#you freaks love hearing about my silly little puppy life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaisgrayte · 7 months ago

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I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR WORKS. YOU HAVE ME SCREAMING AND CRYING. The amount of detail that you put into them is MWAH the freakin chefs kiss 😘 you have been promoted to my #1, please never stop what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️

on another note, would you mind if I requested a scenario with Gojo? Maybe something about fem!y/n being from a high ranking rival clan, who the Gojo clan has despised for their entire existence. Maybe y/n has always had a crush on satoru ever since they first saw each other as kids, but since they were raised to hate each other it never went any further than a small lil crush. but now they're adults and both powerful sorcerers, her feelings kind of just pop back up out of nowhere and satoru finds it amusing how even after all this time and the things that their clans told them about each other that she would still have her little puppy crush on him. Maybe it could be like a she fell first and he fell harder scenario? i'm a slut for those oh my gosh

thank you so much!!!!

That's so so so sweet of you! Honestly, got me giggling and kicking my feet. Careful, I will propose, istg. This... turned into a monster while writing it. I came up with a silly little plan and a silly little idea to incorporate into your request and then this monstrosity was born. If I wasn't told to stop... I might've never stopped writing on this. I L O V E D this idea. Friends to lovers/1 fell first then the other fell harder I EAT UP EVERY TIME. So, here's what my whore brain wrote <3 love you and I hope you enjoy!

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Gojo harasses the women he's actually into (he forgets how to flirt so just ends up bullying them), teasing, flirting, kissing, cowgirl, missionary, raw sex, a lot of touching, feelings...so many feelings

word count: 6.1k

The Crave | Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Are you sure they’ll be there? I don’t want their son to look at our precious daughter.” Your mother holds you closely to her legs, clicking her tongue in annoyance when the maid nods her head. “Unbelievable. You hear that? Do they think they can parade that freak of nature around Japan? Well, they’ll have to see our daughter as well. She’s got the normal amount of eyes and isn’t staring at everyone with those ugly blue ones.” Her tone is harsh and for a six-year-old you, it’s hard to understand why she’s so angry. You also doubted that the young boy had six eyes.

Your father walks into the room, straightening his tie with a stern look on his features. “As long as they keep him away from her, everything will be fine.”

But as you were brought into the party, still close to your mother – you saw nothing but a boy with snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Sure the way he glared at you was slightly off-putting, but he was just a boy. He was alone in the room, but everyone seemed to be talking about him. Even your mother shamed him behind a gloved hand.

Your heart aches. What did he do that warranted such disgust for simply being alive? The Gojo clan and your clan had been at odds since the very conception of both. They bred powerful sorcerors for fame, gain, and wealth. He was yet another product of selfish desire, born into a role and body he didn’t ask for. His life ahead would be filled with always the underline of being strong. Somehow; being uniquely gifted gave him the responsibility to be used like a tool. You knew your fate wasn’t far behind his.

Though, his eyes sparkled like he knew some deeply funny thing about the world. That – even though his destiny was surely to be used up by his clan – there were still things to be enjoyed in the world. It made your…stomach hurt. Both a swirling breeze of cool and a stifling wave of heat. Boiled and frozen, pumping whatever this feeling was straight into your tiny brain.

That was the first time you ever saw Satoru Gojo, and you’d soon come to realize around the age of 10 that you had developed an infatuation with him. Children surrounded you, chattering about how you and Satoru were going to get married when you were older. Of course, you blushed and stayed quiet – which in hindsight wasn’t the best idea since the gaggle of children went screaming at Satoru about how you wanted to marry him. A less-than-ideal situation because those sapphire eyes tracked you down amongst the crowd and 10-year-old Satoru smirked. You were utterly done for.

Thinking back on the encounters you’d had with Satoru Gojo, you were glad your family hated him. It gave you an excuse to hide behind that fact because still – in your 20s – his face would appear in the back of your mind. You’d heard things about the miraculous powerful sorcerer he’d become from your boss at the special unit for special grade sorcerors. Your mother called you about 30 times just today to remind you Satoru wasn’t the strongest, you were. The Gojo clan was sneaky, they didn’t care about anyone else except for their gain. Your parents had raised you to be wary of anything the Gojo clan did, one misstep, and suddenly you’d be shipped off to the States.

It was a mix inside your stomach. The Gojos were not to be trusted and you most definitely were not allowed to interact with their heir. So when your boss comes waltzing up to you with a wide smile on her face, you know that rule is about to be broken. “YN, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Her laugh comes off rushed. Your boss knew about the tensions between the rivaling clans, working with special grade sorcerors required her to do so. Then why? Why the hell did she pass over a report with that stupid fucker’s face on it? “There’s a powerful curse roaming around Shibuya that needs the attention of,” she pauses, scrunching her face in thought.

You sigh, the annoyance in your body pooling in your joints. “Two extremely powerful sorcerors?” You offer, the fakest smile known to mankind presenting itself on your lips.

Nevertheless, she lights up and hits her fist on the flat of her palm. “Exactly! See, this is why we have you on the team!” She exclaims with a little too much vigor for your taste.

You watch her for a moment, noticing the way her long blue hair bounces around – almost like they were cheering you on as well. “Right…” You drag out the word, glancing at the file folder in your hand. “Why can’t Gojo handle it by himself then?” Her excitement seemingly drains from her face. You take note immediately. “Boss, how powerful is this damn thing?”

༘⋆✿

Meanwhile, Satoru had the same look on his face – annoyance. He understood having two special graders go on this mission would ultimately be the best option, but you? What sort of sick play of the fates was this? You were always so, he groans running a hand down his face, perfect. Your reputation, your battle tactics, hell even your coworkers thought you were the best. That’s insane. What kind of person even has all of their coworkers think the best of them?

He tosses your folder to the side of his desk, wanting to bang his forehead on the surface of the hardwood just to make sure he is seeing things clearly. The higher-ups were always comparing him to you, making sure he never fell behind in anything. Your clan was just a bunch of prissy stuck-up snobs… but then again… so was his.

It’s useless, he was stuck going on this mission with you because no matter how powerful he was, he would never have power over himself. He reaches for your folder again, flipping it open. Along with the neverending list of your accolades and magnificent achievements, was a picture of you paperclipped to the stack of paper. A few beats of silence pass as Satoru stares at your face.

After a few more minutes he grunts and shuts the folder again. He focuses on pulling the black cloth back over his eyes. The curse would be a piece of cake, especially with both of you on the mission. That’s not what he was worried about per se. The tricky part was how unbelievably pretty you had gotten to be and how there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, this was going to be a shitshow. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder – with a growing smirk on his face – if you still had that puppy dog crush on him.

༘⋆✿

“Yes, right this way ma’am.” A blonde man guides you toward Satoru’s office. He’s in an interesting outfit, not the usual sorcerer apparel. His tie is black and white forming an interesting pattern. His calm blue dress shirt is tucked into a pair of beige slacks. He’s very handsome and also looks very tired. Probably from dealing with all of Satoru’s bullshit if you had to guess.

He stops in front of a door and you almost don’t catch how his body deflates quickly with a tiny sigh before he’s back to normal. “Before I go in, please just call me YN.” Your body moves on its own, planting a hand on his rather muscular shoulder.

He attempts a smile, but it falters almost as soon as the corners of his mouth reach their peak. “Call me Nanami, Nanami Kento.” He extends a hand and you gratefully shake it. He seems nice. Then, he opens the door and leaning up against a desk is none other than Satoru.

Satoru is in uniform and you’ll be damned, he looks too good in it. How can someone that lanky pull off a baggy uniform? His fluffy white hair spikes out in a messy ‘I woke up looking this good’ way. Your heart – against every inch of your being, is thumping wildly in your chest. You should’ve double-checked his file to conclude he doesn’t have six ears. What if he can hear how erratic your pulse is? His azure gaze is locked in on the man beside you. “Thank you, Nanami,” Satoru smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hear a grunt beside you and then Nanami starts walking down the hall. You watch him leave, wishing he could’ve stayed longer. You hear a loud cough from inside the room. Furrowing your brows you turn your gaze to Satoru, who looks irritated. “I thought you came to spend time with me YN, yet here you are not even paying any attention to me.” He complains, standing up.

You press your lips into a thin line. “We’re not here for a playdate, we have business to do.” You reply with a lash of venom in your cool tone. Satoru glances off to the side with an airy laugh and smirk. What was he laughing about? You were growing more frustrated with every second.

“Mmm, playdates remind me of when we were children.” He’s still looking off to the side like he’s watching a memory play out that only he can see. His gaze is back to you in an instant. “You had a crush on me, remember?” He cocks his head to the side, a teasing grin taking over his stupidly handsome face.

Your body cools with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Oh, so he wanted to bring up the past? You put on your best ‘fuck around a find out’ smile. “Yeah, but that was before puberty hit and I had standards.” You answer the tone of your voice higher and sweeter than before. Satoru raises his brows as an amused expression takes over his face. “Shall we get to business now?” You snap, which only makes him burst out laughing.

Satoru is walking toward you now and the alarm bells in your head start flashing. “Hey, before that I have a question I’ve been dying to know.” He leans down, planting a hand on the wall next to your head to be level with you. You stiffen, growing uncomfortable. Not with Satoru being this close, but with how much your body seems to enjoy it.

Your brows knit together and a frown tugs your face downward. “What?” You fume, jerking your head to emphasize the word. Satoru observes you, that feeling in his stomach clawing its way up. His gaze falls to your lips for the slightest of seconds.

He swallows, the vexing emotion wanted to be near you, beside you, touching you, in you. How troublesome. The only way for Satoru to get rid of this feeling was to somehow annoy you to the extent you never came around him again. Granted – you didn’t anyway, but this exception had nearly driven him to the edge already. “When you were little, did you ever create an illusion of me? Did you hold his hand? Practice kissing him?” Satoru inquires, feeling full of himself. Your whole face drops. You must be in a different world because he did not just ask you that. A garbled scoff sounds from your throat as you gape at him, utterly dumbfounded.

You try to process what the hell is going on by opening and closing your mouth, raising your hands then dropping them again, and blinking rapidly. “Oh my God,” are the first words that you say. They’re also the next few thousand words you say considering how many times you repeat the phrase.

By this time Satoru has dropped his arm, regarding you with a rueful grin. He’s backed away a few paces and you finally point a finger at him. “You are disgusting. You mean nothing to me. You’re such an annoying,” You’re panting, anger rolling through you in cold and hot waves. “An annoying.”

“What YN? An annoying what?” Your eyes are going to bulge out of your head. He’s smirking again! Smirking!

“An annoying fuckface!” You scream, throwing your hands out in pure frustration. You groan exasperatedly before storming out of his office.

༘⋆✿

Had you really called him a fuckface? What did that even mean? Satoru is staring at the ceiling of his city-rise apartment, unbelievably shell-shocked from the events earlier today. He flips over on his side. It hadn’t gone exactly like he planned, although he didn’t put much planning into the whole thing. Tomorrow morning you’d both meet up at Shibuya station to track down the cursed spirit. He should probably apologize for acting like an idiot…he groans and flips back onto his back.

Morning comes like a weight of bricks. You’re both standing awkwardly in the station. The people passing by must sense something because none of them even look your way. Satoru points to the stairs leading to the street level. “Uh, we could always patrol the rooftops…” He’s being so awkward. It was honestly a hit to his ego. Usually, the ladies ate up his tease em’ and leave em’ tactic. As he stares at you a blood-curdling scream echoes from the street above. Dust shakes off of the parts of the station as a loud explosion shakes the ground.

You glance at Satoru and he nods his head, a knowing smile creeping up his face. Finally, some fighting to get his mind off of whatever asshole thing he’d manage to say to you next. As you both reach the street ahead you’re met with chaos. Cars are being flung by a large lizard entity, but it has eyes everywhere on its body. Satoru is about to gauge an attack but you burst out laughing next to him. His footing stutters, eyes widening as he takes in your genuine laugh. It’s… kind of majestic. You hug your stomach, doubling over in laughter as you extend your hand to point at the cursed spirit. “Looks like,” you snort out a giggle, “Looks like you have some competition for having the most eyes.”

Gojo is immediately taken aback by your words. A woman runs screaming past you as you wipe a tear away from your eye. “Now let me show you a thing or two.” You sprint toward where rubble and wreckage cause obstacles. You make light work of climbing atop a sizeable pile of rebar and pavement. “Hey, lizard breath! Over here!” Jumping up and down, you wave your arms in the air. Did Satoru have to do anything? You seem to know what to do.

He watches you with a small chuckle as the monstrosity turns its bulbous eyes toward you. In the blink of its mucusy eyes, your image doubles. Thousands of you spread across the street, then start attacking the main body. Satoru grins, jumping in to join. “Think you could have all the fun without me?!” He yells toward you.

You’re surprised he could easily see which one of you was the real one. Though, you guess that’s what all those eyes were for. You were working off of one another – working with each other. If your clans could see you now. You’re both laughing and fighting like taking a walk in the park. Surprisingly Satoru can’t keep his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to protect you or simply because as you fought alongside him you proved you didn’t need his protection. When you were with him you didn’t rely on him. No, you could handle yourself, which made Satoru crave your attention. He was the strongest…but with you by his side, his strength would finally be supported rather than taken for granted.

It doesn’t take long to deal with the cursed spirit and for once Satoru is glad you’re required to come back as a team to fill out paperwork. That way he could get a little extra time with you. He smirks to himself as you finish up in Shibuya.

He likes the look of you in his office, sitting on the couch in the corner with a small table in front of you. A laptop, a stack of papers, and a cup of tea are all somehow set on top of the small space. Your hair is falling in front of your face as you crouch over to type away the report. He was supposed to be working too, but he’d be damned if he broke his gaze now. “You ever going to stop looking at me and actually fill out some of those files Mr. Gojo?” You hum, still concentrating on the screen in front of you. Of course, you’d figure out he was gawking, it’s not like he was hiding it.

Satoru clears his throat and glances away. “You can call me Satoru,” He pouts. When was the last time Satoru had requested a woman call him by his given name? Out of everyone else’s mouth, it was a simple endearment, but out of yours? That was something else entirely.

You sigh, pausing in your efforts to finish the paperwork before dawn. You roll your lips into your mouth and tap your chin. “I think I much prefer fuckface.” You say, then smile sweetly.

Satoru nods his head, pushing out of his seat. “Yeah? You want to call me fuckface or you want to fuck my face?” He banters. Your body tenses as you watch him sit on the edge of his desk. There's a pressure building in between your thighs that you can’t ignore. Your body feels like there are phantom touches caressing all of the places you yearned for Satoru to touch.

