DEVA of death?” She writes “ME” on the board and holds it up for a moment before erasing it again.

4: You get a new pet that you love, but your partner doesn’t. What kind of animal is it?

“I used to have a pet spinosaurus… I feel like she might not vibe with that? Most people seemed taken aback. Maybe she would get used to the spino but could she love it…” Letting out a huff she shakes her head in dismay, doodling a spinosaurus on the board which seems to be quite proportional.

5: Where would you take your partner for a vacation?

With her arms crossed she leans forward onto the table before her. “She does live in a snowy wasteland, so something warm would be a nice contrast. Perhaps Raisin Ruins to show her some history where there actually are remnants of my past left.” She rubs her chin with one hand pondering, then begins writing down Raisin Ruins on the board.

“I'd prefer my actual previous home in Dreamland, but couldn't find a single remnant of my past. There is a palace on Mount Lel like there used to be, but it's some place called Castle Dedede and not my father's palace??” She flicks a hand in disbelief, a bit of a grimace forming in her face.

“Anyway, Raisin Ruins is also better because there are less people. She seems to prefer not having too many eyes on her and I'd want to respect that. Hope she can handle the desert though.”

6: Which video game do you always beat your partner at?

“Heh…” A brief chuckle escapes her. Then she writes the word SMASH on the board. “While I have watched the Meta-Knights play their games, I've never played any myself. Though I'd imagine I'd be pretty good in that ‘Smash’ game. For some reason my brother is a playable character and his underlings always play as him?? Naturally his sword, an aspect of me, is in the game as well and I'd like to think that means I’d be fantastic at playing the game!” Confidentally she nods with her arms crossed and a big smile on her face.

7: Which Copy Ability would best describe your relationship?

“Our relationship? I quite literally am the sword ability, yet that would only represent me… I'd almost say fire for passion but that ability belongs to my ex. For me and Lady Radiant I'd like to propose a mixture… like Bluster Sword. She seems to have control over the wind at least to a degree…” She doodles a fancy sword and draws some tornado swirls around it to represent the wind. It looks quite goofy.

8: You have to make breakfast for your partner. What are you cooking?

“Ehehe… That one is… I'm not known to be great at cooking. I'd have to go for something easy…” Looking into the distance she frowns. This one is quite difficult for her to figure out. “Eggs.. wait, would that be weird because she is like half bird? But she doesn't like the bird side… let's have her have some boiled eggs, then. I think I can manage that. Also some buns and stuff. Easy but tasty.” With her tongue held out to the side she draws a bird and crosses it out, then doodles some eggs and ovals that are probably supposed to be buns.

9: What’s the best gift your partner ever gave you?

“Uuuh… We only had one date so far but she brought her own wine so that was pretty damn cool! Let's see how far we can take it from here in the future.” This time she drew a bottle, nodding at her artistic masterpiece. Then she leans forward, whispering. “You think she'd enjoy the torn out and still beating heart of a dragon as a gift? That's my favorite go to.” In the background her brother shakes his head disapprovingly.

10: What’s something you started doing because of your partner?

She taps the board with the chalk for a moment, then sketches a poorly drawn feathery wing. “Well she got me to appreciate feathery wings. Never gave them much thought before since they seem like a ton of work and just soft fluffy stuff, but she has proven that they can actually be quite deadly! Still, I'd rather stick to my dragon wings.” She stretches out her wings, flapping them a little before folding them back once again.

Muchadoo is hosting a romance-themed game show called Dream Date, and new contestants are invited! Kirby ship couples (including AU and OC characters) are invited to see how well they know their partners!

While the game is heavily romance themed, the questions are meant to work for platonic couples as well!

The rules are simple: it’s just the Newlywed game. Both players are presented with the same question regarding their partner, and each one must write the answer they think is correct. After both partners have written their answers, they reveal them, and we see just how right they are!

Here are some questions the couples might be asked:

If your partner could only eat one food for the rest of their life, what would it be?

Who has the better sense of fashion?

Who would win in a battle?

You get a new pet that you love, but your partner doesn’t. What kind of animal is it?

Where would you take your partner for a vacation?

Which video game do you always beat your partner at?

Which Copy Ability would best describe your relationship?

You have to make breakfast for your partner. What are you cooking?

What’s the best gift your partner ever gave you?

What’s something you started doing because of your partner?

There are no planned win conditions for this event, nor are there prizes; the point of this event is to simply provide a fun set of prompts for character couples/partnerships to answer in drawing or writing form! Just reblog this post adding your characters answering the questions, have fun, and have a happy Valentine’s Day!

[izzy-b-hands]

If I don't find a new job before September, it's gonna be 9 straight weeks of polls starting in September, every weekend of September and October (including the weekend of Housemate's bday, and the weekend leading up to Election Day)

In addition, no cancels or sick days will be allowed for that period of time. Any cancels or sick call outs will result in disciplinary actions up to a fast tracked firing (to be fair they didn't say this exactly, but the Implication in this part of the email is quite strong lmao.)

Anyone wanna hire me on to do literally anything? Dig holes? Clean your house? Shine your shoes? Feed your cat/dog/fish/cow/etc? Stare at a pot of boiling water for your dinner? Paint your living room then stand there and watch the paint dry then repaint it a different colour and watch it dry again? Anything at all, anything you want, anything-

[kyungsein]

can't post about orv anymore

have too much to say and nothing to say at the same time which results in me shutting down

awful absolutely awful, 0 stars

[enbyboiwonder]

wtf is with Duo’s ugly-ass new app icon? Do they think they can guilt people into using it that way, or something? Their guilt-inducing push notifications don’t even work—in fact, they do the opposite. All this did was finally get me to delete it; I haven’t touched it in forever.

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.

[yanderedrabbles]

Letters from a Yandere Vampire

December 7th, 1886

Dear y/n,

Please do not think me presumptuous for writing to you so soon, but my heart would give me no rest. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since our encounter at the Duke's soiree.

Perhaps it is my countenance or perhaps my foreign heritage, but London's débutantes seem to find me positively frightful. I had resigned myself to yet another evening of disappointment when you introduced yourself to me.

In all my travels, I have met few ladies with your boldness of spirit. You transformed my dour evening into one of unimaginable enjoyment.

I have included with my letter some pressed flowers from my native Transylvania. You expressed much interest in the botany of my homeland and I hope these will intrigue you.

Your interest in my travels is remarkably flattering. And, if I may be so bold, may I invite you to a dinner at my salon? I have much still to share.

Yours sincerely,

Count Nicolae Drăculești

December 17th, 1886

My dearest y/n,

How I enjoyed our evening together! When we danced, I felt my soul set afire. In my travels, none have so captivated me.

Do not think me hasty, but I have sent my messenger with a gift. I can think of no better place for these jewels than around your neck. Please, accept them with my most sincere compliments.

You amused me very much when you pointed out my teeth. My fangs are indeed much longer and sharper than a normal man's. Perhaps you wish to feel their sharpness against your skin?

The nights grow longer and colder. Do you dislike the winter darkness, I wonder. Or do you only long for someone to share it with, as I do?

Ah, forgive my rambling! I'm writing to ask if you will allow me the privilege of escorting you to the Yuletide ball? I can think of no finer gift to celebrate Christmas.

I must soon depart for my home and I insist on spending more time together before then.

Yours,

Nicolae Drăculești

December 25th, 1886

My love,

Merry Christmas! I walked through the untouched snow and even London seemed beautiful and pure.

In this cold, I can think of nothing but having you with me. A day without you is an eternity past.

It seems I have been waiting for you for centuries. Is it to bold to say you are the woman of my dreams? Forgive this fool his insolence, but when I write to you I feel possessed.

You have asked me at length about my aversion to the Church and silver. You are such a logical creature but there are some things beyond the realm of science.

Seek to know no more, for both our sakes.

Another matter has been bothering me of late. I have noticed Lord Lancaster has expressed an interest in you.

The man fawns over you like a slobering hound. As your companion, it is my duty to advise against him. He is unworthy of your attention, much less your sympathy. 

Surely you see that it is you and I that are the more compatible match?

Ever yours,

Nicușor

January 1st, 1887

Dear,

I wished to keep you ignorant of my nature. And yet, you have seen me unmasked. A creature of the night.

It was your blood that did it. A single drop was all it took for my instinct to take over.

I hope you are unhurt. If I were in my right mind, I never would have pinned you against the wall as I did. I never would have forced my kiss upon you.

I could hear your heart racing when I showed you my fangs. Why did you not scream?

Did I fighten you into silence? Or was it something else?

You asked me what you are to me and at the time I had no answer to give. Are you my prey? My meal?

I have spent all night in thought and still I fear uttering these words.

You are my beloved.

My heart belongs entirely to you, wretched and sinful though it may be. No blood is sweeter than yours.

I burn for you, my darling.

I grow agitated at each day that passes when we are not together. My treacherous mind plays such awful tricks on me. Surely you have not cast me aside for another? Or worse, have I frightened you beyond redemption?

Oh, banish the thought! Who has your affection? Your love?

Please, put my poor heart at ease. Meet me in the gazebo at the end of your garden after sunset.

I cannot bear to be parted from you much longer.

Ever your slave,

Nicușor

y/n,

My castle must be prepared for your arrival and I have set forth with great haste to do so. In case you awake before my return, I've left you this letter.

You are currently on board a private train car bound for Transylvania. Do not attempt to leave. My guards have strict orders to ensure you reach home.

You are changed, my dear.

I have bitten you and transformed you into a creature like myself. Upon our final meeting, I intended only to say goodbye. You are too fine and beautiful a creature to be wasted on the likes of me.

But when I saw you in the moonlight, I could not help myself.

You are so beautiful. So bright and lively. You are what my cold halls have lacked all these many years.

My love, I drank your blood. Every drop of it. Nothing in my centuries of existence has ever tasted so sweet, so right.

It can be frightening, I know. But do not despair.

The light of the sun will forever be out of reach, but there are a thousand traits you've gained. Strength. Speed. Immortality.

The grave will never taste your flesh, old age will never hound at your door.

As I am the one who changed you, I am also your Lord and Master. The bond between us is forged in blood. Wherever I go, you must always follow. If I am to die, so shall you. If I am to command, you must obey.

It is a tight leash and not one of my devising, I assure you.

I intend to be your partner and not your Lord. So for both our sakes, my love, do not give me cause to use that power.

You and I have all eternity together. Does it please you as it does me?

I have longed for a bride for centuries. You cannot imagine the loneliness. And in all those years, none have impressed themselves upon my heart as you have.

I have stolen you from the sunshine and into my world of night and blood. I have ripped away any hope of heaven and salvation. No God now, no church or altar.

I am a rogue and a thief and still I beg of you. Please love, do not hate me.

I've made you into my vampire bride.

Your husband,

Nicușor Drăculești

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for @itoshiluvbot. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[choerrypuffs]

red velvet hearts.

pairing: bad boy!donghyuck x baker!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.7k

synopsis: you patch up a boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles, only to find out that he has quite the sweet tooth.

author’s note: why do i keep injuring hyuck in all my fics lmao??? anyways i tried to write his character a bit differently than i usually do to challenge myself so please let me know how you guys like it! also remember, ladies: this is fiction. you cannot fix him <3

warning(s): brief description of injuries, mentions of violence, maximum amounts of cringe and melodrama

playlist: all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine ― heart eyes by coin ― close to you by gracie abrams ― sidelines by phoebe bridgers ― the alchemy by taylor swift

RECIPE 1. TIRAMISU

“This is not what I meant when I said you need your back blown out.” 

“Not funny. I almost died,” you grumble as you wrap the back brace around your torso. You hate the immediate relief you feel from the support it provides, no longer able to tell yourself that it’s really not as bad as it seems―which only makes you angrier. 

“Throwing your back out while lifting a giant bag of flour and nearly getting crushed to death by said flour is genuinely the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Yeri, your best friend (derogatory), snorts as she shakes her head. “I wish you had cameras in the storage room because I want to see that shit so bad.”

“Thank you for the brace. You can get the hell out now.” You roll your eyes. 

“So, what are you going to do now? Aren’t you swamped with orders?” Yeri asks, ignoring you completely. 

You have no clue what you’re going to do now. It isn’t just orders you have to worry about fulfilling; it’s also the freshly baked pastries that you have to sell every morning. After a year of blood, sweat, and tears, the bakery that you built from the ground up is finally starting to gain some stable business. So, of course, you chose now of all times to try to lift a bag of flour over your shoulder like you were Dwayne The Rock Johnson. 

“I think I’ll have to hire some temporary help,” you answer begrudgingly. 

“You could sound less like someone is holding you at gunpoint,” Yeri snorts, “Come on. It had to happen sooner or later anyway.” 

“I was handling things just fine on my own.”

“Were you, though?” Yeri raises an eyebrow, gesturing to your current state. 

You fear you walked right into that one. “Shut up and help me make some posters.” 

The two of you eventually manage to whip up some haphazard “Help Wanted” posters, the letters written in glitter pen and Yeri’s clumsy bubble text. You tried your best to fill in the empty gaps on the construction paper by placing Pompompurin stickers that you normally give to customers’ kids all over it. The posters look like a nine-year-old girl’s school project gone wrong, but you hope it’s charming enough to catch some attention. 

By the time you and Yeri finish hanging up all the posters, the sun is already starting to set, and all you want to do is go home and put a heating pad on your back. After saying bye to Yeri, you start making your way back to the bakery to lock up. Once you arrive, you notice a figure dressed in black slumped over in front of the door. You can see their shoulders rise up and down as they take in labored breaths, leaning against the glass door for support. 