You huff and turn away from him. “Back to this? Where’s your dignity, your charm, your manhood?” You ask. You jerk to the side, shaking your head. “No wait- that’s not exactly what I mean to say please don’t-”

Satoru is already laughing. “My manhood? Damn, you really must be thinking up all sorts of illusions in there, but,” he crosses the room, stopping in front of your table. He pushes the laptop shut with his fingertips. “The real thing is always going to be better darlin’.”

It suddenly seems very hard to swallow, so you let out an awkward laugh before gathering up your things. “Right, sure, I have to go.” You stumble over your words, rushing for the door. If you didn’t get out of this room right now you were sure bad things would happen. By bad things, you meant letting your guard down for a second around a man who was just flirting with you for the hell of it. You were a part of a rival clan, which meant he couldn’t have you. That also meant he wanted you more than the average woman. Of that, you could be certain, but you wouldn’t be some plaything Satoru could throw to the side once he’d had his fun.

Behind you Satoru’s face had fallen, his chest rising and falling quickly as you scurry out of his office. Good, now that the real threat had been dealt with, he had some paperwork to finish. You’d be safer away from him, not wrapped up in his clan dealings and always having to live for others. For once, Satoru wanted to be truthfully selfish – sure he would go out, drink, party, enjoy one or two ladies, but in the end he was left with himself again. Satoru couldn’t save himself and he was scared that the only one powerful enough to pull him out of this desperate cry for help…was you.

༘⋆✿

A couple of months pass by without hide or tail of Satoru. Working alongside him was honestly…freeing. You weren’t held back by the possibility of someone weaker getting hurt. You groan, turning your face to the sky above you. It was gratifying being able to let loose with your own powers. Usually that many mimics will render you immobile, but you were able to spring into action right next to them. “Ma’am, a report from the Tokyo campus,” A file is passed in front of you. As you glance through the pages you turn to glance at your boss.

She seems busy chatting away with one of the other sorcerers. You blow out a sigh and tuck the file under your arm. “Call them back and tell them I’ll be there within the hour.” You glance down at your sweats, wincing at the fact you wore such comfortable clothes to work. “Maybe make that 2.” You mutter, a disapproving scowl taking over your face.

You ran home to change into a pair of running shoes, black leggings, and whatever shirt was on top of your dirty laundry. Unlike someone else, you couldn’t teleport, so public transportation was your only way to reach the Tokyo campus area. Walking up the stairs takes a little more effort than you’d like to admit, but when you reach the top you’re met with a shirtless Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento training. Your jaw practically dislocates from your mouth as you gawk. They were gliding through the air and Nanami somehow had a more excited expression on his face than before. Of course, Satoru notices you first, but that allows Nanami to get a whack in. “Hey! That was foul play.” Satoru hisses, holding his cheek.

Nanami shrugs, bending down to pick a towel off the ground. “Should’ve put your infinity back up.” He then glances at you and smiles. Your heart warms and a cheesy smile appears on your face. “Hey YN,” He waves and for a moment you’re awestruck by how handsome he is. The Lord was kind to these men. So…so very kind. Both of them were muscular, their abdomens shaped into ridges and divots. Biceps, triceps, everything went on in rippling splendor forever. You’d thought Satoru had maintained a scrawny figure, but you were certainly proved wrong and you were so glad you were.

“Hi there Nanami.” You walk over to him, picking up a stray water bottle on your way. You hand it to him but he shakes his head.

“Thank you, but that’s actually his,” he juts his thumb toward Satoru and your face falls. You toss it toward the silver-haired man and he annoyingly catches it with ease.

He glares at you, throwing his towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, thanks YN.” He grumbles. Nanami nods toward the school building.

“If you let me wash up I can take you to Yaga’s office.” He’s back to smiling and honestly, you might have a thing for smiles.

You latch your hands behind your back and giggle to yourself. “That would be really sweet of you Nanami.” Satoru snorts out a laugh on the other side of Nanami. You shoot him a glare.

“Why are you callin’ Nanami by his first name but you don me fuckface?” Satoru shoots toward you, frustration twinging all of his happiness from the earlier training session. Nanami peers between you two, and then his brows shoot up with an airy laugh.

“Oh my God you’re the one that called him fuckface? That’s so fucking funny.” Nanami laughs toward the sky, a soft sound coming from him.

Satoru grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes like a frustrated child. “You are coming with me.” He growls, latching onto your wrist and pulling you toward the school.

You stumble over your footing as he yanks you down the pathway. “S-Satoru w-wait oh my God!” You yell as you finally enter the building. He tosses you into the room you know to be his office. You falter backward, catching yourself on his desk. “What’s going on, what the fuck was that?” You hiss. He stalks toward you, throwing his towel onto the couch with a little more aggression than you’d like.

He closes the distance between you, his nostrils flaring and eye twitching. “Oh so now you call me by name? Oh well, it’s too late for that now princess. You’ve pushed me far enough.” He laughs hotly moving between your legs. He’s massive and his skin is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him through your pants. He towers over you in an overwhelmingly torturously attractive way.

It was hard to understand what was happening with the ringing of your heart covering all rational thought. “What are you saying? I’m not the one that made all those stupid jokes,” You mutter, looking away from him. He hisses, grabbing onto your chin and making your gaze settle back onto him.

He laughs dryly as you blink questioningly at him. “Yeah? You had that stupid crush on me, that’s what caused this.” He spits, but you still can’t decipher what he’s trying to get at.

Your lips part, letting out a small exasperated breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean to crush on you again, just old habits die hard I guess,” You explain, groaning as his grip tightens on your chin. His face looks tormented like some great plague has taken over his body.

He scoffs, tossing your face to the side. You grunt with the impact, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. “Again? Haaa,” He covers his eyes with his hand, groaning softly. “You ran away from me then ignored me YN… how does that scream ‘I have a crush on you?’” The hand that was over his eyes drags down his face. You don’t have an explanation for him because you barely had one for yourself. “You must’ve sent one of your puppets to walk around the streets by my apartment, the campus, but the one thing I can’t figure out is how you got one of them to walk around in my head. I can’t see anyone except you and I’m going crazy.” His eyes are pained and his breath is labored. You finally understand.

“Satoru…” You whisper his name with all the softness in the world, years of loving him building up into an insurmountable emotion. He turns away from you, covering his mouth this time.

“Fuck YN, don’t say my name like that.” He hisses and you swear you can see playboy Satoru Gojo’s ears blaze a red color. “You weren’t even trying earlier, but you made me so jealous. Nanami was flirting with you right in front of me and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to both be Nanami and beat the shit out of him.” He slowly lets his gaze turn to you again. “I think I’m in love with you YN,” His voice is nervous, and his eyes are flittering all over your face, searching for answers.

In love with you? Satoru Gojo was in love with…you? After all the years of your mother telling you to stay away from that boy. You were never supposed to be in this situation, especially not with the head of the Gojo clan. But you know what they say… actually, you didn’t really care about some emotional quote that would relate to this very moment because all you wanted to do – craved to do, was kiss Satoru until the sun set behind the Tori gate.

“Our clans aren’t going to be very happy about this new development.” You chuckle and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s not an answer YN…” Okay, so he wants words. A confirmation? What exactly did you feel? Was it love? Was it something different? You didn’t have to know now, time would solidify whatever love is. All you can do is put a name to what you’re feeling.

You smile, a blossoming feeling thumping in your chest. “Yes Satoru, I love you.” You almost don’t get the words out because Satoru slips a hand into your hair and brings your mouths together in a passionate kiss. He kisses you like he’s been a starved man all his life, like he’s never wanted to kiss someone this badly.

Satoru is obsessed with the way you gasp between kisses and how your eyes squeeze shut. “You can open your eyes, I’m the real thing.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb against your cheek soothingly.

You weren’t afraid Satoru was one of your illusions, but rather how real this was in the first place. When you really want something you shouldn’t the whole world kind of falls away when you get that thing. When Satoru kisses you, it’s only him and that was terrifying for someone who constantly surrounded herself with things. You peek through your lashes at him anyway. “The same thing goes for me, I’m real.” You state lamely.

Satoru blows out a chuckle, grinning mischievously. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that, maybe you should show me.” His eyes darken and the sweltering heat you felt before nearly doubles in size and intensity.

You put your hand over the one he has on your cheek, lowering it until his fingertips brush against the swell of your chest. His brows shoot up and before he has much time to react you move it lower to the apex of your thighs. His breathing falters as he stares, eyes swimming with lust. “Come on Gojo, show me what a rival clan can really do.” The corners of your mouth lift in an enticing smirk.

For all the time he was irritating and downright egotistical, Satoru is a good listener now. He pushes you into the desk, groaning when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “You sure do drive a hard bargain.” His mouth tickles against your neck, kissing a trail down to your shoulder. He pauses, taking in a breath. “Mmm, you smell so good,” He mumbles against your shirt. You flush, embarrassment running hot through your veins. Did he like the smell of your dirty shirt? If you’d known the situation you’d be in right now, you would’ve put more thought into what you were wearing.

He brings himself back up toward your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips. A selfish moan breaks through as Satoru works his lips against yours. “God, you’re so good at that.” You breathe out. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest.

You take in his chest, appreciating the view. This earns a chortle from Satoru. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when my shirt is off.” You lean into him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s something hard pressing into your thigh. How you didn’t feel it until now is a mystery because that thing is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Satoru grunts, pulling you up and off the ledge of his desk. “Do you feel that? I think I finally understand what the elders were talking about. All I want to do with you right now is ram my cock into you until I have you writhing under me. Then finish fucking my cum into your cervix so you can mother my children. That way, your parents will have to like me and my clan, because you’ll be a Gojo.” He’s being serious right now, setting you down on the couch.

You bite your lip curiously. “Do you plan on wedding me Satoru Gojo?” It’s a loaded question that he didn’t have to answer. It was a sweet moment and there you had to go asking a question like that. You don’t expect Satoru to sink onto one knee, take your hand, and place loving kisses on your knucks.

He meets your gaze, electricity burning between the both of you. “May you wrap my heart around your finger one day and bear my burdens as I will bear yours.” What was even happening? Marriage? Surely this was one big dream, because years ago when you were both kids even imagining this day seemed like a far-off occurrence. This was all so sudden, but in all honesty, when have the two of you ever conformed to conventional standards?

You were certain of one thing, you didn’t want your first time with Satoru Gojo to be on some dusty couch in the corner of his office. “Satoru… do you think we could continue…” You glance down, running your tongue over your lips. “This elsewhere?” His eyes glimmer, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

He stands, still holding your hand. “I just basically proposed to you and all you can think about is getting in my pants. Man, rejection stings.” He tuts, shaking his head. You roll your eyes as you both laugh, a heavyweight finally being lifted. Yeah, this felt right.

All at once you feel nauseated and dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping onto Satoru like he was the only thing that could hold you up. “What the fuck was that?” You gasp, blinking your eyes open to find a completely different scene than when you closed them.

Satoru caresses your cheeks, grounding you to him. “Sorry, I promise you’ll get used to it, well… maybe not, but still I’m sorry.”

“Where are we?” You gasp, hands still clutching his arms as you peer around the living room you appear to be in. It feels less than lived in like someone staged the whole apartment – which is what you assumed Satoru had teleported you both into.

He scratches the back of his neck while nervously chuckling. “My apartment,” His gaze falls to you, taking in how perfect you look among his things. “Do you like it?” He asks with such a look in his eyes, similar to a puppy begging for attention.

You peek out the ground to ceiling-level windows, laughing to yourself. “I didn’t know teachers got paid so much.” Satoru grins, nodding toward the windows – or rather the city outside of them.

“Oh you know, I got kind of a side hustle going on.” He shrugs, then turns to you, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “You should see the bedroom.” He offers you his hand, jerking his head to a hallway. “I hear the owner hates it when the bed is made, the least we should do is go mess them up for him.” You take Satoru’s hand and let him lead you into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Once the door was shut behind you the playful comments were thrown aside – replaced by frantic kisses and undressing. Satoru sits on the foot of the bed, watching you in all your splendor. Your body was that of a dream, your breasts, the slope of your stomach, thighs, fuck everything about you was glorious. Satoru couldn’t remember how to breathe gazing upon you. “Like what you see?” You tease, positioning yourself over his lap.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, settling onto your knees. Satoru blows out a choked noise. “Thank fuck I have so many eyes because I couldn’t imagine not being able to see all of you like this.” His hands are on you, running up your back, molding his long fingers into your squishy tits, and then down your side to dig his nails into your hips. “Are you okay with this?” He inquires, tilting his head.

You smile, but a small part of you wants to line yourself up with his cock and bottom out. “I’m okay with so much more.” You breath. He understands, after all you both want the same thing right now – crave it.

You both wait with bated breath as Satoru lets you guide him into your entrance. With all the teasing and edging closer and closer to this moment, you were far from dry. It was a little embarrassing how slick you were considering there was practically no foreplay. You hiss as his pretty cock sinks deeper into your throbbing cunt. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You can take all of me,” His grip on your hips tightens, helping push you onto him. A strangled moan hisses out of your mouth as you slump onto Satoru’s shoulders. “Feels s’good baby. God, you’re so perfect.” He’s kissing your temple and you’re squeezing his cock with airy moans. After a moment, he bottoms out, a guttural groan rumbling from within him. “You did so good, fuck,”

The air feels thick, heady, and fills with the wet sound of Satoru’s cock inside you. “Go-go ahead and move.” You order with a shaky breath. He starts to move, laying back to better fuck into you. You plant your hands on his abdomen, moaning loudly. His length hits every sensitive spot at once, causing you to tremble on top of him.

Satoru chuckles, then suddenly flips you both over. “Come on YN, I thought you’re one of the strongest sorcerers in Japan, you can handle me fucking you.”

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m0rgu3wif3 · 1 year ago

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what would yall think about pet play w/ mahito............. hear me out PLEASE-

I just think that he's such a little fucking freak, he enjoys learning in the most unconventional ways. he already likes you a lot, more than he expected to like any human. and of course, mahito knows OF sex, he knows that's how humans make babies and they do it for fun too. but puppy!mahito is real asf in my eyes. so needy for your praise and validation, for your scolding, and for his punishments. he could very well transmute you into an unrecognizable creature of your worst nightmares. but, he doesn't (and you don't question why). because he loves it when you guide his hips and teach him how to fuck you just right. hammering into your sloppy wet cunt, forcing those cute noises from you just by leaning his weight into you a bit more and using his long fingers to torture your overstimulated clit. he loves hearing you choke out praises during and after you both cum. he loves your human warmth, your lips all over his face when he does well. he's never wanted to do well in his short life, he just did as he pleased. that hasn't gone away, and after some time, you know that scolding and punishments don't work on him. not only is he a masochist, but he latches onto all of your attention, positive or negative. the only way to really know you're displeased or hurt is to ignore him wholly. he's a dick and a brat, so he won't immediately drop to his knees and beg for you to pay attention to him again. but after a few hours, days even, he's sick of it and misses you running your fingers through his hair and his misses biting you playfully for no reason. only then will he drop his pride and apologize, looking up at you with eyes the size of the moon. in all fairness, it's your fault. you spoil him silly, mahito is so hard to say no to when he looks like that.

so YES okay puppy!mahito my little baby my princess my sweetheart I just wanna fucking deep fry him so bad

#jjk x reader #x reader #cw pet play #jjk drabble #mahito #mahito x reader #jjk mahito #hes so cute #i love him

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turn-off-the-sun-goatman · 4 years ago

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Main 6 + Morga When They Walk in on MC Crying

Asra

He would most likely freak out at first

Immediately runs to you and asks what’s wrong. If you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll just hug you and try to calm you down.