Every rational fiber in your being screams at you to not approach the stranger alone, but it’s not like you can just leave this person at the front of your place of business. Cautiously taking a step forward, you squat down to eye level with the stranger, wincing slightly from back pain. Through the sweaty and matted mess of his brown fringe, you can see that the stranger is a young man around your age. However, his face is absolutely battered: bloody (and almost certainly broken) nose, split lip, black eye swollen shut, and a jagged cut on his cheek. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t show it, keeping his head hung down.

Gingerly placing a hand on his arm, you give him a small shake. “Excuse me? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” 

His brows furrow, and he opens an eye (the only one he’s probably able to open) with a wince before lifting a finger and putting it against his lips. You notice that his knuckles are completely scraped raw. 

“Not so loud. I’m okay,” he answers. 

“You don’t look―” 

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles with a guttural growl that slowly drawls into a sputtering gurgle before dying out all together―leaving a long silence to hang between the two of you.

After another beat, he gives you a sheepish smile. “You got anything to eat?” 

You stare at him for a moment; his face is flushed, pink all the way down to his neck. 

And like a stupid horror movie character who opens the door to a room that clearly screams danger, you nod. 

.

.

.

Fortunately, he―Donghyuck, as he introduced himself―ends up not being a crazy ax murderer. 

Unfortunately, you find yourself awkwardly sitting in your closed bakery with a virtual stranger, fiddling with a first aid kit while watching him absolutely devour a piece of leftover tiramisu that you had in your fridge. If the situation wasn’t so insane, you might actually think it was pretty funny. For someone who looks the way he does, this current picture of Donghyuck absolutely doesn’t suit him―bruised chipmunk cheeks stuffed with ladyfingers and cocoa powder stuck on his split lip. 

When he’s finished, Donghyuck looks over at you with a mesmerized expression on his face, as if you just fed him ambrosia. There’s a softness to his face that you didn’t think could exist underneath all that grime and dried blood. 

“That was…delicious,” he breathes. 

“Thanks,” you snort, pushing a glass of water towards him. Unsurprisingly, he chugs it in the blink of an eye. “I still think you should get those injuries checked out, though.” 

“Nah, I’ll rub a little spit in them and it’ll be fine,” he shrugs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you sigh, scooting your chair closer to him as you set the first aid kit on the table. “Now, come here.” 

Donghyuck reluctantly dips his head, and you carefully cup his jaw for support, disinfecting and applying ointment on the cuts and scrapes on his face. You also clean up the dried blood near his nostrils and on his bottom lip, and he doesn’t flinch even when you accidentally brush tender areas like his broken nose or the gash on his mouth. Instead, he stays perfectly still, leaned back in the chair with his forearms resting on his thighs and fingers nonchalantly laced together. 

He keeps his gaze trained on something past your shoulder, and you also try your best to focus, but it’s hard to keep yourself from staring―especially when his demeanor has changed so much. He’s so calm and quiet in such a cold, ruthless manner, as if he’s physically steeling himself from pain―like he’s done this a million times before. Occasionally, you feel his eyes swipe across your face when he thinks you’re not paying attention, and it occurs to you how close the two of you are. Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the heat of his skin against your palm and fingertips, and you rip your hand away from his jaw. 

Clearing your throat, you move onto his hands, dabbing his raw knuckles with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol before placing large band-aids on them. Despite your best efforts, it’s hard not to notice how slim his long fingers are or how surprisingly clean his nail beds are for someone who’s covered in blood. You keep your head completely bent, fighting the urge of looking up and possibly meeting his eyes. 

“There, all done,” you announce a little too loudly. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for the cake and for this. For helping me.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t do much,” you blurt, still avoiding eye contact as you clean up the table. However, you notice in your peripheral that his gaze follows your movements, almost hesitantly, before he asks: 

“So, you’re hiring?” 

You click the first-aid kit shut, blinking a few times before turning back to him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I―yeah. How did you know that?” you ask, puzzled by such a random question. 

Donghyuck points at a poster that you didn’t even know you left here, sitting on the table right behind you. You realize that he was probably looking at it while you were patching him up. 

“That poster that says ‘help wanted.’ With the Pompompurin stickers. I’m actually in between jobs right now, so if you would have me―”

“You know Pompompurin?” you interrupt him. It’s not that important and should not stand out to you as much as it does. Yet, you can’t help but grin at the fact that someone like him knows about a tubby Golden Retriever character with a name that sounds like a mashup of the English language’s most adorable onomatopeias. 

Donghyuck trails off, stiffening as if you just found out his deepest, darkest secret. He opens his mouth slightly, trying to speak but unable to formulate a response―an excuse, rather. Instead, he just lets out an airy cough, putting a hand over his mouth and turning away from you in an attempt to obscure his face. Despite his best efforts, he can’t hide his glowing red ears and the way his earlier coldness melts away.

“I―yeah,” he responds, words slightly muffled by his hand. 

You struggle to maintain your composure as you gnaw on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. Fighting a smile in your voice, you finally say: 

“The pay won’t be that much, but you’ll get a bunch of free desserts at the end of the day. Are you okay with that?” 

It takes him a moment to process that you’re offering him the job, and you watch his eyes light up and a warm smile overtake his face. There’s still a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks, clashing with the purple bruising and swelling of his injuries. 

“I’d love nothing more.”

Suddenly, it occurs to you that Donghyuck somewhat reminds you of a tiramisu. 

He may look a bit rugged and grimey, bitter like coffee, but in actuality, underneath it all, he’s soft and fluffy (but not too sweet) like a mascarpone filling. 

RECIPE 2. BLUEBERRY PIE

“Are you out of your mind?”

You cringe away from your phone, hurriedly turning the volume down. “Damn, you don’t have to scream like that.” 

“You should be the one screaming,” Yeri hollers. “I better not come over one day and find your body stuffed in the freezer or something.”

“I thought you wanted me to hire someone!” 

“Not some random dude off the side of the street who was covered in injuries and doesn’t even have any baking experience,” Yeri hisses. 

“I don’t need him to bake. I just have him working the front counter and doing all the heavy lifting when I get my ingredient shipments,” you protest. “Did you think I would really just hand over all my orders to some random dude and go party it up in Cancún or something?” 

Yeri is silent for several seconds before asking, “He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“What?”

“So you did know what I meant when I said you needed your back blown out.” You can hear the smugness in her voice. 

“Yeri,” you say tiredly, “please be serious.”

“I am serious. You’re the one being unserious,” she retorts. “Yesterday, you acted like you would rather sacrifice your firstborn child before hiring a part-timer, and now look at you. Dickmatized.” 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”

“So, when do I get to meet him―”

You quickly hit the button to end the call and shove your phone into your pocket, letting out an exasperated sigh. You definitely won’t be hearing the end of that for a while. Your face feels warm for some reason, and you decide that you need a coffee break. After you finish making it, you pour yourself and Donghyuck a cup. 

You peek your head out from the curtain that separates the kitchen and the front counter to see if Donghyuck is busy. He’s politely chatting with an elderly woman, and your eyes nearly pop out of your head when he takes out the entire tray of egg tarts in the glass display and wraps it up for her. The woman happily hands him a wad of bills and waves him goodbye. After putting the cash in the register, Donghyuck turns around and catches you in the middle of gawking. 

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually just about to head back there. We’re out of egg tarts for the display,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you whisper loudly, “Was that Mrs. Kim? Why the hell did she order a dozen egg tarts? That woman can barely finish a single cookie.” 

Donghyuck blinks, clearly confused, whispering back, “She asked for my recommendation, so I said egg tarts since no one had bought any yet, and she said she would take all of them.” 

You pause, things finally clicking. Grinning knowingly, you say, “You know, having you work the front is doing wonders for sales.” 

“I don’t understand.” He furrows his brows. 

You laugh, handing him his cup of coffee. “I’m talking about your face card, Donghyuck. You’re too handsome, so you’re flustering the customers.” 

“Are we not whispering anymore?” he asks awkwardly. “Besides, that’s not true. Look at the state of my face right now.” 

His injuries have faded significantly, but the bruising and cuts are still there. You want to tell him that superficial wounds can’t mask the warmth in his caramel-brown eyes, the fullness of his cheeks and the sharp jawline, and the air of mystery that enshrouds him and draws people in. 

But you don’t. 

“Well, for someone who’s only been working here for two weeks, you’re doing superb. Injuries or not.” 

And it’s true. You’ve always preferred to work alone because you’re the only one who understands how you want things done. You naturally assumed it would be a hassle and a waste of time to try to explain to someone else when you could just do it yourself, but Donghyuck never seems to need an explanation. In fact, he knows before even you. 

He gets to the bakery three hours before you, cleans and preps all the equipment you need for the day, unloads the ingredient shipments, and is already manning the front counter by the time you arrive like it was no big deal at all. He also seems to have a sixth sense of knowing when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t be, even though you downplayed your back injury. He’s somehow always there―moving all the stuff you keep on the top shelf to somewhere within your reach even though you insisted that the rickety wooden step stool you use is perfectly safe, cleaning up a glass beaker that you accidentally shattered, taking out the trash during his breaks, checking in on you when you skip lunch. He even turned down his first paycheck, saying it’s repayment for patching him up and feeding him. 

Donghyuck is so perfect that sometimes you wonder if you’re being set up, like maybe he’s secretly embezzling money from the cash register―which would be a more viable theory if he didn’t drive an Audi to work everyday. 

“Thanks for the compliment. And the coffee,” Donghyuck says, snapping you out of your thoughts. He gingerly takes a sip and makes a strangled noise, a mixture being choking and retching, before slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you okay? Was it too hot?” you ask worriedly. 

“No, it’s just…really bitter,” he mumbles, words muffled in his hand. 

“Oh,” you blink, “Sorry. I drink black coffee, so I forgot to ask if you wanted creamer and sugar. Come on, there’s some in the back.” 

The two of you head to the kitchen, and you watch him dump an exorbitant amount of creamer and sugar in his coffee, the dark roast swirling into something more akin to milk tea.

“You know, there might be some chocolate milk in the fridge if you’d rather that,” you tease. 

His head shoots up, those doe eyes lighting up. “Really?” 

“No,” you trail off awkwardly, “Sorry, I'm just messing with you.” 

It’s a bit adorable that you can visibly see him being disappointed in there not being chocolate milk before growing embarrassed, looking down at his cup. He turns away from you, but you can see the flush on the back of his neck. 

“You really have a sweet tooth, huh?” you laugh. 

“Pretty lame, right?” 

“Why would that be lame? You’re talking to someone who owns a bakery, in case you forgot.” 

Donghyuck smiles at you, and it’s sugary sweet like buttercream frosting. He looks at you like you just said the most wonderful thing in the world; in fact, he always makes you feel like that, no matter what you say or do. “I guess you’re right.” 

“What’s your favorite dessert?” you blurt, needing a distraction urgently. 

He pauses briefly. “I don’t think I have one.”

That actually surprises you. “You don’t? Even though you love sweets so much?” 

He laughs, the sound harsh and rough, and it almost makes you flinch. “I’ve never really had an opportunity to have many until now.” 

There’s clearly weight behind his words, but you know you’re not in a position to ask any further. A selfish part of you wants to be important enough to him that you are in a position to know more, but you’re all too aware about him very purposefully keeping you at arm’s length. 

“Well, you have plenty of time to find out,” you quickly continue, pretending not to notice. “Actually, I’m going to a blueberry farm tomorrow because I’m thinking about adding blueberry pie to the menu. When I get back, I’ll bake one for you, and you can be the first to taste test it!” 

“You’re going by yourself?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course. Who else would I go with?” 

“Me. I’ll go with you,” he replies immediately. 

“But it’s, like, a forty-five-minute bus ride to the farm. Plus, coming with me to get ingredients isn’t part of your job description anyway,” you explain. 

“I can’t come with you on my own free time?” he asks, tilting his head. “Besides, I’m worried about you overexerting yourself with that back injury. A bumpy bus ride definitely isn’t going to help, so I’ll drive us there.” 

“You’re going to drive that fancy ass car to a farm? You do realize it’s going to be dirt roads, right?” You cross your arms. 

“I think I’ll live. Besides, what makes you think this is the only fancy ass car I own?” He gives you an amused smile. 

“You’re joking, right?” You stare at him. 

He hesitates for a moment. “Yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound―”

“What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?” 

“...Seven.”

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, Donghyuck picks you up right on time, not a minute too early or late. As the universe would have it, it rained the night prior―meaning all the dirt roads are now rivers of mud. You wince every time you heard a splat of mud hit Donghyuck’s pristine white car, but he seems to pay no mind to it. The two of you arrive at the farm within twenty minutes (he found a shortcut), and because you came so early, you get the entire farm to yourselves. The staff arms both of you with a large wicker basket each before setting you loose onto the massive property. 

“Okay, make sure to pick the fat ones. The small ones are super tart, so avoid those,” you instruct Donghyuck. “We’re going to fill these baskets to the brim and get our money’s worth.” 

“You got it, Captain.” He salutes. 

You give him a determined nod and a thumbs up before turning to your respective side and beginning to pick the blueberries. The two of you work without much fanfare or conversation, and it’s a silence that lingers between you comfortably. It reassures you to hear the sound of the bushes rustling from Donghyuck working; his companionship alone relaxes you. 

Eventually, when the sun starts peeking through and the weather grows warmer, both of you decide to take a break. You find a spot in the shade before sitting down, pulling out snacks and bottles of water from a backpack Donghyuck brought along. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you tell him, trying to hide a smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He eyes you suspiciously but does so anyway. You fish out a handful of unripe blueberries wrapped in a handkerchief from your pocket and feed some to him. His reaction is nearly instant the moment he starts chewing them; you watch as his face puckers up from how sour they are and his entire body shrivels into itself, a shudder running through him. He’s polite enough to not spit them out, but you’re not polite enough to resist pointing and laughing at him. Throwing your head back, you laugh so hard that your stomach starts to hurt. 