“Everything’s going to be alright, okay? I’m here. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

If you don’t want to be held, he understands and sits in front of you without leaving your side. However, if you tell him to leave, he will ask if that is what you really want. If the answer is “yes,” he’ll get up and leave, but will stay outside the door as a precaution.

Faust will try to lighten your mood by squeezing your hand and saying some silly things.

When you’re ready to talk about what hurt you, Asra will listen carefully and try to find a solution, if there is one. If someone hurt you, that’s a different case. He would be angry. Most likely he will confront them or cast a bad luck spell on them. If it was your own mental problems, he would spend hours trying to compliment you.

He understands that sometimes it’s best to just let your emotions out, so he tells you it’s okay to cry.

However, if you were crying over something stupid, like you dropped a slice of bread, he would laugh. You scared him and he’s just happy that everything is okay. And it was funny.

Makes you some tea afterwards. Even feeds you some chocolate if you want to.

Nadia

“Darling, are you in… Oh.”

Nadia is utterly confused and surprised. That was the last thing she expected when she started looking for you.

If you were lying on the bedroom floor crying, she’ll make you sit on the bed so you’ll be more comfortable. She doesn’t mind if you don’t want to tell her what’s wrong right away. Nadia sits down next to you and calmly waits for you to stop crying. If you want a hug, she will gladly hold your trembling form.

She whispers sweet nothings in your ear to help you calm down.

“It’s okay, darling. Cry it out.”

When you’re ready to talk, she gives you her full attention. She doesn’t mind if you take big pauses between sentences. You’ve probably never seen her so focused before. If you tell her someone hurt you, she’ll ask if you want to put that person behind bars. Whatever the answer is, the person will get punishment for their actions. If it’s stress or something else, she’ll try to find a solution to your problem.

She doesn’t mind if you want to stay in bed all day. She understands that and lets you rest. However, she tries to stay with you as long as possible.

Get’s you anything you need. Food? New clothes? A new pet, perhaps? She’ll get you one. If it makes you happy, she’s cool with it.

If you want to stay with her, even if she has a meeting, she’ll gladly let you come. Will tell the courtiers/royalties that you are welcome here and if they mind you, the door is over there.

When the two of you are alone again, she will kiss you and tell you that she will do everything she can to make sure you are not sad again.

Julian

Uh oh

His first thought is that he fucked up and now you’re crying because of him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he runs to your side and asks what’s wrong and if he caused it.

When you don’t answer him for minutes, he gets worried, but he respects your boundaries, so he tries to hug you and let you cry on his shoulders. If you want him to leave, he leaves, but probably stops at your door. He tries to remember everything you did that day that could have made you so upset.

Most likely, he is overthinking the whole situation.

When you are willing to talk to him, he will sit down like a little kid and listen to you. If someone hurt you, he will ask for their name to confront the person and probably get beat up by them. If it’s something else, he’ll immediately ask if you need medical help. Even if you say no, he will remember to ask again if this happens more than once.

If you need a hug, he will happily cuddle with you on the couch/bed. His first priority right now is the person he loves the most, which is you. That’s why he wants to stay with you all day.

He gets you food and water and peacefully waits for you to finish your meal.

He uses his comedic acting skills to make you laugh. Julian even puts on a little show for you. He plays every single character, of course. When Julian plays a female character, he tries to make his voice a little higher and tucks his hair behind his ears. If that doesn’t make you laugh, he’s lost.

“Do you, uh…. wanna go to Mazelinka’s house for some soup?”

Julian is genuinely trying to make you happy, even if he has to make a fool of himself. He’ll do it for you.

Portia

“OH MY GOD! MC, what happened?! Are you okay?!”

Portia runs to you and immediately hugs you. She tries to calm you down by rubbing your back and whispering to you that everything will be okay. She lets you cry on her shoulders and waits patiently for you to open up about it.

If you want her to leave, she looks at you with puppy eyes, but eventually gives you some time alone.

She immediately runs to the kitchen to get you some sweets and water. Even gets some warm blankets so you can cuddle them. When Portia gets back to your room, she quietly opens the door and slides in the things she got for you. Then she immediately closes it again and waits for you outside.

When you don’t answer for minutes, she runs to Nadia and explains the situation, asking if she could be free today to be with you. She is understanding of the situation and lets Portia be with you. Once she hears the answer, she runs back to you.

Pepi somehow got in and rubbed her head against your leg to cheer you up. She won’t leave you alone until you stop crying.

When you are ready to talk about what happened, Portia will sit down on the bed with you. She is very worried, but tries to smile for you. If you tell her that someone hurt you, she is ready to slam that person to the floor. Portia really wants to do something, but if she can’t confront said person, she will try to talk to Nadia about it. If it’s something else, she’ll try to get whatever you need right now.

She may even take you to the kitchen to bake something with her. She tries to make it fun by throwing a little flour at you.

Helps you brush your hair (if you have any) and compliments you on how nice it is.

Prepares a bath for you and if you want her to join in, she’ll gladly do it.

Muriel

This man deadass froze at the sight of your tears.

He was so surprised that he forgot he had just walked in on you.

Slowly he approaches you and tries to hug you very gently. Muriel doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you, especially when you’re crying. He quietly asks you what’s wrong and tries to rub your back to reassure you.

If you want him to leave, he’s a little taken aback, but nods and walks out to give you some space. While you’re in there, he picks you some flowers. He only picks the prettiest ones because he thinks they’re the only ones that fit you.

When he comes back and sees Inanna whimpering at the door, he gives her the flowers and lets her in. She walks right up to you and drops the flowers in your lap. She then puts her head in your hand and lets out a small whimper.

As soon as you are ready to talk about it, Inanna runs to the door and scracthes it, signaling to Muriel to enter. He slowly sits down next to you, takes your hands in his, and asks what happened. If it turns out that someone hurt you, he’s really angry and promises that he won’t leave you alone from now on. May or may not ask Asra to curse the person. If it’s something else, he feels really bad and tries to help you get through it.

When you’ve completely calmed down, he takes you to his favorite place in the forest. He shows you all the plants and animals that live there and tries to explain why they are important.

If you want to watch the sunset, he takes you to the best spot he knows. Sits you down and waits for the sun to set. You may look at the sun, but he will look at you and tell you that you are beautiful while he blushes.

When you are both done, he grabs your hand and walks back to his hut.

He will cuddle with you once you are in the hut.

(Something that probably happened and made you cry: “Muriel… I accidentally stepped on Inanna’s tail and now she doesn’t want to come near me…”)

Lucio

Worried face™

“Why are you crying? What happened?!”

Lucio is so damn scared.

At first he doesn’t quite know what to do, but when he finally realizes he should reassure you, he walks up to you and hugs you. Lucio places gentle kisses on every inch of your skin or where you allow him to. He uses his baby voice (the one everyone uses on animals and babies) and tries to tell you that everything is okay.

If you want him to leave, he huffs a little but walks out of the room. Once he’s out, he immediately runs to find Mercedes and Melchior so they can be with you if he can’t.

The servants only see a panicked Lucio running towards the garden and then back to your room with two dogs following him.

He lets the dogs in, hoping they can calm you down a bit. When he’s alone again, Lucio goes all over the palace ordering each servant to get you your favorite foods, sweets, drinks, clothes, anything he can think of at the moment.

Lucio comes back to your room and waits rather impatiently for you to open the door. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he’s just anxious.

When you are ready to let him in, he literally bursts in and runs to you. He sits down in front of you with wide eyes and gives you his full attention. If you tell him that someone dared to hurt you, he already runs to them with his sword drawn out. It takes a while to explain to him that he can’t do that. He’ll still throw them in the dungeon and you can’t stop him. If the reason you cried is something else, he’ll let you rant about it and make little notes in his head to make your life easier.

Takes you to the garden when you finally calm down. Goes to a tree and tries to fight it for you. Just so you can laugh, he loses to it and dramatically falls to the ground screaming that it hurts so much and he dies.

After you smile, he sits down next to you and tells you his wonderful stories while cuddling with the dogs.

Morga

She just stands there looking down at you for a minute. You probably didn’t hear her come in.

At first Morga doesn’t know what to do, because all she had to deal with was a couple of people crying, which probably wasn’t her husband. Morga sighs softly and kneels down to you.

mother senses intensifies

She tries to say something, but decides it’s better if she doesn’t. She places a hand on your shoulder and begins to rub it. As you snuggle closer to her, she puts the spear away and hugs you. She won’t say anything until you are ready to talk. If you ask her to leave, she nods, gets up, and goes hunting.

Morga may not show it, but she is genuinely concerned for you. You’re living with her in the middle of the snowy forest, so you have to be physically and mentally strong.

“Probably something really bad happened and that’s why they’re crying.” she mutters.

She couldn’t bear to look at her son while he was crying, so it was hard for her to act tough while you weren’t doing well.

In the end, she thinks about everything that could have happened and tries to find a solution before you’ve told her anything.

Jaeger waits for you on a tree next to your door so he can tell Morga if you’re ready to talk.

When Jaeger signals her, Morga comes right back and goes inside. She kneels down, looks deep into your eyes, and asks what’s wrong. She can see that something really hurt you, so she sits down, takes off her cape and puts it around you.

If you tell her someone hurt you (even though you thought the two of you lived here alone), Morga clenches her jaw. The look in her eyes tells everything. She doesn’t run off like Lucio, but she’s definitely going to try and hunt the person down. If you’re struggling with something else, she nods acknowledgingly and tries to find a solution for you.

You can relax for the rest of the day, though she’ll probably want to get her chores done. If you really want her to stay with you, she’ll eventually give in and take you to your bed to lay down with you.

Achievement Unlocked: Soft Morga

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

Text

Liar

Word count: 1,9K

Warning: angst, kinda messy writing, bad grammar

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

You were always a hopeful person. Trying to be positive no matter what. Seeing the good in people. Even in Loki.

You first met him in his glass cell in helicarier (a/n i have no idea how to spell it, it's that big flying thing in Avengers 1). You two talked and got to know eachother. He told you how his father lied to him, how Thanos tortured him and how he doesn't want to hurt anyone. You believed him. And promised him he will be okay.

Two years after the battle of New York you finally talked to your team mates. You made an entire power point presentation for Avengers to show them Loki is not evil anymore and they should at least give him a chance, like you did.

That's how you and Loki became close friends. Always spending time with the other one, talking about your interests, your cultures, books, movies, anything the both of you came up with.

You comforted him, when he had nightmares. He cuddled you when you watched horror movies and got scared.

He always came to you for advice and opinion and you were more than happy to help your best friend. He always hugged you afterwards as thanks.

Sometimes he even brought you a cake and some flowers, just because he 'felt like it'.

One rainy day he fall asleep on your lap in your room. As you played with his black silky hair you realized you don't view him as your best friend anymore. But as a crush. You felt a shy blush come up to your cheeks as you imagined how would it feel like to cuddle him whole night, to be held by him, kissed by him.

You caressed his cheek and hoped one day he would feel the same.

And as always, you became hopeful. You started to remember all those times he was very close with you, doing something only couples do (like the afore mentioned cuddling, falling asleep on your lap or even the freaking flowers) and hoping he is developing feelings for you.

You were wrong.

You remember that day clearly. It was nice and sunny outside. A perfect day for a walk in the park. You walked out from your room and started looking for Loki. You wanted to have a walk with him.

You heard some voices coming from the kitchen below. Including a velvety one you knew all too well.

You jumped down those 20 stairs. Voices got louder as you came closer. There was Loki and some woman in the kitchen. And nobody else. Your name fell from one of their mouth's.

Quiet as a mouse you stood behind the corner just outside the kitchen and listened.

"Don't tell me she's not annoying! She's practically your shadow and trails after you like a lost puppy. And not even a cute one!" the woman giggled. From her tone of voice you imagined her as a classical blond plastic fake gold digger. You expected Loki to stood up for you, like any good friend would.

He only chuckled. "You are right! She is always behind my back. So bothersome and clingy..." you heard gulping. Maybe they were drinking some alcohol. You prayed for him to be just drunk and not knowing what he's saying.

"So why do you keep her around so much?"

A moment of silence. "I don't really know. For fun, I suppose? She was only good for me to get out of prison. She's so naive to really think I am her friend it's hilarious!"

You couldn't breathe. You stood there like a statue. He was only manipulating you and playing with you. All this time.

Tears clouded your vision as you walked away from them. The whole world looked like a big grey blur to you.

You still went out. Better than stay in the same building with him. Sitting on a bench in the nearby park, listening to birds chirping and watching dogs play with their owners was somewhat comforting. The pain in your chest was still too big though. How could you trust someone who's a 'God of Mischief' or a 'Prince of Lies' of all people? He really did go out of his way to make you trust him, didn't he? All those gifts, hugs, hanging out, watching movies under one blanket. All of that was just him pretending. And you believed him.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. You're friends with spies and trained soldiers, what if they're pretending just like him and they secretly love when you aren't with them? What if everytime you talk to them they secretly wish for you to shut up and leave? Paranoia and anxiety just won't leave you, will they?

"It will get better after high school they said," you stood up from the bench, "you will be more confident they said. My ass-" suddenly you tripped over a string and fell on your face. Your right cheek stung, your knees were scraped. As you were standing up a wet tongue started to lick your face. A golden retriever's way to greet you, apparently.

"Ollie, stop! I'm so sorry," the dog was yanked back by his leash. Ollie's owner held out his hand to help you stand up.

"It's okay. It's my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," you dusted your clothes when you were finally on your legs. Ollie was jumping up and down, still trying to lick your face. Even through your emotional pain you couldn't resist and smiled.

"He's still an untrained pup, sorry if he's bothering," the unknown man was trying to calm him down once again, but you stopped him.

"He's not bothering," you bent down and scratched behind his ears. "Hi there little fella, aren't you one cute boy? Yes you are," you scratched and caressed his fur.

"He is cute, but quite handful. Still I wouldn't exchange him for anyone in the world."

"Anyone?" you asked.

"Yeah, you see I got him when I found out my partner cheated on me. I felt so betrayed I thought I'll never trust anyone else again," he said and sat down on the bench you were previously sitting on. "Sorry, I'm telling way too much than I should."