“Oh my God, your face!” 

“Ugh,” Donghyuck groans, taking a big gulp of his water. “I should’ve known you had sinister intentions from the start.” 

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” you finally manage to say after catching your breath. “You really can’t handle anything except for sweet stuff.” 

“Are you having fun bullying me?” He rolls his eyes. 

“So much fun,” you say in a sing-song voice. 

Donghyuck tries to continue feigning annoyance, but he can’t help the low chuckle that rumbles in his chest. His eyes always soften when he looks at you, and his gaze is intimate like a lover’s―gentle, tender, unwavering, and vulnerable. But his warmth is always fleeting, and he only allows you glimpses of it through the unmoving walls that he’s erected around himself. 

You wish he wouldn’t indulge you so, terrified you’ll try to cross the line he’s drawn between the two of you. 

“What are you thinking about?” Donghyuck asks, trying to read your expression

“About the delicious pie I’m about to make when we get back,” you smile. 

“I see,” he responds, though it’s clear he isn’t convinced. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You better be. This is how I’m paying you back for driving me here,” you nod. 

“Instead of that, pay me back by telling me what your favorite dessert is,” he suddenly says. “I do still want the pie, though.” 

“That was random,” you snort. “Why do you want to know my favorite dessert?”

“Because you asked me, but you never told me yours.” 

You suppose he has a point, but you find it ironic that he wants to know more about you when he refuses to offer you even a modicum of information about himself. Despite this, you tell him anyway because you are obviously the fool here. 

“If you must know, it’s red velvet cake,” you sigh. 

“Why?” 

You don’t answer at first, carefully thinking about if you’re ready to be vulnerable in front of him―still a virtual stranger. A virtual stranger who loves sweets. A virtual stranger who is a bit of a messy eater. A virtual stranger who knows Pompompurin. A virtual stranger who worries about you even when he’s not on the clock. A virtual stranger who gently tells you to be careful whenever you try to do something dangerous, whispering, “I’ll do it instead.” A virtual stranger who allows his luxury car to be caked in mud for you. 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life,” you finally say. “I baked it for my mom’s birthday, and I think I ended up being more excited than her.” 

Donghyuck stays quiet, gauging your reaction. 

“I was in college, studying to be a doctor like everyone else in my family. So, like a dumb young person who thought that dreams were more important than money, I dropped out of college and went to culinary school. My parents told me I was ruining mine and their lives, disowned me, yada-yada―a bunch of depressing stuff, you know. Eventually, I graduated, took out a huge loan, and opened up my own bakery. Worked a bunch of part-time jobs until my business could stand on its own. Now here I am. Still in debt, though,” you laugh awkwardly. “But I’m not doing too shabby. I was able to hire you, so at least I have a little cash to spare.” 

He still doesn’t say anything, so you find yourself starting to ramble. You’re really not sure what possessed you to trauma dump on him like that. 

“You know, a lot of people talk shit about red velvet cake because they say the only thing that makes it special is the red food coloring,” you hurriedly explain, “but that’s not true. The cream cheese frosting is super important too. Also, I always say love is the most important ingredient of all. As a baker, you’re kind of baring your heart to the customer, and isn’t it kind of cute that red velvet cake is red like a heart? Okay, please say something now or else I think I’m going to projectile vomit.” 

Donghyuck reaches over and brushes a sweaty lock of hair out of your face. His fingers brush over your temple, which makes you sharply suck in a breath. You almost lean into his touch, but you catch yourself. His hand slightly lingers on the side of your neck, like he wants to bring your face closer, but he eventually pulls away. 

He searches your face, and you’re not sure what he’s looking for―if anything. Rather, perhaps he’s not searching. Perhaps he’s committing your features to his memory, as if the way you look right now is something he wants to remember forever. 

“You’ve worked hard, Y/N,” he says softly, voice slightly hoarse. “This is long overdue, but congratulations. You achieved your dream, and don’t let anyone ever discount that. Not even yourself.” 

You wonder how long you’ve waited to hear that. You’re not even sure you knew you needed to hear that. But when Donghyuck says it, it hits you just how long and hard you’ve worked all on your own without a single break. Throughout the years, you’ve really only ever heard, “I’m sorry that happened.” When was the last time someone congratulated you? When was the last time you congratulated yourself? 

You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his shoulder. Donghyuck cradles you against him, one hand wound tightly around your waist while the other is tangled in your hair. You can feel his chest rise up and down as he holds you. He smells like lavender soap and a bit earthy from being outside, and the warmth of his skin against your cheek makes you want to close your eyes and fall asleep in his arms. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“No, thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You’re not sure why he’s thanking you instead, but what you are sure of is that you’re crossing the line, taking a step towards him and wondering if he’ll meet you halfway. 

.

.

.

“Tada!” you announce cheerfully, setting down the freshly baked blueberry pie onto the table. 

Donghyuck claps excitedly. “Holy shit, it looks amazing.” 

“I’m still trying to figure out the right portions for the filling, so let me know if you think there’s too much or little,” you tell him as you hand him a slice. 

Without even answering you, he stabs his fork into the pie and almost eats the entire slice in one bite, seemingly unbothered by the steam still rising from it. 

“Be careful. You’re going to burn your tastebuds off. I’m not letting you eat it for shits and giggles, you know. This is for research purposes.” You cross your arms. 

“It’s perfect, Y/N. I’m serious,” Donghyuck says after swallowing. “The filling isn’t too sweet, and the crust is airy and light.” 

“Well, alright, Gordon Ramsay. I think we’re going to be adding a new menu item then,” you smile. “Think you can get Mrs. Kim to buy a dozen of these?”

“I don’t think she’ll need much convincing with how good these taste.” 

“You’re so easy,” you tease. “All I need to do is feed you. Anyways, I’m going to clean up here, but you should head home. It’s getting late, and you wake up way earlier than me.” 

“I’ll help,” he insists. 

“Go,” you order, pointing at the door. “I can handle it.” 

He looks conflicted but eventually relents when you threaten to physically kick him out. Before he leaves, he turns back to you and says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Why do you keep thanking me?” you laugh. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

“What? A blueberry pie?”

Donghyuck pauses, a slight wonder in his expression, as if he’s realizing his answer for the first time as well.

“Peace.” 

And you think maybe this is a step forward for him too. 

RECIPE 3. CREAM PUFF

It’s quite surreal how easily and naturally you and Donghyuck fall into a routine together. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, two weeks becomes two months. You’ve learned the little things about him, like how he always swipes some icing before you can fill up the piping bag or that he’s not a coffee drinker at all (more of a hot cocoa person) or that he purses his lips when a dessert he’s testing tastes off (no matter how hard he tries to hide it) or that he involuntarily sticks his arm out in front of you when he wants to stop you from doing something you shouldn’t. 