"No, it's okay. I know exactly how you felt. Something similair happened to me too," you looked away sadly and stopped scratching Ollie's fur. "That's why you got a dog? To replace that somebody who was previously in your life?"

He nodded. "At first I though I needed a pet to distract myself from the pain, but in reality all I needed was a life long friend who will never betray me. And what's better than a man's best friend?" he hugged his goldie and he licked his face.

You smiled. Maybe that's what you need. A loyal dog to keep you company. To give you emotional support through cuddles and to never leave you or lie to you. Unlike certain someone.

You chatted with him for few more minutes and then made your way to the nearest dog shelter.

The cutest little fluffy german shepherd was dozing off in your arms when you walked into your room. You naivly thought Loki will greet you and pretend to be nice again but he was nowhere to be found. Actually, none of the Avengers were nearby. 'That's okay' you thought. 'I'll at least be alone with this cute guy.'

You let him run around your bedroom, sniffing every corner of his new home, chewing on everything he could reach with his tiny snout. You threw him some of the squeeky toys you bought and watched him play. It lifted your mood, somewhat.

The dull ache from your chest didn't leave. Even when it got dark outside and your new companion dozed off in your lap. Soft laughter was coming from the party deck, which was quite far from your room so in reality it must've been much louder.

'So they returned, huh? Didn't even check on their supposed friend' you thought. Maybe you were right afterall. They never concidered you a friend.

Your phone started buzzing, a silly selfie of you and Loki lightened up the screen. 'What does he want? I don't wanna talk to him.'

You picked up. "Yeah?"

"Y/N!" hearing his voice nearly made you cry. "Thank Norns you finally picked up! Where are you?"

You squinted your eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

"I've been trying to reach you all afternoon! I couldn't find you anywhere and I have called you 5 times already. Are you okay?" he sounded worried. He really should've been voice actor.

"5 times? I didn't hear anything."

He groaned. "Yes, 5 damn times. You made me really sick with worry."

Liar.

"Whatever. I can do things even without you, you know."

"Why the attitude?" he asked a little less worried.

"You know what Loki? Do me a favour and leave me alone," you hung up sooner than your voice could crack. Silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

As you were standing up with the little pup in your hands and putting him in his bed Loki practically smashed down your door. You jumped back startled and nearly let go of your little friend who woke up and started barking.

"What the fuck Loki?!"

He looked at you, mix of fury and happiness in his eyes. "Okay, I don't know what I did that made you react like that to a simple 'where have you been the whole day' but you could've at least tell me you were going out. What if someone attacked you? And I wasn't there? What if-" he took a deep breath, anger leaving his eyes. "I'm just glad you are home and safe."

Liar.

Your puppy stopped barking and started wagging his tail, excited to have a new friend. He is just like you. Naive.

"Oh, and who is this little bundle of fur?" he reached out to pet his tiny head but you backed away.

"He's my new best friend. This is Rex."

Loki's face turned into confusion. "Darling, I thought that's my title," he laughed awkwardly.

You glared and hugged Rex to your chest. "Not anymore. Not after what I discovered about you."

"Discovered about me? What are you talking about?"

"Drop the act. I heard you. I heard you saying how I'm naive enough to think I'm your friend, how I'm bothersome and clingy and I was only good for you to get out of prison!" tears were flowing freely but you didn't care.

"Darling, what are yo-"

"I wasn't finished! I really thought you were honest with me. I thought all those times we hung out meant something to you! That you at least respect me. But no! You used me. You were pretending to be nice. All those times! And I believed you!" you started taking steps towards him, he was backing away.

"You misunderstood, I-"

"No! I don't want you to tell me anything! I'm not your plaything anymore! I grew a spine. And you can bet your ass I'm training Rex to bite you whenever you get close to me again!" his eyes started glistening but that must be just your imagination.

"Love, please let me ex-"

"Get lost Laufeyson," with those words you slammed your door in his face.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki angst #loki x reader angst #loki x you #angst

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jeogiyall · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Pains; Song Mingi

Word count; 21.5k

Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely

Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “

Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong

Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol

A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!

It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years.

But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.

“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves.

“Oh it’s okay, um…”

“Mingi.”

“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.

“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time.

“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.

“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.

“Okay.”

The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.

But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.

“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.

And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.

You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.

“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.

“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them.

From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.

Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though.

The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.

“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted.

“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too.

“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them.

But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.

“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.

“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.

“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.

“Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.

The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food.

“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up.

“Yea.”

“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.

“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”

“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.

“Once or twice.”

The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’ narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.

When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow.

“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.

“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.”

“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding.

“Really.”

He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t.

“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.

“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.

“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.

“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil.

“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.

“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.

“Whatever you say.”

Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him.

But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.

It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm.

So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.

Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.

Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.

It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’

“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far.

“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses.

“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“You don’t have to, but-”

Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless.

“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.

“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years.

Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.

“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.

“That you look pretty.”

It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.

So it leaves an impression, to say the least.

Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity.

It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.

When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.

“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”

“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”

And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.

“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.

You have no reason to be upset.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.

Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.

The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa.

Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay.

Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’

After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.

You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.

Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class.

There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing.

It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it.

Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.

You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.

All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy.

San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things.

“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation.

‘This feels lonely.’

In a way, you suppose that it is.

“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.

“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.

“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely.

There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.

Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.

“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.

“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.

“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”

And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.

“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra.

“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.

“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.

“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside.

When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled.

“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet.

“I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...

If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year.

One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards.

Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.

But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings.

Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.

“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.

“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.

“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”

“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.

“It’s seven fifteen.”

“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.

“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.

“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.

“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange.

“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well.

“We’re taking a detour.”

“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.

“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers.

“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon.

“We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.

“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.

“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.

“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing.

“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing.

“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.

Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.

“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi.

You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete.

“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.”

“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.

“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?

Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.

There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph.

If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it.

Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him.

“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong.

“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.

They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths. Overall it’s not such a bad night.

When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.

“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.

“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.

“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.

Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.

So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.

Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle.

You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.

Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.

You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.

And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this?

When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now.

When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.

“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.

“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.

And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.

You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?

But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while.

This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises.

“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.

“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”

He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.

“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.

“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile.

When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.

“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”

“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.

But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon.

Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.

“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.

Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.

“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”

“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.

“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment.

“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.

“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.

You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.

“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”

The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.

A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.

“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard.

“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.

“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.

“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee?

“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”

“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.

“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear.

“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.

“No need to thank me, we’re friends.”

“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.

“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.

“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.

“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.

You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.

So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.

“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest.

“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-

“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.

“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.

“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.

“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it.

“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling.

“Mingi I-“

“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed.

“Mingi that's not what-“

“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.

“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever.

“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”

He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.

But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.

It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.

You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.

You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.

He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.

“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there.

“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster.

“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are.

“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.

Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”

And really, what are you supposed to say?

“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words.

“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you.

“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.

“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.

You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.”

He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.

Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.

The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least.

The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.

“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees.

“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”

“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.

“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump.

“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.

“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.

“I never said that you aren’t good.” You breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around.

“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.

“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go.

“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.

“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over.

And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well.

Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with.

It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute.

You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi.

When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback.

Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly.

It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun.

Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.

Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”

“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to.

“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.

“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.

“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.

“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.

But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.

You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop.

Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.

The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.

You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.

“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”

“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”

“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.

“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.

“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.”

A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’

The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.

But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight�� Mostly about tonight.

You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.

“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out.

“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead.

“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore.

“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand.

The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.

“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.

“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?”

The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.

You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.

“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.

“It sounds lovely.”

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t.

Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.

“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”

You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.

You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?

“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.

You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.

You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.

His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.”

You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.

“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.

“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”

“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.

“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.

“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.

“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied.

“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide.

“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows.

Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room.

“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you.

“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”

“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”

When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.

‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’

It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.

After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.

You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.

There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth.

That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.

But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.

He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car.

“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.

“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.

“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.”

The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.

The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.

“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.

“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.

“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.

“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.

“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.”

Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.

You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.

“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either.

“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”

“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.

“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.

You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.

“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.

“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.

“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does.

“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand.

“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again.

He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.

When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.

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cotccotc · 5 years ago

Text

┈┈ 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 *:･ﾟ

✩ ot8 reaction headcannon, 2.5k words (eek sorry)

✩ genre/s: **fluff**, humor, established relationship, ot8 x gender neutral!reader

✩ warning/s: MOBILE TUMBLR HATES ME (some gifs & author’s note might not appear),,,, my terrible sense of humor/commentary, a couple of them are suggestive if you s q u i n t

✩ a/n: idk if the concept makes any sense but it does in my mind \_( ‘-’ )_/ also seungmin’s part is the exact same kinda similar to a brief scenario in my txt soobin “brightest blue” fic... but it’s fineee. also i’m sorry that some are longer than others! enjoy :))

chan:

chan is definitely extremely interested in the music you listen to.

in fact, sometimes he’d probably insist that you show him your current playlist from start to finish lol.

i can imagine y’all hanging out at the dorms, maybe even mid-cuddle, listening to some of your recent favorites.

but there’s this ONE SONG--

your absolute JAM

you get up from your seat or the bed and start completely jamming out.

he stays where he is so he can watch you have the time of your life.

i guess nobody told him you’re a professional lip syncer… awk...

you grab a hairbrush and hold it up like it’s a microphone.

honestly you’re thriving,,

he’s kinda stunned. not in a bad way, but he’s just so mezmorized by how cute (and maybe a lil sexy) you are when you dance like no one’s watching.

there’s a particularly awesome beat drop toward the end of the song, which leads you to do some equally awesome head banging.

he’s cackling at this point, which drives you to act even sillier.

*ending pose*

once the song ends and you’re trying to catch your breath, he slowly starts clapping for you.

“the song was great, but the performance was even better,” he’d say, coming off a bit sarcastic. but he means well!

you start to get a bit self-conscious and shy as you put yourself together again.

he’ll try to comfort you, standing up to wrap you in a hug.

“don’t be embarrassed!” (cue soft chan),

“baby that was awesome”,

“you should join a rock band!”, etc.

overall, he’d love it when you share your music taste, and this event will probably set off a chain reaction of similar jam sessions in the future.

minho:

ok so we all know minho’s a cat person, blah blah blah...

but what if you got super excited about a really cute dog?

let’s say you’re on a walk at a park, holding hands, and talking.

all of a sudden you see someone walking their dog…

and when i tell you this is the cutest, tiniest dog on the face of the earth,,,

you immediately stop walking and squeeze minho’s hand. you point to the dog and start freaking out because it’s so cute.

he’d say something silly like, “what are you talking about? it looks like a rat.”

you disregard it because you’re just so excited about this puppy!

“can we pet it?” you ask.

“... fine” he replies, smiling at you, despite his attempts to act uninterested.

y’all go over to the woman walking her dog and ask if you can pet the puppy. when she says you can pet him, you immediately sit on the ground, ready to have the best puppy playdate of your life.

minho’s still standing, watching you with loving eyes.

of course, you start talking to the puppy as if he’s a baby. minho laughs, trying to stifle all the uwus emanating from his heart

the puppy climbs onto your lap and licks your face just a little bit.

you look up at minho with wide eyes, saying “awww, isn’t he so cute!”

he’d playfully roll his eyes because why would he cheat on cats like that…

then you tug on his hand, motioning for him to sit with you. he does, reluctantly.

you place the puppy on his lap to see what happens.

the dog loves him! (of course, because what living thing wouldn’t love lee minho?)

the puppy is licking minho all over as he makes faces of disgust and struggles to pull him away.

you laugh out loud, happier than ever at the two very good boys in front of you.

he smiles again, completely endeared with your excitement despite being covered in puppy spit...

so, it doesn’t matter what kinds of animals you two prefer, since you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. (aww)

changbin:

i feel like changbin is the type to not be ashamed of/shy about showing you the songs he’s writing.

...except for right now.

he just got home from the studio, dropping his bag onto a table… but some papers fall out.

you attempt to grab the papers, but changbin stops you and grabs them himself instead with a subtle hint of nervousness.

pretty suspicious if you ask me.

“what’s up?” you ask, a bit confused about what just happened.

he’d try to play it off like nothing suspicious was going on, but you know his poker face.

it’s too cute not to notice.

he likes to play all tough but you (and everyone else tbh) know him better than that.

you go to grab the papers, but he steps away. you try again… and again, and again, and again.

you become increasingly more frustrated and impatient with each attempt, until changbin holds them up high in the air where you can’t reach them. he has a look on his face that says ‘haha! gotcha!’

you’ve never done this much jumping in your life.

but you’re not a quitter.

“okay… i give up,” you say, returning to a stationary position and placing your arms around his neck.

however, just as he lowers his hands to your waist, you snatch the papers!

“AHA!” you exclaim.

all he can say is “damn it!” as you scramble to the couch with the papers in your hand. you sit facing away from him, attempting to speed-read the lyrics sprawled across the pages.

he follows you to the couch, trying to take the papers back from behind.

“binnie, these are so good!!”

“thanks… but were they worth betraying your innocent boyfriend?”

“yes. every word.” you finally hand him back the papers with a smirk.

he’d curse under his breath, ditching the papers in favor of tickling you instead.

what a terrible punishment!

hyunjin:

we all know hyunjin is a drama queen,,

you can be a bit of a dramatic person yourself (who isn’t?).

so when you lose your favorite sweater, you’re immediately going on a wild goose chase around the dorms, because that’s where you had it last.

you’re practically talking to yourself. double checking everywhere you’d been. retracing your steps like a mad person.

you need this sweater!!

you let out a little “urgh!” as you begin getting frustrated.

hyunjin would ask what’s wrong, and when you tell him, he’d GASP.

he’d be like:

“have you checked under the bed?”

“the couch?”

“what about over here?”

“over there?”

this boy will not REST until the sweater is back in your possession, wasting no time in matching your level of concern/dramatics...

… if not exceeding it.

y’all have practically torn the whole room apart at this point.

until finally, you find it in a random drawer (of course smh)

“I FOUND IT!” you’d exclaim, flopping onto the bed and putting the sweater on,

to which you’d receive a “YAY!” in return

tired and leaning against a wall, he’d say something like, “thank GOD! now, why do you need it so bad?”

and you’d simply and softly respond, “... i got chilly~”

he wouldn’t give a verbal response, but his face would go from relaxed to ‘bruh’.

you knew he’d be shocked at your statement, but you choose to tease him instead with a smile.

he would then opt to tackle you in the bed, fumbling with the covers and vowing to make you as warm as humanly possible.

jisung:

jisung definitely loves showing you the music he’s been working on, just like changbin.

except… this time, the lyrics aren’t necessarily what you’re used to hearing.

you can tell jisung’s a bit nervous as he presses play, choosing to keep his eyes on the floor as he nods his head to the rap.

you’re listening intently, as curious and excited as you are every other time…

but then you realize that it’s about you……

the lyrics talk about letting someone into his life and his longing to be even closer to that person than he is now.

therefore,,,, u w u

you giggle, which prompts him to look up at you almost immediately with anticipation about your reaction.

you decide to wait until the end of the song to react, but you can already feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

the song ends, and you’re sitting in silence alongside jisung. “so… what did you think?”