You also notice that he sometimes comes into work with injuries. They’re not nearly as bad as the first time you met him, but it’s hard to ignore a bruised cheek or bloodied knuckles. He always has a reason for them, whether it’s tripping down the stairs or accidentally falling down and scraping his hands on the concrete. You can tell by the way he laughs it off that he doesn’t plan on telling you the truth, so you laugh with him. The two of you, having taken only a step towards one another, find yourselves completely immobile now. 

He always does this: envelops you like a cloud but disappears the moment you reach out for him. 

You’re honestly not sure why he’s still here. Your injury has long healed, and he clearly doesn’t need the abysmal pay you’re giving him. He feels like he’ll slip away at any moment, fleeting like a warm spring breeze, and you suppose time flies by when you know it’s limited. Despite knowing that, you can’t help but desperately want him to stay. 

“I think it’s cute how hard he’s working,” Yeri randomly says one day as she eyes Donghyuck prepare orders in the front. He’s in the middle of a lunchtime rush, so he doesn’t even notice the two of you watching him like weirdos.

“Well, that’s what I’m paying him to do,” you reply, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, I think the money is the least of his worries here,” she hums, taking a sip of her coffee. 

She has a point, but you’re pretty sure she’s implying something else as well. Just as you go to ask her what exactly she means, you hear a loud clatter. Flinching, you turn your attention back to Donghyuck and realize that he’s dropped a tray on the floor. However, the tray is the last thing on your mind when you see the expression on his face. It’s a mixture of horror, anger, and almost sadness―like he’s finally come face-to-face with whatever he’s been running from. It makes your blood run cold. 

Donghyuck is looking at a boy around his age; the boy has dark hair, a mole under his eye, and a grim expression. More importantly, he’s covered in injuries too. 

“Who is that?” Yeri whispers. “Why does Donghyuck look like he’s seen a ghost?” 

Maybe because he has, you want to tell her. 

Donghyuck grabs the boy's arm, squeezing so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and mumbles something to him. When he turns around and meets your eyes, he looks pained and fearful as if you witnessed something you shouldn’t have.

“Is it okay if I take my break early today?” he asks calmly, though the tremor in his voice gives him away. 

You nod hesitantly, unable to force yourself to speak. You watch him as he drags the boy out; when he passes you, you can tell how tightly his body is wound right now. His jaw is clenched, a muscle spasming as he tries to control himself, and every step he takes seems labored. He’s running on pure adrenaline right now, like he’s physically steeling himself. 

However, you don’t think he’s ever appeared so incredibly alone before. As you watch his back disappear further and further from your view, you’re unsure if he’ll ever return, and you never imagined how terrifying that would be. 

.

.

.

The cream puffs aren’t rising.

You’re crouched in front of the oven, watching the dough remain flat and lifeless. You should’ve known better than to attempt to make cream puffs on such a shitty day, especially when pastries like these are so sensitive to the environment and atmosphere. Even though you know you should probably just scrap them and try again, you wait for just a little longer, hoping that maybe if you wish hard enough that they’ll magically start to rise. 

But then again you suppose that no matter how hard you try, no matter how careful you are, no matter how perfect the batter is, no matter how much time you spend time piping them, no matter how much you want them to rise, they won’t. 

You decide that Donghyuck isn’t like a tiramisu at all; he’s sensitive and delicate and elusive and frustrating like a cream puff. 

“Y/N, they’re burning.” 

Losing your balance and nearly falling over, you gasp loudly. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even hear Donghyuck walk into the kitchen, nor did you smell the undeniable scent of something being burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh, fu―!” you curse, hurriedly opening the oven and casually suffocating both you and Donghyuck with a hot plume of air. Sputtering, you look around and grab a random rag from the sink before reaching for the cream puffs. 

“Wait, stop!” Donghyuck stops you with an outstretched arm, his hand pressed to your side. “Let me do it.” 

He gently takes the rag from your hand and removes the tray of charred cream puffs from the oven, dumping them into the trash before putting the tray in the sink and running some water on it―just how you like it. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, he turns back to you and asks, “Are you okay? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that. You didn’t get burned anywhere, did you?” 

When you don’t answer immediately, Donghyuck rushes forward and grabs your hands, carefully examining your fingers and arms. “Wait, are you hurt? Where? Tell me where you got burned. We have to cool it down with some lukewarm water. And don’t just say you’re fine. Burns are not a joke, Y/N―why are you looking at me like that?” 

His hands are calloused and rough, and you can still see scabs from where he tore his knuckles, yet he touches you like you’re the delicate one. He’s covered in fresh and old wounds, yet he looks so panicked at the thought of you having a scratch. 

“Shut up,” you whisper furiously, ripping your hands away from him. “From now on, don’t ask me another question. It’s my turn to ask you questions.” 

He blinks, a bit stunned by your reaction, but it’s clear he knows what you’re about to say. He goes to reach for you again but decides against it. “Okay.” 

“Who was that guy?” you demand. “Why are you always covered in injuries? Why did you lie to me? Who are you?” 

“He’s an old friend,” Donghyuck starts quietly. 

“Do you treat all your friends like that?” 

“When I don’t want to see them.” 

You wait for him to continue.

“Before I met you, he and I and a few of our other friends worked…odd jobs for cash,” he explains, and he looks like he’s choking on every word. “The jobs usually entailed us hurting people and also getting hurt. I did a lot of shit I wasn’t proud of. At the time, I didn’t really care. It was just nice to feel something, whether it was the adrenaline rush from doing the punching or the pain from being punched. I got a bunch of money, bought a bunch of expensive stuff, but none of it mattered. Eventually, I just felt nothing again. I didn’t even have the energy to loathe myself anymore. So, I took one last job, got the shit kicked out of me, and then I left. That’s when you found me―”

He inhales, and his eyes flicker towards you. He gazes at you so longingly, as if you were impossibly out of his reach, that you can’t help but involuntarily take a step towards him. 

But he steps back. 

“I thought that working here would make me feel like a human being again, but I didn’t realize how much I would―” He pauses again. “I thought working here would be a nice reset for me, but I naively thought that I could completely leave my past behind. My friends eventually found me, and I guess I care about those reckless assholes more than I thought because they managed to convince me to take on a few more jobs with them. That’s why I’ve been coming to work with injuries. But I’m done. I cut them off for good when they walked into this bakery. I don’t want…I don’t want our past to tarnish this place. I want to keep this place a beautiful, warm, and pure safe haven that you worked so hard for it to be. That’s why I lied to you, Y/N. I’m a coward to the bone, and I was envious of you. I was ashamed to admit it to you. You, who had the courage to chase after your dream. You, who had the kindness to help a good-for-nothing asshole like me. I only want you to have happy memories from now on, and I am not one of them.” 