“well… i think…” you trail off, looking into jisung’s eyes.

with a bit of a squeal you leap up from your seat and essentially attack him.

you straddle his legs (don’t get any *ideas* this is FLUFF for goodness sake) and wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into a big hug.

“i love it, baby. so, so, so, much,” you respond quickly and genuinely.

he laughs, his arms wrapping around you.

he’d probably remark, “you scared me for a second!”

you laugh in response, apologizing for your delayed reaction.

deep down, he’d feel so relieved that you liked the song and its sentiment.

he’d also be so happy to have you, his overexcited sweetheart, in his arms.

however, at the surface, he’d prefer to tease you. “next time, don’t make me wait so long!”

felix:

ok so y’all send memes and tik toks back and forth all day every day. it’s just protocal.

also,,, you could literally be in the same room, and he’d still just start sending you tik toks he’d saved just to send to you and see your reaction.

but there’s this o n e

you can’t quite explain why but when you watch the tik tok that your boyfriend sent you from across the couch, you laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before.

whatever humor you may have, this tik tok completely encompasses it in a beautiful, stupid way.

before you know it, you begin cackling.

felix knows that you’ve always been a bit embarrassed of your laugh (who isn’t, right?), so when you start letting loose he’s a bit caught off guard.

still, he joins in (at a smaller scale, of couse).

he always wants to see you happy, but this is a whole new level of cuteness in his eyes.

your laughter subsides a bit...

until you decide to watch the tik tok again.

believe it or not, it’s even funnier the second time!

you double over, laughing so hard that no sound is even coming out of your mouth.

“are you okay?!” he’d ask, laughing harder now at your actions.

he’d put his arms around you so he could hold you up.

you’d mouth out a “no” in response.

there are practically tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

he’d continue looking down at you with a beaming smile, holding you up until your laughter comes to a full stop.

“was it really that funny? i can’t even make you laugh like this.”

you’re almost dazed, your stomach hurting (in the best way possible). you try to steady your breathing.

after a few seconds of recovery, he’d whisper in your ear with a deep, silly voice...

“...wanna watch it again?”

it’s safe to say you won’t fully recover for a while.

seungmin:

on days off, you watch dramas with seungmin to take both of your minds off of work/school/whatever’s been keeping you busy.

however… of course you can’t go a whole episode without laughing hysterically, and it’s all because of seungmin.

it could be the most dramatic, intense, or heartbreaking scene in the show but he would make it into a full blown impersonation comedy routine.

ESPECIALLY if the drama is in a foreign language.

this boy will reinact all of the subs in the stupidest way possible.

but, today he’s a bit exhausted, snuggling up against you and not saying much.

our boys work too hard :(( (but wbk)

...so you decide to take his place.

you start off kind of hesitantly, waiting to see if he’d even react. when the main characters start to have an argument, you begin reading the subtitles in a silly voice.

you hear a soft giggle from your boyfriend has be tightens his arm’s grip around your waist.

you begin to use different voices for each of the two characters, alternating between a nasly, high pitched one and a lower one with voice cracks. this makes seungmin laugh harder, going from a giggle to his usual open-mouthed chuckle.

he’s so cute >_< ,,anyways…

as the scene intensifies, so does the volume of your impersonations.

“yOu’Ve bEtRaYeD mE!”

“BuT yOu LiEd tO mE!”

at this point seungmin is cackling despite his heavy eyes and unwillingness to move. he’d be so caught up in your routine that he’d forget he was even tired.

you look up at him to see that big smile and those sparkly eyes you love so much, which motivates you to be even goofier!

you sit up, leaving seungmin’s grasp. you begin making hand gestures to match your overdramatic tone.

the scene comes to a climax, in which you recite the final line with more ferver and fake passion than ever before. you finish it off with a fist in the air for ~emphasis~.

as you hold this pose, you hear your loyal audience member begin to cheer for you. he claps, whisper-shouting “ahh” to create fake crowd noises.

“what a show!” he would commend you with an expression of sarcastic awe on his face.

you’re really glad you decided to cheer him up…

but not nearly as glad as he is to have you with him on a day like this.

jeongin:

jeongin’s smile could literally melt anyone’s heart. everybody knows this.

i don’t care who you are, if you see jeongin smile, you either smile or cry and there are no other options.

i don’t make the rules.

so, when he shows you the ‘lovestay’ version of his latest dance practice, you’re bound to go insane with adoration.

as soon as his solo comes up and the camera zooms in on his sweet, smiling face, you give his cheek a little poke

you say, “that’s you!”

“shut up,” he’d respond, giggling.

“wait, i missed something,” you say with a sense of urgency. you take the phone from his hands, rewinding a few seconds.

he’d roll his eyes at you, getting a bit shy.

you resume the video until the boy in the video holds up a finger heart, at which point you press pause.

“look how cute!” you exclaim, looking up at jeongin and pointing back and forth between him and the screen.

“stop it!” he’s blushing (and you’re screaming internally at how cute he is) as he tries to refrain from making a big smile.

you poke his side, resulting in a small fit of laughter that forces his bright grin to peek out.

he swats your hand away, putting his arm around you

(partly to show his affection and partly to make you hold still)

you place your head onto his shoulder, resuming the video for the final time. “you’re too cute. i can’t help it.”

“but you’re the cutest...” he murmurs, almost inaudibly to someone who isn’t as close to him as you are now.

heat rises in your face.

you: “...stop…”

him: “hah!”

touché...

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 6

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 6

Chapter Summary: More of a filler chapter, not much Henry, I’m sorry.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, pregnancy, poor self image, bad coping mechanisms, low self esteem.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5}

"I already told you, Faye! I don't want anything to do with this!"

"So because I want to keep my babies, you're leaving me? Is that what you're trying to tell me, David?"

"Yes! Shit, I knew you were dumb, but seriously!"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you deaf too, whore? How do you even know I'm the one that knocked you up? You've slept with just about every guy in town!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Don't come crying to me later! You're nothing without me! No one is ever going to want you. Especially once you have kids. Who the hell wants used goods? Have fun living a life of regret!"

Faye jerked awake, her head spinning as she tried to catch her bearings. Did David really leave her just like that? Sure he wasn't the greatest, but he had never lashed out like that before. At least not where anyone else could witness it.

No. David's gone. He has been gone for almost four years now. New life. Starting over. It's all in the past now.

Have to get the baby up before the sitter comes. Work is coming up soon. Life goes on.

"Briar, what are you doing on the floor?" Faye chuckled, crouching down next to her daughter, curled up on her pillow by her bed.

"I'm a puppy." Briar yawned in explanation, holding her arms up to be lifted, promptly licking her mother's cheek as soon as she was up.

"Briar, we talked about licking people."

"I'm not Briar, I'm puppy."

"Ok then, puppy, no licking people. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Puppy food."

"Cereal it is."

Feed the toddler, quick shower, get dressed, throw her hair up away from her face, wait for the baby sitter, hugs and kisses goodbye, then off to work. The usual routine she had settled herself into.

Feed the baby, because she's hungry and she comes first.

Shower, because she probably has some sort of mystery goo on her from the toddler.

Get dressed, avoid the mirror. No one wants to be reminded of how much they've changed. The softness she wasn't used to around her lower stomach, hips and thighs. Her breasts no longer as perky as they used to be. The stretchmarks competing with her tattoo's for attention.

Then, the hardest part of the day. "Ok, Briar, Mrs. Anderson is here. Mommy has to go to work. I love you."

"I love you too, Mommy." Briar responded, hugging her mother tight and kissing her cheek before she was sat back down.

"Have a nice day, Miss Warren."

"I hope she's not too much to handle."

"Never is."

Some days, Faye likes to pretend she's ok. Like she has a handle on things. Like she knows what she's doing and not just blindly stumbling through her life while trying to do right by her daughter.

Other days, she would absently push her sleeves up and her eye would catch on the black lines decorating her forearm, just below her elbow. Some days she's reminded that life is a bitch, and you can't always get what you want. On those days she tried to stay out of her own head, though that rarely worked.

She could slap on a smile with the best of them, but she could never force it to reach her eyes. Her face always remained an open book, free for anyone to read. The past creeps up on you. There's nothing you can do to stop it some days. On a bad day, the ghosts of the past will haunt your mind, echoing the worst days of your life into the void of your shattered heart.

"No one is ever going to want you!"

"You're nothing without me!"

"Who wants used goods?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Warren. There was nothing we could do."

Over and over on a seemingly never ending loop, reminding her of the darkest times in her life.

Why would anyone want her? She's not the same hot twenty six year old she used to be. She was soft. She was saggy. She would never be as attractive as she used to be. Anyone in their right mind would turn around and run once they realized how much she had let herself go.

Days like today were best spent keeping people at a distance. Tell them some story about being tired. Avoid anyone that is going to call her out on her obvious lie. Therein lies the problem with dying your hair obnoxious colors. Among a sea of blonde and brunette, powder blue tends to stick out and make it almost impossible to vanish.

Lie your way out of it. Survive another day. Tomorrow might not be better, but at least it won't be the same.

"Mommy, you're back!" The sweetest sound she could hear all day.

"I always come back, my little love." Faye assured, kissing her daughter's head.

Need to care for the baby. She comes first. She deserves the world. Play time. Dinner time. Bath time. Story time. Bed time. The same after work routine she had established months ago when she decided to drop everything and run.

Her daughter thought the world of her. She would do anything to see her smile. She would wear the stupid costume. She would pretend to be a horsey. She would let her daughter use her as a jungle gym. She would make the same dinner again for the third night in a row for her. So what if she soaked the bathroom floor during bath time? She was a mermaid, and she wanted to show off her tail. Story time, always an adventure with her imaginative little girl. What world would they find themselves in today? Dinosaurs? Princesses? Mythology? A rhyming book?

Ah, yes of course. Her current favorite, the book about the dinosaur cleaning his room. She was a girl obsessed with dinosaurs at the moment.

"Mommy, where's my Papa?" Briar asked, staring intently down at the page depicting a mother and father watching the dinosaur throw away paper scraps.

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He wasn't a nice man." Faye explained, resting her cheek on her daughter's head.

"Can I have a new Papa?"

"Maybe someday, sweetheart."

"Can Spider-man be my new Papa?"

"Why do you want Spider-man to be your new Papa?"

"He's my boyfriend!"

"That's not how it works, silly. If he's your boyfriend, he can't also be by boyfriend! Pick another hero!"

"Batman!"

"Well, he is rich." Faye mused, Briar giggling happily. "Now it's time for bed, my love."

"Ok, Mommy. I love you!"

"I love you too, Briar." Faye whispered, kissing her forehead. The nightlight was switched on and the door was left cracked open, just in case. Now for her seldom used free time.

Should she sketch some more? Finish that painting she started forever ago? Ever since she started a "real" job, her art had fallen by the wayside. She was too drained to do much after work and caring of her daughter.

Maybe some drawing will lift her spirits and keep the nightmares at bay tonight. But what to draw? Not in the mood for still life. Brain too fried for something straight from her imagination. Her usual model was sleeping, and her last few self portraits had been a serious blow to her ego. She just drew what she saw in the mirror. Then, when she was finished, she decided she should have worn more clothing before she drew herself. What was supposed to boost her confidence and empower her as a woman instead left her wondering when exactly she developed that roll when sitting in that position.

"Fuck it. I'm drawing a moose." Faye grumbled to herself, turning the page from her self portrait to a blank sheet. Half an hour later when she was trying to remember what a moose's antlers looked like, she finally picked up her phone. Seven unread messages? That seems like a lot. When was the last time she looked at her phone? Oh yeah, when she got home, five hours ago.

All from one person. So she wasn't ignoring everyone at least. Seven messages, all from Henry. Shit. That's not good.

Are you ok?

You seemed off on set today

You didn't even talk to me

Did you at least make it home alright?

Can you send me a sign of life?

I'm sorry if I upset you or something. Can you please talk to me? I'm genuinely worried.

Please?

Well, fuck. Here she was playing unicorn apocalypse with her daughter, and this poor guy was worrying himself to death.

Sorry, I was drawing a moose

Perfect way of saying "I wasn't ignoring you" while also avoiding his persistent questions about her wellbeing. The good old 'drawing a moose' excuse. Works every time.

I think your moose aged me by ten years. Are you ok?

Just had a bad day

Anything I can do to help?

Squeeze me until I stop struggling and my spine snaps

That's called 'murder' Miss Warren

I knew there was a name for it

Is there anything I can do for you that involves less prison?

Nah, if you're not going to take me out, then I'm not interested

I'm not going to take you out by murder. I will take you out on a date.

Faye froze, staring at her phone. He was just playing around, like he always did. No way he was serious. Henry liked to flirt, and she wasn't about to throw herself at him over a joke. She had more dignity than that. So how does she respond? She can't just ignore him, and taking forever to respond is going to give the impression that she was freaking out over what he said.

She was completely freaking out over what he had said, but he didn't need to know that. Was he just looking to get laid or something? Probably. He had gotten pretty close the last time he had been over. There's a difference between dating and screwing, though. He was probably just looking for someone to fuck while waiting for a woman worth his time to come along. Faye was broken out of her thoughts by her phone going off again, alerting her to a new message. Didn't he know she was busy having an existential crisis?

If you're free on Sunday you can come over and show me that moose your working on

*you're

Smart ass

Sunday?

I'll have to see if Mrs. Anderson can watch Briar

Bring her along. She keeps asking me about Kal

Pretty on brand for her

Sunday?

Sunday.

Sunday. What to wear on Sunday? He was probably looking for a little something something for his time, so something slutty? She got rid of all her slutty clothes after she had Briar in a fit of self hatred toward her new mom bod, so that was out. Besides, he wouldn't have invited Briar over too if he was looking to get laid.

So what does one wear on a casual 'date' these days? She had until Sunday to figure that out.

Tag List: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #guys like you #guys like you fic #triggering themes

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wheres-sam · 4 years ago

Text

I binge-watched the spn anime because of the brain rot

It’s bad except for the parts that are good, and it’s pretty to look at. Here’s a comprehensive list of pros and cons. Spoilers ahead!

Pros:

- more psychic kid backstories: Max (Nightmare), Lily (Darkness Calling), Jake (Loser)

- more psychic Sam

- more Azazel

- basically if you want more about the psychic/demon kids, watch the anime

- more young Winchesters

- the monsters, the superhuman abilities, the fight scenes, it all looks really cool animated. (But PSA it’s violent. It doesn’t shy away from blood and gore.)

- Sam and Jessica backstory

- more of the brothers being cute and funny together

- Missouri isn’t forgotten

- includes some Japanese legends/mythology

- the impala looks great in every scene. They did Baby good

- the “Supernatural” intro title

- the outro sketches of the boys hanging out with Baby

- Episodes adapted from the original show are different, but I like some of the changes? It’d be boring if it was an exact retelling and the visual medium wasn’t utilized. (I know I said spoilers before, but this is when they get detailed. If you wanna skip over, I’ll tell you where they STOP.)

Nightmare goes more into the abuse Max has suffered. Instead of locking Sam in a closet, Max sends Sam through the floor and covers the hole by breaking his bed in half, and it’s extremely sexy how Sam shoves the 2 halves apart with his mind. Later on Dean puts bandaids on Sam and they talk about demons loudly in front of a fast food intercom.

In My Time of Dying highlights the guilt Sam feels over Dean. In both the og and the anime John verbally blames Sam for not shooting Azazel, but where in the og Sam goes right on arguing, in the anime he reels back for a moment like he was slapped. Dean’s spirit touches Sam’s shoulder, and Sam knows immediately that it’s Dean. He doesn’t even question it. Instead of “Are you here?” it’s “I know you’re with me. I can feel it.” And I love that. Dean figures out right away he’s dealing with a reaper, and the reaper takes on the appearance of Mary to convince Dean to move on to the afterlife. Instead of a Ouija board, Sam uses a laptop to talk to Dean, and the first word Dean types is “Sammy!” Dean is so fond of his little brother and Sam is so baby.

Rising Son is an anime only episode, but it draws inspiration from John’s journal. Dean has a proper breakdown over his dad’s death and the possibility of having to kill Sam. Ms. Lyle, Sam’s favorite teacher who turns out to be possessed, is explored. John takes Dean hunting, and in the journal Dean hesitates to shoot a buck, and little Sam shoots it thinking it was endangering Dean. In the anime, Dean’s cornered by a moose and Sam makes it explode with his mind and it’s so !!! How little Sam’s first words are, “I’m glad you’re okay. It didn’t hurt you?” The boys are covered in blood and guts and Dean’s like 👁👄👁 “Why are you here? Did you do this?” And then Sam starts freaking out a little, the shock sets in. “I don’t know. I don’t know, honest.” And he’s staring at his hands, and I am a big fan of Sam showing superhuman signs as a kid. Like in the journal, Ms. Lyle tries to take Sam. She gives Sam the illusion of a choice to come with her or stay with Dean, and Sam chooses Dean. This ep is pretty much when John figures out Sam has demon blood. He kills another hunter that wants to kill Sam.

Crossroad is based on Crossroad Blues, and I love how the crossroads demon shows up. It’s hard to describe, but it’s so neat, like she’s walking underneath Dean in this mirror world, and then the mirror world takes over the regular world, so you really get this sense of otherworldly seclusion, existing outside of time.

What Is and Should Never Be shows Dean is a firefighter in his ‘Mary never died’ world, and Sam got to play soccer growing up like he wanted. The brothers hold each other after Dean is saved from the Djinn.

AHBL part 1. When Azazel shows Sam that he fed Sam his blood, Sam gags and slaps a hand over his mouth, and I like that reaction more than the live action. The psychic kids get to go more anime with their powers, and that’s a lot of fun. They don’t need weapons. Ava slams Sam into the brick side of a building and cuts him without touching him. Jake snaps Ava’s neck with one hand and then catches Sam in his arms. When Jake attacks Sam, there’s no gun or knife. He’s relying on his super strength, his fists. Sam throws his arms up to protect himself, and (accidentally?) pushes Jake back with his mind, and the collision creates a crater in the ground. Jake puts his fist through Sam’s chest to kill him. It’s brutal and it’s rad as fuck. These kids are terrifyingly powerful.

The Sam and Dean reunion before Sam is killed is not as emotional as the live action imo, but what the anime does intrigues me. Hurts in a different way. Because Sam is stunned after he uses telekinesis again, on Jake, and when he hears Dean behind him Sam freezes. He doesn’t look relieved to see Dean, but wary and weary. It’s Dean taking steps towards him, not the other way around, and it has to be because Sam doesn’t know if Dean saw him push Jake back. Sam doesn’t know how Dean’s going to respond to all this, to him, having powers that come from a demon, the demon, Azazel. Sam hasn’t had a chance to process anything. He’s scared. He’s tired. And the way the anime focuses on Sam’s eyes here. Gah. “Dean. Dean, I’m...” I’m sorry. I’m all right. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m a monster. There’s also this one shot between Sam and Azazel that sends me because of how anime it is.

AHBL part 2. I love how Sam brought back to life is animated, with all the color returning to his face and a light wind rustling his hair and his lips parting to indicate his soul returning to his body. Jake attacks Dean, and, a lot like how Sam activates telekinesis to save Dean from Max in Nightmare, Sam gets a burst of superhuman strength. He rips Jake’s arm off and tackles him to the ground and beats him to death, punches holes into his body, and it’s so savage and bloody and scary, and I love it. The Devil’s Gate opening looks so cool animated. Same goes for Dean shooting Azazel with the Colt.

Not to turn this into a meta post, but I also noticed how the last couple times Sam uses his powers they’re colored green-yellow, the same colors as Mary’s ghost when she reveals herself in the anime’s Home, and I don’t know if that’s intentional, but it’s neat how it draws a connection to Sam’s biological family instead of Azazel’s blood.

The Spirit of Vegas is like Bad Day at Black Rock, but Dean has all the bad luck instead, and it shows off the silly cartoony physics that make animation fun. The boys sleep outside and split a chunk of bread for dinner. Also this lil bit of Dean’s hair tied in a bow.

- (STOP) the brothers are pretty. I am not immune to animated Sam and Dean Winchester.

Cons:

- Jensen doesn’t voice Dean until the last 2 episodes

- The English dialogue is really bad sometimes. I wish I could’ve watched the sub, but I couldn’t figure out how to change the language

- Some character designs are really different from the live action, and maybe that’s petty, but if you’re gonna change the characters diversify them? Don’t just make them unrecognizable white people

- Missouri’s design as a stereotypical witch doctor is racist

- Gordon is replaced by some British guy named Jason?? Why

- There’s an LGBT character who is not accepted by her family and, while that bigotry is always shown to be negative and she dies the hero of the episode, she still dies ://

- In the English dub Lily’s gf is made into her roommate instead. Idk about the sub

- Bobby’s pretty much a totally different character

- Sam and Dean are OOC sometimes

- Dean’s hair usually looks darker than Sam’s and it drives me crazy

- The storytelling is, overall, not nearly as good as the live action

- The non-Japanese lore in some episodes makes no sense. Sometimes it’s just plain ridiculous?? Like there’s a giant robot made of cars and scrap metal controlled by a demon? ? I wish I was making this up

- Meg’s role is severely reduced

- No Harvelles or Roadhouse

- Shadows are overused, but maybe that’s because the og show is so dark?

- I don’t mind the art style. I like the aesthetic, but I wish it was a little more expressive. It doesn’t do Sam’s puppy eyes justice.

- AZAZEL’S SHADOW?? PROPORTIONS?? PEA SIZED HEAD

- Idk why they mashed season 1 and 2 together? The story feels rushed

- there’s not as much chemistry between Sam and Dean, but that’s a given without J2 on screen

- Nobody tells you!! That there’s scenes after the credits!! And some of them are important! Why are important scenes after the credits??

The anime would not be good on its own, without the heart and depth the live action brings, but it works as supplementary material you can cherry pick from. I would watch more if there were more episodes.

It hasn’t turned me off from wanting an spn anime. I’d like to see it continued or redone, with updated animation and better scripts. There’s a lot of potential in exploring more about the psychic kids and Sam’s powers, storylines that were cut short in the og show. Animation is a great medium for showing off the supernatural, getting creative and creepier with the designs, dramatic with the fight scenes, without having to worry about bad CGI. I don’t want a live action reboot, but I think a redone animated series could be a lot of fun! (As long as it’s not an excuse to make any romantic ships take over. SPN is a platonic love story, and I like it that way.)

If you made it to the end here and are interested in watching the spn anime, you can watch it for free on the CW Seed app! You can probably stream it elsewhere, but idk where!

#spn anime #supernatural #supernatural the anime #my detailed pros is pretty much me letting you know what episodes are worth watching #and why #its bad but I kind of like it #I like what they were going for. the potential it has #I like sam and there's lots of sam

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magicians-are-hot · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request the main 6 reacting to an apprentice that comes from our world?

I’ll give it a try! Thank you for being my second request btw!

and sorry for the massive waiting period

ASRA

He knew he was attracted to you for some reason

but to find out it was because you weren’t even from the same plane of existence as him was,,,,interesting to say the least

Oh but he doesn’t mind! In fact he wants to hear all about your world!

He’ll ask you all sorts of questions, but mostly silly things like “Do you have pumpkin bread there?”

He’d probably like the switch most if you bring items with you considering you can take it on the go

NADIA

It would take her by surprise.

But like Asra she’s not too freaked out about it. Nadia would sit you down for tea and clear an hour or two to talk about it.

Teach her our modern slang it will be hilarious

“S/O taught me this interesting word yesterday. What was it love? A Si- Siamp?? Am I saying that right-”

She’d probably like any mobile device, taking nice selfies or peaceful pictures of the garden

or of you

JULIAN

He’ll freak out a little bit. Just a little...

Julian just doesn’t understand how??you got here??

Don’t tell him it was magic, he’s already having a hard time without adding magic into the equation

Give him any- and I mean anything modern and he’ll find an interest in it.

“Ooooooooooh, what’s this S/O????”

“Julian that’s just an mp3 player...”

So interested, he’s like a puppy

It’s actually very cute

MURIEL

Ah god its hard to describe how he feels,,,

He doesn’t not care, but he also does???

Its complicated

Really Muriel just wants to know how your fitting in, he knows it can be tough being in a different place or in your case- a different world.

Give this man a Tamagotchi immediately

He’ll get really upset if he kills it though so watch out for that

PORTIA

So excited, I mean just bouncing off the fucking walls

“Your like an alien or something then?? That’s so cool! You have to tell me EVERYTHING!”

And don’t tell me she wouldn’t be interested in aliens and different life forms

She’d use ‘pog’ and ‘poggers’ a lot. Just twitch stream words in general

No one knows what she means and she prefers it that way >:D

Its like your own secret code

Portia would also like Tamagotchi’s but also the little plastic plants that go back and fourth

LUCIO

He’ll find someway to make it about himself not gonna lie fam-

“Of COURSE you came to this world. I’m in it!”

Would clear an entire evening just to here you talk about your world and how its different from this one

Also to flirt with you but that’s another discussion for a different time

Give him gucci anything

Doesn’t have to be anything with technology just Gucci

“What do you mean its not pronounced GUCKY?” (thank you devs. I’ve been laughing over this ever since-”

Sorry if their short, like I’ve said in a different post I haven’t been all that inspired lately, but I’m gonna try and get things out at an earlier date!

#arcana #the arcana #thearcana #The Arcana Game #the arcana julian #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #the arcana portia #the arcana muriel #the arcana lucio #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #lucio montag

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anythingbutmar · 4 years ago

Text

Family meetings (mistake pt.2)

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Summary: After gaining information from Five you realize that the world is ending and you and Diego need a way to save the girls.

A/N: I know I covered a lot of stuff here, and I promise I’ll eventually get to the 60′s but I just think this serves for a multiparter and that’s what I plan on doing, hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: slight plot changes, teensy tiny bit of angst.

The next few days were a bit of a mess, Diego had to do a bunch of police work regarding some shootings and you gladly took the permit that your job gave you when a close relative died. You were in no way close to Reginald, but you still needed to process the fact that Five had appeared from the future rambling about stuff that Diego couldn’t understand.

After their meeting and the funeral he had told you everything he had gathered from it, which wasn’t much. “It was just a lot of nerdy words that you would have understood better than me.” He had said.

And so, now you were determined to know how the hell was he back there and why he seemed so worried all the time, you just needed to figure out what to do with your daughters, which led to where you were right now: knocking on Allison’s door, after trying with Vanya, who lived close to your place but wasn’t there, apparently.

“Hey girl, remember you owe me one from that time I covered you and Luther sneaking to Griddy’s years ago? Right, so I need you to take care of the girls for the day. Luna has some pending homework and Amber needs to take her vitamins at 2:00, okay? Have fun girls! I love you both!”

“Y/N wait, I have to-”

“I won’t take long I promise! Bye!” You yelled from the staircase.

Game on, little Five.

Your years of nightly adventures with Diego had made you quite observant, which helped a lot, since Five didn’t bother on leaving any information of his whereabouts, but you had seen him staring at what seemed to be a glass eye, and there was only one prosthetics factory near, so you gave it a shot and quelle surprise! There he was, yelling at some doctor, sweet as always.

“Oh jeez I’m so sorry! My son was severely damaged from this one time he fell from a tree and he tends to make up stories.” You interrupted, almost laughing at Five’s face. “I thought I had lost you, silly! Now let’s go.” You grabbed him by the ear with your hand heated and started leaving the room. “I apologize for his aggressive behavior! I promise you won’t ever see him again.” You stated before walking out and then poof! He was gone!

“Little shit.” You muttered before running outside where you found him standing calmly with that know-it-all smirk of his, he was rubbing his ear, which brought you huge satisfaction.

“What do you think you’re doing, Y/N?”

“What? Can’t I look after my beloved brother in law?” You batted your eyelashes and he gave you a deadpan look. “Okay, fine. I need you to tell me how you got here and why the hell do you have a fake eye?”

“And why would I do such a thing?” He asked, tapping his chin with irony.

“Because I can understand you! Your siblings may not but science is sort of my thing, I can help you.”

“Well, can you tell me how to stop the apocalypse?” He snapped.

“The what now?”

“The what now?” Diego repeated with a confused look.

“The apocalypse, he said we just have a few days to stop it and our only clue is a freaking eye.”

“And meanwhile Luther’s worried about a goddamned monocle.” Diego shook his head, sitting by your side on the bed. “He came by today, you know? To bring the girls and talk about that stupid thing which doesn’t matter at all, because the world’s ending anyways. The worst thing was that he kept mocking me about naming our daughter after the moon, he said it was because I missed him! I didn’t even think of that!”

“Don’t be like that honey, we’ll figure something out, for now I have an idea to make you feel bett-”

“Mommy?” Luna opened the door, rubbing her eyes. “I had a nightmare.”

“It’s ok baby, let’s go tuck you in ok?” You were about to stand before she gave you puppy eyes.

“Can I sleep with you? Just for tonight, pleaaaaase!” You looked at Diego and instantly knew. He could never resist his older daughter’s puppy eyes.