“Are you going to leave?” you ask softly. 

“I probably should,” he answers shakily. 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“Just…one reason.” 

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like the reason is me.” 

Donghyuck laughs bitterly, and his eyes drag across your face like every movement hurts him.

“You know it’s you. It’s always been you.” 

When you reach for his hand, he turns away like just the warmth from your body heat burns him. So instead, you take a step back. 

“I won’t ask you to stay, Donghyuck, I won’t chase you. I’m going to wait right here, and it’s up to you if you're going to meet me halfway.” 

RECIPE 4. RED VELVET CAKE

When your alarm clock goes off the next morning, you seriously consider just not showing up to work. It’s not like you can be fired for being a no-show when you’re your own boss, after all. 

And it’s not like you have any employees who will be expecting you. 

You’ll just apologize to Mrs. Kim and your other regulars later. You’re allowed to have a day where you just rot in bed and feel sorry for yourself. 

However, no matter how much you tell yourself that, you find yourself crawling out of bed and getting ready anyway. You can’t seem to brutally crush that small glimmer of hope that Donghyuck might still be there, no matter how hard you try. When you see yourself in the mirror, you recoil in horror. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from the amount of crying you did last night, and your face is sallow and lifeless. 

So much for putting on a brave face, you think wryly to yourself. You tried so hard to look tough, when in reality, you bawled your eyes out and even considered praying to God for Donghyuck to stay. It’s a humiliating and humbling reality check. 

“Stand up right now,” you sharply tell yourself in the mirror. “He’s just some guy. Get it together.” 

You do your best to clean up your appearance and make the trek over to the bakery. It takes another internal pep talk before you can make your way to the door. After you finally walk up, you see that the lights inside are off. Your stomach sinks, and your eyes start to burn. Even though you’re holding the handle, you can’t bring yourself to open the door. It’s an outcome that you expected, yet you wonder why it hurts so badly. 

“You liar,” you mumble to yourself, “You said you only wanted me to have happy memories.” 

Once you make your way inside, you numbly head towards the kitchen, trying to remember what exactly you have to do today. Oh right, now that he’s not here, you also have to make sure all the ingredients are prepped first. 

When you walk into the kitchen, you do a double-take. 

The whole place looks like it’s been completely ransacked: used pans and utensils piled up in the sink, two opened boxes of cake mix, containers of ingredients without lids on on the tables, random lumps of flour and egg shells strewn about― 

And right in front of the oven is Donghyuck, flour in his hair and frosting on his nose. He’s holding a cake stand with…you think it’s supposed to be a cake on it? The shape is mangled and haphazardly cut, but it has echoes of a heart. The frosting is a hot mess, as if a bird with diarrhea shat all over the cake. The batter is clearly underbaked and makes the cake look gooey in a bad way. 

“Um, I promise I’ll clean all of this up in a second, but I wanted to surprise you,” Donghyuck starts awkwardly. “It’s not perfect, but I tried making a red velvet cake for you.” 

You stare at him, still not sure how to react. 

“You once said that baking is like baring your heart to the customer and that love is the most important ingredient of all,” he laughs softly to himself. “I think love is the only ingredient I managed to get right, but I’m baring my heart to you now, Y/N. I’m sorry I hid everything and lied to you, but I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. All my life, I’ve chased a feeling, not knowing what it was. But now I do. I don’t think I knew how to feel until I met you. I never once thought I would ever have a purpose in my life, but you make me want to be a normal, proper member of society. Your dream is my dream. I want to wake up at 5AM and sell egg tarts with you for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” 

Donghyuck sets the cake down on a table in front of you, and you notice that his fingers are dyed red from the food coloring. It almost reminds you of when you first met him, except his injuries have been replaced with red food coloring, flour, and cream cheese frosting. 

“This cake is terrible,” you smile, “how did you butcher it that badly when you used cake mix?” 

You watch him blush all the way down to his neck, as he sheepishly looks away. “Don’t make fun of me. I really tried my best. I stayed up watching tutorials―” 

Leaning across the table, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him, brushing your thumbs across his cheekbones. He tastes like frosting, hot cocoa, and your prayers being answered. The way he kisses you back is bruising, dizzying and knocking any coherent thought out of your head, his hands finding your hips and anchoring you to him. He kisses you like you’re the sweetest and most wonderful thing he’s ever tasted.

When you finally pull away, it takes you a moment to regain feeling in your legs. Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, lips brushing against yours once again as the two of you try to catch your breath. 

“I think I’m going to have to fire you, though,” you whisper. “You know, with me being your boss and all. The power dynamic is too weird.” 

He hums, pausing for thought. “Then how about I become your business partner?” 

“What?”

Donghyuck reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a shiny and fancy-looking credit card. He hands it to you without much fanfare. 

“I have a lot of money, you know. So I’m going to invest in your business. Use it as you’d like,” he casually announces.

You stare at him, your jaw hanging wide open. He never tried to hide from you that he was rich, but he never told you that he was rich rich. 

“Well, damn! Why didn’t you show me this earlier? I would have forgiven you a lot sooner,” you tease, slapping him on the arm. “Are you sure you want to give this to me? I’m quite the gold-digger, you know.”

“When I told you to use it as you’d like, I meant me as well,” Donghyuck replies, shrugging.

“You’re insane.” You hope he can’t tell how much your face is burning up. 

“I guess I am,” he laughs, and you don’t think he’s ever looked so free. You want to tell him that you hope he only has happy memories from now on too. You want to tell him that you’ll rewrite all of his scars with sugary and fluffy desserts so that they won’t ever hurt again. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel it too.

Peace. 

EXTRA

“So, have you figured out what your favorite dessert is?” 

Donghyuck stirs slightly, groaning, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He slips his hand under your shirt (well, technically it’s his shirt) and rests it on your bare hip bone. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

“Because I’m curious.” 

“If I answer, will you let me rest?”

“Depends on how good your answer is.” 

“Blueberry pie. That’s my answer.” 

You smile against the crook of his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s the dessert that made me realize I want to do this for the rest of my life.” 

[kings-highway]

pre-relationship bullshit haikyuu teams probably had to put up with before various ships managed to get their shit together

daisuga probably was really annoying with like small/petty jealousy, like a girl would hit on one of them and the other would be standing behind their back making faces about it and mocking it and everyone else on the team just has to put up with it. and then theyre all overly sweet to each other to make up for the petty jealousy or some odd version of "winning them back" after the flirting event and the team is rolling their eyes *so hard*

i think asanoya is so annoying bc nobody can convince Asahi that Noya likes him. Like full stop. Eventually someone pulls him aside and is point blank like "Noya said he has a crush on you ask him out" and Asahi is just like: "Haha he was probably joking" and just leaves the scene. Like the absolute refusal to believe it from Asahi combined with Noya's classic teen boy inability to be sincere means that even after theyve both been told they somehow still havent gotten together??? how long is this going to take???

tsukkiyama probably ruins everyone's week the week before they get together bc one of them *saw* a confession letter stuck into the other's bag and absolutely went (emotionally) off the rails for the days leading up to them discovering it was for them.