“Alright, come here, what was it about anyways?” You asked as she climbed on the bed, laying between you two.

“I can’t remember well, I think there was a big boom and suddenly everyone was gone! The whole planet was gone!” She made a gesture with her tiny hands and you shared a wide eyed look with Diego. So far, Luna hadn’t shown any signs of an ability, but how could she know about something that hadn’t happened yet?

You refilled your glass of water with your power before taking a large sip and passing it to your husband, who was caressing your daughter’s sleeping face in shock.

“Are you think-”

“Mommy? Luna scared me.” Amber entered your room and without even asking climbed on your bed and laid on Diego’s chest, immediately closing her eyes at the feeling of her dad’s heartbeat.

“I guess it’s sleepover night then.” He chuckled.

Next morning Diego gave you all a kiss on the forehead and left you a note saying he had to work early because there was another shooting at the mall, leaving you to have an all girls morning, which excited you to no end. You loved Diego more than you could ever possibly say, but you also loved having your own time with the kids, who loved it just as much.

You turned the radio on and started preparing pancakes for the three of you, flinching slightly in disgust at the thought of Diego’s favorite breakfast: a raw egg. You never understood him avoiding the possibility of a warm tasty meal, in reality, you never agreed much in terms of habits. For example, you enjoyed drinking sometimes, as you had discovered during that fateful night when you were younger, but he wasn’t bothered by it, and neither were you about his healthy way of living, at least most of the time.

And so, you were having a peaceful breakfast, occasionally laughing at Amber’s syrup stained cheeks, when Klaus knocked on the door looking... much like Klaus.

“Hey Y/N/N! Isn’t it hilarious that you married Diego but somehow we both ended up being Five’s hypothetical parents in the eyes of a corrupt doctor?!” He laughed, entering your place and admiring the decorations. “Anyways, hello there my girlies! It’s time for a family meeting!” He sang, making them laugh.

“A family meeting?” You asked, picking up the plates.

“Urgent matter, according to Luther, could be about his newfound muscle for all I care about, but he wants us all there so let’s go baby!” He whispered so his nieces wouldn’t hear him.

“Alright, just let me get ready.”

You arrived at the house and left the girls with Pogo, who started showing them around the greatest places, according to him, and entered the living room with Klaus.

“You’re a bit late, babe.” Diego simply stated gesturing towards everyone’s bored faces.

“Oh, Y/N “just had to get ready.”“ Klaus mocked you, already pouring himself a drink.

“Yeah well, time runs differently when you have kids, buddy.” You said, receiving a glass yourself.

“It so does.” Allison clinked her glass against yours smiling.

After that, Luther showed you a video of Grace and Reginald at the moment of his death, which was followed by a discussion about her state in which you obviously refused to turn her off, she was the closest thing you had to a mother and you would not give up on her, specially knowing how much she meant to Diego and how much Luna and Amber had loved her.

You chose to wait for Five and Diego left to talk to Grace. You were going to follow him but you realized that it was a private matter, and stayed with Vanya, who was the only one left.

“Want one?” You offered and she politely declined. “Alright then, who’s this Leonard?”

“I’m gonna kill Allison.” She turned red and covered her face with her hands.

“Come on Vanya! I might not be your sister but we had our time together too! And besides, I’m a great listener.” You smiled patting the couch, and she finally nodded and sat down. Truthfully, it didn’t take that much to convince Vanya to do something, just a few kind words, which mostly everyone lacked towards her.

And so, the evening went by with both of you laughing at her new crush and remembering past times. You and Vanya had spent many hours together on the academy because for some time she and Grace were tasked with training you because Reginald was too busy with the others, who were on a much more advanced level than you, and so, she kept you running around the staircases and growing plants in the garden. According to Reginald, you could use them as weapons, but you two just thought they were pretty.

In the end the old man was right, you were going to need those damned plants to defend yourself.

After hearing gunshots you saw as the love your life fell right on the couch where you and Vanya had been sitting on.

“Get down!” He whispered and you obeyed, taking Vanya with you. “The girls Y/N, where are they?”

“They’re in Pogo’s room. How many of them?” You asked back, putting your arm around Vanya in a protective matter.

“Just two.”

And right as he said so they entered the room shooting all around until Luther and Allison started fighting them. You stood and saw a large man and a smaller armed woman. Diego and Allison got busy with the guy and you hurried Vanya to a safe corner.

“Stay here!” You told her before running towards the others. They were arguing, for a change and then the couple started shooting again. Diego and Allison ran towards a different direction and you stayed as you noticed the man was now reaching towards Vanya.

“I don’t think so, big man.” You broke the window with a tree branch from the backyard and snatched his weapon with it before kicking him on the stomach, which was completely useless, the guy was huge.

Luckily, Luther appeared which allowed you to go get Vanya. You were about to run with her towards Pogo’s room but you heard screaming, and you looked just as a giant chandelier was about to fall on Luther. You tried to push it with wind but you weren’t fast enough.

Thanks to his strength he was able to lift himself up, revealing his inhumanly hairy chest and arms, a secret well hidden until that moment. Allison tried consoling him but he ran from her. It didn’t matter, you didn’t have time for that.

“I’ll go get them, don’t worry, you go check up on your mom and we’ll meet back home, ok?” You grabbed Diego’s shoulders and he silently nodded, running upstairs.

After making sure there were no scratches on them, you explained what had happened, to which they stopped crying because they both loved a good superhero story. You took both their hands and went home, happy to be in a safe place but with a terrible feeling in your gut, as if you had forgotten something.

You waited up for Diego, who arrived an hour later looking destroyed. “I had to d-do it, s-s-she was already g-gone.” And you understood perfectly, so you cuddled him all night, even though neither of you could sleep. Those guys were still out there, Grace was dead, Five was nowhere to be found and you still felt like something was missing.

Or someone.

“Klaus!” You exclaimed, startling your tired husband.

(Part one here)

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imagine-straykids · 5 years ago

Text

Han Jisung: Crushed

short summary: when Jisung has a crush on you, he may not be the best at expressing his feelings

genre: fluff x romance

word counts: 5,350 words

Jisung wasn’t sure when or why he started liking you. Maybe it was the way you’d always awkwardly stumble upon your words; maybe it was the way you’d take jabs at yourself sometimes; maybe it was the way you listened to him as if he was the only person in the world. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure. But all he knew was that you stole his heart and he doesn’t want it back.

Who would’ve ever thought that Han Jisung, a music prodigy, basically a star student, would ever fall head over heels for someone like you who admittedly only joined a music course because you needed a filler class.

The first time you guys talked, it was because you needed help identifying some music notes. You were not the best at music--actually not very good at all, but you can sing a little bit, yay? You don’t know why you thought taking this class as an extra would be a good idea. Because it wasn’t. It was much harder than you had expected. Hell, you don’t know what you were thinking, because everybody here was basically legendary at what they do.

Anyways, well, one day your teacher had you guys do this assignment and you struggled like a bitch. While you were still on the first page losing at least 10 brain cells per question, you had noticed that Jisung, who was seated in front of you had already finished. You were amazed--No. Amazed was an understatement. You were shook even though you knew you shouldn’t be. He was pretty much second to no one in this class.

A few moments later, your teacher’s loud voice echoed through the room.

“Okay class! You have 10 more minutes left! I will be collecting your papers after that.” Your teacher sat down after her announcement.

“10 minutes? Crap! I’m not even through the first page yet...” you cursed quietly under your breath out of natural habits. You weren’t expecting anyone nearby to hear you, and you were actually hoping they didn’t. But your words did not manage to miss Jisung’s ears as you had leaned in a little bit too closely behind him when you mumbled.

You were too busy scribbling down whatever you were scribbling because frankly you weren’t really sure what you were doing. As you lifted your head up trying to take a look at the clock, you were instead met with Jisung’s puppy eyes as he had been examining what you were doing for the last 5 seconds or so. A small gasp escaped your mouth and you blinked out of fright, but not loud enough to catch anyone’s attention. Just loud and visible enough for you to make a fool out of yourself in front of Han Jisung.

“Do you need any help?” He smiled.

Ahhhh oh my gosh, he smiled, you internally screamed inside your head.

“I--uhm--uh--yeah, I kind of do--” you stumbled around your words awkwardly.

This shouldn’t have been as nerve wrecking, but why is it.

“I can help you. What do you need help with?”

“Oh uhm... the whole paper to be honest. I’m kind of... new to this kind of class.”

And that was pretty much your guys first time talking to each other. Ever since then, he would always voluntarily ask if you needed any help, to which you were very much appreciative for. He really did not have to be this nice to you, but he was. Bless his whole ass soul.

Little by little, working out assignments together turned into small talks between you guys, or rather silly stories told by himself, and you in return would share stories of your siblings to him and just how annoying they are to you daily. He liked to listen to your tales because he didn’t have any younger siblings and his older brother lived in another town.

Your Music class that used to be so intimidating to you because you were so far behind everyone else, the class that used to make you feel talentless and lonely as hell, you now had something to look forward to.

Oddly, Jisung could say the same thing too. Everyday back and forth to him was just go to classes, head to dance practice after school, go home, study, and repeat. But his somehow repetitive lifestyle started looking a little bit more exciting after meeting you. All his other classes were okay, but somehow he was always looking forward to 6th period; his music class. Looking forward to that special someone he could talk to about how his day has went so far.

Sometimes zoning out in his other classes, thinking about all the kind of things to say or tell you whenever he does get to 6th period. It was a foreign feeling that he had never experienced before. Not for anyone else. He’s had crushes in the past, but they were mostly puppy love, or crushes that would last a week at most. But every time he gets closer to you, every time he’s communicating with you, he feel his heart exploding a million times, and all the little things you would do like mumbling things to yourself thinking nobody would hear, the way you would twitch your nose whenever something upsets you a little, pressing the wrong keys when practicing, or just the way you would laugh at the smallest things he said just does a different kind of twist on his heart string.

Day by day he found himself becoming greedier and greedier, wanting to become something much more with you. But he didn’t know if that was too weird considering you guys don’t interact outside of this class, besides the small gestures you both would exchange sometimes when passing by one another.

He wasn’t sure if he was moving too fast or not, but it was 4 months ago that he started talking to you. 4 months ago when he talked to you, the one who would make him question so many things about himself.

He don’t know if he should wait it out and see if you’ll say anything, but from how you’re acting, it doesn’t look as if any changes was coming soon. He was growing more impatient every time he gets the chance to talk to you, because to him, you were just... so adorable.

One day after class ended, he finally managed up the courage to ask you if you wanted to go for a drink after school, to which you said yes. He was met with pleasure, but at the same time, terror. Was he really about to do this? No no. He was not ready. But he also does not want to be just friends anymore. He was mentally battling his thoughts the whole time walking there that he even missed out on some things you’ve told him.

You became aware that Jisung was not being himself and was rather gloomy today all of a sudden.

“Jisung, are you alright?” You asked him worriedly.

Your voice snapped him back to reality.

“Y-yeah I am fine y/n! Sorry, I was just thinking about how much homework I have today,” he assured you.

Really? A lot of homework? That’s really the best thing you can think of, Jisung criticized himself in his head.

“Oh... I see. Well we should probably go grab a seat so you can let loose some tension.”

Jisung nodded and you guys found a spot in the back corner.

As soon as you guys sat down, Jisung’s face positioned toward his feet as if he’s rethinking life decisions.

This was unusual for him because although you were not with him often, rarely did you ever see him looking so down. He was always jolly every time he entered the classroom. This was a rather new Jisung for you.

“Hey Jisung, you’re a smart person! You will finish all the work alright. And if you need any help, I am always here for you,” you tried to comfort him.

“Huh--O-o yeah. Thank you. Sorry I’m a little bit spaced out,” he said so quietly.

“Jisung, if there’s anything that’s bothering you, you can always tell me. I won’t ever judge, you know that. I just hope you’re okay.”

The more worried you were for him, the more it made him want to throw up from nervousness. Because you’re encouraging him to confess but at the same time, discouraging, because he was just that afraid he might ruin a good relationship with someone like you.

“I’m fine, y/n. You can go ahead and order something. I need to use the restroom real quick.” He stood up and made his way to the men’s restroom.

He quickly shut himself in and slid down the wall onto his knees as he puffed out breath of airs.

After he had situated in a comfortable position, he took his phone out and called Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin, I-I cannot do it. I can’t. I feel so weak and nervous right now I think I might throw up,” Jisung ranted.

“Tell me about it. That was a such a shit show. Dude, I got second hand embarrassment from it.”

“W-wait what. How did you know what happened?”

“Me and Jeongin come to this cafe every day after school. We were seated right across from you guys, but you were too busy being a nervous freak to notice.”

“Oh wow, so Jeongin saw it too. I really just cannot. I don’t think I can go out after this. My hands are sweating. Can you like, make up some kind of excuse for me?”

“Like what kind of excuse?”

“I don’t know... just tell her I went home because I feel sick.”

“What? Then she’s going to say why didn’t you just tell her.”

“Then just say because I was in a rush,” Jisung grew impatient trying to reason with Hyunjin.

“I guess then. At this pace, you’re never going to get a girlfriend.”

Jisung was about to say something back but Hyunjin already cut off the line.

When Jisung came in the next day, you asked him if he was alright, and he gave you a short answer but nothing more than that.

You tried initiating a few more small talks with him but he was really just out of it, you had a feeling you should just leave him to be. He’s probably going through a difficult time right now.

When the bell rung signaling it was time to leave, you bid a small goodbye wave to Jisung before you left but it was only met with an awkward smile from him.

The next three days continued on pretty much like the scenario above. You would try starting a conversation but it wasn’t much of a conversation if you were the only one talking. Eventually, you stopped trying to talk to him.

You would be lying if you were to say you weren’t upset or concerned. You didn’t know if you had said something that offended him, or if he found out that you secretly have a crush on him and is creep out by it. Either way, both situation weren’t going to end well for you.

The day you guys went to the cafe was the day he started acting indifferent. Maybe he heard that small fart you ripped out along the way or something. But you swore on god that it didn’t smell that bad. Maybe that day he meant to tell you he doesn’t want to be friends or talk to a loser like you anymore, but wasn’t courageous enough to finish what he started, that’s why he sent Hyunjin over to get rid of you.

It honestly sucks because your music teacher has recently assigned you guys with a project and in your head, you and Jisung would’ve had a blast discussing about what you guys were going to do for it. All of the things he or you would’ve said kept playing over and over in your head. But then again, you shouldn’t jump into conclusion.

You’ll just confront him on Monday and see what the real deal is. You just hope it wasn’t anything too serious that he’s brooding about. If you had hurt him in some shape or form, you would like to know and apologize dearly.

Jisung felt like an imbecile. An even bigger fool than the one he was before. He couldn’t believe he thought ignoring and avoiding you would suppressed his feelings or prevent you from asking anything relevant.

It probably did, but now the feeling of guilt is just eating him up. Your poor face after rambling and getting no response broke his heart. But he was afraid if he were to say anything less than appropriate, he would lose it.

He just wish you’re doing good for yourself and isn’t taking his actions to heart, because he pretty much acknowledge that he’s being stupid.

When he got to dance practice, he slammed his backpack harshly onto the floor of the studio and sighed.

The frustration of his caught the attention of Seungmin, Hyunjin and Jeongin who got here a little bit early too and was prepping up.

“What’s good bro? You alright?” Seungmin asked as he walked forward to Jisung.

“Yeah. You have been looking pretty sad these past few days. I kind of miss that loud crackhead energy of yours even though you can get carried away with it,” Jeongin sensing the rising atmosphere, tried to lighten it up.

“He probably got rejected by his dream girl,” Hyunjin chimmed in.

“Huh?” Seungmin let out in confusion.

“This one girl in his music class that he has a huge crush on for no reason even though they don’t even interact.”

Hyunjin was of course only teasing Jisung.

“Hey! We do interact! It’s just mostly in class. You’re not even in the class itself so shut up Hwang Hyunjin. At least I can keep my crush on one girl, and not the whole freaking school,” Jisung defended himself.

Jeongin let out a small laughter followed by Seungmin.

“That’s true, Hyung. You really need to stick to one person like seriously.” Jeongin threw his arm onto Hyunjin’s shoulder but Hyunjin slapped it off.

“Whatever.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes.

“And no, I didn’t get rejected... I didn’t even ask her out yet.” Jisung admitted in shame.

“Huh?” Seungmin let out again.

“Then what are you so miserable about?” Jeongin cocked his eyebrow.

“I-I’m scared. What if she says no? What if she doesn’t like me like that. Then it’s just going to be awkward. She’s a really sweet person and I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I think about her more than a friend,” Jisung’s tone dampen the longer he talked.

“But what if she also likes you like that? I mean, you don’t know... you haven’t even asked her.” Seungmin tried to encourage Jisung.

Jeongin nodded in agreement while Hyunjin just let out a chuckle.

“Dude, if you don’t ask her out, I will. Seeing her the other day at the cafe, she’s kind of cute.” Hyunjin goes into thought.

Jisung’s eyes fired up at what Hyunjin said.

“Hey! Stay away from her! But to be honest, she wouldn’t like you anyways. Sorry but she wouldn’t go for someone who changes girls everyday like he changes his clothes. Anyways--can you tell Chan for me that I will be missing practice today. Something came up. Bye!”

And with that, Jisung quickly grabbed his backpack and stormed out of the building.

“Wow, I’m hurt.” Hyunjin put his hand on his chest.

"Jisung, aren’t you going to eat?”

His door flashed opened with his mom’s head in between the crack.

“Soon! I just need to revise this one more time.” His eyes still not leaving his music sheet.

“Dear, don’t overwork yourself. It’s almost 11. You’ve been working on your song ever since you came home. Please come down to eat and you can continue after.” His mom tried to convince him, not wanting her own son to starve to death.

Jisung finally placed the guitar down at the defeat of his mom’s words.

“Alright mom. See you downstairs.”

“Wow Jisung, this is really good. And the lyrics are, wow...” Chan complimented the younger man who came to him for feedbacks on his sample.

“Do you really mean it? I mean... you really think this is good?” Jisung widened his eyes as he searched for an answer in Chan’s own.

“Yeah, of course! Jisung, are you like, okay? Because usually you’re always so confident in your works and rarely do you ever come to me or Changbin for revision.”

“Oh yeah, I’m good. I just need it to be perfect because I’m performing this song for my project on Monday and I need it to be A plus.”

Chan nodded.

“I am 100% sure you are going to ace this.”

Monday had came super fast, and when reality hit that you’ll be performing in front of the class again, it railed up your anxiety very bad.

The last few projects or performances you guys had was mostly just instruments based, as the teacher wanted to see how well the students were progressing on their skills. But now you needed to dance or sing and you weren’t so sure how this was going to end.

You weren’t no song writing goddess or instruments playing master, so you were just going to do a quick simple cover of Red Velvet Psycho.

As long as you don’t sound like a dying goat, you’ll do just fine.

You were honestly looking forward to Jisung’s performance as well. Because every time he goes up, he always come up with the most creative or mind blowing performances. Jisung didn’t need talents, talents needed Jisung.

Classes passed by like the wind, probably because most of the time you were in your own world.

The closer it was to your 6th period, the more anxious you were, and you were already very anxious to begin with.

When the time finally came, you walked into the class and sat down at your desk. Jisung still hasn’t arrived yet.

With time to kill, your eyes circled the room and for fun, you tried guessing what some of the students would be doing.

Mhmm, that girl Yoona in the back, you’ve seen a few of her song covers on Youtube, so chances are she’ll be singing.

That guy to the right of you performed in the rally last semester, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he bounced out some steps later on.

Your thoughts were intruded when you heard the door slammed shut, your attention shifted to your teacher who stood tall in front of all of you.

“Good Afternoon class, I hope you’re all doing well, and I hope you all have something prepared today as well,” She smiled.

She then does this thing where she’ll move her eyes from left to right, trying to pick out any students who’s missing.

The desk in front of you, which belongs to Jisung, was still empty.

Jesus, does he really hate you that much that he’ll even risk losing points. You really wanted to make things right today. Or at least try working out whatever is going on between you guys, which you don’t even know what is it.

“Jisung isn’t here yet?” Your teacher asked.

You only shook your head.

“Alright, well then it looks like we’ll have to continue without h--”

Your teacher was interrupted when the door busted opened. Jisung showed up looking like he just woke up, almost out of breath like. You could tell his hair was slightly messier and the shade in his pupils darkened compared to other days. His eye bags were also more prominent.

“--Sorry, I got caught up in things.” Jisung bowed down to your teacher and then to the rest of the class.

“You’re fine. Go take a seat.” She dismissed.

Jisung bowed again before trailing to his desk. Along the way, you guys unintentionally met eyes, followed by Jisung awkwardly breaking the contact by looking at the wall, then taking a seat.

All you could think about at the moment was what did you do to Jisung that he’s going to this extent to avoid you. Did he read your diary when you went to the restroom, and found out about that one experience you wrote when you and your family went to the water park and your stomach hurted badly so you did a little oopsie near the kids section and they never found out it was you--Oh gosh, you couldn’t imagine.

Whatever it was, Jisung must have his reasons, and you really need to stop jumping to conclusions. Everything will be okay as long as you talk to him today.

“Now that everybody’s here, we should get started, we don’t have a lot of time.”

Then your teacher started picking out names one after another. You did genuinely enjoyed their performances, but every time someone finished, you just want to crawl into the corner and hide away from the rest of the world, because pray to the lord you don’t get called on.

Everybody was doing so good so far.

“Please give a big round of applause to Saeron,” your teacher followed after Saeron had finished.

Everyone clapped in awed but it’ll always dimmed whenever your teacher call on the next person.

“Y/n!” She held up the piece of paper in her hand with your name written on it.

“Huh?” you were taken back at the sound of your name.

“It’s your turn, y/n.” Your teacher sternly looked at you.

“Oh--right, right.” You sluggishly got up and made ways to the front.

“Uhm, for today I’ll be covering Psycho by Red Velvet. I hope you’ll all like it.” you awkwardly turned to your teacher to give her the go to put on the instrumental.

Your heart was racing so fast.

It’s okay, you can do it.

You got me feeling like a psycho psycho People keep telling us As we fight like it’s our last but then we get along They don’t get it, it’s so funny

The last piece of lyrics escaped your mouth and you sighed in relief. You bowed to the class after you were finished and was met with applause from all around the room.

“Good job, y/n. You may now take a seat.” Your teacher smiled.

You walked back to your seat, having felt like you did a decent job, at least by the feedbacks.

“Next up, Han Jisung.”

You had completely forgotten about him, and that he was watching your whole performance. Ahhhhh

But on the flip side, you were excited to see what he had prepared.

The room was filled with silence while waiting for him. He finally grabbed his guitar and went up, gulped, then stared at you for a second, but you weren’t able to read his expression.

He had displayed a more tense body language, his eyes barely meeting anyone’s. The Han Jisung you knew had always been so confident and couldn’t wait for his name to be called, while the one that stood in front of you right now looked like every ounce of his soul had left his body.

Oh man, you don’t know how much more surprises he could pull on you. You just had never seen him like this before. Or is it that you never knew him all along. Your thoughts were cut short when Jisung spoke.

“For today... I’'ll be singing a song that I wrote for uh, a special someone. I-I hope that person will like it.” He threw on a nervous smile and right then, his eyes met yours. An innocent, sweet kind of enchanted look that pulled you right in.

“Oooooooooooooooo,” the students giggled and awed.

Was he talking about me? You thought.

No way. He hates me. But why did he look at me? Oh my gosh, is this song about me? Wait--why is he writing a song about me--wait what?! You continued fighting inside your head but not for long before Jisung began playing his melody.

The calming and relaxing tone of the guitar could almost put you to sleep, of course in a good way. The soft and dreamy tune like this was something only Jisung could pull off.

Then he started singing,

“When I first met you, I honestly didn’t think too much

You were like any other person to me, someone to talk to

but slowly, each day, you’ve showed me that you were someone worth loving, worth taking care of, worth falling in love with

Before I knew it, my heart was yours.”

okay excuse those shitty lyrics, I just made it up

Every words that he said, you could see and felt that he really meant it. He wasn’t just spitting out lyrics for the sake of this project. He was speaking from his heart and mind. As if he was trying to reach out to someone. He wrote those lyrics specifically for a certain someone.

Was it for you? Was it for the girl at the back of you?

You had no idea, but you were still secretly wishing it was for you.

The whole class’s attention and yours were glued onto him, not missing a bit of his performance. Han Jisung really got everyone whipped.

When he finished up on the last part of the song, the class exploded in applause. It was the loudest group of claps anyone has gotten so far. You were also slapping your hands together like a crazy seal.

He may not be acting like himself and is coming off a bit odd right now, but for sure, the boy’s talents is something that would never change.

The rest of the period concluded with other students showcasing what they had prepared. Not everyone got a chance as class was a bit too short, but your teacher reassured the ones who didn’t get to go up today, will be called up tomorrow. Sucks to be them.

You were knocked out for a second before remembering that you were going to ask Jisung today, whether he wants to answer or not. Jisung was still fixated on his backpack, digging and shoving through it, so you waited unsuspiciously.

He stopped the ruckus when he pulled out a piece of white paper with some words on it. You can’t read it but you can only make out the squiggly black lines. It seems that was exactly what he was looking for, so after that, he threw his backpack on.

Panicked, afraid he might leave before you can catch him, you stepped out of your seat to confront him, only for him to turn around, causing you guys to face each other instead.

“I need you talk to you,” You both said at the same time.

“What?” Both of you guys tilted your head in sync again.

“You first,” you gave him the go.

“No, you first,” He declined.

“Fine--I just--wait.” You inspected the surroundings. You guys were still in class and this was not a good setting because anyone can just walk in any moment.

“I think it’s better if we talk somewhere else.” you continued.

You guys stopped at the school garden, and when you made sure that absolutely no one was around, you proceeded.

“I just want to know what’s been going on lately. You’ve been ignoring and avoiding me. Did I do something wrong that had upset you? I would like to know, Jisung. Just completely ghosting me like this hurts.”

You promised yourself you weren’t going to get emotional about this.

“I know I’m a jerk, Y/n. I know. And I’m sorry about that. I just, I just... don’t know how to express my feelings to you, y/n. I’m confused, I’m lost, I’m scared, I don’t know... but I’m also in love...” He said the last part quietly, but you could still hear it.

“In love? With someone else? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“No no.” Jisung shook his head, getting more frustrated by the moment.

“And that song you sung in class, was--was that for someone?” you timidly asked. You have a theory it might be for you, but you do not want to say it, afraid you’re going to come out looking like a fool if he meant it for someone else.

“Yeah it was...”

“Jisung, if you have feelings for someone, you don’t have to hide it from me, I’m fine with it. If you like them, go for it. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, like you couldn’t be open about your relationships or feelings.”

“No no, y/n. You don’t get it,” Jisung exhaled.

“What do you mean? What am I not getting?”

“I didn’t write that song for someone else, or anyone else. I wrote it for you. You, y/n. I wrote those lyrics for you.”

You could hear the disappointment in his tone and his head hanging in defeat.

“Oh...” was all you could say. Not because you didn’t like him. No. You like him. A lot. Oh was the only thing you could let out because reality was getting a little hard to accept, knowing Han Jisung likes you, and wrote a song for you.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay if you do not feel the same way. I really only wrote it because I didn’t know any other way to let my feelings out, and music was what I’m best at. I did felt a little better after writing the lyrics, and after performing, knowing you were listening to it. Here, take this.”

He stretched his arm out to hand you something. It was the piece of paper he was holding earlier. It had the lyrics he had written for you on it.

“It’s okay to not feel the same way. But I hope you accept this. I might feel a little bit better if you do.”

You extended your arm to take the white sheet of paper, still speechless.

“I’ll get going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave you a small smile combined with a bow and almost walked away from your sight.

“Wait Jisung!” You stopped him in his track.

“I--I, I feel the same way too, Jisung. I like you too. And I have for a while now.”

Jisung could’ve swore he heard that wrong, but he almost dropped his backpack at what you said.

He switched back to you, his face was planted with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from anyone.

“R-really? Y-you like me too?” He asked again for confirmation.

You nodded.

The next moment happened so fast, and before you can process anything, you were already in Jisung’s warmth. Your chin on his shoulder and his arms wrapping around you.

“I’m so happy! Really happy, Y/n! You don’t know how happy I am!”

uwu He was too adorable.

With your hands on his chest, you pushed a little bit to create a distance.

“Wait, then why were you avoiding me?” you frowned as you gazed at his face for answers.

“Because I don’t know. I was scared you wouldn’t like me back. I didn’t want to hurt my friendship with you. That day at the cafe I was planning on confessing but I got so nervous, I dipped. I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m a coward. But I promise from this day on, I will tell you everything. I won’t ever do it again. I-I really like you. Give me a chance.”

He pouted and trapped you in his hug.

“Alright alright. I forgive you.”

He finally lets go of you, but his idiocy smile still not leaving his face.

“What?”

“I don’t know. You’re just cute.”

“Pfft.”

You cheeks grew red from his remarks. Oh god, this feels so weird.

“Come on, let’s go.” He suddenly grabbed your hand, perfectly aligning it with his.

“Go where?”

“To introduce my new girlfriend to my friends.”

He ran at full speed, dragging you as you were struggling to catch up.

The End :)

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