I am fully of the camp that iwaoi start dating before they label it/make it official so the whole team is screaming like "PLEASE HAVE A CONVERSATION ABOUT IT" meanwhile Oikawa is saying "we just went on a few dates and kissed a few times it doesnt mean anything" and Iwa is in the background shouting "yeah I dont wanna be anyone's boyfriend that's lame" and then they wander off to go eat dinner together holding hands and the team is left in frustration because ALL they talk about is how theyre *not* in a relationship.

for bokuaka its mostly just Bokuto pestering every goddamn person he knows for like 4 months asking "do you think Akaashi likes me?" or "do you think he'd say yes if I asked him out?" and then one day making Konoha *snap* when he says "I need to tell you a secret" and the secret is that he has a crush on Akaashi as if nobody had known that

with ushiten I imagine Tendou was probably really obvious with his crush/interest but in like a very casual "not taking myself too seriously" kind of way so he's comfortable openly flirting, and Ushijima, against everyone's expectations, doesnt seem to mind the attention but is still who he is, so the whole team just has to put up with the most INSANE interactions. Like Tendou walks into the locker room and cat calls him and Ushijima just replies with a formal "thank you" and Semi is contemplating slamming his head in a locker. There's like 12 months of this.

okay okay but I think arankita is *very classic* in that Aran compensates for his crush by over-supporting Kita. so like the whole team gets super annoyed bc Aran wont risk disagreeing with him, is always offering to do extra work, is generally just sucking-up really badly and the twins suffer the most for this bc Aran used to just ignore their antics but now he's super annoyingly on them all the time to try and impress Kita

kuroken is a little different. Yaku asks Kuroo every single day if he's asked Kenma out yet. Lev asks Kenma if he has a crush on Kuroo every chance he gets. Fukunaga gives them a wink when they leave practice to walk home together. This is the only pairing in which the team is the irritant pre-relationship and then post-relationship everyone loses interest and moves on.

I'd include kagehina but once again the entire goddamn show is everyone putting up with them flirting so whats the point.

[amourane]

kick in the right direction

pairing: football player!seungcheol x mascot!reader

genre: fluff, university au

w/c: 0.9k

summary: seungcheol is the star football player in your university but he becomes a bumbling mess in front of you.

warnings: none, you do get hit by a ball though

a/n: i have decided to start writing fics for seventeen too because i just love them way way too much <3 also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3

Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say. He usually has an explanation for his actions. There doesn’t seem to be anything coming to his mind when he sees you on the ground. The problem with being the star player on the football team was the amount of trust his coach put on him. As well as the thought that they needed to win every game, that wasn’t a problem though because Choi Seungcheol was a beast when he was in game mode. His aim was the best on the whole team, he’d never missed a goal. 

Obviously today was an off day.

“You’re staring, Cheol.” Jeonghan gives him a hearty slap on the back. “You really like our school mascot don’t you?” All Seungcheol can do is nod, watching as Seungkwan helps you up.

He really wants to go over and say sorry for nearly knocking you out with his kick but he can’t. Not because he doesn’t want to but because he simply can’t. It’s stupid really. Choi Seungcheol, star player of the football team, can’t say two words when he’s faced with you. He’s tried speaking to you. Once after a game, not the best choice because he’d become so nervous he spilt his water bottle all over you. Even after you told him it was fine he was still stuttering his words. Another time he’d managed to catch you walking down the hallway. The moment you smiled and said ‘hi’ his mind blanked. No words could come out of his mouth and he stood there gaping like a goldfish.

Talking to girls was easy for Seungcheol. He could give them a smile and they’d be fawning all over him. You were different. There isn’t one time he’s had a full conversation with you with nothing embarrassing happening. He’d stumble over his words or nothing would come out of his mouth. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the fact you would grin every time he came up to you and he didn’t like giving up.

“Of course I like her!” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “I just don't know what to do?”

“You could ask her out.”

“I can’t!” 

His friend arches an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean you can't ask her out? Like you're scared, or you don't know how to, because those two are completely different things." Jeonghan's tone is gentle but probing, urging Seungcheol to confront the root of his hesitation.

“That’s not it. I’ve got everything planned out. I know what to say and I know where I want to bring her to. There’s a whole plan in my notebook, it’s coloured in and everything!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Whenever I go up to her to ask her out my throat closes and I can’t find the right words. Or when I try to even write my confession, my hand freezes and no letters can be written. It’s even worse because I manage to make a fool of myself whenever I’m in front of her!” He kicks the football away.

Jeonghan sighs, staring at Seungcheol as he aimed a perfect kick to the goal. The boy was completely enamoured by you. Practically the whole school knew about his crush on you. Everyone was just waiting for the day the both of you would come in hand in hand. 

//

“Y/n, oh my god! Are you okay?” Seungkwan was shaking you by your shoulders. You rub your head. That football was really hard. Who knew air could hurt you? “How many fingers am I holding up?” He waves three fingers around and your eyes struggle to adjust to his trembling hand.

“Calm down. I just got hit in the head, I don’t have a concussion or anything.” You just know there’s going to be a huge bump on your forehead tomorrow. “It’s partly Stuart’s fault.” You pat the dragon costume you had on. The fuzzy green body was heavy and the long swishy tail at the back was quite annoying to lug around.

"Why are you blaming our mascot? Stuart did nothing wrong," Seungkwan interjects, shooting a pointed glare at Seungcheol. "Star player my ass." He mutters under his breath, clearly unimpressed.

“Hey, don’t blame him. I’m sure it was an accident.” You give Seungcheol a little smile and an ‘okay’ sign to tell him everything was fine. 

“I can’t believe you like that dumbass, he can’t string two sentences together when he’s in front of you.” Seungkwan helps you up, handing you Stuart’s head. You dust off the dirt on your costume. 

What was there not to like about Choi Seungcheol? He was popular, athletic, smart and talented in everything. Not to mention he was the literal definition of eye candy. There hadn’t been many occasions where you two had met. He’d always stutter helplessly or his cheeks would resemble a fire truck, which was very endearing. It was quite funny seeing him stumble over his words whenever he tried to ask you out.

“Why don’t you just ask him out? You already know he likes you, not that he makes it the most obvious thing in the world.” 

“But isn't it just the cutest thing when he tries to ask me out but he’s a stuttering blushing mess?” You giggle when you catch sight of the pout Seungcheol has on his face. “I hope he asks me out soon though, I can’t wait to finally go on a date with him.” 

The smile you shoot at Seungcheol has him tripping over his feet, face planting into the ground. Suppressing your laughter behind your hand, you watch as he hurriedly picks himself up, only to see his teammates rolling on the floor with amusement.

“How long are you even willing to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”